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B aron von Berg stood on the front steps of the Vasilis estate, bidding farewell to the last of his guests. “Good night…So good of you to come…Good night…Yes, thank you, the food will help so many of the city’s starving children…Good night.”

Franz walked up from behind. “The Independence just left Piraeus.”

“And the Turtle Dove?”

“Under guard since dusk. Nobody is getting aboard unless we know.”

“Good. Where is Andros now?”

“According to Peter, he headed straight home.”

“I’d be very much surprised if he remains there. What about Aphrodite?”

“Upstairs in her room. I have guards posted outside her door and below her balcony.”

“I’ll deal with her in the morning, before we fly to Corfu,” von Berg concluded. “First I want a word with her parents.”

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