Memories of Midnight

The delegation of executives from Athens was keeping Catherine busy. She set up meetings for them with other company executives and took them through the London operation. They marveled at her efficiency. She was knowledgeable about every phase of the business, and they were impressed.



Catherine's days were full, and the distractions kept her mind off her own problems. She got to know each of the men a little better.



Jerry Haley was the black sheep of his family. His father had been a wealthy oil man, and his grandfather a respected judge. By the time Jerry Haley was twenty-one, he had served three years in juvenile detention centers for auto theft, breaking and entering, and rape. His family had finally sent him to Europe to get rid of him. "But I straightened myself out," Haley told Catherine proudly. "Turned over a whole new leaf."



Yves Renard was a bitter man. Catherine learned that his parents had given him up and he had been brought up by distant relatives who abused him. "They had a farm near Vichy, and they worked me like a dog from sun-up to sunset. I escaped from there when I was fifteen and went to work in Paris."



The cheerful Italian, Dino Mattusi, was born in Sicily, to middle-class parents. "When I was sixteen, I caused a big scandal by running away with a married woman ten years older than me. Ah, she was bellissima."



"What happened?" Catherine asked.



He sighed. "They brought me home and then sent me to Rome to escape the wrath of the woman's husband."



Catherine smiled. "I see. When did you go to work for Mr. Demiris's company?"



He said evasively, "Later. I did many things first. You know - odd jobs. Anything to make a living."



"And then you met your wife?"



He looked into Catherine's eyes and said, "My wife is not here."



He watched her, talked to her, listened to the sound of her voice, smelled her perfume. He wanted to know everything about her. He liked the way she moved and he wondered what her body was like under her dress. He would know soon. Very soon. He could hardly wait.



Jerry Haley walked into Catherine's office. "Do you like the theater, Catherine?"



"Why, yes. I..."



"There's a new musical that opened. Finian's Rainbow. I'd like to see it tonight."



"I'll be happy to arrange a ticket for you."



"It wouldn't be much fun going alone, would it? Are you free?"



Catherine hesitated. "Yes." She found herself staring at his enormous, restless hands.



"Great! Pick me up at my hotel at seven o'clock." It was an order. He turned and walked out of the office.



It was strange, Catherine thought. He seemed so friendly and open and yet...



I straightened myself out. She could not get the image of those huge hands out of her mind.



Jerry Haley was waiting in the lobby of the Hotel Savoy for Catherine and they drove to the theater in a company limousine.



"London's a great city," Jerry Haley said. "I always enjoy coming back to it. Have you been here long?"



"A few months."



"You from the States originally?"



"Yes. Chicago."



"Now, there's a great town. I've had some good times there."



Raping women?



They arrived at the theater and joined the crowd. The show was wonderful and the cast was excellent, but Catherine was unable to concentrate. Jerry Haley kept drumming his fingers on the side of the chair, on his lap, on his knees. He was unable to keep his huge hands still.



When the play was over, Haley turned to Catherine and said, "It's such a beautiful night. Why don't we get rid of the car and go for a walk in Hyde Park?"



"I have to be at the office early in the morning," Catherine said. "Perhaps some other time."



Haley studied her, an enigmatic smile on his face. "Sure," he said. "There's plenty of time."



Yves Renard was interested in museums. "Of course," the Frenchman said to Catherine, "in Paris we have the greatest museum in the world. Have you been to the Louvre?"



"No," Catherine said. "I've never been to Paris."



"That's a pity. You should go one day." But, even as he said it, he thought to himself, I know she won't. "I would like to see the museums in London. Perhaps on Saturday we could visit some of them."



Catherine had planned to catch up on some of her office work on Saturday. But Constantin Demiris had asked her to see that the visitors were taken care of.



"All right," she said. "Saturday will be fine."



Catherine was not looking forward to spending a day with the Frenchman. He's so bitter. He acts like he's still being abused.



The day started out pleasantly enough. They went first to the British Museum, where they wandered through galleries filled with magnificent treasures of the past. They saw a copy of the Magna Carta, a proclamation signed by Elizabeth I, and treaties of battles fought centuries earlier.



