The Mykonos Mob

by Jeffrey Siger

  Andreas hugged her to him in a playful struggle to keep her from swinging the pillow. “Women, you’re all so different.”

  Lila stopped swinging. “That’s precisely what I’m hoping to discover on Mykonos.”

  “Amen.”

  Toni lived in a hotel close by the cove where she’d met Yianni. It was more a big house with bedrooms than a hotel, but the Tourist Board allowed its owner to call it a hotel and gave it more stars than it deserved, entitling him to charge tourists higher room rates than Toni would ever pay if she didn’t have a special deal as a year-round resident. Some might say the Tourist Board bent the rules for the owner because his cousin once was mayor, but to be fair, virtually every island local had a cousin who once was mayor.

  On a normal day, Toni woke around one p.m., the perfect time to start your day when you lived in a hotel on a hard-partying tourist island. At that hour, the hassle of the noontime check-out crowd gathered at reception had passed, while the hordes arriving for a two p.m. check-in hadn’t yet massed, and the rowdy, sun-worshipping crowd had long since left for the beaches.

  Today, she felt, more than heard, the room phone on her bedside table ringing and grabbed for it without opening her eyes.

  “Hello. What time is it?”

  “Did I call too early?”

  “If you have to ask, yes. And who is this?”

  “Me, Yianni. I…ah…guess I should’ve waited later to call.”

  “Yep. But it must be important for you to have called at whatever ungodly hour it now is. Did you find the woman from the cove?”

  “Uh, no, it’s not about that.”

  Toni opened her eyes and grasped for her mobile phone. “Then what is it about?”

  “I wanted to know if you’d like to go to the beach.”

  Her eyes fixed on the time on her phone. “It’s ten o’clock in the f-ing morning!”

  “I know, but—”

  “I didn’t get to bed until four.”

  “Is that a no on the beach?”

  “I’m never up this early. I don’t even know if there’s sun on the beach at this hour.”

  “At least your sense of humor’s awake.”

  “Don’t bet on it.”

  “So, yes, or no?”

  “Why so early? Besides, I thought today was a workday?”

  “My boss arrives this evening, and I suspect I’ll be pretty busy once he gets here, so I figured I should try to get in as much beach time as possible while I can.”

  “And I just happen to be the only person you know on the entire island with time to hang out with you on the beach.”

  “That sort of tells it like it is.”

  Toni swung her legs out over the edge of the bed and sat up. “So what time did you have in mind for picking me up?”

  “Whatever works for you works for me.”

  “I doubt that, but let’s compromise on an hour from now.”

  “See you then.”

  “Whoa, don’t you want to know where I live?”

  Yianni said the name of the hotel.

  “How did you know that?”

  “I’m a detective, remember?”

  “Fine, I’ll see you in an hour. Bye.”

  She waited until he’d said goodbye before hanging up the phone.

  He seemed like a nice guy. But they all seemed that way when they were looking to get laid.

  “Out of all the beaches on the island, why did you pick this one?” asked Toni as they walked through the main entrance to The Beach Club, headed toward the sea.

  “I take it you’re not impressed?”

  “If I were looking for a beach filled with high expectations and low realization rates, this would be it. That is, of course, unless you’re willing to pay for companionship.”

  “Don’t worry, I’m springing for the sunbeds.”

  “Not on your cop’s salary.”

  Yianni smiled. “So much of this place is illegal, I guarantee you we’ll get the best seats on the beach at a special price for guys with badges.”

  Toni looked up and down the beach. “I haven’t been here in years. That’s a lot of people on the beach already.”

  “It’s never too early for sun-worshippers anxious to start grilling themselves under the grand sunlamp in the sky.”

  Toni stared at him. “When are you going to tell me why you really dragged me out here so early in the morning?”

  “Like I said, I wanted company.”

  “This is The Beach Club, and we both know it’s owned by a guy who specializes in providing company to lonely guys, with, I imagine, ‘special pricing for guys with badges,’” she said, using finger quotes for emphasis.

  Yianni stared at her. “How do you know these things?”

  She shrugged. “I’ve lived here a while, so I’m treated kind of like a local. Gossip is the lifeblood of an island this small, and island reality is much different from what you’ll find in the news or likely hear from a local, unless you’re also a local.”

  “Yes, but you seem particularly well-versed on the racy details about some prominent islanders.”

  “The cardinal rule of islanders is not to speak ill of their island to anyone but another islander, which leads to a natural corollary: ‘Thou shalt complain long and often to thy neighbor.’ Which means conversations are peppered with spicy bits of gossip about who’s corrupt, who’s more corrupt, who’s most corrupt, who’s fooling around on whom, who’s getting away with ignoring the laws, and the island’s various crimes and perpetrators.”

  She paused to take off her sandals. “Why am I telling you this? You must already know that once random crime works its way up to the status of somewhat organized, locals know who’s committing it. The problem is getting anyone to do something about it.”

  “A big part of that problem,” said Yianni, “is that as long as locals aren’t the targets, far too many are willing to ignore it. It’s like the weather, unavoidable. Plus, it makes plenty of them richer in the process.”

