(#60) The Greek Symbol Mystery (8 page)

“Efharistó,”
Bess said as everyone turned to leave. “Now what?” she asked Nancy. “I suppose there’s no sense trying to check out all the money exchanges. ”

“True,” the girl detective replied, “but I have a hunch the boy probably stopped at one near the Acropolis.”

“I think we passed one when we were in the taxi,” George said. “It’s that way.” She pointed toward a narrow street bordered by apartments.

Quickly, Nancy darted to the traffic light. The cousins trailed after her, crossing the intersection and walking briskly to the other side past the buildings. Soon they reached another corner and their destination.

“Look at that line of customers,” George remarked.

“Which line?” Bess asked. “There are about five of them.”

“Come on,” Nancy said, stepping inside.

The room was crammed with people. Several were seated on benches along the wall, but most of them were standing.

The young detectives separated. Bess looked for the small boy who had stolen her wallet while Nancy and George tried to speak to the clerks.

“Excuse me, excuse me,” George said as she weaved in front of two people.

“Wait your turn,” a woman in line replied.

“But I only want to ask the teller a question.”

“Yeah, well, that’s all
I
want to do.” The woman squeezed close to the person ahead of her. “I’ve been standing here for almost an hour, she said, “and you’ll have to do the same.”

George took a deep breath and gazed in Nancy’s direction. Somehow, she had managed to reach another teller. But when the girls met in the back of the room, Nancy looked disappointed.

“I guess the captain was right,” she said. “They’re all too busy counting money to pay attention to faces.” Suddenly, she became aware of the fact that Bess was missing. “Hey, where’s Bess?”

“She must have left,” George said, rising on tip-toe.

Within a few seconds, however, Bess emerged from the crowd. She was holding a small boy by his shirt collar. “Here’s the culprit!” she exclaimed with pride.

“Mommy!” the child cried.

“That’s not him!” George said.

“Of course it is,” her cousin insisted. “The boy who took my wallet has dark brown hair cut short like this, and he was wearing a blue and yellow T-shirt.”

“Well, the one I saw had on blue jeans,” Nancy put in. She stared at the boy’s blue slacks.

“How can you be so sure they were jeans?” Bess replied.

“I’m a witness,” George chimed in. “And Nancy and I were a lot closer to him than you were.”

“Where is your mother?” Nancy asked the boy.

“In line. We just came to Athens today.”

The girl did not allow him to continue. Obviously, he was not the thief.

“I’m sorry,” Bess said sheepishly. “Here.” She handed him one of her tissues.

He buried his nose in it for a second, then slipped back into the crowd.

“Let’s go,” George declared, “before his mother decides to have you deported. ”

“It was an honest mistake,” Bess defended herself.

Without making any further investigation, the trio returned to their hotel, where they found a message waiting for them. It was written on hotel stationery.

Nancy read it aloud. “ ‘Surprise! We checked in here today. Give us a call at 1110.’ ”

“Uh-oh,” Bess said. “Don’t fall for it.”

“There’s no signature,” George commented as she looked over Nancy’s shoulder.

Only a room number,” Nancy said. “Maybe it’s a ruse to trap us.”

“Count me out,” Bess said quickly. “There’s probably a bushel of apples and snakes waiting for us!”

“I hardly think so,” her cousin said. “After all—”

“Even if I’m wrong, I vote to ignore the message completely.”

“What if it’s from Dave?” Nancy teased. Dave Evans was a special friend of Bess’s.

“In that case—” Bess started to say. “But on second thought—”

“Look, why don’t you stay in our room while we check out 1110?” Nancy interrupted. “If we don’t come back within a reasonable amount of time, send a search party.”

“Good idea,” her friend agreed.

Bess stepped off the elevator on the ninth floor, leaving her friends to continue to the eleventh. It was still early evening. Several people passed Nancy and George in the hallway, but they recognized no one. Despite the knowledge they were not alone, the girl detectives cautiously approached the door marked 1110. The sound of bouzouki music from a radio floated toward them. Nancy glanced at George and pressed the buzzer.

