Free The Dark Side of the Island by Jack Higgins Page B

and the Nazi flag hung like a limp rag in the great heat.
     
     
Lomax sat beside her, his back against the load of firewood they carried, one foot on a shaft, the other swinging idly.
     
     
In the old reefer jacket, broken boots and shabby tweed cap she had brought him, he looked like a typical peasant from one of the mountain farms.
     
     
Katina had a scarf round her head peasant-fashion and wore a faded print dress with no sleeves that made her arms look very thin. She'd hardly spoken since leaving Van Horn's villa, but her eyes were clear and there was a freshness to her face that indicated that she had slept well.
     
     
She reined in the mare as a squad of soldiers in field grey cut across their path and Lomax eyed them with professional interest.
     
     
"Old men and boys," he said as they started forward again. "They've been draining Greece and the islands of their best troops for months now. At least it proves who's winning the war."
     
     
As they turned on to the waterfront, he leaned forward to get a view of the harbour. The brightly painted caicques were all drawn up on the strip of beach and fishermen sat in the shade of the stone wall and mended their nets.
     
     
An E-boat moved out to sea, churning the water at its stern into a white froth, sending waves rippling across the surface of the harbour.
     
     
Several more were moored to the pier, their crews busy on deck, stripped to the waist in the hot sun, cleaning and polishing.
     
     
"Are there always as many E-boats in the harbour?" Lomax said.
     
     
She nodded. "There are as many as you see here out on patrol."
     
     
She turned the mare into a narrow side street on the corner of which stood The Little Ship and Lomax dropped to the ground and went and opened the double gates that gave access to the yard at the rear of the building.
     
     
He pulled a small military pack from under the firewood and they went inside and moved along the whitewashed corridor. He could hear the murmur of voices, a glass clinked and someone started to play a gay tune on a bouzouki. There was a bead curtain at the end of the corridor beside a flight of stairs and Katina motioned Mm to stay and went through.
     
     
He peered through the curtain into the bar. It was a cool, pleasant room with whitewashed walls and a vaulted roof like a wine cellar. It was crowded with fishermen. There didn't seem to be a single German soldier in the place.
     
     
The curtain parted and Katina stepped through followed by a round-faced, kindly looking woman in her late thirties with bright blue eyes.
     
     
"This is Aunt Sarah," she said. "The others are already here and waiting in iny uncle's room. Mr. Van Horn arrived ten minutes ago.'.
     
     
Mrs. Pavlo smiled and led the way upstairs.
     
     
"She seems to be taking all this with remarkable calm," Lomax whispered.
     
     
Katina smiled. "She has been married to my uncle for twenty years. She says anything can happen and usually does. She loves him very much."
     
     
Mrs. Pavlo opened a door at the head of the stairs and led the way in. The room was hazy with tobacco smoke. Alexias was propped up in a great bed, his pipe in his mouth. There were several other people in the room, but the only one Lomax knew was Van Horn who sat beside the bed, smoking a cigarette in a silver holder.
     
     
"Ah, Lomax, my good friend. We've been waiting for you." Alexias grinned. "Here he is, everybody. The Night-comer in the flesh."
     
     
There was a sudden silence as they all turned to look at Lomax curiously and he moved quickly from person to person as Alexias introduced them.
     
     
The parish priest, Father John Mikali, was first by convention. A dignified old man with a white beard and sombre in his dark robes, he showed no emotion at all and Lomax sensed a coldness in his manner.
     
     
A tall, bearded man named John Pares came next. He looked like the captain of a fishing boat and turned out to be the local electrician. Sitting beside