Andreas thought it might help if he ran through the possible suspects for Pappas, but he didn’t dare. Even if the killer were one of those on his list, there were five others he’d be naming as a potential serial killer. God knows how someone like Pappas would use that information against those men – freely citing Andreas as his source for the slander. Not something to do lightly if you valued a career. Still, if they were to have the best chance at finding her, he might have to tell him.
Andreas was standing by Pappas when he heard him radio the last group of searchers to come in. He looked at Andreas. ‘Any suggestions on where to send in the new guys?’
Andreas nodded no. ‘Wish I did.’
Pappas stared at him and took his sunglasses out of his shirt pocket. ‘Sun’s back.’ He put them on. ‘May I make one?’
‘Sure.’
Pappas walked to the old mining-company maps laid out on the tailgate of his Jeep. They’d used them to keep track of the crews down below. ‘I think we ought to start looking here,’ he said, and pointed to an area by the sea. It was at the opposite end of their current search.
‘Why there?’ Andreas asked.
Pappas shrugged. ‘I don’t know, call it a hunch.’
Now it was Andreas doing the staring. ‘What’s your real reason?’
Pappas gave the smile of a shark searching for prey. ‘Probably about the same as yours for starting us at this end.’ He pointed again at the map.
‘I never told you why I picked there.’ Andreas’ voice was coldly professional.
‘Would you have if I’d asked?’
‘No.’ Andreas cracked a smile.
‘Look,’ Pappas said, his tone changing mercurially, ‘it’s late and I’m tired. This is my suggestion. Decide if you want to take it or not, and call me if you do. I have a business to run.’ He seemed to fall back on that tone every time Andreas almost started liking him, and it pissed Andreas off.
Andreas let his anger pass before speaking. ‘I’ll consider your suggestion. Just tell me where it is. These mining maps have no topographic references I’m familiar with.’
Pappas smiled again. ‘It’s a tunnel that opens over there.’ He was pointing toward the rising sun. ‘By the priest’s beach.’
Andreas was pretty sure how he knew to pick that spot. That brought back his anger, though he tried hiding it. ‘Fine. We’ll start there.’ He knew he sounded abrupt. A few seconds passed and Andreas reached out his hand. ‘Thanks for all your help,’ he said sincerely. ‘We couldn’t have done it without you, and I’d very much appreciate any suggestions you can give the new men.’
They shook hands.
Andreas’ anger wasn’t at Pappas – it was at the contractor’s friend and benefactor, the mayor.
‘The damn bastard only cares about himself.’ Andreas was ranting on the phone to Tassos as he drove back to town. ‘I can’t believe he gave him the names.’
Andreas heard a yawn. ‘Ahhhh, start believing. I’m not surprised. Just be happy he’s on our side – for the moment. By the way, what time is it?’
‘About seven. What do you mean “on our side”?’ Andreas couldn’t shake his anger.
‘He wants to find the killer as badly as we do. He also wants to keep things quiet, and knows Pappas will keep his mouth shut if he thinks it might jeopardize the island’s building boom.’ He yawned again. ‘I’m sure the mayor told Pappas what to say at the meeting in the taverna. It made Pappas look like he wasn’t afraid to stand up to him, and that way the warning about a killer out of Pappas’ mouth, not the mayor’s.’
Andreas shook his head. ‘Real smoothie.’
‘Yeah, so’s a snake. Bet when he gave Pappas the suspects’ names he told him to get you to tell him too. That way, if anything went wrong, Pappas could name you as the source and you’d believe you were.’
‘Son of a bitch.’
‘That’s one of his nicknames. Hey, don’t worry, no harm’s been done, but watch the guy. He’s capable of anything, and I mean anything. That’s how he’s stayed in power so long. He knows where all the bodies are buried – and how to bury them too.’
Andreas winced at Tassos’ choice of words. ‘Okay, so, how are we set up for tonight?’
Tassos wasn’t yawning anymore, but he still sounded casual. ‘There are more churches to Saint Kiriake on Mykonos than I thought, but some – like the big one in town – are too public for our killer to use. We’ll only have to worry about the out-of-town ones off by themselves.’
Andreas’ voice sounded doubtful. ‘Something about this guy makes me not want to take chances.’
Tassos’ tone turned serious. ‘We don’t have enough men. I don’t want a cop sitting alone in the moonlight in the middle of the Mykonos hills waiting for a serial killer to show up. It’s too dangerous, especially for the rookies – not to mention the kids still in the academy. We need at least two for every church.’
Andreas was serious too. ‘Can’t do it. We have to cover all the churches with what we’ve got or I’m calling Athens for help. Can’t risk it. Not with all our suspects running around loose.’
He could hear Tassos’ breathing quicken. ‘What if we get teams to cover the out-of-town churches and uniforms walking beats between the ones in town? That’ll give a show of force in town too – and coverup the fact that most of our cops are in the countryside.’ Andreas knew Tassos was trying to sell him on keeping Athens in the dark, and he wondered if Tassos might be more worried about his pension than he’d let on.
