He didn't like it. 1 knew he wouldn't, for the Arab-Israeli situation was worsening and it was with some difficulty I had persuaded him to sail east to the Turkish coast. But in this I had the support of Dr. Gilmore, who had been reading up on the Dodecanese in the books he had bought in Athens and had developed an urgent, almost boyish enthusiasm to see as much as he could of the islands of Ancient Greece.
We talked it over at length that evening, and I think it was only the knowledge that I had money waiting for me in Rhodes that induced Bert to fall in with Borg's arrangements. We left two days later, and by then Gilmore had had an answer to a cable he had sent to a friend of his in Cambridge. It confirmed that there was a strong rumour that Holroyd would be making a sensational announcement when he delivered his paper at the Pan-European Prehistoric Congress on May 25.
Sonia's letter had not been at all specific. She was still at Port Vathy, living with a Greek family, and her information was based, not on visits to the dig, but on occasional meetings with her brother, and he was sworn to secrecy. All he would tell her was that two packages had been despatched by air to London for dating and that these would almost certainly "throw new light on the relationship of Cro-Magnon and Mousterian man." It was this which had caused Dr. Gilmore to cable Cambridge, and when he had received the reply, he had written to his friend asking for a full report of Holroyd's paper to be sent to him at Rhodes. "I cannot understand it," he said to me the night before we left Samos. "Pieter must have known the potentialities of that dig, and to leave it to Holroyd just when he'd reached the vital level … it doesn't make sense."
But a force 6 south-westerly soon cleared his mind of such remote speculation. He wanted to visit the monastery of St. John the Theologian, which crowns the island of Patmos like a colossal medieval castle, and we were beating into a steep breaking sea for twelve hours. He was not actually seasick, but he found it exhausting, even though he stayed in his bunk and the canvas lee-board was up.
With time to kill, we visited the islands of Leros, Kalim-nos, Pserimos and Kos. Gilmore wanted to see the ruins of the Ionian cities, particularly Budrom, which is ancient Hali-carnassus where the tomb of King Mausolus was being excavated, but nothing would induce Bert to put into a Turkish port. "It's not like Greece, you know. You're treated as though you're a bloody great cargo ship and you have to get clearance from the Harbour Master, Immigration, Customs, Health and Security Police. This happens at every port and it takes the better part of a day to get in and another day wasted getting out. It's hell!" Added to which, the news, picked up sporadically on the radio, was not good. Middle East tension increasing and the Russians reinforcing their fleet through the Dardanelles.
On May 23 we were in the little crater-like port of Panormittis on the island of Symi, being shown over the monastery and the twelfth-century church, with its columns taken from a much older pagan temple to Poseidon. And on May 24 we sailed into Mandraki, between the two arms of the harbour once straddled by the great bronze figure of the Colossus of Rhodes.
I was thinking of Kotiadis as I went ashore, feeling mu'^h more nervous in this big, crowded port, full of tourists, than I had been in the smaller islands. There was an airport here, and if he had checked up on me this would be the place they would pick me up. But the Port Captain's office showed no more interest in us than in any of the other boats along the quay, and at the Bank of Greece the banker's order was handed over and changed into drachmas without comment. They also had a cable for me, which I did not open until I was safely back on board: Friends arriving Samos between June 10–12. It was unsigned.
That meant we might have to spend three nights fooling about in the straits and what the hell did I tell Bert? "Borg wants us to pick up his friends at Samos on June 10."
But he had been having a drink with the skipper of a big schooner moored next to us. Israeli planes had attacked Russian missile sites in the Canal Zone and the schooner was pulling out in the morning. "Cable him we'll pick them up at Athens."
I took him ashore and filled him up with ouzo. But Florrie was more difficult to deal with. She sensed there was something odd. "Why Samos?" she demanded. "Why not here or at Athens, where there's a good air service?" She wanted to leave with the schooner in the morning.
But by now Dr. Gilmore's mind had switched from Ancient Greece to Holroyd and the dig on Meganisi. He could not possibly leave, he said, until he had heard from his friend. Professor Stefan Reitmayer. That settled it, for Florrie regarded him as a very distinguished visitor, treating him with a strange mixture of awe and maternal affection. The schooner left without us and we stayed until the letter arrived
two days later. It was just before lunch when Bert came in with it. We were all in the saloon having a drink, and I can remember now the eagerness with which Dr. Gilmore slit it open, the expression of concentration on his face as he read it, the way he murmured, "Good Heavens!" And when he had finished, he looked up, facing us, his expression grave. "I am afraid I have to leave you and return to Cambridge. Congress has called for an investigation into Professor Holroyd's discoveries and I have been asked to give evidence."
This letter is now in my possession. It is in two parts, and though it is a rather long letter and somewhat technical, the information in it is so important to an understanding of what happened later that I give it in fulclass="underline"
King's College Cambridge May 25 Dear Adrian:
You asked me to let you have the fullest possible account of the paper Holroyd read to Congress this morning, also his answer to the question you asked me to put to him publicly. I am writing this a few hours after the event, whilst everything is still clear in my mind, but I shall not post it until I can give you the reactions of the Organizing Committee of which, as you know, I am a member. They are by no means satisfied.
This was the second day of Congress and as Holroyd had let it be known that the subject of his paper was both sensational and controversial, we had allocated the first hour of the morning session to him. There was a certain air of excitement in the Great Hall as our chairman introduced him, for on entering to take our seats we had all passed the side table on which he had arranged a small collection of exhibits. There were the usual artefacts-but of obsidian, not flint, and they were in two groups, one being considerably more advanced than the other (which had similarities with the Levalloisian industries of North Africa and the Levant). There was also a display of fossil
bones that included deer. But what caught and held the attention of all of us were fragments of three skulls neatly pieced together. One of them appeared to belong to Cro-Magnon man. The other two showed distinct traces of brow ridges and appeared to belong to Neanderthaloids. Both of these were somewhat blackened by fire, but the brain cases were almost complete, except that each had a fearful hole in the top of it, with splintering cracks running out in all directions. No question, both had been subjected to a terrific blow from a sharp-pointed weapon. One was instantly reminded of the baboon skulls Dart found in such profusion at Matapan and his assumption that Australopithecus had had a partiality for brains. The stage was thus set for Holroyd's sensational revelation.
Holroyd is, of course, at his best on the platform, and he can, I suppose, be forgiven a certain elation, knowing the sensation he was going to cause. However, I must admit to a feeling of hostility at the cocky way he walked to the lectern, the smug smile with which he surveyed his captive audience. Since I will be sending you a copy of the paper as soon as it is printed, I will confine myself here to the main points of his discovery and the conclusions he drew.