Necroscope - Deadspeak Part 8

That was enough, and now he would know just exactly where to find Jord an whenever he desired to continue his examination. It was done with only moments to spare, for already the Samothraki's master was coming up the st airs.

As Pavlos Themelis and his First Mate entered the room, they saw the Gr eek prost.i.tute cleaning away Janos's broken gla.s.s and offering him her own.

Unmoved, he accepted it, said: 'Go now.' As she made to get by the huge dr ug-runner, Themelis grabbed her arm in a fist like a ham, caught her round the waist and swung her off her feet. He turned her over and her skirts fel l down over her furious face. Themelis sniffed between her legs and roared, 'Clean drawers! Open-crotch, too! Good! I may see you later, Ellie!'

'Not if I see you first!' she spat at him as he set her on her feet. Then she was down the stairs, through the taverna and out onto the street. From d own below Nichos Dakaris's hoa.r.s.e voice bellowed after her as she went into t he night: 'Bring 'em back alive, my girl! Bring 'em right back here where I can se e the colour of their money!' This was followed by gales of coa.r.s.e laughter, then more bouzouki music as before.

Pavlos Themelis took a seat across the table from the man he knew as Jia nni Lazarides. The chair groaned as he sat down on it and parked his elbows on the table. He wore his peaked captain's hat tilted on one side, which he imagined gave him an irresistible piratical look. It wasn't a bad ploy: no o ne would normally suspect anyone who looked so roguish of being a rogue! 'On ly one gla.s.s, Jianni?' he growled. 'Prefer to drink alone, do you?'

'You are late!' Janos had no time for banter.

Themelis's First Mate, a short, squat, torpedo of a man, had remained at the head of the stairs, from where he carefully scanned the room. Now he ca lled down to Dakaris: 'Gla.s.ses, Nichos, and a bottle of brandy. Good stuff, too, parakalo!' And finally he picked up a chair and carried it to the table by the window-seat. Seating himself, he asked Themelis, 'Well, and has he e xplained himself?'

Behind his dark gla.s.ses, Janos narrowed his eyes. 'Oh? And is there some thing I should explain?'

'Come, come, Jianni!' Themelis chided. 'You were supposed to come aboard us this morning in the harbour, not go sliding off in your pretty white s.h.i.+ p as if you'd been stung in the a.r.s.e or something! We'd pull alongside, you'

d come over and see the stuff - of which there's a kilo for you, if you've t he use for it - and then we'd collect your valuable contribution on behalf o f our mutual sponsor. A show of good faith on both sides, as it were. That w as the plan, to which you were party. Except ... it didn't happen!' His easy -going look suddenly turned sour and his tone hardened. 'And later, when I'v e parked up the old Samothraki and I'm wondering what the b.l.o.o.d.y f.u.c.k, I get this message saying we'll meet here instead, tonight! So now tell me, are y ou sure there's nothing you'd like to explain?'

'The explanation is simple,' Janos barked. 'It could not happen the way it was planned because we were being watched. By men on the harbour wall, with binoculars. By policemen!'

Themelis and his second in command glanced at each other a moment, the n turned again to Janos. 'Policemen, Jianni?' Themelis raised a bushy eyeb row. 'You know this for a fact?'

'Yes,' said Janos, for in truth he did now know it for a fact; he'd had it direct from the English thought-thief. 'Yes, I am certain. I cannot be mistak en. And I would remind you that right from the start of this venture I have in sisted upon complete anonymity and total isolation from its mechanics. I must not be left vulnerable to any sort of investigation or prosecution! I thought that was understood.'

Themelis narrowed his eyes, slanted his mouth in a sneer . . . then tur ned his bearded face away as Nichos Dakaris came labouring up the stairs. '

Huh!' Themelis's torpedo-like comrade grunted as Dakaris slammed down gla.s.ses and a bottle of brandy on the table. 'What happened, Nick? Did you have to send out for it?'

'Very funny!' said Dakaris over his shoulder as he left. 'But not nearl y so amusing when you consider that some of my customers actually pay me! F riends I can always use, but non-paying customers who also insult me . . .?

' Then he'd gone back downstairs.

Themelis had taken the opportunity to compose himself. Now he said: 'It'

s nothing new to be watched by the police. Everyone is watched by the police . You have to keep your nerve, that's all, and not panic.'

'I know how to keep my nerve well enough,' said Janos. 'But unless I'm mistaken there is aboard the Samothraki an amount of cocaine worth ten mill ion British pounds or two billions of drachmae. Which is to say two hundred billions of leptae! I had no idea such monies existed. Why, five hundred y ears ago a man could buy an entire kingdom with such a sum, and still have enough left over to hire an army to guard it! And you tell me to keep my ne rve and not panic? Now let me tell you something, my fat friend: the differ ence between bravery and cowardice is discretion, between a rich man and a cutpurse it's not being caught, and between freedom and the dungeon it's th e ability to walk away from ill-laid plans!'

