“It’s a good thing both you and Mick are good swimmers,” George said, scanning the nearby water.
“Thank goodness you weren’t hurt,” Zoe added.
Nancy combed her wet hair and pulled it back into a ponytail. “I just wish I had seen the face of that man with the spear gun.”
“Well, let’s think about it,” Kevin said. “Who could get their hands on a black wet suit?”
Mick dried off, then pulled a blue T-shirt over his head, “Theo has one. I saw it stashed in the cabin of his boat.”
“But no one has seen Theo all morning,” Zoe said defensively. “Besides, you would have recognized the Sea Star.”
“He could have borrowed a boat from one of his friends at the marina,” Nancy pointed out, then added, “But we also saw Dimitri wearing a wet suit just this morning.”
George snapped her fingers. “That’s right! A black wet suit. He could have jumped in a boat after he disappeared down the beach.”
“But he said he’d been hired to spend the hour photographing some tourists underwater,” Bess added. “That’s why he was wearing the wet suit.”
“We should check out his story, just to be sure,” Nancy said.
Mick looked out over the sea, a serious expression darkening his handsome face. “Do you think that those criminals decided to come after us?” he asked after a moment.
Nancy winced. “I sure hope not. First of all, I’m not sure they’d be able to find us that easily. And if the police are looking for them, my guess is that they’d want to lay low.”
“But it is a possibility,” Bess said, her brow furrowed in concern. “I think we all need to be careful.”
“I don’t intend to mess with those terrorists again,” Nancy assured her friends.
Just then she caught sight of a young man in a black wet suit coming down the path from the hotel. At first she was alarmed, but that feeling faded when she realized it was Theo. He waved and headed right for them.
“Theo’s finally turned up,” Nancy whispered to her friends, “and he’s dressed for the part.”
“Yásou!” Theo called out cheerfully. “I’ve just come back from Dragonisi. I caught a few fish this morning, too.”
“Why are you wearing that?” Zoe snapped at him. She looked as if she didn’t know whether she should attack or defend her friend.
Theo glanced down at the wet suit. “I was snorkeling,” he said, confused.
“You hate snorkeling,” Zoe retorted.
“I changed my mind,” Theo said. He looked from Zoe to the others on the beach. “What’s going on here? Why are you all so serious?”
Jumping to her feet, Zoe went nose-to-nose with Theo. “Nancy and Mick were just attacked by a man with a spear gun—a man in a black wet suit.”
“You must be joking!” he said. Then, realizing that they were serious, he said, “Wait a minute. You don’t think that I—”
Zoe jabbed a finger at his chest. “And you’ve been spending a lot of time on Dragonisi—where three international terrorists were hiding out!”
“What?” Theo looked completely baffled. “What is she talking about?”
Although Nancy wasn’t happy that Zoe had told Theo about the terrorists, she couldn’t let the subject drop now. She told Theo about the letter from Mick’s diplomat friend and about the cushions from the Sea Star that she and Mick had found in the terrorists’ cave.
“I never met those people—I swear it,” he insisted. “A lot of things have disappeared from my boat over the past few weeks. First there were the missing cushions, then fishing equipment and cans of food. I thought the other fishermen were playing tricks on me. Then I realized everything disappeared while I was anchored near Dragonisi.”
“That explains about the orange cushions,” Mick said to Nancy. “And the terrorists probably stole the canned food and fishing stuff, too.”
Nancy still wasn’t convinced. “But what about the red-haired girl?” she asked. Theo blanched at the question, but she didn’t back off. “We saw you with a young woman—a petite girl with red hair who looked just like the female terrorist.”
“She’s not a terrorist!” Frustrated, Theo rubbed his hands over his eyes, then peeked out through his fingers at Zoe. “I have been taking snorkeling lessons from a diving instructor on Dragonisi. A pretty girl, a redhead. But her name is Eleni. And she would never hurt anyone.”
“Then why is Eleni such a big secret?” George asked.
