states that you represent Vance Properties of Los Angeles and London. Just where is that London office located?”
“It isn’t located yet,” Brad improvised. “I’d just flown to London to see about leasing office space when the story on Avery’s plane crash broke. There was some delay with the leasing arrangements, so I hopped down here to see if I could be of help.”
“You must be very close to Avery.”
“We were almost related.”
“How’s that?”
“He married my girl, while I was in Vietnam.”
“Rhona Brent?” Martins whistled softly under his breath. “Was the marriage with or without your blessing.”
“Neither. I had no options.”
“Then you came to Athens because of a woman. I like that. I’m a romantic man myself.” Martins looked down the length of the bar, to where Brad had been seated with Mikos Pallas. The little Greek was leaving now, moving in the direction of the lobby. “Is that man a friend of yours?” he asked.
“Pallas? I never saw him in my life until this morning. We came in from the airport in the same taxi. He’s a hotel man.”
Martins chuckled softly. “Yes, so I’ve heard. Do you know, Mr. Smith, I think you may be a babe in arms. There are things in this world more dangerous than the Vietcong—and as difficult to identify.”
“Is Mikos Pallas dangerous?”
“That depends on who you are and what you are doing that he might find profitable. Now, please take that as a friendly warning. I have no more to say on the subject. Ah, here comes my date—” Martins rose, smiling. Approaching him at the bar was a handsome, smartly groomed, Negro woman, with a lovely glow in her eyes. She held out her hands and Martins took them in his own. “Mr. Smith,” he said, “I want you to meet my wife. Lois, Mr. Smith is a fellow countryman and a stranger in Athens. I think we should have him to the house for dinner some night. Not tonight, I’m afraid, because now we’re both off to meet our son, who has invited us to dine with his brand new fiancée.”
“Congratulations,” Brad said.
“Thank you. Remember now, we have to get together some evening.”
The Martins made their goodbyes and left the bar. People were gravitating towards the dining rooms. Brad put his glass on the bar and started to move away. The bartender called to him and placed a bill beside his glass.
“The other gentlemen said you were a guest of the hotel and would sign for this.”
“Beautiful!” Brad said and signed.
When Brad left the bar his intention was to dine in the hotel, but just inside the doorway to the dining room he saw Mikos Pallas waiting to be seated and he wasn’t inclined to pick up the man’s dinner bill as well. He remembered having seen several attractive restaurants on his morning excursion. It was a balmy evening and the air would do him good. But an unfamiliar city at night is quite different from the same city by daylight. After walking a dozen blocks he realized that he was lost. He paused to get his bearings and again heard the church bells that had intrigued him so, early in the day. He followed the sound and soon found himself on the identical street where he had been standing when the chorus of klaxons sent him speeding back to the hotel. Unless the city had shifted ground sometime during the day, the square should be waiting at the end of the narrow street. He quickened his pace. He was directly opposite the spot where the truck-load of young construction workers had been parked, when a deafening roar and its repercussion hurled him backwards into an open garageway. Clinging to the walls for support, he had a perfect view of the uncompleted structure, which was now crumbling like a house of children’s building-blocks before his eyes.
Chapter Four
THE EXPLOSION FILLED the street with dust and debris, and almost instantly the building burst into flame. Brad heard running footsteps. Starkly outlined against the fire was the figure of a man running fast
“It isn’t located yet,” Brad improvised. “I’d just flown to London to see about leasing office space when the story on Avery’s plane crash broke. There was some delay with the leasing arrangements, so I hopped down here to see if I could be of help.”
“You must be very close to Avery.”
“We were almost related.”
“How’s that?”
“He married my girl, while I was in Vietnam.”
“Rhona Brent?” Martins whistled softly under his breath. “Was the marriage with or without your blessing.”
“Neither. I had no options.”
“Then you came to Athens because of a woman. I like that. I’m a romantic man myself.” Martins looked down the length of the bar, to where Brad had been seated with Mikos Pallas. The little Greek was leaving now, moving in the direction of the lobby. “Is that man a friend of yours?” he asked.
“Pallas? I never saw him in my life until this morning. We came in from the airport in the same taxi. He’s a hotel man.”
Martins chuckled softly. “Yes, so I’ve heard. Do you know, Mr. Smith, I think you may be a babe in arms. There are things in this world more dangerous than the Vietcong—and as difficult to identify.”
“Is Mikos Pallas dangerous?”
“That depends on who you are and what you are doing that he might find profitable. Now, please take that as a friendly warning. I have no more to say on the subject. Ah, here comes my date—” Martins rose, smiling. Approaching him at the bar was a handsome, smartly groomed, Negro woman, with a lovely glow in her eyes. She held out her hands and Martins took them in his own. “Mr. Smith,” he said, “I want you to meet my wife. Lois, Mr. Smith is a fellow countryman and a stranger in Athens. I think we should have him to the house for dinner some night. Not tonight, I’m afraid, because now we’re both off to meet our son, who has invited us to dine with his brand new fiancée.”
“Congratulations,” Brad said.
“Thank you. Remember now, we have to get together some evening.”
The Martins made their goodbyes and left the bar. People were gravitating towards the dining rooms. Brad put his glass on the bar and started to move away. The bartender called to him and placed a bill beside his glass.
“The other gentlemen said you were a guest of the hotel and would sign for this.”
“Beautiful!” Brad said and signed.
When Brad left the bar his intention was to dine in the hotel, but just inside the doorway to the dining room he saw Mikos Pallas waiting to be seated and he wasn’t inclined to pick up the man’s dinner bill as well. He remembered having seen several attractive restaurants on his morning excursion. It was a balmy evening and the air would do him good. But an unfamiliar city at night is quite different from the same city by daylight. After walking a dozen blocks he realized that he was lost. He paused to get his bearings and again heard the church bells that had intrigued him so, early in the day. He followed the sound and soon found himself on the identical street where he had been standing when the chorus of klaxons sent him speeding back to the hotel. Unless the city had shifted ground sometime during the day, the square should be waiting at the end of the narrow street. He quickened his pace. He was directly opposite the spot where the truck-load of young construction workers had been parked, when a deafening roar and its repercussion hurled him backwards into an open garageway. Clinging to the walls for support, he had a perfect view of the uncompleted structure, which was now crumbling like a house of children’s building-blocks before his eyes.
Chapter Four
THE EXPLOSION FILLED the street with dust and debris, and almost instantly the building burst into flame. Brad heard running footsteps. Starkly outlined against the fire was the figure of a man running fast
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