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you know.”
    â€œHm-m. Yes. Kinetta Beach,” said Chester. He looked at his wife.
    â€œYou’re very kind,” Colette said to Rydal. “Kind to endanger yourself for us.”
    Rydal had no reply. He noticed the bulge of the gun in Chester’s jacket pocket for the first time. It occurred to him that the MacFarlands were going to need different passports at once. By tomorrow, anyway. Niko was the man for that.
    â€œWhat about Crete?” Chester asked. “We did want to go to Crete.”
    â€œThat I happen to know about,” Rydal said. “There’s a plane out every morning and a boat a little earlier every morning, but nothing at this hour.”
    â€œAre you part Greek?” Colette asked Rydal.
    Rydal smiled. “No.” He was trying to think, and he was thinking only that he was very bad at this kind of thinking. His mind should be working like lightning, conjuring up the exactly right, brilliant thing for them to do. Niko’s place as a hideout? Rydal somehow didn’t want them there. But why not? Get Colette and Chester into a taxi with their luggage and drive to Niko’s. Niko’s wife Anna would be there now, and would be agreeable to anything. But their apartment was so unspeakably sordid, and they’d all have to be in one room. “Anyway, the thing to do is get out of here right away. Are you ready for a porter?”
    â€œYes, but where do we go?” Chester asked.
    â€œTo another hotel in Athens. I know one. The Dardanelles, about ten or fifteen streets from here. It’s medium-sized and sort of out of the way. Just for tonight. Then tomorrow—I’d suggest Crete rather than the Peloponnesus, because it’s bigger and farther away.”
    â€œOh, wonderful! Crete!” said Colette, as if it were a bright and unexpected spot on a holiday tour.
    â€œJust tell the driver—Hotel Dardanelles?” Chester asked.
    â€œYes. Well, if the bellboys from this hotel are listening, tell the driver the railroad station, then switch it after you take off. You’d better tell the hotel here that you’re taking a night train to—to Yugoslavia, something like that.”
    â€œI get you, I get you,” Chester said, embarrassed that he hadn’t grasped the point a little more quickly. Chester frowned. “You really think that’s best, another hotel in Athens?”
    â€œI do, definitely. With luck, the Greek agent won’t be discovered until early tomorrow morning, when the help start their cleaning. If the hotel here thinks you’ve taken a train, the police’ll check the trains and the borders before they check the hotels in the city.”
    â€œYes. You’re right,” Chester said. Then his lips bared over his set teeth. “Oh, my God, the passports! The God-damned passports!”
    â€œYes, I thought of that,” Rydal said, moving towards the door. “I think I know how something can be arranged.”
    â€œHow?” Chester asked.
    â€œIf I can see you tonight, I’ll explain it. I shouldn’t take up any more of your time now. I’ll call on you tonight at the Dardanelles around ten. How is that?”
    Chester hesitated, then said, “All right.”
    â€œOh, it’s so exciting!” Colette said, rising on her toes, her hands clasped under her chin. She pursed her lips as if to throw Rydal a kiss.
    â€œTill tonight,” Rydal said, and went out.
    Alone, Chester and Colette stared at each other, he frightened and blank, she smiling dazedly.
    â€œI’ll call for a porter,” Chester said, and went to the telephone.
    Colette watched him as he spoke. Now she was frowning a little, biting her underlip as she did when she thought hard about something. After he had hung up, she said, “Ches, what did he mean about that Greek agent not being found till tomorrow morning? When he comes to, isn’t he going to—”
    â€œHoney, I