The Other Side of Midnight [antikvár]

PROLOGUE Athens: 1947 Through the dusty windshield of his car Chief of Police Georgios Skouri watched the ofl&ce buildings and hotels of downtown Athens collapse in a slow dance of disintegration, one after the other like rows of gant pins in some cosmic bowling alley. "Twenty minutes," the uniformed policeman at the wheel promised. "No traffic." Skouri nodded absently and stared at the buildings. It was an illusion that never ceased to fascinate him. The shimmering heat from the pitiless August sun enveloped the buildings in undulating waves that made them seem to be cascading down to the streets in a graceful waterfall of steel and glass. It was ten minutes past noon, and the streets were almost deserted, but even the few pedestrians abroad were too lethargic to give more than a passing curious glance at the three police cars racing east toward Hel-lenikon, the airport that lay twenty miles from the center of Athens. Chief Skouri was riding m the first car. Under ordinary circumstances, he would have stayed in his comfortable, cool office while his subordinates went out to work in the blazing noon heat, but these ctrctrai-stances were far from ordinary and Skouri had a twofold reason for being here personally. First, in the course of this day planes would be arriving carrying VIPs from various parts of the globe, and it was necessary to see that ?hey were welcomed properly and whisked through Customs with a minimum of bother. Second, and more important, the airport would be buildings and hotels of downtown Athens collapse in a slow dance of disintegration, one after the other like rows of gant pins in some cosmic bowling alley. "Twenty minutes," the uniformed policeman at the wheel promised. "No traffic." Skouri nodded absently and stared at the buildings. It was an illusion that never ceased to fascinate him. The shimmering heat from the pitiless August sun enveloped the buildings in undulating waves that made them seem to be cascading down to the streets in a graceful waterfall of steel and glass. It was ten minutes past noon, and the streets were almost deserted, but even the few pedestrians abroad were too lethargic to give more than a passing curious glance at the three police cars racing east toward Hel-lenikon, the airport that lay twenty miles from the center of Athens. Chief Skouri was riding m the first car. Under ordinary circumstances, he would have stayed in his comfortable, cool office while his subordinates went out to work in the blazing noon heat, but these ctrctrai-stances were far from ordinary and Skouri had a twofold reason for being here personally. First, in the course of this day planes would be arriving carrying VIPs from various parts of the globe, and it was necessary to see that ?hey were welcomed properly and whisked through Customs with a minimum of bother. Second, and more important, the airport would be