The Other Side of Midnight

"Seven years! You must be very good at your job."

"You bet I am."

"Perhaps you could recommend a good housekeeper for me. I've been thinking about buying a place on the beach at Rafina. My problem is, I need privacy so I can work. As I remember those villas, they're all bunched together."

"Oh, no, sir. Each villa is separated by a big wall."

"Oh, good. And they're not crowded next to one another?"

"No, sir, not at all. Those villas are at least a hundred yards away from each other. I know one that's up for sale. You'd have all the privacy you need and I can recommend my sister to do the housekeeping for you. She's good and she's tidy and she cooks a bit."

"Well, thank you, Mrs. Kasta, that sounds wonderful. Perhaps I could call her this afternoon."

"She does a bit of day work. She'll be home at six."

"What time is it now?"

"I don't carry a watch."

"Ah. There's a large clock on the wall over there. What does it say?"

"Well, it's hard to make out. It's clear across the room."

"How far away would you say that clock was?"

"About--er--fifty feet."

"Twenty-three feet, Mrs. Kasta. No more questions."

It was the fifth day of the trial. Doctor Israel Katz's missing leg was paining him again. While he was performing an operation, he could stand on his artificial leg for hours on end, and it never bothered him. But sitting here without the intense concentration to divert his attention, the nerve ends kept sending memory messages to a limb that was no longer there. Katz shifted restlessly in his seat, trying to ease the pressure on his hip. He had tried to see Noelle every day since he had arrived in Athens but with no success. He had spoken to Napoleon Chotas, and the lawyer had explained that Noelle was too upset to see old friends and that it would be best to wait until the trial was over. Israel Katz had asked him to tell Noelle that he was here to help her in every way he could, but he could not be certain that she ever received the message. He had sat in court day after day, hoping Noelle would look his way, but she never even glanced at the spectators.

Israel Katz owed his life to her, and he felt frustrated because there was no way he could help repay that debt. He had no idea how the trial was going or whether Noelle would be convicted or acquitted. Chotas was good. If any man in the world could free Noelle it was he. Yet somehow Israel Katz was filled with unease. The trial was far from over. There could still be some surprises ahead.

A witness for the prosecution was being sworn in.

"Your name?"

"Christian Barbet."

"You are a French national, Mr. Barbet?"

"Yes."

"And where is your residence?"

"In Paris."

"Would you tell the Court your occupation?"

"I am the owner of a private detective agency."

"And where is that agency located?"

"The main office is in Paris."

"What kind of cases do you handle?"

"Many kinds...commercial pilfering, missing persons, surveillance for jealous husbands or wives..."