A six-foot gaff used for hauling in the big fish hung from a hook beside the wheelhouse. It was the only possible weapon and Lomax grabbed it and moved forward quickly.
“Here I am, Riki!” he called.
The Greek glanced sideways, jaw going slack in astonishment, and then he started to turn, bringing the gun to bear. Lomax lunged awkwardly with the gaff and the blade sliced through the heavy reefer jacket into the right armpit
Riki screamed, dropping the gun at once, and staggered backwards, jerking the gaff from Lomax’s grasp. He pulled it from his armpit and sank down on the pile of nets, moaning in pain.
Yanni stumbled across to the rail and leaned over the side, his small body heaving, and Lomax picked up the Beretta and moved after him. The boy turned, wiping his mouth with the back of one band, trying hard to hold back his tears and failing.
“I thought you were dead,” he said. “I thought you’d gone down for good.”
Lomax pushed him gently towards the wheelhouse. “Go inside and wait for me. I won’t be long.”
He pushed the Beretta into the waistband of his pants and went into the galley. It was dark and airless, but he managed to find a towel and went back on deck.
Riki crouched beside his brother who lay very still, head turned to one side, the whites of his eyes gleaming in the diffused yellow light from the wheelhouse.
Lomax dropped to one knee, folded the towel into a thick pad and held it out. “If you hold this under your arm as tightly as you can you might live long enough to see a doctor.”
Riki’s face was sickly yellow in the lamplight, the eyes fixed and staring. “He’s dead,” he said stupidly. “My brother is dead.”
Lomax lifted the man’s arm away from his body and pushed the padded towel into position. Riki made no attempt to stop him. He sat there beside the body of his brother holding his damaged arm against his side and Lomax turned wearily away and went into the wheel-house.
He leaned against the door and closed his eyes and it was as if he was alone and the darkness moved in on him, pushing against his body with a terrible weightless pressure. He was lost, alone hi that darkness groping for a light and then a hand tugged at his damp sleeve and he opened his eyes and looked down at Yanni.
The boy’s face was white and anxious and Lomax patted him reassuringly. “It’s all right, Yanni. I’m not as young as I used to be, that’s all.”
But there was more to it than that-much more. He glanced down through the window at Riki crouched beside the body of his brother and. turned away hurriedly, sick to his stomach.
His hands were shaking when he pressed the starter. The engine coughed once asthmatically and then roared into life, and he took the boat round in a long sweeping curve and said, “Now you can tell me how you managed to turn up when you did.”
“I followed you over the mountain to the farm instead of going back to the villa when you told me,” Yanni explained. “When they brought you outside and put you in the truck, I climbed on to the spare wheel at the rear.”
“You must have had a pretty rough ride,” Lomax said.
“It could have been worse.” The boy shrugged. “I wanted to go for Kytros, but I didn’t like to leave you. I couldn’t walk along the jetty because of the lamp, so I swam out from the beach and climbed over the stern. That’s when I knocked the can over.” He hesitated and said diffidently. “Did I do right, Mr. Lomax?”
Lomax grinned down at him. “I’m beginning to wonder how I ever managed without you.”
The fog that curled up from the surface of the water had thickened a little, but within a few minutes he saw the harbour lights on the port side and altered course.
As they passed the end of the pier, Yanni moved out on deck and stood ready with one of the mooring lines. Lomax reduced speed and cut the engine when they were a few yards from the jetty. He had miscalculated slightly and the boat drifted broadside on against the pilings with a splintering of wood, the shock sending him staggering across the wheelhouse.