(13) Crucia

Sanguineus gave Ambrosia a push. Lethargically she got up from his lap and stood facing the canopied bed.

In slow motion, like a person entranced by a fearful intruder, she unhooked her bra and shrugged it off, dropping it on the floor. She put her thumbs under her panties and bending forward she slipped them down to her ankles. She stepped out of them. She stood straight and statuesque in the faint emerald lamplight. The symmetry of her fine indented spine and firm buttocks was a classic Greek sculpture in living flesh.

Sanguineus mused on the spirit of beauty. It wasn't Ambrosia he saw pulling back the comforter and silk sheet, gracefully sliding into bed and pulling the sheet up to her neck. No, it was the incomprehensible image of Crucia.

Sanguineus took a straight back wooden chair and set it beside the bed, near the footboard, where he would be able to see Ambrosia's tell-tale expressions and also keep watch on the door, which he locked. He took off his black corduroy sport coat and hung it on the chairback.

He sat in the chair, holding his Glock along the inside of his right thigh. It was equipped with a snub Maxim suppressor and loaded with subsonic Whisper ammo. A shot would not be silent, but the noise would be recognized not as a gun shot, but as the exhaust of a vehicle; mufflers having the same basic technology as firearm suppressors. He wanted Ambrosia to understand that their conversation was like a finger on a trigger. No matter how relaxed the finger, the trigger was poised and ready. And there was something else he wanted her to see.

He took a small receiver from his shirt pocket that was similar in size to an in-ear hearing aid. He wedged it into his left ear canal, and listened to the soft buzz of static until he heard a pinging sound. It was periodic and it told him that Rolgo, or Sally Anne, was transmitting and would warn him of any suspicious movements in the house; that all computer/phone communications were being monitored by Narus interceptor and decryption devices.

Rolgo's voice came through. "Sally is armed and in the sitting room. Rufus is chatting in fiction code with Eliza Prizzi, the ICS snoop in Milan. Nothing new from her yet. She's forwarding the tale to Claus. Fabienne is asleep in a guest room downstairs. Grigoris is still in the library. The horse trainer and foreman went home, apparently. Two helpers are in the stables. There's a car parked off property near the drive. Demos," he meant the ex assistant foreman, "is keeping an eye on it. The bungalow seems peaceful. Demos can observe it from his location. He'll let me know if anyone comes or goes. There's no police activity of any concern to us. Out."

The buzz and periodic pings were unobtrusive now, listened to by a level of consciousness that would not disturb his concentration on Ambrosia unless a word of warning came through.

"I needn't tell you everything," Sanguineus said to her. His voice startled her out of her mesmerized focus on his gun and receiver. Her expression had revealed a deep anxiety. But now, through his calm voice, her face warmed and softened. A smile played on her parted lips.

"But if," he added, "my guess is wrong, then we're in for a long night. Let's start with your mother, Pomona Antonio-Kastri, and step-father, Kadir Kastri. The record shows that they died of barbiturate overdose, a double suicide." He leaned slightly forward. "Did you kill them?"

Ambrosia blew out her breath. She clutched the silk sheet and started to pull it down, then frowned and drew it back up to her neck. Sanguineus could see that her thoughts were in turmoil. He was quite sure of the answer, but a confirmation would be nice.

"Yes, I did," she said, staring at the underside of the canopy. Her fingers drummed the sheet. "But so what? That's not why you're here. You're here about Pella Markos. And I did NOT shoot her. I've never shot anyone."

"What other drug did you use in the killing of your parents?"

She had intended to continue her defense, but her face blanched, her nostrils flared, and her eyes, turning to him, were dilated.

"You couldn't force them to take a handful of barbiturates," Sanguineus said, "not without a ruckus, which a man like Kastri would certainly have made. You drugged them first, without their knowledge, and when they were in a semi comatose state you fed them the barbiturates."

"The autopsy--"

"Level with me, or I'll kill you now and be done with it. The drug you gave them, in their food, was the same drug that made a 'super horse' out of a pale grey gelding who grew up to be Pegasus. Except that you gave your mother and step-dad an excessive dose of it. It's a drug unknown on the market, with properties that a coroner would not find because he wouldn't be looking for something he didn't know existed."

Ambrosia covered her face with the sheet. It ballooned up from her blown breath. She pulled it down below her pink-nippled breasts and sighed.

"Grigoris told you," she said.

"No, not a word of it. And you know why he didn't."

"Ha." Ambrosia reached up as though to touch the silken blue canopy, then brought her hand down to her stomach. "He and Pella were recruited by a man named Stefan Smirnis, when I was a young girl. Gregoris had an uncle in the Sicilian Mafia."

