others in my party. You were our guide. No further questions.”
“What is your occupation?”
“I’m a bellboy at the Palace Hotel in Ioannina.”
“Would you please look at the defendant seated in the defendant’s box. Have you
ever seen her before?”
“Yes, sir. In movies.”
“Did you ever see her in person before today?”
“Yes, sir. She came into the hotel and asked me what room Mr. Douglas was staying
in. I told her she’d have to inquire at the desk and she said she preferred not to bother
them, so I gave her the number of his bungalow.”
“And this was when?”
“The first day of August. The day of the meltemi.”
“And are you sure that this is the same woman?”
“How could I forget her? She tipped me two hundred drachmas.”
The trial was going into its fourth week. Everyone agreed that Napoleon Chotas was
conducting the best defense they had ever witnessed. But in spite of this the web of guilt
was being woven tighter and tighter.
Peter Demonides was building up a picture of two lovers, desperate to be together, to
be married, with only Catherine Douglas standing in their way. Slowly day by day,
Demonides elaborated on the plot to murder her.
Larry Douglas’ attorney, Frederick Stavros, had gladly abdicated his position and
relied on Napoleon Chotas. But now even Stavros began to feel that it would take a
miracle to get an acquittal. Stavros stared at the empty chair in the packed courtroom and
wondered if Constantin Demiris was really going to make an appearance. If Noelle Page
was convicted, the Greek tycoon would probably not come, for it would mean that he had
been defeated. On the other hand, if the tycoon knew there would be an acquittal, he
would probablv show up. The empty chair was becoming a symbol of which way the trial
would go.
The seat remained empty.
It was on a Friday afternoon that the case finally exploded.
“Would vou state your name, please?”
“Doctor Kazomides. John Kazomides.”
“Did you ever meet Mr. or Mrs. Douglas, Doctor?”