Hearts of Stone (41 page)

‘Let me speak to you. Please. There has to be a way to settle this without any more loss of life. I beg you. Talk to me.’

There was a brief silence before the voice inside came again. ‘Who are you?’ Your name?

‘Leutnant Muller. Leutnant Peter Muller.’

‘Peter . . . Holy God . . . Peter?’

Outside the cave, the air seemed to grow very cold quite suddenly and Peter trembled. He knew the voice. He recognised it, even now across the years, and the knowledge made him feel sick with grief. Of all people, why him? Why now? Why here? And then he recalled Eleni’s face on the hillside as she fled and he felt the full weight of the bitter joke that fate had played on them all. They had promised to meet again, and here was their youthful pledge come true. Come back to haunt them. He cleared his throat.

‘Andreas, is that you?’

‘Yes . . .’

‘And Eleni. Where is she?’ he asked, aware that she was probably already dead, her body somewhere down among the trees.

‘In here . . . With me.’

There was something in the tone of the last two words that struck Peter with anxiety.

‘Eleni, are you all right?’

‘She is wounded, Peter. Badly. Your men shot her . . .’ Andreas groaned. ‘My beautiful Eleni, shot.’

Peter closed his eyes for a moment. ‘Let me come in, Andreas. Let me speak to you and see if I can help. Please.’

There was a pause before Andreas replied. ‘Are you armed?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then throw your weapon inside, then come in with your hands raised. Keep them where I can see them.’

Peter breathed deeply, then unfastened his holster buckle and took out his pistol. He ejected the magazine and then, holding the weapon by the barrel, he edged into the mouth of the cave and tossed it towards the shadows at the rear. The metal clattered loudly on the rock floor. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust and then he saw the two bodies two metres away. Over to the rear he saw the cases stencilled with German insignia, and the jagged hole in a slab of rock and a further space beyond. It was just as Steiner had described it to him.

‘My God . . . It is true. The tomb of Odysseus.’ He stood and took a pace towards it.

‘Stop!’ Andreas shouted at him. ‘Stay there, by the entrance.’

Peter turned and saw the wavering muzzle of the Marlin sub-machine gun pointing towards him and backed up, hands raised. For a moment neither man spoke and then Eleni stirred and blinked and then clenched her eyes shut as she cried out in pain. Peter stared at her anxiously, and then saw the detonator lying at Andreas’s side.

‘What are you going to do?’ he asked gently. ‘Blow the cave up?’

‘I could do that.’

‘With you both inside?’

‘And you, Peter . . .’ Andreas winced, fighting a fresh wave of pain. ‘All three of us together. Like we once said it would be . . . Do you remember?’

‘Yes.’

Andreas smiled thinly. ‘I don’t suppose we ever thought it would be like this, eh?’

‘No. I wish to God it was not so.’

‘Nor I. Fate is cruel, my friend.’

Peter clutched at the last words desperately. ‘It doesn’t have to end this way, Andreas. You can live. And so can Eleni. I give you my word that you will not come to any harm if we all leave this cave together.’

Andreas shook his head. ‘Even if I accept your word, that would mean giving all this up to your Nazi masters.’ He waved a hand at the crates and the entrance of the tomb. ‘It would mean that you would steal what belongs to my people . . . What defines us . . . Our very history. No, I cannot allow that.’

‘But you cannot destroy it either,’ Peter protested. ‘This belongs to not just Greece, but all civilisation. You have no right to destroy it.’

‘I do not mean to destroy it. Just bury it. Make it safe. But yes, if that risks destroying it all, then it is better than to let you have it. You speak of civilisation . . .’ Andreas shook his head. ‘Germany has forfeited the right to be part of that world. I have seen the proof of it myself in the square at Lefkada.’

‘That is not Germany. That is the Nazis. Their time will pass. Better men will rule in Germany in the years to come.’

‘Let better men come and find the treasure then. I will not let the Nazis get their hands on it today. I swear it.’

Peter looked towards the tomb but he could not see inside it. So tantalisingly close to realising the lifelong dream of his father and yet within a moment of being blasted to fragments. Desperation filled his heart as he tried to form the words of his appeal to Andreas. ‘For pity’s sake, save yourself. Save Eleni, and save this for humanity . . . Is your heart made of stone, Andreas? Can you not see the immeasurable value of this?’ He gestured helplessly at the tomb.

