Free The Oracle by Valerio Massimo Manfredi Page B

immediately.’ The sergeant lifted the telephone receiver and dialled an internal extension.
    Sitting on the other side of Karamanlis’s desk were Roussos and Karagheorghis, charged with making Heleni Kaloudis and Claudio Setti disappear as though they had never existed. At the telephone’s ring the captain interrupted his careful instructions and answered with an annoyed tone: ‘What is it? I said I wasn’t to be disturbed.’
    ‘Captain, there’s a certain Admiral Bogdanos here, and he says he must speak with you immediately.’
    ‘I can’t now. Tell him to wait.’
    He had spoken so loudly that the navy officer, standing right in front of the sergeant, heard him. His eyes flashed with anger: ‘Tell him to report to me within one minute if he doesn’t want to end up court-martialled. Remind him that a state of emergency is in effect.’
    Karamanlis got to his feet. ‘It’ll be dark soon,’ he was saying to his men. ‘Carry on exactly as I told you.’ He took his cap from the coat rack and went to the entrance. He strode down the corridor leading to the front desk, opened the glass door, and found the navy officer standing in front of him, legs wide, arms crossed behind his back.
    His eyes dropped to the cap sitting on a chair. He was probably a member of the joint chiefs of staff, or the Junta itself. Karamanlis attempted to put on a tough demeanour nonetheless.
    ‘May I know, Admiral, why you have interrupted my work at such a delicate moment? And may I see your identification and your credentials?’
    The officer gestured peremptorily with his gloved hand and turned away, walking to a corner of the room reserved for the officer on duty. Karamanlis followed him, abashed.
    ‘You are a fool,’ hissed the admiral, turning abruptly. ‘How could you think of holding foreign citizens prisoner? Citizens from two of our most important allies? Haven’t you seen what the foreign press is writing about us? We stand accused of infamy; important loans to our National Bank have been suspended. All we needed was for you to create a diplomatic incident! The French boy, Charrier, and the Italian, Claudio Setti, what the hell have you done with them?’
    Karamanlis felt his knees buckle: he had to be a secret-service agent to know so much!
    ‘Well? I’m waiting for an answer.’
    Karamanlis tried bluffing: ‘Your information is incorrect, Admiral. We are holding no foreigners here.’
    The officer froze him with a stare: ‘Don’t make your situation any worse than it is, Captain. Anyone can make a mistake, and I can understand how, due to an excess of zeal, you may have taken certain initiatives. But if you don’t collaborate, you’re risking much more than your career. My superiors have entrusted me with correcting this damned business immediately, before it gets out of hand. Now talk, for God’s sake.’
    Karamanlis gave up: ‘Charrier was interrogated until he revealed the names of his accomplices. We sent him to France with a travel order. He left on the 4 p.m. Air France flight yesterday.’
    Bogdanos reacted angrily, nervously punching his left hand: ‘Damn it! This will set off a scandal. The French government will be up in arms; we’ll never hear the end of it.’
    ‘The boy won’t say a thing. He’s the first to want this story buried.’
    ‘What about the Italian?’
    ‘He’s . . . dying.’
    ‘An interrogation, I presume?’
    Karamanlis nodded.
    ‘I imagined as much. Turn him over to me now. If he dies, we have to simulate an accident and invent an explanation for his relatives and the Italian press.’
    ‘I’m taking care of it, Admiral.’
    ‘Goddamn you, do as I say or you’ll have to explain all this to a military court, I swear it. I don’t trust you. I’ll take care of this matter personally.’
    Karamanlis hesitated a moment: ‘Follow me, then,’ he said, walking towards the hall. They went out of a side door which led on to a little courtyard at the back of headquarters. A