Soon the door clicked open and two mocha-brown eyes stared at Nancy!

11

Clue on the Dock

“Helen Nicholas!” Nancy exclaimed in surprise and hugged her friend.

“And Mrs. Thompson!” George cried happily when she saw the other woman in the room. “We’re so glad to see you! When did you arrive?”

“Just a little while ago,” Helen replied with a smile. “I have missed Greece so much. Where’s Bess?”

“In our room. I’ll call her right away.” Nancy dialed their number and invited her friend to join everyone.

When Bess saw Helen and Mrs. Thompson, she giggled. “And here I thought you were kidnappers !”

“Kidnappers!” the women chorused and Helen asked, “Has somebody threatened you girls?”

“Not exactly,” George answered.

“We’ll tell you everything that’s happened so far,” Nancy promised, “after you give us your news and tell us what’s behind this surprise visit.”

“Yes, what made you decide to come?” Bess asked.

“Mostly hearing Helen talk so fondly about the time she spent here as a child,” Mrs. Thompson replied. “I just felt I had to see Greece myself. Of course, I dearly want to meet Mrs. Papadapoulos and her children, especially Maria.”

“It also occurred to us we might arrange to import some of her handmade embroidery,” Helen said.

“That’s a fantastic
idea!” Nancy exclaimed.

“Helen has agreed to be my interpreter,” Mrs. Thompson explained. “Without her help, I’m sure all that beautiful embroidery would probably end up being shipped to penguins in Antarctica!”

“Of course, it would brighten up their tuxedos!” George quipped.

Everyone laughed, then Helen changed the subject. “Now tell us about your adventures in Athens.”

Nancy explained what had happened to them, mentioning the mysterious clues they had found. Helen and Mrs. Thompson listened transfixed.

“You’re in danger,” the older woman said. “I’m not sure it’s such a good idea for you to stay here.”

“Oh, please don’t worry,” Nancy said gently. “We’re used to this sort of adventure. Besides, now that you’re here to help us, we’ll round up those crooks in no time!”

This made Mrs. Thompson smile. George quickly asked, “Tell us what you two would like to do this evening.”

“Ever since I stepped off the plane, I’ve wanted to go to Herodotus Atticus,” Helen replied.

“The big amphitheater near the Acropolis?” Nancy asked.

“That’s right. I saw so many wonderful plays there as a child. Euripides’ work was always my favorite. ”

It was decided that everyone would meet in the lobby at 8:30 P.M.

“Does this mean we’re going to skip dinner?” George asked, causing a smile to ripple across her cousin’s face.

“Haven’t you adjusted yet to the fact that everybody in Greece eats late?” Nancy replied. “We’re bound to find a restaurant or tavern open near the theater. ”

As predicted, there was a festive-looking café within a block of their destination. Helen, however, begged her companions to visit the theater first.

“There is nothing playing tonight,” she said, “so we won’t stay long.

Bess’s stomach growled in discontent. Nevertheless, she followed the others to the theater. Although it was closed to the public, Helen spoke to a guard who consented to admit the group.

“Isn’t it marvelous?” Helen cried in delight.

She stepped lightly down a stone aisle and paused to gaze at rows of seats that fanned out from the big stage. She motioned the others to join her. George, Mrs. Thompson, and Bess went ahead of Nancy, who stopped to adjust the strap on her sandal. She became aware of two men talking below her in Greek but paid little attention to them until she heard the name Nicholas!

Excitedly, the girl detective hurried down the steps toward Helen. “Did you hear that?” she whispered.

Helen nodded and held up her hands for the others to be quiet. She was trying to overhear the rest of the conversation.

Suddenly, her eyes flashed. “Nancy!” she gasped. “My cousin is hiding in Pireaus!”

“And to think we were just there!” Nancy said.

“I guess it’s time for a return trip,” George put in.