  “That’s how they used to think, but now locals are coming to realize those days are past. It’s not as seasonal as it used to be. Once tourists leave, the bad guys concentrate on the locals. Theft and robbery are a year-round plague. But like everything else that’s out of whack on this island, locals keep it to themselves, fearing that to do otherwise might tarnish the island’s image as a tourist paradise.”

  “The perfect attitude for losing control of their island to the predators.” Yianni waved to a tan, fit, handsome young man in bright orange swim trunks standing by the club’s beachside entrance.

  The man jogged over to them. “May I help you?”

  Before Yianni could answer, he heard an unfamiliar voice yell out, “Toni, how are you?”

  Toni and Yianni swung around, looking for a body to go with the voice.

  “We’re over here,” called a different voice.

  Three rows of beach chairs closer to the sea from where they stood, and ten umbrellas farther down that row, a naked, well-toned and tanned man in Persol aviator sunglasses stood, waving madly at Toni. Beside him, a nude, tanned, and toned blonde jumped up and down, also waving wildly while the rest of her bounced in accompaniment.

  It seemed that everyone on the beach had turned to watch them shout for Toni’s attention. She looked at Yianni. “I have absolutely no idea who they are.”

  “Toni, come join us,” came another shout from the woman.

  Yianni turned to the young man in the orange swimsuit. “I guess we won’t be needing your help after all.”

  Toni forced a weak smile, offered a brief wave, and together they squeezed toward the couple between snugly fitted rows of sunbeds and umbrellas. They kept apologizing as they jostled through the sunbathers.

  “I still don’t recognize them,” muttered To
ni.

  “From this distance, don’t bother focusing on their faces. You’ve got a better chance of recognizing them from all the work they’ve had done on their bodies.”

  The couple appeared to be surgically augmented in all the right places and dedicated to exhibiting the fruits of modern medical science—the kind of tourists who made the island a promotional paradise for plastic surgeons. The closer Yianni and Toni came, though, the more the couple aged, and Yianni pegged them for several decades older than he.

  The instant Toni and Yianni reached the couple, bear-hug embraces locked them between greasy, sweaty, sandy, naked male and female bodies. After enduring what Yianni took to be a respectful period of time for a hugging reunion among siblings separated at birth, he twisted away.

  “Enough already, guys,” said Toni. “You’re getting the whole beach excited.” She dropped down onto one of the couple’s sunbeds. Yianni remained standing, waiting to be introduced.

  The woman plopped down and snuggled up next to Toni, while the man positioned himself on the bed directly across from her. Yianni made sure to keep his eyes focused on their faces.

  “How long’s it been, Toni?” said the man.

  “Too long,” said the woman, squeezing Toni’s thigh.

  Americans, thought Yianni from their accented English.

  “Yeah, I know,” said Toni, still with a blank expression on her face.

  “Janet couldn’t believe it was you. She said this was never your sort of place.”

  Toni gave a cautious nod and forced smile. “I’m glad to hear you know me so well.”

  The man dropped his head down so that Toni could see his eyes above his sunglasses. “You don’t remember us, do you?”

  “As a matter of fact, I am having a bit of trouble placing you.”

  Janet jumped up, hugged Toni, her breasts poking into Toni’s eyes, and sat back down. “That’s perfect!” Janet said, looking at the man for agreement. “See, dear, we really have changed.”

  The man crossed his legs in what Yianni took to be more a gesture of seriousness than modesty.

  “We used to stay in your hotel, back when you first came to the island.”

  A look of recognition began to move across Toni’s face. She stared at the woman. “Janet?” She turned to the man, “Larry?”

  The woman clapped her hands and the man smiled broadly.

  “My God,” Toni said. “You each must have lost a hundred pounds, and...and—”

  Larry raised his hand. “No need to search for a gracious way to put it, Toni. Yes, we’ve had a lot of work done.”

  Janet leaned in. “But only after we’d done all that we could to make our bodies better through diet and exercise.”

  “Whatever you did, you look terrific.”

  “We didn’t like the direction our lives had taken,” said Larry. “We’d made a lot of money but realized we’d enslaved our bodies and spirits to our Type A personalities. That’s when we decided there had to be a better way. So, we sold our businesses and spent the next several years getting our bodies into the shapes we wanted. We’re very proud of how it all turned out.” Larry spread his arms. Janet did too.

  “Trust me, I noticed. So has everyone else on the beach.”

  Larry laughed. “We always liked you, Toni. Are you still living in the same hotel, and playing in that same club?”

  “Yes to both. No changes in my life.”

  Larry looked up at Yianni. “I wouldn’t say that. You’re here with this handsome young man.”

  Yianni smiled, extended his hand, and said in English. “Yianni Kouros. Pleasure to meet you, sir.” He looked at Janet. “You, too, ma’am.”

  Larry shook his hand and Janet smiled.

  “Say, why don’t you join us on our boat for lunch? That’s it out there.” Larry pointed to a 118 WallyPower luxury yacht some two hundred meters from shore.

  “I see that when you said you made a lot of money, you meant a lot of money,” said Toni.

  Larry shrugged. “We were lucky enough to be in the right high-tech spot at the right time.”