As he spoke the frowns on the faces of the others grew deeper, confused and far more concerned. To be frank, the master of the Samothraki (whose c riminal nature had ever held sway over caution, resulting in a string of co nvictions) wondered what on earth he was prattling on about. In his younger days Themelis had collected coins. But the lepta? To his knowledge the las t of those had been minted in 1976 - in twenties and fifties denominations only, because of their minuscule value. To calculate modern sums of money i n leptae had to be a sure sign of madness! Why, it would take five hundred to buy one cigarette! And as for Lazarides's use of the term 'dungeon' in p lace of 'jail' . . . what was one supposed to make of the man? How could an yone look so young and think so archaic?

Themelis's sidekick was thinking much the same things; but over and abo ve everything else Lazarides had said, his final statement - of intention?

- stood out in starkest definition. Something about walking away? Was he lo oking for an out?

'No threats, Jianni, or whatever your name is,' this one now growled. 'W e're not the type to threaten easily, Pavlos and me. We don't want to hear a ny more talk about anyone walking away from anything. No one walks away from us. It's hard to walk with broken legs, and even harder if it's your spine!

Janos had been stroking his gla.s.s with the long fingers of his left hand , watching Themelis's face rather than that of his loudmouth companion. But now his three-fingered hand stopped its stroking and his head slowly turned until he gazed directly into that one's eyes. He seemed to crouch down a lit tle into himself on the low window-seat - from fear, or was it something els e? - and his left hand slid snakelike from the long, narrow table to hang by his side. The thug could almost feel the intensity of Janos's gaze coming r ight through those enigmatic dark lenses at him. And: 'You accuse me of making threats?' Janos finally answered, his voice so q uiet and deep that it might simply be a series of ba.s.s grunts rather than spe ech proper. 'You have the audacity to believe that I might find it necessary to threaten such as you? And then - as if that weren't more than enough - you in your turn threaten me? You dare to threaten . . . me?'

'Have a care for your bones!' the other hissed, his lips drawing back from yellow teeth as he perched himself on the very rim of his chair, tilting it f orward to shove his bullet-head a little closer. 'You smart-talking, oh-so-cle an, high-and-mighty b.a.s.t.a.r.d!'

Janos's left arm and hand hung out of sight below the rim of the table.

But instead of drawing back more yet, he too had leaned his face forward. An d now - - In a movement so swift and flowing it was quicksilver, the vampire shot out his large, long-fingered hand a distance of fifteen inches under the tab le and bunched up the other's s.c.r.o.t.u.m so deep in his groin that his t.e.s.t.i.c.l.es flopped into his palm. Twisting and squeezing at the same time, Janos needed only nip with his chisel-tipped nails and tear with his great strength to ca strate the other right through his threadbare lightweight trousers! Yes, and the fool knew it.

His bottom jaw fell open and he snapped upright in his chair, crowding the table. He squirmed, gagging as his eyes flew wide open in his face. He was the merest moment away from becoming a eunuch, and he could do . . . no thing! Only let him begin to react violently and Janos could finish the job in a split second.

The vampire increased the pressure, drew his arm in under the table - a nd his victim inched himself forward and off his chair, reached across the bolted-down table and grasped its rim in both hands to maintain his balance and take the strain off his b.a.l.l.s. And still Janos held him there; and sti ll he fixed him with his eyes, which were only inches away now. But where a moment ago the vampire's face had been slate-grey with rage, now he merely smiled, however sardonically.

Gurgling, with tears streaming from eyes which were standing out like m arbles in his purpling face, the agonized thug knew how utterly helpless he was. And suddenly it dawned on him that not only was it possible for Janos to do the unthinkable, but it was also probable!

'N - no no!' he managed to gasp.

That was what Janos had been waiting for; he read it in the other's mind as well as in his wet, rubbery face; he recognized and accepted his submi ssion. And in one viciously co-ordinated movement he gave a final twist and a squeeze, then released and thrust the man away.

Sending his chair flying, the thug crashed over on his back. Gasping an d sobbing, he rolled himself into an almost foetal position, with his hands down between his thighs. And there he remained, rocking and moaning in his agony.

All of which had gone unheard by the people in the taverna down below, where Zorba's Dance and its attendant clapping and stamping had drowned eve rything out. But in any case, there hadn't been a lot to hear.

