Cloak of Silence (Jake Harding Adventures Book 1)

The monastery gates appeared in the headlights, firmly closed. Richard stopped in front of them, but he was not in the mood for any delay and he nudged them with the front of the vehicle. The bolt securing the gates parted with the sound of a pistol shot and they swung drunkenly open. A few moments later the tyres of the Defender were crunching noisily on the gravel outside the imposing front door. Spyros sprang out and pulled savagely on the bell rope while Richard gave a couple of blasts on the horn before joining Spyros at the door. Cath waited in the back of the vehicle.

After a few minutes, the door was opened cautiously by an elderly monk, half rimmed glasses balanced on the bridge of his nose.

Spyros demanded to see Father Theo immediately but the monk replied gently that the reverend archimandrite was sleeping.

He stood barring the way and they couldn’t bring themselves to force their way past the old man. But after a standoff of several minutes, Father Theo himself appeared in the hallway. He looked at them with some trepidation but invited them in.

The old monk reluctantly let the midnight visitors past and closed the door behind them. They followed Theo in silence across the flagstone floor and up two flights of stairs.

Under different circumstances Richard would have been interested in seeing where the abbot of Agios Petros lived. As it was, he spared hardly a glance at the old fashioned furniture, laden bookshelves and heavily framed pictures.

The old monk waited quietly at the outer door, his face a picture of concern.

Theo couldn’t be hurried and offered them coffee, which they declined.

‘You have news?’ he asked at last when they were seated to his satisfaction in the deep green armchairs.

‘Is one of your brethren Brother Warren?’ It was more of a statement of fact than a question.

‘Yes, Richard,’ Theo paled slightly. ‘Is there a problem?’

‘We have him locked up in Spyros’ shed. Hopefully the police will arrive soon and arrest him.’

‘Arrest him?’ Theo’s benign expression evaporated. ‘Why?’

‘It seems that he and another one of your monks, Father John, caused Zoë’s disappearance.’

‘No, no,’ Theo was shaking his head.

‘Where is Father John now?’

Theo looked hurt at the brusque questioning. ‘It is late. I expect he is sleeping.’

‘Take me to his quarters,’ Richard said, getting to his feet.

‘Now?’ Theo looked shocked.

‘Yes, now. If he is at the centre of this I want to see him right now.’

‘I will have him summoned.’ Theo called out and the old monk re-appeared almost immediately.

Theo gave instructions in Greek and his colleague replied, ‘endaksi’, and left the apartment.

‘You have an old stone building down at the beach?’

‘Yes, there is such a building,’ Theo replied cautiously.

‘If you have trouble believing me, have a look there. You will find eight refugees there waiting patiently for a boat.’

‘Refugees you say? They are pilgrims.’

‘Pilgrims my foot. They wouldn’t be creeping around after dark if it were legal. You know damn well what’s going on. Refugees, asylum seekers, pilgrims, call them what you want, they’re migrants paying huge fees to get into Europe. That’s what’s going on here.’

The only sound was an old clock ticking deliberately on top of a chest of drawers. Theo drew in a long breath. ‘They force me to use Agios Petros,’ he said quietly, almost as though he was speaking his private thoughts to himself.

‘Force? How force?’ Spyros asked gruffly.

‘I cannot say,’ Theo’s eyes were downcast.

‘Theo, listen to me.’ Richard barely controlled his anger. ‘My daughter and my son and four youngsters that I am responsible for are missing tonight.’

Theo looked up and met Richard’s penetrating gaze. Spyros said something and Theo turned to look at him. His face was pinched with anxiety. Eventually he answered in Greek, slowly and heavily. He reached into a pocket in his robe and pulled out a large white handkerchief as he spoke.

Spyros caught Richard’s eye and they waited while Theo blew his nose noisily. ‘English, please,’ Spyros said peremptorily.

‘They told me they were bringing pilgrims from Africa to go to Rome. Good Christian people. They needed a stopping-off point and the monastery would be ideal. I was surprised. Who would travel from Africa to Rome via Corfu? But they said to save money, for these are poor people you understand, they would come on a big ship and be brought on a small boat to here. Some kind man would take them on a fishing boat to Italy. Our monastery is after all Agios Petros, named for the apostle St Peter, who was known as a fisher of men.’

