The Angry Hills - Leon Uris [56]
Mike gritted his teeth and fussed like a small boy then reluctantly slipped the pistol to her. He felt naked the instant he was without it. Lisa put it in her purse quickly and made off down the aisle.
In several moments she returned to the seat.
“What did you do with it?”
“It is on the rail bed somewhere between Amphissa and Levadeia.”
“You’re mad at me, aren’t you?”
She was. She didn’t answer.
“How much more of this do we have?”
“We will not arrive till early morning.”
“Well, you might as well try to catch some more sleep.”
“You may sleep if you wish. I’m staying awake,” she said, obviously referring to his display of panic.
Lisa snuggled into his arms suddenly and kissed his cheek. In a second he realized the affection was for the benefit of the two Italians who were doubling back through the car.
The balance of the trip was spent in utter silence. It was four in the morning when the train pulled into Larissa Terminal in Athens.
FIVE
THE TRAM RIDE ENDED in a suburb of Athens named Chalandri about six miles from the center of the city. It was, in the main, a truck farm and orchard area.
Lisa led Michael down a path in the direction of a frame house, then swung away from it onto another path that ran through a grove of lemon trees. A small isolated pump house appeared in the midst of the grove.
She opened the door and entered first and lit a kerosene lamp. A smell of mustiness hit them. Even though it was almost midday the pump house was dark; the only opening was a twelve-by-twelve-inch mesh screen near the top. The place had long been out of use as a pump house. There were a pair of cots, a table and a chair on the dirt floor. The table held a lamp and a can of fuel. A dozen books on one of the cots caught Mike’s attention.
When the train had arrived in Athens many of the passengers attempted to escape inspection by ducking out of the windows. Most of them were rounded up immediately. Mike and Lisa spent four nerve-racking hours before passing the inspection desks and, when it came, it came without incident.
“Home at last,” Mike said, dumping the sack on the table.
Lisa stood before him, as aloof as a statue. “Lazarus who owns this farm is one of our trusted people. He is instructed to keep away from here and make no contact with you. You will report if he makes any intrusions.”
“Yes, ma’m.”
“A meal will be left outside the door daily after sundown. There is a trench latrine alongside the building. You are to use it only after dark. Under no other circumstances are you to leave this house.”
“Anything else?”
“You needn’t be smart. You were brought here at a great deal of expense and risk.”
“You haven’t exactly been a member of the Hellas Welcome Wagon, yourself.”
Mike sat on one of the cots and it creaked under his weight. He glanced at the titles of the books... Shakespeare, Shaw, Wilde, Goldsmith and a bevy of lesser English playwrights and poets. It was a catholic collection. Another set of small volumes bore the names of Aristotle, Socrates and Plato. “Looks like I’m in for some required reading. You don’t happen to own an American Western? I’m strictly a diversionist when it comes to reading....”
Mike’s attempt at humor didn’t register.
“Turn your back,” she ordered.
Mike heard the rustle of silk underthings and quelled a natural inclination to peek.
“You may turn now.”
In one hand Lisa held his pistol, in the other, his roll of drachmas. She dropped them on the table. “In the future, try to be more discriminating before pulling a gun.”
Mike was completely deflated now.
“When do I see Dr. Thackery?”
“As soon as he is ready to see you.”
Mike arose as Lisa started for the door.
“Miss...”
She turned.
“Look, Helena or Mrs. Papadopoulos or whatever your name is. I know this has all been a routine thing for you but I want to thank you.”
“It isn’t necessary.”
“I’m afraid it is necessary. When someone does something nice I think they