Nancy thought she knew the answer, but she waited for Theo’s reply. Staring at Zoe, he said, “I didn’t want to hurt you. I know you’ve been mad at me for breaking up, but I want to stay friends.”
“I’ve been mad at you for acting so strange!” Zoe protested. “What kind of friend refuses to talk about what he does all day, every day?”
Theo shrugged. “I’m sorry. Will you forgive me?”
Zoe rolled her eyes and sighed. “Only if you promise to be honest with me from now on,” she said. “And wipe that sheepish look off your face.”
“I promise,” Theo said, smiling.
Nancy was glad that Zoe was on better terms with her friend, but she knew that Theo couldn’t be ruled out as a suspect yet. His explanations were reasonable, but how could she be sure that he was telling the truth?
“I don’t understand how Dimitri can still be a suspect,” Bess said as she toweled off her hair.
After a walk down the beach to check up on Dimitri’s whereabouts, the girls had returned to their room to shower before lunch.
“She’s right,” George added. “Those British tourists said that Dimitri spent the entire morning with them, so he couldn’t have been the guy with the spear gun.”
“That proves he didn’t attack us,” Nancy said, “but Dimitri could still be the forger.” Nancy slipped on a royal blue tank top and tucked it into her white denim miniskirt.
“What about Theo?” George asked. “Didn’t you believe his explanation?”
Nancy let out a sigh. “I want to believe him,” she said, pushing back her hair with a blue cloth headband. “But we can’t be sure until we have proof—not just his word.” She opened the wooden shutters to the balcony, and sunlight streamed into the room.
“I wish we knew who we were up against,” Bess said.
“It’s a dangerous situation for all of . . .” Nancy’s voice trailed off. She was standing with her back to the balcony doorway. The sunlight that streamed in hit the top of the dresser, illuminating Bess’s gift-wrapped package.
“Wait a minute,” Nancy said, stepping over to the dresser. Because of the sunlight directly hitting the package, she could see tiny, squiggly blue lines on the wrapping paper.
“What’s wrong?” George asked, standing up.
The intricately patterned blue-green wrapping paper looked familiar to Nancy. She picked up the package and looked more closely. She could make out an eagle in the center of the page. “That’s it!”
She whirled toward Bess and George, who had paused in the middle of dressing to gaze at her. “The answer has been sitting right in this room for days.”
“What are you talking about?” Bess asked.
Nancy waved the package in the air. “See the wrapping paper on this gift? When Dimitri wrapped it in Spiros’s shop, he must have used the wrong paper. This is engraved with an eagle—just like the pages of a U.S. passport.”
George hurried over to Nancy and grabbed the package. Bess moved in close to study it.
“That means Spiros could be the one who’s forging the passports!” George exclaimed, looking up at Nancy in awe.
Nancy nodded. “Exactly.”
Chapter Fourteen
“I CAN’T BELIEVE that clue was in our room all along—right under our noses,” Bess said.
After she, Nancy, and George had shared their revelation with their friends, the group decided to talk over the case at lunch. Now they were at a small waterfront sandwich shop on the harbor in Chora.
“I am
disappointed that my father’s friend would steal from our hotel,” Zoe said as a waitress brought a tray of iced lemonade to their table. “But if Spiros is the forger, the police should know about it.”
Nancy took a long drink of lemonade. She was glad that Zoe understood the need to follow through on their suspecting Spiros.
“I don’t get it,” Kevin said. “How could Spiros be so stupid as to wrap a gift in a fake passport page?”
“Spiros didn’t do it,” George explained. “Dimitri wrapped the gift while Spiros was out of the room.”
“Which proves that Dimitri isn’t involved in the passport forgery,” Nancy added. “He would never have used that paper if he knew what it was intended for.”
“I’ll bet Spiros will be steaming mad when he figures out Dimitri’s mistake,” Mick said.
Nancy nodded. “I just wish I could figure out how Spiros got his hands on those stolen passports.”
