Triple Cross [antikvár]

pCHAPTER ONEIt was one of those little fisMng villages on the Aegean Sea, some eighty kilometers east of Athens. Under a hi^ noon sun, I walked into it along the dusty main road.I wore the clothes of a Greek fisherman, smoked a blackened pipe, and felt the eyes on me as I reached the cafe. Four local fishermen sat at table under the awning of the cafe that faced the narrow harbor in the hot sun.''A bad day for walking,** one of them said.He spoke Greek in the local dialect.Tor waUdng,** I said, "what day is good?"I spoke Greek in the local dialect. They all laughed, and didn't look at ine again as I walked on into the cafe But if I hadn't answered in the dialect that went with my disguise, they wouldn't have7