Theo dabbed at his eyes with the hanky but Richard had no sympathy. ‘And when you say ‘they told you’, who exactly do you mean?’

‘Father John was a missionary in Africa. He spent many years…’

‘And he organised this?’ Richard cut him short.

‘Yes, he organised it all.’

‘And it didn’t occur to you that this might be a criminal activity?’

Before Theo could answer, there was a knock on the door. The three men looked up expectantly, but it was only the old monk. He spoke in Greek and Spyros sniffed derisively.

‘He is not in his quarters,’ Theo said sadly.

‘Theo, now listen to me,’ Richard said. ‘I’ve asked you about this ‘Syntagma’ place before. Where is it?’

‘I have lived here nearly all my life,’ the abbot said sincerely. ‘And I have not heard of any such place near here.’

‘Brother Warren let slip that Zoë is at Syntagma. Somewhere not far from here, on the coast. We have to find it.’

Theo’s brow furrowed but eventually he shook his head.

‘Theo!’ Richard’s voice rose in frustration. ‘You are in charge of this monastery, right? Now what in heaven’s name is going on?’

Richard’s gaze bored into Theo. The monk turned away but found Spyros staring at him with ill-concealed hostility.

‘As I sit here before God, I have only done what is best for the monastery…’ Theo brought the hanky to his face again and tears flowed down his cheeks.

Richard and Spyros exchanged looks. ‘We’re wasting our time,’ Richard said quietly.

But Spyros held up a hand in a gesture of patience. He spoke to Theo in Greek, his tone gentle and persuasive. There was a pause and, with an imploring expression on his face, Theo came out with a torrent of words, tumbling over each other in his anxiety. Spyros said a few words of encouragement, while Richard sat back in his chair, unable to follow what was being said.

Theo put out a hand to Spyros who held it awkwardly as the flow of words gradually dried up. He called out and the door immediately opened and the attendant monk appeared, looking alarmed at seeing his archimandrite so distressed.

Theo looked imploringly at Spyros as he got up to leave. ‘If you find Taki, send him back to me.’

‘Dear God, is Taki missing too?’

Theo nodded silently, tears in his rheumy eyes.

As they left, Richard glanced back to see the monk reaching into a drinks cabinet and producing a bottle of Crown of Thorns liqueur.

‘I told him to give him a drink,’ Spyros commented as they walked quickly down the stairs.

‘Everything okay?’ Cath asked anxiously from the back as Richard started the Land Rover.

‘They’re blackmailing him,’ Spyros said. ‘But he doesn’t know exactly what these people are doing. Kept his mouth shut and his eyes closed. But before they came here they used a ruined building at the old fortress in Corfu Town. There’s a small harbour right there. It’s the best chance we have.’

‘Right, let’s go to the old fortress,’ Richard said as he raced the Defender past the shattered monastery gates. ‘We could stop at the taverna and rough up Warren; get him to tell us what he knows. That’s if the police haven’t arrived yet.’

‘I’m okay with that,’ Spyros replied.

‘Did he say who’s doing the blackmailing?’

‘No, he didn’t say.’

‘Or how they were able to blackmail him?’ Richard asked as they swung around the hairpin bend above the taverna.

But Spyros wasn’t paying attention. He was staring in dismay at the taverna.

‘What’s the matter?’ Richard asked sharply.

‘My car is gone,’ Spyros said.

He jumped out of the Land Rover almost before it had stopped and ran into the taverna. Richard told Cath to stay where she was and took a torch from the vehicle before racing down the side of the building. The door of the corrugated iron shed was swinging slowly in the light breeze, hanging on one hinge. One glance inside was enough; Brother Warren had gone.

Richard shook his head as he shone the torch around. Frayed ropes were lying on the floor and there were rough edges on the corrugated iron sheeting that could have been used to saw through them. He hurried into the taverna and found Spyros kneeling on the kitchen floor next to a sobbing Petrina. He was carefully untying the cord from a monk’s robe that had been used to tie her up.

She was crying and talking non-stop at the same time.

Spyros stared up at Richard with a horrified expression. ‘The monk has taken Selena away with a knife at her throat.’