“I think he stole them himself—right from our safe,” Zoe said grimly. Seeing Nancy’s surprised expression, Zoe explained that Spiros had been visiting her father at the inn the morning the thefts occurred. “I forgot that he was there, since I never considered him a suspect.”
“If you were opening and closing the safe as often as you said, it would have been easy enough for Spiros to see what the combination was. Then he probably opened it when you or your father were at the front desk,” Nancy said.
Picking up on Nancy’s thoughts, Mick said, “And since your father is so close to Spiros, he never suspected him, either.”
Now that she had a target, Nancy felt a new sense of urgency. “I’ve got to find a way to catch Spiros red-handed—before he gives those passports to the terrorists. We need to watch him closely.”
“I have a girlfriend who lives across the lane from Spiros’s shop,” Zoe explained. “She is away in Athens this week, but her balcony has an outside entrance, and we can use it to watch Spiros without being seen.”
“Sounds perfect,” Nancy said, picking up a piece of tost, a roll stuffed with spiced pork and pressed into a crispy toasted square.
Kevin passed the sandwich platter to George and asked, “Does this mean we’re staging a stakeout?”
“I guess you could say that,” Mick replied.
“But stakeouts can be boring,” Nancy warned everyone, “especially when they drag on for hours. Maybe we should work in shifts to make it easier on everyone.”
The others agreed that Nancy’s idea was a good one. It was decided that Nancy and Mick would take the first watch after lunch. George and Kevin would relieve them an hour later, and Zoe and Bess would take the third shift.
“This balcony gives us a perfect view,” Mick said. He was kneeling and peering over the waist-high ledge of the stucco balcony. The house that Zoe had brought him and Nancy to was just across the narrow lane from Spiros’s shop. From the balcony they could look right into the windows of the studio and of the shop below it. All they had seen of Spiros so far was the top of his head in the store as he sat behind the counter, reading a magazine.
“I just hope we’re not too late,” Nancy said. She was kneeling, too. She also hoped that George and Kevin would show up soon; her knees were getting sore.
“I don’t think anything’s happened yet,” Mick said, giving Nancy’s ankle a squeeze. “It’s just a matter of time before this whole case is wrapped up. And then what? What’s in store for us?”
Nancy glanced at his angular, rugged face. She leaned back, into a semisitting position. “I’ve been thinking about your proposal,” she said slowly. “And I’d really love for you to show me Australia.”
“Great!”
Before Mick could get carried away, she added, “But Australia is really faraway. I’m just not sure about—”
“We can visit River Heights,” Mick interrupted. “After you meet my parents. It’ll be terrific, Nancy. You’ll see.”
“I haven’t made a decision yet,” Nancy said, holding up her hands.
“And I’m not rushing you,” Mick told her. He dropped a kiss on her cheek.
“Are we interrupting something?” Bess asked from behind them. Turning, Nancy saw Bess and Zoe climbing the closed stairway to the balcony.
“We brought these binoculars from the inn,” Zoe said, handing Nancy the glasses.
“We’re going to get ice cream,” Bess added. “Want us to bring you some?”
Nancy checked her watch. “George and Kevin will take over in ten minutes or so,” she said. “I think we can hold out till then.”
“Hey, look—he’s leaving the shop,” Mick whispered, nudging Nancy.
While Bess and Zoe ducked behind the balcony wall, Nancy peered over the top. Spiros was just locking up the shop. Then he climbed the stairs and entered the second-floor studio.
“I should have guessed,” Nancy whispered excitedly. “He has time to work on the passports when the shop is closed for siesta.” She and Mick watched as the old man moved about the room for a few minutes, then sat down at a worktable bathed in sunlight.
“What’s he doing?” Mick asked after a few more minutes. “It looks as if he’s sewing.”
Looking through the binoculars, Nancy was able to make out the item on the table. “He is sewing. He’s doing the seam of a passport!” The sight of the large darning needle sent her mind reeling back. “Remember the sewing basket I found in his file cabinet? That’s what it’s for!”