‘What time do we deploy?’ Andreas’ tone was neutral; he would think about the suggestion.
‘To be safe, I figure two hours before sunset. They’ll be up all night.’
‘They’re young Greek men on Mykonos – they should be used to that.’ There was a mischievous lilt to Andreas’ voice.
Tassos laughed. ‘Yes, but it’s harder to stay awake when you’re not drinking and dancing.’
Andreas laughed too. ‘Where are you now?’
‘Syros. I had to wake up the archbishop to get his help. I’ve had a half-dozen men going through the archdiocese’s records since three this morning mapping every Saint Kiriake church on Mykonos – everyone they have a record of, that is.’
That alarmed Andreas. ‘How can there be churches they don’t know about?’
‘As the archbishop told me, we’re talking centuries here, and it’s possible not every church is in their records. The local priest would know, and certainly the family who takes care of the church would know; it’s just that Syros may not have a record of it.’
Andreas knew it seemed too simple just to watch every Saint Kiriake church until the bastard showed up. ‘That’s just great. So, how do we make sure we have them all covered?’ He knew if there was one person on Mykonos who knew them all, it was the killer.
‘We’re cross-checking against baptism, wedding, and death records to see if any other Kiriakes turn up.’
‘How long’s that going to take?’ Andreas’ frustration was building.
Tassos started sounding edgy. ‘Don’t know yet, but it’s the best we can do. I’m planning to be in Mykonos by noon with my men. I’m bringing with me whatever information we find by then, and any more will be faxed to your office.’
Andreas let out a breath. Tassos had to be as frustrated as he was. ‘Okay, just try not making too grand an entrance. Forty police arriving at the same time might look like an invasion.’
‘We’re coming in civilian clothes on the ferry so as not to scare the tourists. Where do you want us to meet you?’
‘I’ll have a bus pick you up at the pier.’ He thought for a second. ‘It’ll take you to the taverna we went to last night in Ano Mera. We’ll use it as headquarters.’ He ran a hand through his hair. ‘God, this is going to attract one hell of a lot of attention no matter how quiet we try to keep it.’
‘I think Mihali’s already managed to circulate our cover story to every local on the island. It’s our police doing all
it can to rescue a foreigner from possible harm. It will enhance the island’s reputation for protecting tourists.’ Tassos spoke with the mayor’s pompous, public-speaking cadence.
Andreas smiled and hoped he wasn’t about to hear another story about farmers, foxes, and chickens. ‘Okay, I get the message. See you in five hours.’
After they hung up, Andreas decided not to confront the mayor as he’d planned. What’s the use? he thought. Each of them, in his own way, was doing the same thing – trying to keep his mind off tomorrow’s most likely ending: the deputy minister’s niece is found murdered in a bizarre ritual killing and all the world learns that for decades a serial killer has been murdering Mykonos tourists at will.
He headed back to his office, snatched a cot from a cell, and tried to catch a few hours’ sleep. After all, tonight he, too, would have neither booze nor dancing to keep him awake.
He knew it would be difficult moving her to the church with police looking everywhere for him. He also knew the sensible thing was to toss her body into the sea and walk away, but he loved his plan too much to abandon it.
Besides, he must complete the ceremony. It was not out of pride that he thought that way, nor was he seeking glory for outwitting the police – certainly not any of a public sort. It was never his desire that the world know of him or his acts. He was not like those others who seemed to crave attention and left some souvenir sign or public message announcing each death. He found all the reward he needed in the many quiet moments he shared with his tributes within the solitude of these walls. No, he must complete the ceremony to honor those who protected him for so long in this foreign place and allowed him all those private moments. Moments like this.
He reached into the bag and pulled out what he needed. With a pencil he carefully drew dark brown eyebrows over the light ones he’d shaved away. Then he dressed her in a loose-fitting, light gray, cotton beach dress. Finally, he lifted her bald head and pulled on a long, dark brown wig. He noticed she was breathing lightly. Good, he thought: she’ll make it to the church. He picked up his bag and left to find what he’d need to move her.
This time he locked the door behind him – just in case.
18
Andreas had slept longer than he intended. It was almost ten. There was a note on his desk from Kouros. Considerate of the kid not to have awakened him, he thought. He read the note: ‘Panos never showed up at his restaurant last night. The artist Daly was there for a while but left before we got there. Neither man returned home.’ Considerate my ass, Andreas realized, he didn’t want to tell me in person.
He tossed the note onto his desk and called Pappas. He’d kept his word; the new men had been searching since eight but only enough had shown up to form groups of three. Guess the mayor is losing supporters, thought Andreas. They’d gone in through three entrances on hillsides overlooking the priest’s beach and one by a cove just north of it. Pappas said the tunnels ran west through the base of the hills before turning south toward Ano Mera. He said he picked those tunnels because they connected with ones running toward the artist’s and Panos’ places. Andreas could see his grin through the phone. The shark was still hunting.
Andreas kept his cool. ‘Let’s pray you guessed right.’