‘Of course I can . . . That is why you must not have it.’ Andreas coughed and blood ran from his lips. He raised his hand to wipe his mouth and Peter eyed the detonator and tensed his muscles to make a leap for it. But the other man read his intention well and raised the gun.

‘Don’t.’

Peter eased himself back and held his hands higher as Andreas coughed again. When the fit had passed, he rested his hand on the plunger lever and stared across the cave at the German. ‘You ask what my heart is made of. What about yours? How can you be a part of the great evil that is done in the name of Germany? Are you so senseless that you do not see it? What matters is what we do now. What you can do to save Eleni. She needs your help, Peter.’

‘If I can get her out of here, I will see that her wound is treated.’

Andreas looked at her for a moment and continued gently, ‘Then do it. Take her first and come back for me.’

Peter worked his way over to Eleni and tenderly inspected the dressing, now soaked in her blood. Her breathing was shallow and her eyes opened and closed with a fluttering motion. He ached for her and was filled with dread that Eleni’s wound was mortal. Reaching under her body, he lifted her from the ground. The movement made Eleni stir and she groaned and her eyes opened and she suddenly started.

‘You . . . Bastard!’

She lifted her hand to slap him but lacked the strength to do more than strike him lightly. Eleni tried to push him away and cried out in frustration as Peter moved towards the mouth of the cave.

‘Andreas! Don’t let him take me! I will stay . . . With you.’

‘I will be with you, Eleni. I swear it. Peter, go. No! Wait.’ Andreas propped himself up and reached under his shirt. He slipped a fine chain over his head and held out a small silver locket to Peter. ‘Take this. For Eleni.’

Peter pocketed the chain.

‘One last thing . . .’ Andreas grimaced and gritted his teeth briefly. ‘Whatever happens, swear to me on your life that you will protect Eleni.’

‘I promise.’

‘Swear on you life!’

‘I swear it. Now we must go.’

Eleni shook her head. ‘No.’

Andreas looked away and waved his hand. ‘Go! Go.’

Peter did as he was bid and his body blocked the light entering the cave and cast flickering shadows across the uneven floor. Then the light returned and they were gone and Andreas could hear Peter’s boots fading as they descended the path. Despite what Peter had said, he did not trust the other Germans to hold back while Eleni was seen to. He covered the entrance with his Marlin and pulled up the plunger on the detonator.

Then he settled back and tried to find a position that offered him the most respite from his agony. He felt the drenched cloth of his jacket and realised that he had lost a great deal of blood. He knew that he could not be saved and found calmness in accepting his fate. His gaze settled on the entrance to the tomb and he smiled at the idea of his body resting alongside that of a legendary hero. They would spend the rest of eternity together, unless the Greek king’s grave was ever uncovered again, in which case future archaeologists would find his remains alongside those of Odysseus and be puzzled at the discovery of the bodies of two warriors together, but separated by three thousand years of history. He smiled weakly at the puzzle that would present.

Thought required more and more effort and he was aware of darkness creeping in at the periphery of his vision. His mouth filled with the taste of his blood and yet he felt so thirsty. And tired. So tired . . .

His eyes snapped open and he snatched a deep breath. He must not give in just yet. He must hold on long enough to ensure that Eleni was far enough away. Cold was seeping into his limbs and his hands started to tremble. Not yet! He cursed his frail body. No, not yet! But the icy tide of oblivion closed round him and threatened to draw him away into its dark depths. Summoning the last of his strength, Andreas laid his gun down beside him and reached for the detonator. He placed it on his chest, bracing it with his left hand as he closed his fingers around the plunger. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes and pictured Eleni as he had seen her on the boat on the way back from Meganissi all those years ago. So beautiful. So happy. He smiled with contentment, and pressed the plunger into the detonator box with all that remained of his fast-fading strength.

Peter had removed Steiner’s body and laid Eleni in the back of the car when a brilliant flash, followed immediately by a deafening roar, ripped through the valley. He turned at once and was struck by the concussion wave that hit him like a blow across his whole body. Instinctively he hunched over Eleni to protect her and a moment later the first of the debris rained down on the dig site and clattered off the car’s metal skin and cracked the windscreen. Slowly, as it seemed, the downfall eased and Peter sat up warily.