  “Obviously, I used a different GPS.”

  “Are you happy?” asked Janet.

  “Relatively.”

  “Then you found the right spot for you.”

  “So, guys, are we on for lunch? I’ve got to let the chef know,” said Larry.

  Toni looked at Yianni.

  He shrugged. “Why not?”

  “Great,” said Larry.

  “Only one condition,” said Toni.

  “What’s that?” said Janet.

  “You’ll dress for lunch.”

  “Quite a boat you have here,” said Toni.

  Janet grinned. “The sales brochure calls it a ‘118-foot carbon and fiberglass dream come true for lovers of luxurious seaworthy motor-yacht style.’”

  “How fast can it go?” asked Yianni.

  “Capable of 70 miles per hour. That’s over 60 knots.”

  “I love the color,” said Toni.

  “It’s a reflective dark-green metallic finish that changes with the light and landscape.”

  “Humble, but it’s home,” said Larry, motioning for them to move amidships to a dining table offering a three-hundred-sixty-degree view of all about them.

  “Of all the possible words that come to mind for describing this floating palace, I can assure you humble isn’t one of them,” Toni said.

  “It’s all a matter of perspective. There’s always a bigger boat out there waiting to anchor next to yours.”

  “I see,” said Toni. “So, it’s all tied into that male ‘size-obsession’ thing.” She flashed finger quotes.

  Janet glanced between Larry and Yianni. “Which of you boys is going to jump in here and defend your gender with something like, ‘It’s not the size that counts, but how you use it.’”

  Yianni raised his hands. “Don’t look at me. I’m only here for the food.”

  “A wise decision,” said Larry. “These two will bait you to death if you allow them.”

  “Stop ruining our fun,” said Janet. “How is Toni ever going to get to know her young man if we don’t test him?”

  Larry looked at Yianni. “I won’t take it personally if you decide to dive overboard and escape back to shore. I’ve done that many times myself. It’s probably why I’m such a good swimmer.”

  Janet stuck out her tongue. “But you always come back.”

  “Only for the last forty years.”

  Two Filipino women arrived, carrying serving bowls of salads and platters of grilled fish and chicken. They placed them in the center of the dining table.

  “We tend to eat healthy. I hope that’s okay with you,” said Janet.

  “Works for me,” said Yianni.

  “How many can you sleep here?” asked Toni.

  “Six guests, six crew.” Larry smiled. “And before you get the wrong idea, we don’t own this baby, just chartered it for a couple of weeks.”

  “Whatever you pay, I’m sure it’s a lot more than what I earn in a year,” said Toni.

  “Make that a few years,” said Yianni. “Remember, I saw your tip jar.”

  “Ah, so the man can bite back,” smiled Janet.

  “We’ll have to work on curbing that,” grinned Toni.

  “So, shall we eat?” Larry poured wine into his guests’ glasses before serving his wife and himself.

  “Help yourself to the food,” said Janet. “It’s easier that way.”

  Toni reached for the bowl of Greek salad, but instead of serving herself, served Yianni. Janet glanced at Larry and smiled.

  They ate in silence at first, listening to the water lap up against the hull, while a soft breeze rolled over them.

  “I just love it here,” said Janet. “Don’t you?”


  “If you mean out here on the water doing what we’re doing at this moment, absolutely,” said Toni.

  Janet waved her hand in the direction of the beach. “Oh, yes. Please spare me those pretentious places charging twenty euros to park and five to ten times that amount for a pair of sunbeds, employing restaurant staff that enjoys informing those they perceive as falling outside their preferred customer profile that a table is only available for an allotted period of time at an extravagant minimum amount per person.” She flashed both hands toward the shore in a classic Greek curse.

  “I see you speak Greek,” said Yianni.

  Larry laughed. “It’s just their way of doing business, dear, intended to prod their clientele into competition with one another over how much they can afford to blow on a single meal.”

  “Speaking of blow,” said Toni, “if you happened to be a coke head, all you need is a trip to the WC in many of those places, and a slow run of the side of your hand along any marble countertop, and voilà you have a quick little pick-me-up, gratis.” She looked at Yianni. “Something I’m not into, FYI.”

  Larry jumped in. “But you have to admit, the food and service are terrific, and the prices aren’t much more damaging than at other high-end places on the island. That is, as long as you avoid getting steered to inconceivably overpriced off-the-menu items.” He paused to sip his wine. “If you approach it with that attitude, and of course, come prepared for a dousing in champagne spray from characters celebrating at surrounding tables, you’ll have a great time.”

  Janet shook her head in disagreement and gulped a slug of wine. “You’re just saying that because of that business deal you’re considering.”

  “I’m not considering any deal,” said Larry, matching his wife’s gulp of wine.

  “Yeah, sure,” said Janet. She turned to face Toni. “Larry’s on the phone with his investment people every day, hearing pitches from investment hustlers with the next deal of the century.”

  “I’m not in the habit of turning down deals I haven’t been offered, my dear. It’s why one listens.”

  “If all you did was listen, that would be fine, but you get so worked up you start cursing those people out afterward, and that sends your blood pressure off the charts.” She turned to Toni. “Not to mention what it does to mine.”