The Angry Hills - Leon Uris [28]
He poked his head toward the half-opened door leading to the bedroom. He could see the white sheets rustle.
Soon my time will come, Zervos thought. Reward from these German louts is small but a man can make his own rewards. He, Zervos, had played the right side. He had seized a grand opportunity. German occupation was a fact. A man does not want to be a government clerk all his life. To sell information was the right thing to do. Soon he would have a suite like this. The art collection he had taken from Stergiou’s home was but the beginning of a fortune. Other things would come his way, now that he was a respected citizen.
He thought of some of the wealthy Greek citizens. He, Zervos, had the power of the German police behind him. Soon he would be paying friendly visits to these wealthy compatriots of his. He would advise them, in a nice way of course, that they were suspect by the Gestapo. But he, Zervos, could be their friend and benefactor and could arrange protection for them. Unfortunately, such protection would cost quite a sum of money.
It would not be long now—a suite—a girl in the bedroom to please him... Perhaps he’d become the owner of an entire hotel. He would be rich and powerful. Not bad—not bad at all for a government clerk.
Zervos’ dream vanished as Heilser entered and shut the bedroom door. For a second they exchanged stares of mutual hate, distrust and fear. The German opened the conversation with the customary sharp, “Well!” It never failed to make the fat Zervos flinch.
Zervos shrugged his shoulders and flopped his hands to his side in a helpless gesture. “He has disappeared into thin air. We have turned Nauplion inside out.”
“Ridiculous!” Heilser said sharply. The German lit a cigarette and walked to the liquor cabinet. He offered Zervos a drink only because he did not want to see him drool.
The fat man stood awkwardly examining the strange labels. One day he’d understand and enjoy these labels. He spotted a familiar-looking bottle of retsina and guzzled a half tumbler full then wiped his lips with his sleeve.
“I tell you, Herr Oberst, the man has vanished.”
“Oh, shut up. There is nothing mysterious about it.” Heilser set his Scotch and water on the table and started to pace. Then he sat at a desk and opened a large map of Southern Greece and drew a circle around Nauplion and its environs. “Someone inside this circle knows the answer.” Heilser flipped the pencil on the table.
“But we have questioned a thousand people....”
“Then we question ten thousand more!” Heilser squashed his cigarette. “Do you know what kind of a man we are up against? We are up against a cornered rat. Nothing is more dangerous, more ingenious than a man who fights for his life.” Then Heilser began to recite, as though he were speaking to himself: “One of two things will happen—we find him or he will come to us. He will try to get to Athens sooner or later. He will try to contact someone here. It will not be the Embassy. It will be someone Soutar told him to contact. Who will it be? Any one of a dozen known sympathizers of the British whom we already keep under scrutiny.”
Heilser lit a cigarette and sipped his drink. “But we cannot wait for him to come to us. We go to him, slowly, quietly. We must not frighten him into the hills. He jumped a train moving at full speed. Unless he is a circus acrobat he is badly hurt and cannot move far or fast. I say he is still in or about Nauplion.”
“If you say so, Herr Heilser.”
“We agree on one thing, at least.” He looked at Zervos and sighed in disgust. “It is obvious that I must go to Nauplion at once and conduct the search.”
He arose and walked toward the bedroom. “We will find our Mr. Morrison, Zervos—we will find him if we have to look under every stone in your filthy country.”
“Yes, sir.”
Heilser opened the door and looked into the bedroom. “Wait in the lobby. I’ll be down in an hour or so.”
TWO
WHEN HE OPENED HIS eyes, everything around him was a dazzling white. The white-washed walls reflected a wash of golden sunlight. He shut his eyes, raised