Around him the last echoes of the explosion still sounded off the sides of the surrounding hills. Over at the cliff a great cloud of dust billowed into the sky. Peter sat and stared as it began to clear and now he could see that a large section of the rock face had gone, leaving a jagged scar in the cliff. The blast had flattened the trees in front of it and overturned one of the armoured cars. Dazed and dust-covered figures were staggering out of the swirling dust at the foot of the cliff.

Peter blinked to clear his eyes and looked down at Eleni. Despite his efforts to cover her, a thin patina of dust and small clods of soil covered her and she coughed. He gently brushed her face clear and then eased her head up and rinsed her face with water from his canteen before letting her take a sip.

‘Sir?’

He looked up and saw the driver standing beside the car. The man looked dazed and confused. ‘What are your orders, sir?’

‘Orders?’ Peter looked at the devastation around him. One truck was still burning, the others had shattered windscreens. Bodies lay scattered across the dig site and huge boulders and slabs of rock were piled against the ruined cliff. There was no sign of the cave and he knew that all that it had once contained was now lost. He and Eleni were the the only survivors who knew what great treasures lay buried there. Perhaps lost forever. The numbing shock of it would pass, he hoped, but the grief would go on and on until the day he died.

He cleared his throat and turned his gaze back to the driver.

‘Get us out of here. The girl needs a doctor. Take us back to Lefkada.’

Chapter Thirty-Seven

London, November 2013

A
nna drained her glass and set it down thoughtfully as she reflected on what she had been told. ‘What happened afterwards, to Eleni?’

Dieter blinked. ‘I take it she has not told you.’

‘No. There are some things she could not recall.’

‘Very well, my grandfather took her to a good doctor in Lefkada and left her there, with instructions that she was to be moved into hiding as soon as it was safe to do so. Which was just as well. He was disciplined for leaving the scene of the explosion and for letting a prisoner escape. Eleni, that is. They searched the island for her but her people kept her safely hidden while she recovered. There was a reward, but no one came forward with any information.’ Dieter smiled briefly. ‘People like to protect their heroes. Heroines, I should say.’

‘What happened to Peter?’

A waiter was passing and Dieter called him to the table and looked questioningly at Anna. ‘Dessert?’

‘No thank you. Just coffee.’

‘Two coffees then,’ Dieter instructed the waiter who nodded and made off. ‘You were saying?’

‘What happened to your grandfather? You said he was disciplined.’

‘Oh yes . . . He was recalled to Berlin for interrogation into the circumstances of Steiner’s death and the failure of his mission to Lefkas. He told them as much as he could without giving anything away about Eleni. His superiors posted him to a penal battalion stationed on one of the Channel Islands, Alderney. There he remained until the very end of the war. When the Allies landed in Normandy they were content to leave the island garrisons alone. They were cut off, out of supply and slowly starved over the next year. After Hitler shot himself and Germany formally surrendered, the men of the Alderney garrison were the last soldiers to submit. By then, of course, they were in poor shape, skin and bones in worn-out uniforms.’ Dieter looked at her suddenly. ‘Not unlike some others.’

‘That was different,’ Anna replied deliberately. ‘I’m not sure there is much comparison.’

‘No? Perhaps not. But the experience left its scars. My grandfather’s health never really recovered after that. I don’t know if it was what he endured on Alderney that changed him, or whether it was what he had lost on Lefkas. Either way, living on islands did not seem to agree with him. He returned to Germany and studied medicine and abandoned his interest in history. The country had to be rebuilt from the ruins and needed doctors. I think he had seen too much death and wanted to make amends. To dedicate himself to saving lives. He met a nurse and married her. They had one son, my father. And so . . .’ he gestured to himself. ‘Anyway, my grandfather lived a long life. His wife died in nineteen ninety-eight and he followed her four years later.’

Anna smiled sadly as the waiter returned with their coffees. She poured some cream into her cup and stirred it into a muddy combination. ‘What will you do now?’

‘Do?’

‘About the tomb? You know where it is now and what it contains. Will you try to see if it can be found again?’

‘That is my intention, yes. There is too much of value there to be left buried. So much we can learn about the past. But I will need the help of your grandmother. She is the only one left alive who knows where the cave was. It would be much easier to find it with her assistance. If you can persuade her to help, then I can bring my findings to the right people. I am sure there will be no shortage of enthusiasm to find such a treasure.’