She handed the binoculars to Mick, who held them up, then whistled. “Pretty crafty.”
“So it looks as if he’s almost finished?” Bess asked.
Nancy nodded. “He must have taken the passport apart to remove the identification page—the one with the photo. Then all he has to do is duplicate a single page with a new photo and new information and sew it all back together.”
They watched as Spiros finished his task and then tucked the passports into the sewing basket. Still holding the basket, he headed for the door.
“What do you think?” Mick asked Nancy.
“We know he’s got the passports,” she whispered. “Let’s split up. We need to contact the police—and keep an eye on Spiros.”
“I’ll go for the police,” Zoe volunteered.
Peering over the ledge, they watched Spiros tuck the basket in the crook of his arm. He went down the stairs and headed down the street. “Let’s go,” Nancy said.
The cobblestone lane was fairly deserted, so the teens followed Spiros at a distance. Most locals and tourists had retired indoors for a siesta. A few blocks down, Zoe turned off down a side street, which led to the police station.
As Nancy, Mick, and Bess followed Spiros through the twisting maze of streets, they passed a handful of Japanese tourists and a young boy with a goat. After a few minutes they found themselves at the foot of the staircase leading up to the windmills.
“This is it,” Nancy said as she started up the stairs. “If he’s got those passports, we have to get them now—before he sells them.” She knew Spiros would never hand over the forged passports. She would have to catch him off guard.
Thinking of a plan, she reached into the back pocket of her denim skirt and pulled out her own passport, which she had carried with her ever since the day the safe was broken into. She had had no idea, then, just how handy her own passport would be!
At the top of the stairs, Nancy saw that Spiros was the only person on the hot, dry summit of the hill. His eyes narrowed suspiciously as he spotted them.
Forcing a smile, Nancy held out her passport as she approached him. “We found this on the steps. I think it fell out of your basket.”
Spiros’s gaze fell on the passport in her hand. With its blue cover and gold seal, it could have been one of the forged passports. Spiros pulled his pipe out of his mouth, then slowly reached forward until his hand closed around Nancy’s passport.
Before Spiros knew what had hit him, Nancy tugged the basket out of his grasp, and Mick grabbed his arms, to restrain him.
> “We’ll be needing this, too,” Bess said, snatching Nancy’s passport from Spiros’s hand.
Nancy rummaged through the basket and pulled out the three passports, their covers bearing the U.S. seal. Nancy opened the first one and saw the face of the bearded terrorist staring at her. Inside the second one she saw the photo of the woman, Shara. “This must be Bess’s passport,” she said. Flipping through the pages, she saw the stamps they had gotten earlier that summer in Switzerland and Italy.
“Leave me alone!” Spiros shouted, struggling to get away from Mick. “You are crazy to be involved in this!”
“This is all the evidence we need!” Nancy announced, waving the passports as Mick wrestled Spiros down and pinned him to the ground.
“Do you want me to run down to the police station?” Bess offered. “Zoe has no way of knowing that we wound up here.”
“Good idea. And take these.” Nancy handed Bess the three forged passports.
“I’ll be back in a flash—with the police,” Bess promised. Then she ran down the steps of Kato Myli Hill.
Spiros had given up struggling with Mick, but he let forth with a flood of angry Greek phrases.
Nancy slipped off her blue headband and gave it to Mick. “Use this on his arms.” A moment later Spiros’s wrists were bound, and he was sitting on the stone pedestal of one of the windmills, with Nancy and Mick standing on either side of him.
For several minutes no one spoke. Then Spiros said urgently, “Please. We must leave here—right away. We are all in danger.”
“The police will be here any minute,” Nancy said. She caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye. “This must be them now.”
Turning her head to peer around the side of the windmill, she heard a sudden cold click, then felt a small solid object against her temple.
Nancy drew in a sharp breath. She had heard that sound before. It was the sound of a cocked pistol—and it was pressed against the side of her head.
Her heart began to hammer in her chest, and she thought, One move and I’m dead.