Something about Yves Renard was bothering Catherine, and it was not until they had been at the museum for almost an hour that she realized what it was.



They were looking at a case containing a document written by Admiral Nelson.



"I think this is one of the most interesting exhibits here," Catherine said. "This was written just before Admiral Nelson went into battle. You see, he wasn't sure he had the authority..." And she was suddenly conscious of the fact that Yves Renard was not listening. And another realization swept over her: He had paid almost no attention to any of the displays in the museum. He was not interested. Then why did he tell me he wanted to see museums? Catherine wondered.



They went to the Victoria and Albert Museum next and the experience was repeated. This time, Catherine was watching him closely. Yves Renard went from room to room paying lip service to what they were seeing, but his mind was obviously somewhere else.



When they were finished, Catherine asked, "Would you like to see Westminster Abbey?"



Yves Renard nodded. "Yes, of course."



They walked through the great abbey, stopping to look at the tombstones of the famous men of history who were buried there, poets and statesmen and kings.



"Look," Catherine said, "this is where Robert Browning is buried."



Renard glanced down. "Ah, Browning." And then he moved on.



Catherine stood there looking after him. What is he looking for? Why is he wasting this day?



When they were on the way back to the hotel, Yves Renard said, "Thank you, Miss Alexander. I enjoyed that very much."



He's lying, Catherine thought. But why?



"There's a place that I've heard is very interesting. Stonehenge. I believe it's on the Salisbury Plain."



"Yes," Catherine said.



"Why don't we visit it, next Saturday perhaps?"



Catherine wondered whether he would find Stonehenge any more interesting than the museums.



"That would be fine," Catherine said.



Dino Mattusi was a gourmet. He walked into Catherine's office with a guidebook. "I have a list of the greatest restaurants in London here. Interested?"



"Well, I..."



"Good! Tonight I am taking you to dine at the Connaught."



Catherine said, "Tonight I have to..."



"No excuses. I will pick you up at eight o'clock."



Catherine hesitated. "Very well."



Mattusi beamed. "Bene!" He leaned forward. "It is no fun doing things alone, is it?" His meaning was unmistakable. But he's so obvious, Catherine thought, that he's really quite harmless.



The dinner at the Connaught was delicious. They dined on smoked Scottish salmon, roast beef, and Yorkshire pudding.



Over the salad, Dino Mattusi said, "I find you fascinating, Catherine. I love American women."



"Oh. Is your wife American?" Catherine asked innocently.



Mattusi shrugged. "No, she is Italian. But she's very understanding."



"That must be nice for you," Catherine said.



He smiled. "It is, very nice."



It was not until they were having dessert that Dino Mattusi said, "Do you like the country? I have a friend who has a car. I thought we might go for a drive on Sunday."



Catherine started to say no, and then she suddenly thought of Wim. He seemed so lonely. Perhaps he would enjoy going out for a drive in the country. "It sounds like fun," Catherine said.



"I promise you it will be interesting."



"I wonder if I might bring Wim?"



He shook his head. "It's a small car. I'll make the arrangements."



The visitors from Athens were demanding and Catherine found that she had very little time for herself. Haley, Renard, and Mattusi had had several meetings with Wim Vandeen, and Catherine was amused at how their attitudes had changed.



"He does all this without a calculator?" Haley marveled.



"That's right."



"I've never seen anything like it."



Catherine was impressed with Atanas Stavich. The young boy was the hardest worker she had ever seen. He was at the office when Catherine arrived in the morning, and he was there after everyone else had left. He was always smiling and eager to please. He reminded Catherine of a trembling puppy. Somewhere in his past, someone had badly mistreated him. Catherine resolved to talk to Alan Hamilton about Atanas. There has to be some way to build his self-confidence, Catherine thought. I'm sure Alan could help him.



"You know the kid is in love with you, don't you?" Evelyn said one day.



"What are you talking about?"



"Atanas. Haven't you seen that worshipful look in his eyes? He follows you around like a lost sheep."



