Chapter 15 : Metaxa and Melancholy

Freddie watched as the buyers began to leave. Narod Jesper's yacht slid towards the horizon. The Beaver floatplane Steve Glennis had come in lifted off from the bay. Even the Kushtians had gone.

It was always the same after a sale; Clegg felt flat, empty almost. He always hated saying goodbye to the merchandise and although the buyers could be tedious at times he'd known most of them for a long time and he was sorry to see them go, too.

The auction had gone well. All of the original lots had gone for more than their estimates. Slowdown in the global economies and the credit crunch not withstanding, Freddie's market was proving as invulnerable to recession as ever. The archaeologists had made surprisingly good prices, given that the buyers had not been given advanced notice of their availability. Bethany had attracted some agreeably competitive bidding between two buyers that recognised her from her television programmes. She had become more alarmed as the bidding increased, imagining — rightly - that the higher the price, the more that was likely to be demanded of her.

Of course, now there were a lot of loose ends to be tied up. He hated that. It was always the downside of having to improvise. He much preferred to have things all set out beforehand but that hadn't been possible this time. The puzzle of the five missing archaeologists would have to be explained. Well, he'd be able to fix something with the help of Petros, he was sure. The non-existent Albanians were already in the frame for the burglary at the site. It shouldn't be too hard to stage something convincing to account for the disappearance of the girls.

Then, there was something to be done about the excavation site. He needed to make sure that the next lot of archaeologists that turned up on the island stayed away from his corner of it. It could only be a matter of time before more of them turned up with their trowels and brushes and radar and resistivity machines. Still at least he had the finds that the girls had turned up. Perhaps they could be used to salt another site. In the mean time he decided that he really ought to buy the land in the valley. At least that would give him some measure of control, and, besides, he'd been thinking that he ought to build some tennis courts and maybe a golf course. If nothing else even if he just got started it would give him an excuse to bulldoze the work that had been done there so far. Stephanos would square it with the island's council.

He was pondering the issue when Alexander appeared with his sister.

"Mr Clegg," Alexander said. "The shipment is ready if you would like to check it."

Freddie nodded. "I'm sure they're fine," he said. "But I'll come and see." If only the buyers would take their purchases with them, they'd save money and he'd have a lot less effort. On the other hand it was more revenue and it gave him an edge over some of his competitors. Clegg's customers knew that their purchases would arrive securely and in good condition.

The only one that was taking any of their purchases with them was Pashim Bey. He'd been successful in the bidding for all of the archaeologists — Freddie wondered for a few moments what he had planned for them. Bethany, though, was to accompany him. His ghanjah would set sail for Alexandria as soon as she was loaded but she would have to wait until the others were dealt with. They had a ferry to catch.

Freddie was confident that Andrea and Alexander had done a good job on packing the shipment but he knew that his approval and encouragement were important to them. He followed them down. It was already getting dark when they got to the yard. The truck would be here soon.

Freddie had been pleased with the idea of the stone blocks. He could remember when they'd thought of it. That was the good thing about working with Harry, this was just the sort of thing he was great at; innovative but practical, too.

They'd been sitting out by the pool, before they'd made the changes in the villa's cellar. They'd been discussing how they would get the girls in and out. One of the quarry trucks had bounced by on the road, throwing a great cloud of white dust up into the air. Freddie had said, "Well it can't be any harder than moving stone can it?" Two days later Harry had come back with the design.

Freddie walked across to the pile of stone blocks. From any distance greater than about a foot they looked like the perfect white marble that came from the quarry. It was only up close that you could see the tiniest of cracks outlining a small square panel. Freddie pressed it and it swung open. Inside an array of small dials gave the vital data; beats per minute, blood pressure, oxygen content, respiration rate. The needles on the gauges all pointed to the green sector on their dials, the occupant of the block was fine. Beside the gauges was a locked switch. Freddie took his key and opened it. Pressing the button withdrew catches with a clunking sound. The top of the block lifted slightly.

Freddie lifted off the false lid of the block. Inside, helplessly secured and plumbed in to the block's various systems, was Helen. Thinking about Helen's situation, Freddie recalled the story of the wooden horse. This was much the same idea, he felt, but an altogether more peaceful application of the concept.

The sedative that they gave the girls before shipping had already taken effect, Helen barely registered the fact that the block had been opened, in spite of the fact that she was staring straight up at Freddie. The strap across her forehead held her head rigid against the padded packing of the block. A heavy neck corset fixed to the block, also helped to keep her head still. The sedated girl hardly needed the strap gag that held the thick leather plug deep in her mouth but it had been fitted nevertheless. You never knew for sure how long the sedatives would last.

Helen stared up at him through the hazy veil drawn across her consciousness by the drugs. She seemed to look half uncomprehending, half in despair. It was always hard to be sure about the drugs. The gag, on the other hand, was much more predictable and besides it carried her feeding tube as well.

Freddie ignored the sensors for the girl's vital signs, they were evidently working. He did check that the twin vibrating dildoes were firmly in place and operational though. They wouldn't be run for long but their occasional input would help to stop her from getting bored during the journey.

The straps around her chest, waist, thighs, calves, wrists and ankles were all fixed securely too. There was no risk of her moving around in the block and coming to any harm.

"Neatly done, Andrea," Freddie praised, checking the tension in the straps. "Tight enough to keep her secure but not so tight as to be any risk to her circulation. I assume the others are the same?"

"Of course, boss," Andrea smiled, pleased that her expertise had been recognised

Freddie pushed the lid of the block back into place. It clicked home with a reassuring sound. As it did so the stone truck from the quarry appeared, Stephanos at the wheel.

Using the truck's hoist, Stephanos and Alexander soon had Freddie's shipment on the back of the truck, the false blocks mixed in with real blocks of stone from the quarry. Freddie waved Stephanos away, he had time enough to catch the ferry but there was no point in leaving things until the last minute. The girls in their blocks would feel little physical discomfort, the drugs would see to that. Their journeys, locked immobile within their tiny prisons, would have mental terrors though. In some ways, Freddie thought, at least it prepares them for their new lives. Restrained and helpless, controlled by outside forces, unable to decide anything for themselves; their journey into captivity was as good a metaphor of their future lives as you were likely to find.

Andrea watched the departing truck. "Now for Bethany?"

"Yes," said Freddie. "Now for Bethany. Pashim Bey was quite specific about the arrangements for her shipping."

Bethany was sitting disconsolately in her cell, chained by her neck to the wall. By now resigned to her fate, the arrival of Andrea and Freddie brought no more than a quiet moan from her ball-gagged mouth. With her wrists cuffed behind her back she could not prevent Andrea from administering the injection that would sedate her in readiness for her despatch. The drug took effect. Bethany was still conscious but unable to move. Andrea released her from the neck chain and handcuffs. Freddie lifted her naked body and carried her from the cell to place her on a large table at one end of the room.