"I'm sorry," MacLean said. "I'm a little upset."
Angelo was not an unintelligent man.
"This is because of the Americans?"
"Some bad people are after me. These Americans may have been sent to find me. I was stupid and told them I was going on the hydrofoil. I'm not sure if they came alone. They may have someone watching at the gate."
Angelo nodded. "I can take you to the mainland by boat. You will need a car."
"I was hoping you could arrange to rent one for me," MacLean said. He handed Angelo his credit card, which he had tried not to use before, knowing it could be traced.
Angelo called the car rental office on the mainland. He spoke a few minutes and hung up. "Everything is taken care of. They will leave the keys in the car."
"Angelo, I don't know how I can repay you."
"No payment. Give a big gift next time you're in church."
MacLean had a light dinner at a
secluded cafe, where he found himself glancing with apprehension at the other tables. The evening passed without event. On the way back to the monastery, he kept looking over his shoulder.
The wait was agonizing. He felt trapped in his room, but he reminded himself that the walls were at least a foot thick and the door could withstand a battering ram. A few minutes after midnight, he heard a soft knock on the door.
Angelo took his bag and led the way along the seawall to a set of stairs that went down to a stone platform used by swimmers for diving. By the light of an electric torch, MacLean could see a small motorboat tied up to the platform. They got into the boat. Angelo was reaching for the mooring line when quiet footfalls could be heard on the steps.
"Out for a midnight cruise?" said the sweet voice of Emma Harris.
"You don't suppose Dr. MacLean was leaving without saying good-bye," her husband said.
After his initial surprise, MacLean found his tongue. "What happened to your Texas drawl, Mr. Harris?"
"Oh, that. Not very authentic, I must admit."
"Don't fret, dear. It was good enough to fool Dr. MacLean Although I must admit that we had a little luck in completing our errand. We were sitting in that delightful little cafe when you happened by. It was nice of you to let us take your picture so we could check it against your file photo. We don't like to make mistakes."
Her husband gave an avuncular chuckle. "I remember saying, "Step into my parlor ..." "
" '... Said the spider to the fly." "
They broke into laughter.
"You were sent by the company," MacLean said.
"They're very clever people," Gus said. "They knew you would be on the lookout for someone who looked like a gangster."
"It's a mistake a lot of people have made," Emma said, a sad note in her voice. "But it keeps us in business, doesn't it, Gus? Well. It was lovely traveling in Greece. But all good things must come to an end."
Angelo had listened to the conversation with a puzzled expression on his face. He was unaware of the danger they were in. Before MacLean could stop him, he reached over to untie the boat.
"Excuse us," he said. "We must go."
They were the last words he would ever utter.
There was the muffled thut of a silenced gun and a scarlet tongue of fire licked the darkness. Angelo clutched his chest and made a gurgling sound. Then he toppled from the boat into the water.
"Bad luck to shoot a monk, my dear," Gus said to his wife.
"He wasn't wearing his cassock," she said, with a pout in her voice. "How was I to know?"