Catherine laughed. "You're imagining things."



On an impulse, Catherine invited Atanas to lunch.



"In - in a restaurant?"



Catherine smiled. "Yes, of course."



His face flushed. "I - I don't know, Miss Alexander." He looked down at his ill-fitting clothes. "You would be ashamed for people to see me with you."



"I don't judge people by their clothes," Catherine said firmly. "I'll make a reservation."



She took Atanas to lunch at Lyons Corner House. He sat across from her, awed by his surroundings. "I - I've never been in a place like this. It is so beautiful."



Catherine was touched. "I want you to order anything you want."



He studied the menu and shook his head. "Everything is too expensive."



Catherine smiled. "Don't worry about it. You and I are working for a very wealthy man. I'm sure he would want us to have a good lunch." She did not tell him that she was paying for it.



Atanas ordered a shrimp cocktail and a salad, a roast chicken with fried potatoes, and he finished off his lunch with chocolate cake with ice cream.



Catherine watched him eat in amazement. He had such a small frame. "Where do you put it all?"



Atanas said shyly, "I never gain weight."



"Do you like London, Atanas?"



He nodded. "What I've seen of it, I like very much."



"You worked as an office boy in Athens?"



He nodded. "For Mr. Demiris." There was a note of bitterness in his voice.



"Didn't you enjoy it?"



"Forgive me - it is not my place to say it, but I do not think Mr. Demiris is a nice man. I...I do not like him." The young boy glanced around quickly as though he might have been overheard. "He - never mind."



Catherine thought it best not to pursue it further. "What made you decide to come to London, Atanas?"



Atanas said something so softly that Catherine could not hear him.



"I beg your pardon?"



"I want to be a doctor."



She looked at him, curious. "A doctor?"



"Yes, ma'am. I know it sounds foolish." He hesitated, then went on. "My family comes from Macedonia and all my life I have heard stories about the Turks coming into our village and killing and torturing our people. There were no doctors to help the wounded. Now, the village is gone and my family was wiped out. But there are still many wounded people in the world. I want to help them." He lowered his eyes, embarrassed. "You must think I'm crazy."



"No," Catherine said quietly. "I think that's wonderful. So you came to London to study medicine?"



"Yes, ma'am. I'm going to work days and go to school nights. I'm going to become a doctor."



There was a ring of determination in his voice. Catherine nodded. "I believe you will. You and I are going to talk more about it. I have a friend who might be able to help you. And I know a wonderful restaurant where we can have lunch next week."



At midnight, a bomb exploded in Spyros Lambrou's villa. The blast tore out the front of the house and killed two servants. Spyros Lambrou's bedroom was destroyed, and the only reason he survived was because at the last moment he and his wife had changed their plans and decided to attend a dinner party given by the mayor of Athens.



The following morning, a note was sent to his office reading, "Death to capitalists." It was signed: "The Hellenic Revolutionary Party."



"Why would they do a thing like this to you?" asked a horrified Melina.



"They didn't," Spyros said bluntly. "It was Costa."



"You - you have no proof of that."



"I don't need any proof. Don't you understand yet what you are married to?"



"I - I don't know what to think."



"Melina, as long as that man is alive, we are both in danger. He will stop at nothing."



"Can't you go to the police?"



"You said it yourself. I have no proof. They would laugh at me." He took her hands in his. "I want you to get out of there. Please. Go as far away as you can."



She stood there for a long time. When she finally spoke, it was as though she had reached a decision of great importance. "All right, Spyros. I will do what I must."



He hugged her. "Good. And don't worry. We'll find some way to stop him."



Melina sat in her bedroom alone during the long afternoon, her mind trying to take in what was happening. So, her husband had really meant his threat to destroy her and her brother. She could not let him go through with it. And if their lives were in danger, so was the life of Catherine Douglas. She's going to work for Costa in London. I will warn her, Melina thought. But I must do more than that. I must destroy Costa. I must stop him from harming anyone else. But how? And then, the answer came to her. Of course! she thought. It's the only way. Why didn't I think of it before?