The Silver Stain Read Online Free PDF Page B

not impress him.
    ‘A Ju 52 transport aircraft – they dropped paratroopers – and an Me109 fighter,’ the director said proudly. ‘We’ll be filming more aerial shots tomorrow.’ He shrugged. ‘But you’ll be busy finding that fuckin’ dyke.’
    ‘Unless I find her today.’
    Jannet gave him a thoughtful look. ‘Don’t get overambitious, my man. This is a big island.’ He grinned. ‘But if you do, you’re welcome to see the planes in action.’
    Mavros followed him towards a pair of cars. The director got into the first, a large dark-blue BMW, while Alice hung back.
    ‘The Jeep will take you to the shoot hotel. Ms Parks has been told to expect you. An account has been opened in your name for meals, car hire and so on, and you’ll find a cash advance in the safe in your room. We should exchange cell numbers.’ They did so. ‘I’ll be available to help you, subject to Mr Jannet’s needs. If you run into any difficulties with crew members, let me know. Will there be anything else?’
    ‘Sounds like you’ve thought of most things.’
    She smiled. ‘Mr Jannet will be expecting regular reports.’
    ‘Hey, Ali, shake your tail feather.’
    Mavros watched as her slim form inserted itself into the BMW. He’d have liked to know what Alice Quincy really thought about her boss, but she was almost as inscrutable as a jade Buddha. Even more, he’d have liked to know what else she knew about Maria Kondos and Cara Parks.
    The Jeep, with a parachute-festooned Freedom or Death logo on the door, was driven by a young man with a moustache Nietzsche would have been proud of.
    ‘First time in Crete?’ he asked, revealing a lower line of gleaming teeth.
    Mavros considered sticking to English, but decided he’d find out more by speaking Greek. He introduced himself, saying he was a writer from Athens.
    ‘Mikis Tsifakis,’ the driver replied. ‘You writing about the film?’
    Mavros nodded vaguely. ‘How about you? Contracted by the production company?’
    Mikis nodded happily. ‘My old man has hired out most of our fleet. That was him in the BMW.’
    ‘Good work?’
    ‘Ah, good enough. These Americans, they know how to keep their costs down.’
    ‘So, tell me, have you driven anyone famous?’
    The young man beamed. ‘You bet. When the old man’s busy, I drive Cara Parks.’
    ‘Wow, what’s she like in the flesh?’ Mavros asked, playing the part of the lust-driven fan.
    Mikis laughed. ‘Even more luscious than on screen. She’s nice, as well. She doesn’t have any airs. What I wouldn’t give for five minutes alone with that woman.’
    Mavros spotted another interesting angle. ‘I suppose she always has an entourage in tow.’
    ‘Not really. A couple of security guys and a stuck-up woman called Maria, who I’ve heard speak Greek, but she never bothers with me. She acts like Cara’s personal Cerberus.’
    ‘She’s got three heads?’
    Mikis glanced at him, grinning. ‘A tongue that’s three times more cutting than my grandmother’s.’
    Mavros looked at the citrus groves to his right and the almost constant line of hotels and villas on the left, before getting to the point. ‘I hear this Maria’s gone missing.’
    The driver’s face tightened. ‘Really? I didn’t know that.’
    Mavros wasn’t sure he was telling the truth, but he let it go. The Jeep took a left turn and stopped in front of an elaborate, barred gate. There was a column of TV vans and men with cameras on the roadside, a police officer watching them. A man dressed in traditional Cretan garb – high boots, baggy trousers, the vraka , and a tight headscarf, the mandili – came out of a hut and nodded at Mikis before admitting the vehicle.
    ‘The Heavenly Blue Resort,’ Mavros read on a gilt sign. ‘I’ve heard of this place.’
    ‘You should have,’ the young man said proudly. ‘Biggest and best hotel on the island. Mr Kersten brought in architects and designers from all over the world to upgrade it ten years