The Lost Labyrinth

II

The airport had its own medical centre, but after the police doctor had listened to Knox's account of being water-boarded and beaten, he insisted on taking him to a nearby hospital instead, where they had the equipment to check for internal damage. He was sitting up on the examination table, waiting for the results, when the swing doors pushed open and Theofanis came in, carrying a manila folder and a plastic bag. 'There you are,' he said. 'I've been looking for you.'

'And now you've found me.'

He ignored Knox's tone, held out the bag. 'We found some things of yours in Nergadze's van,' he said. 'Angelos wanted you to have them back.'

'Angelos did?' asked Knox in surprise.

'He's a good man,' said Theofanis. 'He just has a tough job sometimes.'

Knox looked inside the bag, saw his wallet, mobile and the red-leatherette ring box. 'Thanks,' he said. It was a crude peace-offering, but welcome nonetheless. He checked the ring before he put it away in his pocket. It made him think of Gaille, of the threats Mikhail had made. He took out his mobile, and remembered how Mikhail had seen Gaille's photos and text message, all the information he needed to track her down.

'What is it?' asked Theofanis, noticing his unease.

'Nergadze,' said Knox. 'He vowed he'd make Gaille pay if I betrayed him.'

'The man's dead.'

'Yes, but who knows what he did before he died?'

'While running for his life?'

'You didn't meet him. I did. He wasn't the kind to make empty threats, or to forget about them just because he had other matters to attend to. And he's connected, too. His family are incredibly powerful. If he'd given orders-'

'Don't worry about it,' said Theofanis. 'The Nergadzes are finished. The whole family's been taken down by the Georgian government.'

'You're sure?'

'I spoke to one of their agents myself. I had to tell him about the poor bastard that Mikhail shot and burned.'

'Even so,' said Knox. 'I need to speak to Gaille. I need to know she's okay.'

'Why don't you just call her?'

He shook his head. He'd tried from a payphone in the hospital lobby. 'She's not answering.'

'I could send a car.'

'She's two hours' walk from the nearest village.'

'Oh.' Theofanis pulled a face. 'Maybe not, then. Not on Easter weekend. Not with the case tied up.'

'Tied up?' snorted Knox.

'Sure. This guy Nergadze and his gang wanted the fleece. They murdered Petitier and Antonius for it. Then they abducted you and this woman Nadya.'

Knox shook his head. 'Nergadze killed Antonius, I'll give you that. But not Petitier. He only abducted me because he believed I'd killed Petitier myself for the fleece. How could he possibly believe that if he'd done it himself?'

Theofanis frowned and held out his manila folder. 'Then have a look at this,' he said.

Knox took it from him. It contained grainy stills from a CCTV camera, of a man in photographer's trousers and a T-shirt, the peak of a baseball cap pulled down over his eyes, masking his face almost entirely from view. 'What are these?' he asked.

'Your lawyer friend Charissa suggested we check the CCTV footage for the hotel lobby the afternoon Petitier was killed. This man arrived there an hour before Petitier. He ordered coffee from the bar then took a table and watched the door. You can see he doesn't even touch his drink. But after Petitier checks in, he waits fifteen more seconds then goes after him to the lifts. I'll bet anything he was waiting for Petitier.'

'Yes,' agreed Knox. 'Do you know where he went?'

Theofanis shook his head. 'We're still looking through the other tapes.'

'And you think he could be the killer?'

'Let's just say we'd like to talk to him. Do you recognise him?'

Knox looked again at the photo. It wasn't Nergadze or any of the other Georgians, that was for sure. And it didn't look like anyone from the conference. Yet he looked familiar all the same, though Knox couldn't work out why. 'I don't know,' he said, passing the folder back. 'But I assume this means Augustin is no longer a suspect.'

'We still have some questions for him,' replied Theofanis. 'For example, what was in that canvas bag he took into the airport?'

The answer came so suddenly to Knox, he couldn't help but laugh. 'Roses,' he said.

'I beg your pardon.'

'When Claire came out of the terminal, she was carrying a huge bunch of white roses. That's what was in the bag.'

'He could have bought them at the airport.'

'Sure, he could,' said Knox. 'After all, he'd only been fretting for a week about making things nice for her, so of course he'd have left it to chance that they'd have flowers on sale.' He'd had enough of Theofanis suddenly, enough of this interminable suspicion, of this determination to find guilt. He jumped down from the examination table, winced as he landed. 'I'm off,' he said. 'I need to get to Crete.'

'You're not going anywhere until you've got clearance.'

'Then you'd better give it to me, hadn't you? Or would you rather fetch one of your colleagues to put me in the bed next to Augustin?'

Theofanis met his stare for a second or two, then sighed and backed down. 'You won't get anywhere tonight,' he said. 'You've already missed the last flight. But I'll drive you back to Athens if you like, and you can fly out in the morning.'