Valdini had been trying to pump me about the photograph. It was difficult to put him off. He was what schoolboys would call 'bumptious'. You hit him and he bounced. He had a hide like a brontosaurus. But in the end I managed to convince him that I regarded the matter as being of little importance and that I really felt that I had made a foolish mistake. The talk gradually drifted to strange means of conveyance, such as the slittovia. Mayne, I remember, was talking about riding the tubs on overhead haulage gear, when the cable machinery began to drone under our feet. The steady grinding sound of it made conversation almost impossible. The whole room seemed to shake. 'Who'd be coming up as late as this?' Mayne asked.
Valdini looked up from cleaning his nails with a matchstick. 'That will be the other visitor here. He is a Greek. His name is Keramikos. Why he stays here I do not know. I think he likes Cortina better.' He grinned and, transferring the matchstick to his mouth, began to pick his teeth. 'He is of the Left. He knows all that transpires politically in Greece. And he likes the women. The Contessa, for instance — he cannot take his eyes off her. He gloats, as you would say.' And he sucked his teeth obscenely.
The sound of the slittovia slowed and ceased. Valdini kept on talking. 'He reminds me of a Greek business man I once knew,' he continued. 'I was running a boat on the Nile. It was beautiful and very profitable. For tired business men, you know. The gairls were all hand-picked.' The way he said 'gairls' made it sound like a breed of animals. 'It was a sort of show boat.'
'You mean a floating brothel," Joe grunted. 'Why the hell don't you call things by their proper names! Anyway, I don't find the subject a particularly pleasing one. I'm not interested in your brothels.'
'But, Mistair Wesson, it is so sordid the way you talk about it. It was beautiful, you understand. There was the moonlight. The moon is lovely on the Nile. And there was the music. It was a very good business. And this Greek — I forget his name — he was a wealthy business man from Alexandria — always he wanted a different gairl. He was a gold mine. I made a great deal—' He stopped then because he realised that we were not listening.
Whilst he had been talking brisk steps had sounded on the boarding of the belvedere. Then the door had opened and the cold dark of the outside world had invaded the warm room. I suppose we had all been watching the door with some interest. One is always interested in getting the first glimpse of a person one is expected to live with in an isolated place. It was mere idle curiosity.
But the man who entered stopped in the doorway at the sight of the four of us grouped about the bar. He seemed rooted to the spot, his thick-set body framed in the dark gap like a statue in its niche. He was looking at Mayne. And Mayne had stiffened. His tall figure was tensed. It was only for a second. And during that second the atmosphere was electric. Then Mayne turned to the bar and ordered another round of drinks. The Greek closed the door and came over to the bar. Everything was suddenly normal again.
I was convinced Mayne and the Greek had recognised each other. But there was no indication of this as the Greek came over to us and introduced himself. He was stockily built with a round face and blue eyes that peered short-sightedly through thick-lensed, rimless glasses. His light brown hair was very thin on top and his neck was short, so that his head seemed to be set straight into the wide powerful shoulders.
He spoke good English in a low, rather thick voice. He had a way of thrusting his head forward when making a point, a mannerism which gave him a somewhat belligerent air.
Only once throughout the evening did anything occur to support my theory that he and Mayne had met before. We were discussing the revolt of the Greek Brigade in Egypt during the war. Keramikos was extremely well informed on the details of it. So well informed, in fact, that Joe suddenly emerged from a prolonged silence and said quietly, 'You talk as though you organised the whole damned thing.' I could have sworn the Greek exchanged a quick glance with Mayne. It was not a friendly glance. It was as though on that point they were on common ground.