She glanced at Sanguineus, but there was no reaction from him. "Stefan was in league with... some Wharf Men who have a race horse breeding operation in Cyprus."

Sanguineus narrowed his eyes at her evasive remark. "Yes, and run by Christofer Agape. Word is, he had an affair with Pella, who separated from Grigoris. When you came of age Agape switched his affections to you. It was Agape who supplied you with the super-horse drug to murder your parents, and who made sure you inherited the vineyard. At that time you were taking care of a baby girl named Fabienne. Am I right?"

Ambrosia dismissed all thought of deception. Sanguineus saw it in her sudden relaxation as she turned on her side, facing him, and hugged the sheet to her shoulder, like a sleepy child just a little afraid of the dark.

"Yes."

"Tell me about it. Why did Fabienne Chora come under your care?"

"I was eighteen. I had left Pella's house in the city so I could be with the horse that Christofer gave me. Pegasus. Yes, a super-horse. A jumper. He had been retired from competition and was kept at the Kastri vineyard. So I moved back in with my parents. Well, Stefan Smirnis killed a policeman in a barroom brawl. Pella, who taught law when she wasn't counting the money she made off the drug scheme, encouraged Berenice Saranikos to defend Stefan. She lost. But Berenice found out about the super-horse drug and became really fascinated with it. She dropped out of sight. Then a year later she shows up at Pella's with a newborn. The father was Vaslo Chora. Our neighbor. Berenice didn't want the baby. So Pella asked me if I would give it a home. I was taking business management courses at the college, and going to see Grigoris in Patmos every other month, me and my friend Marianne. I thought of sharing the upbringing with her. So we did. Marianne took the baby to Patmos for six weeks. But she told 'Tragos' a lie about the baby. She said it was hers, but was going to adopt it out to a French couple. Then Pella was shot, and... I inherited the vineyard. And then Vaslo wanted his daughter. Her legal name is Fabienne Saranikos. It's on her birth certificate. Vaslo swore he would adopt her and give her his surname. Marianne was okay with it, so, in the end, Berenice took Fabienne back, reluctantly. Fabienne's been with them ever since. She's almost ten years old now. Vaslo never adopted her, though. He seems to hate her. He runs drugs for the Wharf Men, and Berenice is into witchcraft. She has money enough to indulge her craziness."

Sanguineus smiled. He leaned back and propped an ankle on a knee. "Her craziness? And what of yours? Who thought up this Crucia craziness? It was you and Marianne, playing around with the Tragos philosophy. But what interests me most is the Medusa angle. Medusa gave birth to Pegasus. Medusa can turn people to stone by looking at them. Now here's the thing. Fabienne stared at Sally Anne Bern, before Wingate came. They stared at each other for several seconds. Sally says she felt a very strange sensation, like her body was going numb. But when the girl looked down, the sensation ended. I think your interest in Fabienne isn't a maternal one. There is an odd thing about the girl that you want to take advantage of."

Ambrosia sat up, the sheet drifting to her hips. "She has asthma! I want to heal her! That girl has faith, faith in me, in Crucia, in Pegasus, in..." Her face stiffened, her eyes wary.

"Faith in the crucifixion ritual, victims nailed to flying crosses," Sanguineus said. "You think this is going to heal her of asthma?"

"Yes!"

"Who do you intend to crucify? Who are the two victims?"

"What do you care! It isn't about Pella's killer!"

Sanguineus stood up. "If you aren't going to answer my questions, then I'll assume you killed Pella."

"You know I didn't!"

"What does that matter to me? If you're going to clam up, I'll see you stay clammed up forever. Now, goddamn you, who do you intend to crucify?"

Ambrosia smiled. She laid back on the pillows, her arms spread, her breasts rising. She was seething with a mixed passion.

"The goat and the witch," she said.

At the moment Sanguineus had no time to react. Rolgo's voice was coming through the receiver.

"The car drove off. It made a U-turn near Demos' position. His night goggles gave him a clear view of the passenger in the front seat. He believes it's Ambrosia's lover. That would be Agape? There were two men in the back seat, with a woman between them. Demos thinks it's the teacher, Fabienne's teacher. He doesn't recall the name, but that would be Marianne Limani. One more thing: the super-horse breeder in Argentina is under investigation. He's part of Agape's drug ring. Out."

Sanguineus sat on the edge of the bed. He was studying with calculation the smoldering light in Ambrosia's eyes. She lay on her back gazing up at him as if this was a dream.

"You have the 'Spirit of Beauty,' but that isn't enough for you," he said, "or maybe you think it's incomplete. You want the cold fire of the Gorgon, the source of Medusa and her power to petrify. You see it in Fabienne. Tell me... Marianne: she's the girl's teacher. Is she your rival?"