Memories of Midnight

In the beginning, Melina had had no idea how she was going to accomplish it. She knew only that her husband intended to destroy her brother and she could not let that happen. Somehow, Costa had to be stopped. Her life no longer mattered. Her days and nights were filled with pain and humiliation. She remembered how Spyros had tried to warn her against the marriage. You can't marry Demiris. He's a monster. He'll destroy you. How right he had been. And she had been too much in love to listen. Now her husband had to be destroyed. But how? Think like Costa. And she had. By morning, Melina had worked out all the details. After that, the rest had been simple.



Constantin Demiris was in his study working when Melina walked in. She was carrying a package tied with a heavy cord. She held a large butcher knife in her hand.



"Costa, would you mind cutting this open for me? I can't seem to manage it."



He looked up at her and said impatiently, "Of course you can't. Don't you know better than to hold a knife by the blade?" He snatched the knife from her and started to cut the cord. "Couldn't you have had one of the servants do this?"



Melina did not answer.



Demiris finished cutting the cord. "There!" He put the knife down and Melina carefully picked it up by the blade.



She looked up at him and said, "Costa, we can't go on this way. I still love you. You must still feel something for me. Do you remember the wonderful times we used to have together? Do you remember the night of our honeymoon when..."



"For Christ's sake," Demiris snapped. "Don't you understand? It's over. I'm finished with you. Get out of here, you make me sick."



Melina stood there staring at him. Finally, she said quietly, "All right. Have it your way." She turned and left the room carrying the knife.



"You forgot your package," Demiris shouted.



She was gone.



Melina went into her husband's dressing room and opened a closet door. There were a hundred suits hanging in the closet with a special section for sports jackets. She reached for one of the jackets and tore a gold button from it. She put the button in her pocket.



Next she opened a drawer and removed a pair of her husband's bathing trunks with his initials on them. I'm almost ready, Melina thought.



The Katelanos Detective Agency was located on Sofokleous Street in a faded old brick building on the corner. Melina was ushered into the office of the owner of the agency, Mr. Katelanos, a small bald man with a tiny mustache.



"Good morning, Mrs. Demiris. And what can I do for you?"



"I need protection."



"What kind of protection?"



"From my husband."



Katelanos frowned. He smelled trouble. This was not at all the kind of case he had anticipated. It would be very unwise to do anything that might offend a man as powerful as Constantin Demiris.



"Have you thought of going to the police?" he asked.



"I can't. I don't want any publicity. I want to keep this private. I told my husband I was going to divorce him, and he threatened to kill me if I went through with it. That's why I came to you."



"I see. What exactly is it you wish me to do?"



"I want you to assign some men to protect me."



Katelanos sat there studying her. She's a beautiful woman, he thought. Obviously neurotic. It was inconceivable that her husband would harm her. This was probably some little domestic spat that would blow over in a few days. But meanwhile, he would be able to charge her a nice fee. On balance, Katelanos decided it was worth the risk.



"All right," he said. "I have a good man I can assign to you. When would you like him to start?"



"Monday."



So he was right. There was no urgency.



Melina Demiris rose. "I will give you a call. Do you have a business card?"



"Yes, of course." Katelanos handed her his business card and ushered her out. She's a good client to have, he thought. Her name will impress my other clients.



When Melina returned home, she telephoned her brother. "Spyros, I have some good news." Her voice was filled with excitement. "Costa wants a truce."



"What? I don't trust him, Melina. It must be some kind of trick. He..."



"No. He means it. He realizes that it's stupid for you two to be fighting all the time. He wants to have peace in the family."



There was a silence. "I don't know."



"At least give him a chance. He wants you to meet him at your lodge at Acrocorinth at three o'clock this afternoon."



"That's a three-hour drive. Why can't we meet in town?"



"He didn't say," Melina told him, "but if it's going to mean peace..."



"All right. I'll do it. But I'm doing it for you."



"For us," Melina said. "Good-bye, Spyros."



"Good-bye."



Melina telephoned Constantin at the office. His voice was abrupt. "What is it? I'm busy."



"I just received a call from Spyros. He wants to make peace with you."



There was a short, derisive laugh. "I'll bet he does. When I'm through with him he'll have all the peace he'll ever want."



"He said he's not going to compete with you any more, Costa. He's willing to sell you his fleet."



"Sell me his...Are you sure?" His voice was suddenly filled with interest.



"Yes. He said he's had enough."



"All right. Tell him to send his accountants over to my office, and..."



"No. He wants to meet with you this afternoon at three o'clock at Acrocorinth."



"His lodge?"



"Yes. It's a secluded place. It will be just the two of you. He doesn't want word of this to get out."



I'll bet he doesn't, Demiris thought with satisfaction. When word does get out, he will be a laughingstock. "All right," Demiris said. "You can tell him I'll be there."



The drive to Acrocorinth was a long one, on winding roads that meandered through the lush countryside, redolent with the odors of grapes and lemons and hay. Spyros Lambrou passed ancient ruins along the way. In the distance, he saw the fallen pillars of Elefsis, the ruined altars of lesser gods. He thought of Demiris.



