(10) Crucia

Tragos stood looking down at the slightly convulsive Pegasus.

He had an arm around the shoulders of Fabienne, who had used her inhaler and was gradually recovering from the asthma attack as tears ran down her reddened face.

Hidalga and Heidi were striding up to the villa, bumping hips and keeping their giggles to themselves.

Ambrosia stared at the dark screen of her phone, on her knees, a hand stroking the forelock of the horse. Sally Anne was transfixed by the quiet scene, by the mix of emotions in the air. It was bathed in the ghostly light of a moon three days short of being full. There was no color to speak of, just shades of grey and silver, and the blurred edges of darkness.

Ambrosia looked up at Tragos and said dully, "O giatros tha einai edo syntoma," ('The doctor will be here soon').

"Such a young and healthy creature," Tragos remarked, "that I must suspect foul play."

He looked toward Sally Anne, over her head; and noting this, she turned and saw Sanguineus standing behind her.

She whispered to him, "He means me!"

Ambrosia addressed her in a mocking tone. "Are you just going to stand around like a fence post while my horse suffers, Miss Veterinarian?"

Sanguineus whispered, "Remember your toxicology courses."

Sally Anne faced the distraught Tragos and going up to him, said, "If it's been poisoned it will need antidotes and oxygen therapy. It appears to have respiratory problems, which could mean that morphine was used, by whoever did this. But I must defer to the doctor when he comes. I have no means of providing aid."

Tragos was still gazing past her, then abruptly he walked over to the stables, passing Sanguineus and going through the doorway where Rolgo stood in the blush of lantern light.

"What is going on here, Fredrico?"

Rolgo touched the coarse brown sleeve of the robe and led Tragos to the far stall where the mare stood hoofing at the straw.

"Did Mr Cruor explain to you?"

"Explain what? What has he to do with this?"

"He didn't mention--?"

"He talked about the sample shipment of grapes to be sent to his company. Then, well, I saw there was something amiss here and Fabienne was alarmed. What are you saying? Does Mr Cruor know--?"

Rolgo took off his glasses. "Grigoris, I'm sorry, I know you would rather not be informed of the details concerning the contract. But we've learned things today that we think you ought to be aware of, for your own safety."

"We? Who are you referring to? Are you personally involved in this?"

"Yes, and so is Mr Cruor."

Tragos leaned back, astonished. But in the next moment his face darkened. "The devil you say! He's the hit man? And he's HERE? Who is here that should concern him? Don't give me that look!"

"Grigoris, keep your voice down. Don't forget the oath of secrecy you took when you signed the contract."

"Fuck that! Ambrosia's horse has been poisoned and that strumpet of his is the guilty one. What, will you tell me that Pella was killed by Pegasus?"

Rolgo put his glasses back on. "No, she was killed by the owner of Pegasus."

Tragos stood stock still. Slowly he raised a hand and clutched the haircloth at his chest, his faded brown eyes misting.

"I'm sorry, Grigoris. Hear me out. Ambro-- Are you all right? This can wait. Sit down. There's a barrel. Have a seat."

"Don't be stupid. Tell me everything. It doesn't matter anymore."

"You may cancel the contract, if you wish. The fee--"

"I said don't be stupid!"

"Shhh. Perhaps we should go to the villa, to your room."

Tragos released the material he had held wadded in his fist and clutched his beard. He pressed his staff against him and leaned his weight on it.

"Ambrosia killed Pella?"

"Yes, but it's not that simple. Today Mr Cruor recorded a confession of sorts from a man who was associated with a retired member of the Wharf Men. The underworld syndicate. This mobster is Christofer Agapi. You know him?"

Tragos looked up wearily. "Ambrosia's gentleman friend. A breeder of Thoroughbred race horses. A mobster, you say?"

"A horse breeder?" said Rolgo, surprised, and snatched off his glasses. "You know this for certain?"

"I know what he has told me. He has a ranch in Cyprus."

"Good god almighty, this sheds a whole new light..." Rolgo stared at his glasses incredulously, then slowly put them on. "Grigoris, please, go to your room in the villa. Mr Cruor and I will be up to see you. He and I have some things to discuss."

Tragos passed a hand over his eyes. "I don't understand why... Ambrosia the murderer of..."

He turned and tapped the barrel with his staff. A chuckle escaped him. "I will be goddamned. Just goddamned. I should have stayed in Patmos and let the world go mad without any help from me."

Fabienne sat on her knees beside Ambrosia. She had looked curiously at the young blond woman, who stood swaying, her head down, her brows furrowed in thought. She wished the woman would go away.

"Fabienne," said Ambrosia, "tha milisei ellinika," (we will speak Greek). "Someone has hurt Pegasus. Who do you think could have done this?"

"Will he die?"

"Pegasus, die? No, no, he is a magical horse! Besides, the doctor is coming. But who could have done this?"

Fabienne took several breaths. "The bad man," she said, "or his wife." She gazed at the moon and its broken circlet of stars.

"His 'wife'! She is your mother."

"No! CRUCIA is my mother!"

Sally Anne looked up at the sound of the name. Her eyes met Fabienne's. She felt a peculiar sensation that ended the instant the little girl bowed her head, the fine brows furrowed in thought, the petite body swaying.

Sanguineus was standing near the stable doors, smoking. When Tragos came out they exchanged inquiring glances, but neither said a word to the other.

Sanguineus watched the old man walk wearily up to the villa, to the deserted patio. Where had the guests gone? Had the butler ushered them into the house?

"We need to have a chat with him in his room," Rolgo said in a hushed voice, slowly passing Sanguineus. "Upper floor, last door on the right." He followed the tracks of Tragos.

The sound of a car.

"He's here," said Ambrosia, standing. "The vet. Miss Bern, would you go and lead him down here?"

"Of course."

As Sally Anne started off for the row of cypress trees she looked at Sanguineus, who gave her a wink. She suspected that he had overheard the conversation between Ambrosia and Fabienne, and she was correct.

The little girl kissed the horse's neck and laid her cheek against it, her arm across the shuddering, heaving flanks. Through her tears she watched Ambrosia saunter over to the tall man who made her think of the first cross, that first experience of a magic that had filled her with hope.

What would happen to her hope, to all the magic, to the stars around the moon, if Pegasus should die?

She could not bear to think of it. She snuggled her face into the silky musky mane and prayed, "Min pethaneis," ('Don't die').