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He carried her into a small cabin and dropped her on the bed. She tried to get off but was caught again and hauled back. As she yelled up at him to let her go he forced her down on the bed and tied a gag around her mouth, then tied her hands behind her back.
She kicked and wriggled, making stifled, angry noises. He ignored her and tied her ankles together.
A minute later he had left the cabin, locking the door behind him, and Miranda was alone, on the bed, unable to move.
Fear drove the blood from her heart. What were they going to do with her?
Chapter Fourteen
Terry was sitting in Alex’s office promptly at two o’clock. Alex arrived ten minutes later, flushed from hurrying.
‘Sorry, I sailed here and the weather was a bit rough. Did you have a good flight?’
‘Calm and trouble-free. I came last night, actually, and stayed in Athens overnight. Nice hotel in Syntagma Square. Excellent food and the rooms are very comfortable.’
He laid a large file bulging with papers on the table. Terry looked down at it.
‘Is that the details of the new navigational aid?’
Terry nodded. ‘I think you’re going to like this one. All you have to do is type in your destination and it plots your course for you. It even changes course if it receives information about storms in your path ahead. Any weather warnings are received automatically from your ship’s radio and it acts on them at once. You could almost leave it to captain the boat for you while you put your feet up.’
‘Sounds interesting. I could have done with it on my trip here.’
Terry gave him a casual, friendly glance. ‘Where were you coming from?’
‘Delephores.’
‘Oh, yes, of course. That’s an island, in the Cyclades, isn’t it? And you have a hotel there.’
‘Uh huh.’ Alex leaned back in his swivel chair, his long legs stretched out to the side, and tapped his fingertips on the leather top of his desk, frowning. ‘Did I tell you about it?’
‘Somebody did, maybe it was you. While I’m here I’d like to see it, could that be fixed? Does a ferry go there?’
‘Yes, once a day. But there really isn’t anything to see, just hills and beaches, little bays, with a few old churches. The sort of scenery you get on the mainland, and here there is so much to see. If you want to take a trip I’d advise you visit Mycenae – see the beehive tombs of Agamemnon and Clytemnestra, the ancient tombs up in the acropolis of the city, the lion gate that leads into it. There are tours by coach every day, leaving Athens in the morning, stopping en route for lunch at a little taverna where you eat real Greek cooking and end up with eating fresh grapes picked from the vines you sit under. Very romantic. You’d love it.’
‘Sounds marvellous,’ agreed Terry. ‘Well, I’ll think about it. I was looking forward to seeing your little island, though. But, anyway, first of all, can we look at the specifications on the new navigational aid? It won’t come cheap, but then look at what it does . . .’
Neil Maddrell landed in Athens on the first flight of the day and took a taxi down to Piraeus. He walked along the rows of ships and boats studying the names. It took some time before he found the one he was looking for; his legs were aching and he was very hot. It had been raining in London when he left, the temperature had been low. He had worn a raincoat and carried an umbrella. Now he carried his coat over his arm and his face was red and perspiring as he walked up the gangplank.
A large Greek barred his way. ‘Keeree e?’
‘Sorry, I don’t speak Greek,’ Neil said. ‘I’m Neil Maddrell. I’m going to Delephores, to stay at the hotel.’
The weathered face broke into a smile. ‘Ne!’he shook his head.
Did that mean no? Neil hesitated uncertainly – was this the right boat or not? The Greek in the white t-shirt carrying a logo waved his hand along the boat to an open door.
‘Ne parakalo, keeree.’
Neil made his way along the boat and sat down on one of the padded sofas in the cabin indicated. A few moments later he heard the engines start, then the man who had welcomed him aboard appeared and bowed his head with great courtesy.
‘Please – you want drink?’
‘Beer?’ Neil hopefully enquired and the Greek nodded vehemently.
‘Greek beer. Very good.’
Neil hoped so. He had had no idea Greece made beer, but he was so hot he didn’t much care at the moment. He would have drunk anything. His throat was parched, his face burnt, he was so tired he could fall asleep sitting here.
