The Other Side of Midnight

"I advised him to get a reading from Madame Piris." He was silent, his thoughts prowling restlessly in some dark arena of the past.

"Did he go?" Catherine finally asked.

"What? Oh, yes. She told Vasilly that death was going to come to him unexpectedly and quickly and warned him to beware of a lion at noon. There are no lions in Greece, except for a few old mangy ones at the zoo and the stone ones you have seen on Delos."

Catherine could feel the tension in Pappas' voice as he continued.

"Vasilly went to the zoo personally to check the cages to make sure that the animals were secure, and he made inquiries as to any wild animals that might have recently been brought into Athens. There were none.

"A week went by and nothing happened, and Vasilly decided that the old witch had been wrong and that he had been a superstitious fool for paying any attention to her. On a Saturday morning I dropped by the police station to pick him up. It was his son's fourth birthday, and we were going to take a boat trip to Kyron to celebrate.

"I drove up in front of the station just as the clock in the Town Hall was striking twelve. As I reached the entrance, there was a tremendous explosion from inside the building. I hurried inside to Vasilly's office." His voice sounded stiff and awkward. "There was nothing left of the office--or of Vasilly."

"How horrible," Catherine murmured.

They walked on for a moment in silence. "But the witch was wrong, wasn't she?" Catherine asked. "He wasn't killed by a lion."

"Ah, but he was, you see. The police reconstructed what had happened. As I told you, it was the boy's birthday. Vasilly's desk was piled with gifts that he was going to bring to his son. Someone had brought in a birthday gift, a toy, and laid it on Vasilly's desk."

Catherine felt the blood leaving her face. "A toy lion."

Count Pappas nodded. "Yes. 'Beware of a lion at noon.'"

Catherine shuddered. "That gives me the creeps."

He looked down at her sympathetically. "Madame Piris is not a 'fun' fortune-teller to go to."

They had crossed through the park and reached Piraios Street. An empty taxi was passing by. The Count hailed it, and ten minutes later Catherine was back at her apartment.

As she prepared for bed, she told Larry the story, and as she told it, her flesh began to crawl again. Larry held her tightly and made love to her, but it was a long time before Catherine was able to fall asleep.

NOELLE AND CATHERINE

Athens: 1946

15

If it had not been for Noelle Page, Larry Douglas would have had no worries. He was where he wanted to be, doing what he wanted to do. He enjoyed his job, the people he met, and the man for whom he worked. On the ground his life was equally satisfactory. When he was not flying, he spent a good part of his time with Catherine; but because Larry's job was so mobile, Catherine was not always aware of where he was, and Larry found innumerable opportunities to go out on his own. He went to parties with Count Pappas and Paul Metaxas, his copilot, and a satisfying number of them turned into orgies. Greek women were filled with passion and fire. He had found a new one, Helena, a stewardess who worke

d for Demiris, and when they had a stopover away from Athens, she and Larry shared a hotel room. Helena was a beautiful, slim, dark-eyed girl, and insatiable. Yes, everything considered, Larry Douglas decided that his life was perfect.

Except for Demiris' blond bitch mistress.

Larry had not the slightest clue as to what made Noelle Page despise him, but whatever it was, it was endangering his way of life. Larry had tried being polite, aloof, friendly, and each time Noelle Page succeeded in making him look like a fool. Larry knew that he could go to Demiris, but he had no illusions about what would happen if it came to a choice between him and Noelle. Twice, he had arranged for Paul Metaxas to take over Noelle's flight but shortly before each flight Demiris' secretary had telephoned to tell him that Mr. Demiris would like to have Larry pilot her himself.

On an early morning in late November Larry received a call that he was to fly Noelle Page to Amsterdam that afternoon. Larry checked with the airport and received a negative report on the weather in Amsterdam. A fog was beginning to roll in and by afternoon they expected zero visibility. Larry phoned Demiris' secretary to tell her that it would be impossible to fly to Amsterdam that day. The secretary said she would get back to him. Fifteen minutes later she phoned to say that Miss Page would be at the airport at two o'clock, ready to take off. Larry checked with the airport again, thinking that perhaps there had been a break in the weather, but the report was the same.

"Jesus Christ," Paul Metaxas exclaimed. "She must be in one hell of a hurry to get to Amsterdam."

But Larry had the feeling that Amsterdam was not the issue. This was a contest of wills between the two of them. For all he cared Noelle Page could crash into a mountain peak and good riddance, but Larry was damned if he was going to risk his own neck for the stupid bitch. He tried to phone Demiris to discuss it with him, but he was in a meeting and unavailable. Larry slammed down the phone, seething. He had no choice now but to go to the airport and try to talk his passenger out of making the flight. He arrived at the airport at 1:30. By three o'clock Noelle Page had not appeared. "She probably changed her mind," Metaxas said.

But Larry knew better. As the time wore on, he became more and more furious, until he realized that that was her intention. She was trying to drive him into a rash action that would cost him his job. Larry was in the terminal building talking to the airport manager when Demiris' familiar gray Rolls drove up and Noelle Page emerged. Larry walked outside to meet her.

"I'm afraid the flight's off, Miss Page," he said, making his voice flat. "The airport at Amsterdam is fogged in."

Noelle looked past Larry as though he did not exist and said to Paul Metaxas, "The plane carries automatic landing equipment, does it not?"

"Yes, it does," Metaxas said, awkwardly.