15
15The next morning Day settled down on the balcony with his coffee to read his backlog of emails. There were several from his London agent, Maurice, who was naturally curious about his progress on the two jobs he had undertaken for the summer. A strong April sun beamed across the balcony from the east, and the scent of spring seemed to float in the air. Day sent Maurice a reassuring reply before returning immediately to the mystery of the Kállos. His thoughts were disrupted by an unwelcome noise, as if the Ruler of the Gods had hurled a thunderbolt into Day’s morning from nearby Mount Zas.
“Oriste! Martin Day,” he said into his phone, the source of the problem. The call was from an unknown Greek mobile.
Oriste“Kalimera sas, Kyrie Day,” said a voice he instantly recognised. “This is K