‘I see . . .’ Eleni raised her cup to take a sip. But it was still too hot to drink and she set the cup back down on the saucer and stared at Dieter. He was an interesting person, she decided. Not handsome in a Brad Pitt kind of way, but attractive nonetheless. And he shared her passion for history and seemed moral enough. They probably had much in common, she reflected, before forcing her thoughts back to the subject at hand. There was a growing conviction inside her that some things were better left buried. ‘I wonder if there’s much point in looking for the tomb, or at least what’s left of it.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘If the cave was blown up and Andreas brought the cliff down on it, and himself, then it’s likely that everything was destroyed. If you dig it all up, then I doubt you’ll find anything of value left. It’ll all be pulverised. Useless.’

‘Maybe.’ Dieter shrugged. ‘Maybe not. We can’t know unless we dig it up. It’ll be slow work, but something might be found.’

Anna thought for a moment and shook her head. ‘I can’t say I am comfortable with the idea.’

‘Why not?’ Dieter looked surprised.

‘It is not just a tomb, but a grave. That is also where Andreas’s body lies buried.’

‘So?’

‘It is too soon. There are people alive who knew him in life. Like my grandmother. It seems . . . wrong to disturb his resting place.’

‘I am sure his remains would be treated with respect.’

‘I don’t think you understand, Dieter. It wouldn’t be right. Oh, I can understand why you would want to find the tomb of Odysseus. When people have been dead long enough they simply become an historical artefact, along with everything else. Something to stick in a museum case.’ A mental image leapt into her mind of a school party she had once brought to the British Museum. She could recall the morbid pleasure in the faces of her students as they looked at the remains of a mummy and she shuddered at the thought that Andreas, whom she had never known but now knew so much about, and felt for, should ever be reduced to being such a display. Robbed of dignity. The most naked possible form of exposure. It made her shiver with pathos and disgust.

‘I think it should all be left in peace. At least for now.’

He frowned. ‘Leave it? Leave it alone? Why? Think of what is there. What we could learn from it. What secrets it would tell us about the past. Surely, as an historian, you understand its value?’

‘Yes, of course I do. But I am also a human being. Perhaps it would be better to leave it for a while longer, until Eleni has passed, and all those who knew Andreas. That long at least.’

‘You are being sentimental.’

‘I suppose you could accuse me of that. And perhaps I might accuse you of being insensitive in return.’

He hesitated before responding. ‘I don’t think so. I understand what you are saying, but this is too important a discovery to ignore.’

‘I am not saying ignore it. Just delay it a while. What difference can it make to leave it for a few more years? For the sake of Eleni. She’s my grandmother. She’s very special to me. Even more so given what I have learned about her . . .  She’s suffered enough loss in her life and I think she should be allowed to die in peace. That tomb is also the grave of the one man who was her true love. Let him be for a few more years. That’s all I ask, Dieter.’

He stared at her thoughtfully for a long time and then nodded. ‘Very well.’

Anna felt a surge of relief and gratitude sweep through her heart. ‘Thank you.’

‘I would very much like to have met Eleni,’ he mused. ‘It is a great pity that I won’t. The woman who captured my grandfather’s heart. She must have been an extraordinary individual.’

‘Yes she is.’ Anna smiled.

‘Then long may she continue to be.’

Their eyes met in a thoughtful embrace, before Dieter became self-conscious and glanced down at his hands. ‘So what happens now? Will I see you again?’

‘See me?’ Anna raised an eyebrow. She had not thought that this might be the last time she met him. ‘Why not? Later on. Perhaps then I can help you find what you are looking for.’

‘Yes. I’d like that.’ Dieter clasped his hands together.

There was a brief silence before he glanced at his watch. ‘I must go. I have a plane to catch.’

‘All right. I understand.’

He turned round in his seat and raised his hand. ‘Waiter! The bill.’

When he had paid, Dieter made to leave the table, then stopped. ‘There is just one last thing.’

He reached into his shoulder bag and took out an old tobacco tin. ‘This was amongst my grandfather’s effects. I did not realise its significance until after I had met you. Here, it is better that you have it.’ He set the tin down on the table and bowed his head in farewell and strode off between the tables, making for the stairs that led back to the ground floor of the museum.

With a sense of regret Anna watched him go. She had meant what she said. It would be good to see him again one day. Then she looked down at the tin and picked it up to examine it more closely. It was battered and spotted with rust and the Germanic script made the brand name unreadable. She opened it and saw inside a chain and a small silver locket. Easing it open she saw two black and white portraits of an infant and a woman and the images seemed to shimmer ever so slightly as she held the locket in her trembling fingers.