Pavlos Themelis was pale now, his face twitching behind his great beard . At first he hadn't known what was going on, and by the time he had known it was over. And meanwhile Lazarides had scarcely turned a hair. But now, s eeming to flow to his feet as sinuous as a snake, he stood up and towered o ver the table.

'You are a fool, Themelis,' he grunted, 'and that one is a bigger fool. Bu t... a deal is a deal, and I have already invested too much in this business t o abandon it now. And so it seems I must see it through. Very well, but at lea st let me give you some good advice: in future, be more careful.'

He made as if to leave, and Themelis got quickly out of his way, gasping: 'But we still need your money, or some gold at least, to see the job done!'

Crossing the floor, Janos paused. He appeared to give it a moment's thou ght, then said: 'At three in the morning, when all the coastguards and petty law officers are asleep in their beds, weigh anchor and meet me three sea-m iles due east of Mandraki. We will conclude our business there, far out of s ight and sound of land. Is it agreed?'

Themelis nodded, his Adam's apple bobbing. 'Count on it,' he said. 'The o ld Samothraki will be there.'

And on the floor his partner continued to writhe and groan and sweat out his gradually easing pain; and Janos, going downstairs, didn't even look at h im . . .

It was after eleven and the streets of the Old Town near the waterfron t were much quieter. Janos walked in the shadows wherever possible, his lo ng stride more a lope as he quickly put distance between himself and the T averna Dakaris. But he was not un.o.bserved. Greek policemen in civilian clo thes, hiding in even deeper shadows, saw him go and ignored him. They didn 't know him; he wasn't the reason they were here; why would they be intere sted in him? No, their quarry was one Pavlos Themelis, who was still insid e the taverna.

Their brief had been to follow him, check out his contacts, see if he w as pa.s.sing any stuff around - but not to pull him in or hinder him in any w ay. There was bigger stuff going down, and when the axe fell someone up top wanted to make sure it came down not only on the master and crew of the Sa mothraki but the entire organization, and came down hard. It was perfectly obvious that Nichos Dakaris was part of it too, and his rancid taverna a li kely distribution point.

In short, Janos Ferenczy's luck was holding.

But the lackadaisical Greek policemen were not the only ones to see him leave the Dakaris; Ellie Touloupa was watching, too, looking down from a v antage point one level up and a block away, where an old stone arch support ed a narrow, walled alley. She saw him take his departure and noted his rou te: towards a small jetty in the main harbour, where people came ash.o.r.e in their tenders from the yachts and pleasure-craft. Ellie wasn't stupid: she had done a little quiet checking-up on this Lazarides and knew that the sle ek white Lazarus was his. So where else would he be going?

Perhaps he had a woman aboard - but if so what was keeping him ash.o.r.e, drinking on his own in a fleapit like Nichos Dakaris's place? Maybe he ha d problems. Well, and Ellie had a way with problems. Anyway, she found him exciting, and who could say but that there might be some money in it, too ? Why, she might even end up aboard his boat for the night.

So her thoughts ran as she put out her cigarette, descended to the lower l evel and hurried through a maze of cobbled alleys to a spot where she might in tercept him. And intercept him she did, at a junction of dark, high-walled str eets not fifty feet from the jetty.

Janos, arriving at the junction, was aware of her at once. Her breathing w as still laboured, from hurrying, and her high heels skittered a little on the cobbles as she came to a halt in the shadows. She felt that he could even see her (though how he saw at all in those dark gla.s.ses she couldn't say) as he s lowed his pace and turned his head to look straight in her direction.

Then ... it was a strange feeling: to want him to know that she was there , but at the same time almost fearing him knowing it. Should she stand still, hold her breath, hope that he would carry on by? Or - But too late.

'You,' he said, taking a step towards the shadows where she stood. 'But th is is a lonely place, Ellie, and by now there should be customers for you, bac k at Nick's.'

As he stepped in, so she stepped a little out of the shadows. They stood close, half-silhouettes in the darkness of old stone walls. And there and t hen she knew she would have him, the way she always knew it. 'I thought I mi ght come aboard your boat,' she said, breathlessly.

Another pace and he drove her back into the darkness, until she leaned a gainst the wall. 'But you may not,' he answered, with a slow shake of his he ad.

'Then ah!' she drew breath sharply as his hand grasped her narrow waist just above the hip. 'Then ... I think perhaps I would like you to f.u.c.k me here - right now - against this wall!'

He chuckled, but without humour. 'And should I pay for something you so obviously desire?'

'You've already paid,' she answered, beginning to pant as his free hand op ened her blouse. 'Your wine . . .'

