Crying Blue Murder (MIRA) Read Online Free PDF Page A

third.’
    ‘Fucking Greek postal service,’ Ozal said, spitting strands of tobacco on to the gravel. ‘It must have sat in a bag they forgot about until recently.’
    Mavros compared the writing on the two cards. It was similar, although the Istanbul one was in capitals. ‘And you want me to go down to Trigono to look for Rosa? See if she went back there?’
    ‘Yeah. Maybe she met some guy after all.’
    ‘I take it the Greek police aren’t interested?’
    Ozal stubbed out his cigarette. ‘Your guy Kriaras got his sidekicks to call the police department on Trigono, but they didn’t have a clue. That’s why he put me on to you.’
    Mavros was studying the Turkish-American. ‘Why don’t you take a trip down there yourself?’
    ‘I haven’t got any free time right now,’ Ozal replied. ‘I’ve got a shitload of meetings here and in Istanbul over the next week. Anyway, what’s the use of me going down there? You’re the local expert.’
    ‘Not in the islands.’

    ‘You want this job or not?’ the Turkish-American asked. ‘What’s your problem, Alex? An all-expenses-paid trip to a holiday island? Sounds like a great deal to me.’
    So why are you paying me to enjoy myself? Mavros wondered. Why is your business more important than your family? He looked at the Turkish-American. ‘You’re in the antiques trade.’
    Ozal returned the look curiously. ‘Yeah. How d’you know that?’ He stared into Mavros’s eyes, a puzzled expression spreading across his face.
    ‘You mentioned earlier that you went to Edinburgh for an auction.’ Mavros looked away, aware that Ozal had noticed the brown marking in his left eye. It was usually women who spotted it.
    The Turkish-American’s expression lightened. ‘Oh, right. Smart guy. You pay attention. I like that.’
    ‘I need to think about it,’ Mavros said, closing his notebook. ‘Don’t worry, that won’t take long. Can I ring you tonight?’
    ‘Jesus, you’re a hard man to convince,’ Ozal complained. ‘All right, call me at the Intercontinental at ten.’ He got to his feet, one hand massaging his backside, and picked up the photos and postcards. He started to put them back in his case then changed his mind. ‘Here, you keep these. You can drop them off at the hotel if you don’t go for it. Maybe they’ll help you make the right decision.’
    Mavros nodded. ‘Maybe they will.’ He watched as Ozal moved towards the Fat Man, tossed him a couple of thousand drachmas—provoking no response—and left.
    And maybe they won’t, he thought. The idea of leaving the city for a barren rock inhabited by tourist-fleecers, fishermen and goats wasn’t very enticing, even if Rosa Ozal definitely was.
    The Fat Man raised his eyes from the book as Mavros came up to the counter a few minutes later. ‘Alex,’ he said, looking concerned, ‘do you realise that you look like shit? You’ve lost weight, your fingernails are bitten to hell and your face is all pasty.’
    ‘Thanks, you mountain of flesh.’ Mavros handed over some notes. ‘You look wonderful yourself.’
    ‘No, seriously. You need a holiday.’
    ‘Not you as well,’ Mavros said with a groan.
    The Fat Man shrugged. ‘Only trying to look out for you, my friend. If you go on like this, that woman of yours is going to take fright. What’s her name again?’
    ‘Niki,’ Mavros said. ‘Don’t talk to me about Niki,’ he continued over his shoulder as he headed for the door. ‘I’m the one who’s taking fright.’
    The Fat Man laughed. ‘You really know how to pick them, don’t you, Alex? You’re too handsome for your own good, my boy.’
    ‘Not a problem you have to stay awake at night over.’
    ‘Very funny. No, seriously, it’s that weird eye of yours that attracts them. Like flies to—’
    ‘It’s a mark of my mixed heritage,’ Mavros said in an elevated tone. ‘How dare you equate it to a display of sexual power? It’s a metaphor, a poetic marriage of—’
    ‘It’s a nasty