Whenever Robert Ashby met anyone for the first time, he could read their character fairly well to understand the person he was dealing with.
Obviously, Kyriacou was a rogue. Hellas Global would deny any knowledge of him. If he was a thug delivering a warning, someone’s cage had been rattled by the questions asked in Piraeus. Word must have got about that Ashby was poking his nose where it wasn’t wanted. Someone – whether it was Hellas Global, the mate of the Aegean Star, Hermes Transnational or all of them together – wanted him silenced.
The court case in London was in the coming week. Hellas Global had said that the master and crew of the Captain Stratos had not survived the sinking. Why then would Christoforou materialise out of nowhere after three years ? If he really was alive and Plantation could find him, the claim might collapse. At the hearing, he would have been the star witness. Everyone would have wanted to know what caused the ship to sink. But with the master out of the way, Hellas Global would avoid many awkward questions.
The question was therefore whether Christoforou was still alive.
Ashby’s probability theorem said that the factual matrix accepted by everyone was wrong. The chances of the master being involved in two sinkings was like lightning striking twice. In support of this, there was now new data : what the mate of the Aegean Star had said ; the barman’s access to further conclusive information ; and the unexpected visitor, Dimitros Kyriacou. All of these undermined the theory that the Captain Stratos had sunk with all hands.
However, to start from the opposite position that Christoforou and the crew were all alive would be difficult to prove. The ship’s master would avoid disturbing Hellas Global’s claim and the court proceedings in London. If he and the others were alive, they would stay well hidden, anywhere in the world. If Ashby was to dig them out, it would be a lengthy process. Where would he start ?
Perhaps the first step would involve Ashby reviewing his strategy on timing. If he had enough time left to get the truth out of Piraeus, subterfuge would be needed.
Having slept on it, the following day was Sunday. He decided there was no point trying to contact Nikos at the taverna : he would need to bring in specialists. It would also be pointless to confront Hermes Transnational, the owners of the Aegean Star. In the fullness of time, he might pass his information on to their insurers who had paid for a scuttled ship. For the present, he would leave Hermes for another day.
He managed to get a flight back to London later that day, only to discover when he arrived that there were no tube trains from Heathrow : the train drivers were still on strike. There were no black cabs either and any mini-cabs to be found were charging a king’s ransom to get into London. Did nothing in the country work properly ? The Sunday newspapers were full of stories about the unemployed who numbered over three million ; the government was at war with the unions and was intending to flog off every nationalised industry in sight. Despite that, some things never changed : “Vicar In Flagrante At Bordello”, crowed one rag.
When Ashby finally reached Fenchurch Street and got into his office, he found the fax letter on his desk from Plantation’s New York lawyers about the Victor 7 case. At least something was going in the right direction.
There was a mound of correspondence and paperwork on the other claims which he’d put to one side while he was concentrating on the Captain Stratos. Although he felt exhausted, there was no-one to disturb him. Now was the time to go through it.