'You sell yourself cheaply, Ellie.' He lifted her skirts, moved even closer.

'Cheaply?' she breathed against his neck. 'For you it's free!'

Again his chuckle. 'Free? You give yourself freely? Ah, but this world is filled with surprises! A wh.o.r.e, and yet so innocent.'

She parted her legs and sucked at him, and expanded as he slid into her.

He was ma.s.sive. He surged within her, filling her and yet still surging! Th e sensation was one such as she'd never known or even imagined before. Was h e some sort of G.o.d, some fantastic Priapus? 'Who . . . are . . . you?' she g asped the words out, knowing full well who he was. And before he could answe r: 'What... are . . . you?'

Janos was aroused now - his hunger, if nothing else. One hand tugged at her b.r.e.a.s.t.s while the other reached behind and under her. He continued to surge; not thrusting but simply elongating into her. And now his fingers ha d found her a.n.u.s, and they too seemed to be surging.

'Ah! Ah! Ah!' she gasped, her eyes wide and s.h.i.+ning in the darkness and her mouth lolling open.

And finally, grunting, he answered her question with one of his own: 'D o you know the legend of the Vrykoulakas?' His hand left her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and to ok away the dark gla.s.ses from his eyes - which burned crimson as coals in h is face!

She inhaled air ma.s.sively, but before she could scream his chasm of a mo uth had clamped itself over the entire lower half of her face. And his tongu e also surged, into and down her convulsing throat. While in her mind: Ah, I see you do know the legend! Well, and now you know the reality. So be it! Inside her body his vampire protoflesh spread into every cavity, put ting out filament rootlets which burrowed in her veins and arteries like wor ms in soil, without damaging the structure. And even before she had lost ful l consciousness, Janos was feeding.

Tomorrow they would find her here and say she had died of ma.s.sive pern icious anaemia, and not even the most minute autopsy would discover anythi ng to the contrary. Nor would there be any-progeny - of this most deliciou s fusion. No, for Janos would see to it that nothing of him remained in he r to surface later and cause him problems.

As for the life he was taking: what of it? It was only one of many hund reds. And anyway, what had she been but a wh.o.r.e? The answer was simple: she had been nothing. . . Three and a half hours later and three miles due east of Rhodes Town, th e Samothraki lay as if becalmed on a sea like a millpond. Quite extraordinar ily, in the last ten or fifteen minutes a writhing fret had developed, quick ly thickening to a mist and then to a fog. Now damp white billows were drift ing across the old s.h.i.+p's decks, and visibility was down to zero.

The First Mate, still tender from his brush with Janos Ferenczy, had jus t brought Pavlos Themelis up onto the deck to see for himself. And Themelis was rightly astonished. 'What?' he said. 'But this is crazy! What do you mak e of it?'

The other shook his head. 'I don't know,' he answered. 'Crazy, like you said. You might expect it in October, but that's six months away.' They mo ved to the wheelhouse where a crewman was trying to get the foghorn working .

'Forget it,' Themelis told him. 'It doesn't work. G.o.d, this is the Aegean ! Foghorn? - I never once used it. The pipes will be full of rust. Anyway, sh e works off steam and we've precious little up. So make yourself useful, go t ake a turn stoking. We have to move out of this.'

'Move?' said the First Mate. 'Where to?'

"The h.e.l.l out of this!' Themelis barked. 'Where do you think? Into clear water, somewhere where the Lazarus isn't likely to come barging up out of n owhere and cut us in half!'

'Speak of the devil,' the other growled low in his throat, his little pi g-eyes full of hate where they stared through the condensation on the cabin window at the sleek white shape which even now came ghosting alongside, her reversed screws bringing her to a dead halt in the gently 1 lapping water.

The grey, mist-wreathed crew of the Lazarus tossed hawsers; the s.h.i.+ps we re hauled together, port to portside; ancient tyres festooning the Samothrak i's strakes acted as buffers, keeping the hulls apart. All was achieved by t he light of the deck lamps, in an eerie silence where even the squealing of the tyres as they were compressed and rubbed between the hulls seemed muted by the fog.

For all that the Lazarus was a modern steel-hull, as broad as the Samothr aki but three metres longer, still she sat low in the water when her screws w ere dead or idling. The decks of the two s.h.i.+ps were more or less level, and w ith little or no swell to mention transfer would be as simple as stepping fro m one s.h.i.+p to the next. And yet the crew of the white s.h.i.+p, all eight of them , simply lined the rail; while her master and his American companion stayed b ack a little, gaunt figures under the awnings of the foredeck. The cabin ligh ts, blazing white through the fog, gave their obscure shapes silvery silhouet tes.

