“I just received a call from Spyros. He wants to make peace with you.”
There was a short, derisive laugh. “I’ll bet he does. When I’m through with him he’ll have all the peace he’ll ever want.”
“He said he’s not going to compete with you any more, Costa. He’s willing to sell you his fleet.”
“Sell me his…Are you sure?” His voice was suddenly filled with interest.
“Yes. He said he’s had enough.”
“All right. Tell him to send his accountants over to my office, and…”
“No. He wants to meet with you this afternoon at three o’clock at Acrocorinth.”
“His lodge?”
“Yes. It’s a secluded place. It will be just the two of you. He doesn’t want word of this to get out.”
I’ll bet he doesn’t, Demiris thought with satisfaction. When word does get out, he will be a laughingstock. “All right,” Demiris said. “You can tell him I’ll be there.”
The drive to Acrocorinth was a long one, on winding roads that meandered through the lush countryside, redolent with the odors of grapes and lemons and hay. Spyros Lambrou passed ancient ruins along the way. In the distance, he saw the fallen pillars of Elefsis, the ruined altars of lesser gods. He thought of Demiris.
Lambrou was the first to arrive at the lodge. He pulled up in front of the cabin and sat in the car for a moment, thinking about the meeting he was about to have. Did Constantin really want a truce, or was this another one of his tricks? If anything happened to him, at least Melina knew where he had gone. Spyros got out of the car and walked into the deserted lodge.
The lodge was a lovely old wooden building with a view of Corinth in the distance below. As a boy, Spyros Lambrou had spent weekends there with his father, hunting small game in the mountains. Now he was after bigger game.
Fifteen minutes later, Constantin Demiris arrived. He saw Spyros inside, waiting there, and it gave him a glow of satisfaction. So, after all these years, the man is finally willing to admit he is defeated. He got out of his car and walked into the cabin. The two men stood there, staring at each other.
“Well, my dear brother-in-law,” Demiris said, “so we’ve finally reached the end of the road.”
“I want this madness to end, Costa. It’s gone too far.”
“I couldn’t agree with you more. How many ships do you have, Spyros?”
Lambrou looked at him in surprise. “What?”
“How many ships do you have? I’ll purchase them all. At a substantial discount, naturally.”
Lambrou could not believe what he was hearing. “Purchase my ships?”
“I’m willing to buy all of them. It will make me the largest fleet owner in the world.”
“Are you crazy? What—what makes you think I would sell you my ships?”
It was Demiris’s turn to react. “That’s why we’re meeting here, isn’t it?”
“We’re meeting here because you asked for a truce.”
Demiris’s face darkened. “I—who told you that?”
“Melina.”
The truth dawned on both of them at the same moment. “She told you I wanted a truce?”
“She told you I wanted to sell my ships?”
“The stupid bitch,” Demiris exclaimed. “I suppose she thought that by bringing us together we would reach some sort of agreement. She’s a bigger fool than you are, Lambrou. I’ve wasted a whole afternoon on you.”
Constantin Demiris turned and stormed out the door. Spyros Lambrou looked after him, thinking, Melina shouldn’t have lied to us. She should have known that there’s no way her husband and I could ever get together. Not now. It’s too late. It was always too late.
At 1:30, earlier that afternoon, Melina had rung for the maid. “Andrea, would you bring me some tea, please?”
“Certainly, ma’am.” The maid left the room, and when she returned with the tea tray ten minutes later, her mistress was speaking into the telephone. Her tone was angry.
“No, Costa, I’ve made up my mind. I intend to divorce you and I’m going to make it as messy and as public as I can.
Embarrassed, Andrea set the tray down and started to retreat. Melina waved to her to stay.