Lambrou was the first to arrive at the lodge. He pulled up in front of the cabin and sat in the car for a moment, thinking about the meeting he was about to have. Did Constantin really want a truce, or was this another one of his tricks? If anything happened to him, at least Melina knew where he had gone. Spyros got out of the car and walked into the deserted lodge.



The lodge was a lovely old wooden building with a view of Corinth in the distance below. As a boy, Spyros Lambrou had spent weekends there with his father, hunting small game in the mountains. Now he was after bigger game.



Fifteen minutes later, Constantin Demiris arrived. He saw Spyros inside, waiting there, and it gave him a glow of satisfaction. So, after all these years, the man is finally willing to admit he is defeated. He got out of his car and walked into the cabin. The two men stood there, staring at each other.



"Well, my dear brother-in-law," Demiris said, "so we've finally reached the end of the road."



"I want this madness to end, Costa. It's gone too far."



"I couldn't agree with you more. How many ships do you have, Spyros?"



Lambrou looked at him in surprise. "What?"



"How many ships do you have? I'll purchase them all. At a substantial discount, naturally."



Lambrou could not believe what he was hearing. "Purchase my ships?"



"I'm willing to buy all of them. It will make me the largest fleet owner in the world."



"Are you crazy? What - what makes you think I would sell you my ships?"



It was Demiris's turn to react. "That's why we're meeting here, isn't it?"



"We're meeting here because you asked for a truce."



Demiris's face darkened. "I - who told you that?"



"Melina."



The truth dawned on both of them at the same moment. "She told you I wanted a truce?"



"She told you I wanted to sell my ships?"



"The stupid bitch," Demiris exclaimed. "I suppose she thought that by bringing us together we would reach some sort of agreement. She's a bigger fool than you are, Lambrou. I've wasted a whole afternoon on you."



Constantin Demiris turned and stormed out the door. Spyros Lambrou looked after him, thinking, Melina shouldn't have lied to us. She should have known that there's no way her husband and I could ever get together. Not now. It's too late. It was always too late.



At 1:30, earlier that afternoon, Melina had rung for the maid. "Andrea, would you bring me some tea, please?"



"Certainly, ma'am." The maid left the room, and when she returned with the tea tray ten minutes later, her mistress was speaking into the telephone. Her tone was angry.



"No, Costa, I've made up my mind. I intend to divorce you and I'm going to make it as messy and as public as I can.



Embarrassed, Andrea set the tray down and started to retreat. Melina waved to her to stay.



Melina spoke into the dead phone. "You can threaten me all you like. I'm not going to change my mind...Never...I don't care what you say...You don't frighten me, Costa...No...What would be the point?...All right. I'll meet you at the beach house, but it won't do you any good. Yes, I'll come alone. In an hour? Very well."



Slowly, Melina replaced the receiver, a worried look on her face. She turned to Andrea. "I'm going to the beach house to meet my husband. If I haven't returned by six o'clock, I want you to call the police."



Andrea swallowed nervously. "Would you like the chauffeur to drive you?"



"No. Mr. Demiris asked me to come alone."



"Yes, ma'am."



There was one more thing to do. Catherine Alexander's life was in danger. She had to be warned. It was someone from the delegation that had had dinner at the house. You won't see her again. I've sent someone to get rid of her. Melina placed a call to her husband's offices in London.



"Is there a Catherine Alexander working there?"



"She's not in at the moment. Can anyone else help you?"



Melina hesitated. Her message was too urgent to trust to just anyone, but she would have no time to call back. She remembered Costa mentioning a Wim Vandeen, a genius in the office.



"Could I speak with Mr. Vandeen, please."



"Just a moment."



A man's voice came on the line. "Hello."



She could barely understand him.



"I have a message for Catherine Alexander. It's very important. Would you see that she gets it, please?"



"Catherine Alexander."



"Yes. Tell her - tell her that her life is in danger. Someone is going to try to kill her. I think it could be one of the men who came from Athens."



"Athens..."



"Yes."



"Athens has a population of eight hundred six thousand..."



Melina could not seem to make the man understand. She hung up the phone. She had tried her best.



Wim sat at his desk, digesting the telephone conversation. Someone is going to try to kill Catherine. A hundred and fourteen murders were committed in England this year, Catherine will make it a hundred and fifteen. One of the men who came from Athens. Jerry Haley. Yves Renard. Dino Mattusi. One of them is going to kill Catherine. Wim's computer mind instantly fed him all the data on the three men. I think I know which one it is.



When Catherine returned later, Wim said nothing to her about the phone call.



He was curious to see if he was right.



Catherine was out with a different member of the delegation every evening, and when she came to work each morning, Wim was there, waiting. He seemed disappointed to see her.



When is she going to let him do it? Wim wondered. Maybe he should tell her about the telephone message. But that would be cheating. It wouldn't be fair to change the odds.