At the port rail of the Samothraki, Themelis and his men grew uneasy. Th ere was something very odd here, something other than this weird, unnatural fog. 'This Lazarides b.a.s.t.a.r.d,' Themelis's sidekick grunted under his breath, 'bothers me.'

Themelis offered a low snort of derision. 'Something of an understatement , that, Christos,' he said. 'But keep your b.a.l.l.s out of his way and you shoul d be OK!'

The other ignored the jibe. 'The mist clings to him,' he continued, s.h.i.+veri ng. 'It almost seems to issue from him!'

Lazarides and Armstrong had moved to the gate in the rail. They stood t here, leaning forward, seeming to examine the Samothraki minutely. There wa s nothing to choose between them in height, Themelis thought, but plenty in bearing and style. The American shambled a little, like an ape, and wore a black eyepatch over his right eye; in his right hand he carried a smart bl ack briefcase, hopefully full of money. And Lazarides beside him, straight as a ramrod in the night and the fog, affecting those dark gla.s.ses of his e ven now.

But silent? Why were they so silent? And what were they waiting for? 'S o here we are then, Jianni!' Themelis shook off the black mood of depressio n which had so suddenly threatened to envelop him, opened his arms expansiv ely, glanced around and nodded his satisfaction. 'Privacy at last, eh? In t he heart of a bank of fog, of all b.l.o.o.d.y things! So ... welcome aboard the old Samothraki.'

And at last Lazarides smiled. 'You are inviting me aboard?'

'Eh?' said Themelis, taken aback. 'But certainly! How else may we get ou r business done?'

'How indeed?' said the other, with a grim nod. And as he crossed betwee n s.h.i.+ps, so he took off his dark gla.s.ses. Armstrong came with him, and the rest of his men, too, clambering over the rails. And the crew of the Samoth raki backed stumblingly away from them, knowing now for a fact that somethi ng - almost everything - was most definitely wrong here. For the crew of th e Lazarus were like flame-eyed zombies to a man, and their master . . . he was like no man they'd ever seen before!

Pavlos Themelis, seeing the transformation in the face of the man called Lazarides as he stepped aboard the Samothraki, thought his eyes must be pla ying him tricks. His First Mate saw it, too, and frantically yanked his gun from its under-arm holster.

Too late, for Armstrong towered over him. The American used his briefca se to bat the gun aside even as it was brought into view, then grabbed the man's gun-hand and wrestled the weapon round to point at its owner's head.

Bullet-head didn't stand a chance. Armstrong pointed the gun into his ea r and said, 'Hahr And his victim, seeing the American's one eye burning like sulphur - and his forked, crimson tongue, flickering in the gape of his mou th - simply gave up the ghost. 'That one,' said Janos to Themelis, almost casually, 'was a fool!' Which w as Armstrong's signal to pull the trigger.

As his head flew apart in crimson ruin, Christos was tossed like a rag do ll over the rail. Sliding down between the hulls, his body was crushed and gr ound a little before being dumped into the mist lying soft on the sea. The ho le he made in it quickly sealed itself; the echo of the shot which had killed him, caught by the fog and tossed back, was still ringing.

'Holy Mother of - /' Themelis breathed, helpless as his men were rounded up. But as Janos advanced on him he backed away and again, disbelievingly, ob served the length of his head and jaws, the teeth in his monstrous mouth, the weird scarlet blaze of his terrible eyes. 'J-J-Jianni?' the Greek finally go t his brain working. 'Jianni, I -'

'Show me this cocaine,' Janos took hold of his shoulder with a steel hand, his fingers biting deep. 'This oh so valuable white powder.'

'It - it's below . . .' Themelis's answer was a mere breath; he could not, da ren't, take his eyes from the other's face.

'Then take me below,' said Janos. But first, to his men: 'You did well.

Now do as you will. I know how hungry you are.'

Even below decks Themelis could hear the screams of his crew; and he t hought: What, Christos Nixos a fool? Maybe, but at least he didn't know wh at hit him! And he wondered how long before his screams would be joining t he rest. . .

Forty minutes later the Lazarus's diesels coughed into life and she drew slowly away from the now silent, wallowing Samothraki. The fog was lifting, stars beginning to show through, and soon the horizon would light with the first crack of a new day.

When the Lazarus was a quarter-mile away, the doomed Samothraki blew ap art in a ma.s.sive explosion and gouting fire. Bits of her spiralled or flutt ered back to the foaming sea and were put out, leaving only their drifting smoke. She was no more. In a few days pieces of her planking might wash ash ore, maybe a body or two, possibly even the bloated, fish-eaten corpse of P avlos Themelis himself . . .

5.