“But in daylight, please,” Bess commented, gazing up at the dark-blue sky.

The next morning, Nancy volunteered to drive everyone to Piraeus. The harbor was filled with ocean-going tankers and freighters that dwarfed the smaller boats.

“Where shall we go first?” Bess asked.

“I suggest,” Helen said, “we park the car and just walk around a bit.”

“That’s fine with me,” Nancy agreed.

All of the conversations they overheard were in Greek. Helen listened closely to one or two of them.

“Anything important?” Bess inquired afterward.

“Possibly,” Helen replied. “The men over there said the police have been inspecting freight shipments for some stolen ancient vases. Then I heard the name Isakos.”

“Isakos!” the girls chorused.

Nancy scooted to the workmen. “What do you know about Mr. Isakos or Constantine Nicholas?” she asked. Helen, who was behind her, translated the question. The men merely shrugged their shoulders.

“They claim they don’t know anything,” Helen told her.

“But you
heard
them,” Nancy said.

Helen repeated the question. This time, however, she spoke at length. The men in turn gave a long answer.

“What did they say?” Nancy asked Helen eagerly when the exchange of words had ended.

“Not much, really. They didn’t tell me any more than I overheard originally. Only that the police have been asking them if they knew a man by the name of Isakos. Apparently, no one does.”

The group walked on until suddenly George stopped and pointed to something on the wall of the wharf.

“Look at this!” she exclaimed excitedly.

The initials
D.G.
were carved in the wall. Drawn around the letters was the figure of a serpent!

“What’s so unusual about that?” Helen asked. “It’s only graffiti.”

“There are things scribbled all over the place around here,” Mrs. Thompson said.

“But this could refer to Dimitri Georgiou,” Nancy pointed out.

“Oh, my goodness! Do you really think so? Helen responded.

“Definitely. ”

Ahead of the group was a shipwright who was repairing a hole in the hull of a freighter. Nancy hurried forward, mentioning Dimitri Georgiou’s name. The man stopped working and nodded.

He knows him! Nancy thought.

He climbed down his ladder and disappeared for a moment, returning in a few moments with a tall, muscular man.

“Dimitrious Georgiakis,” the shipwright smiled, now revealing a prominent space between his upper front teeth.

Nancy and her companions, who stood near her, responded with disappointed faces. Helen told the men they were looking for someone else.

“Will you ask them, too, if this boat goes to the States?” Nancy requested.

“Óhi,
no,” was the answer.

“I wonder,” Nancy said, “if the fake artifacts are shipped first to another country like Italy or France before they’re sent on to the United States.”

“For what purpose?” George asked.

“To protect the identities of the people involved here. ”

Interrupting their tour of the harbor, the young detectives decided to talk to the local police.

“Astinomikós tmíma?
Police station?” Nancy asked a passerby.

The old man lifted his feeble arm and spoke in Greek.

“He’s telling us how to get there,” Helen explained. “It’s not far.”

“Can we walk?” George asked.

“Yes. ”

The group found their way easily. Nancy, again with Helen’s assistance, spoke to the police officer in charge. She mentioned their search for Constantine Nicholas.

“I know nothing about him,” the officer replied.

“Then what have you found out about the art thefts from the museum in Athens?”

“Nothing I am at liberty to reveal. May I ask why you are so interested to know?”

“Nancy is an amateur detective,” Helen answered.

“Oh, I see. Well, this case is meant only for professionals to solve.”

The remark nettled his listeners, who said little more than good-bye.

“We’re not making a whole lot of progress, are we?” Bess remarked as she walked with the others to the car.

“Where could Constantine be?” Helen murmured. “There are so many factories here.”

“And ships,” Mrs. Thompson added.

“He could be anywhere,” Nancy said, turning on the ignition.

The car sputtered as she pressed down on the gas pedal, then stalled. Nancy tried to start it again, but this time there was only a soft click as she turned the key back and forth. The engine was dead.