‘They’re moving a lot faster now,’ Pappas reported. ‘The tunnels last night were some of the oldest and haven’t been worked for forty years or so. The men had to be very careful. The ones they’re in now were used until about twenty-five years ago. If she’s in one, we should know in a few hours.’
‘What’s a few hours?’ Andreas didn’t want to get his hopes up.
‘By this afternoon.’
‘Early or late?’
‘Late.’
Andreas thought, if she’s in there and he doesn’t move her before sunset, at least we have a chance. Once he moves her, all we can hope for is that he sticks to his routine. But he’s too smart not to change it. By now every local knows we’re searching the mines, so chances are he knows we’re looking for him – and that we must know his tactics. But what will he change? What’s he thinking – that ‘sick bastard,’ he said aloud.
‘What did you say?’ Pappas sounded angry.
Andreas had been so lost in his own thoughts he was surprised to hear Pappas’ voice. ‘Huh?’ Then he laughed. ‘No, no, not you. I was thinking of the bastard who has her.’
Pappas grumbled, ‘Just don’t forget how much you owe me for this.’
‘Of course I won’t.’ Andreas was back to stroking him. ‘Please let me know as soon as there’s any news – and, again, thanks. We couldn’t have done this without you.’ He hung up, indulged himself with five seconds of dwelling on how much that guy grated on him – despite all his help – and went back to thinking how the killer would try to cross them up.
The only shot they had was if the killer stuck to suffocating his victims in a church on its name day. But maybe he’d bury her – or already has buried her – with enough air to survive until after midnight. He shook his head. Time for coffee.
He got a cup of coffee and brought it back to his office, then sat behind his desk staring out the window and thinking. It was at times like this he wished he had a view of the sea, but land with that kind of view was too valuable for housing cops. No money, no respect, no views. No wonder cops go bad. He thought of his dad. No, he never went bad; maybe that’s why he died young – he was too good. He shook his head. ‘Stop this foolish, stupid thinking.’ He’d said the words aloud.
Andreas turned his thoughts back to Annika Vanden Haag. If we don’t find her in the mines, all we’re left with is the churches. And if he’s already buried her in one of them . . . he let out a deep breath. We have no choice; as soon as Tassos gets to Ano Mera we’ll have to send men out to search the churches. My God, I can’t believe we’re going to be opening every burial crypt in every Saint Kiriake on Mykonos in the middle of preparations for tonight’s panegyris.
He dropped his forehead into his hands. Andreas could just hear the screaming priests and families. This was going to be one giant public-relations nightmare. Time to get His Honor the mayor back in the fun.
Andreas enjoyed watching the slight twitching at the outside corner of the mayor’s right eye expand across his eyebrow as Andreas explained what he intended to do. ‘With any luck we’ll find her before dark,’ he said trying to sound enthusiastic.
The mayor spoke in a measured tone. ‘Don’t you think your plan is a bit too aggressive? Watching churches is one thing, but opening tombs is . . .’ He searched for the words. ‘Quite a different matter.’
Andreas took the formality of the phrase to mean ‘insane.’ ‘We don’t have a choice. We can’t take the chance he’s already buried her alive in one of them.’
‘But how do we know? She could be anywhere.’ His voice cracked.
‘Could be, but the churches are our best guess, and if she’s in one and we don’t check . . .’ He paused. ‘I don’t have to tell you what that means.’
The mayor stared at him. ‘No, you don’t have to remind me.’ He got up from behind his desk, walked to the window, and stared out.
He has a view of the sea, Andreas thought.
Still staring out the window, the mayor said, ‘There’s no way he could bury her in a busy church during preparations for a panegyri. There are too many people around.’ He turned to face Andreas. ‘Why not do a thorough examination of the busy ones for anything unusual and save your digging for the less public ones? After all, isn’t that where he’s likely to take her?’
The mayor was doing his political thing – looking for compromise – and his approach would attract a lot less attention and aggravation, but Andreas nodded no. ‘I understand where you’re coming from – I had the same thought – but we can’t risk it. This killer’s smart enough to have figured some way of getting her into any church he wants, no matter how many people are around. We can’t forget that he’s probably been studying our churches for years with just this sort
of thing in mind.’
‘That’s my churches, Chief.’ His fangs were showing. ‘I’m the one who has to live here after you’ve desecrated who knows how many final resting places of our citizens’ ancestors.’
Andreas let him vent. He knew the mayor had no choice but to go along with him. This was nothing more than Andreas giving him the chance to put his best political spin on the search.
The mayor let out a breath and walked back to his desk. ‘Let me speak to the archbishop. I think I can get him to cooperate as long as it’s clear there’s only going to be a quick look under floor slabs and no one’s planning on knocking down any walls looking for her in a wall crypt.’
‘Unless there’s a sign of fresh cement on a wall, I can go along with that,’ said Andreas. It was a minor compromise, one to let Mihali save face.
‘Fine, just don’t start digging before I speak to him. Give me an hour.’
Andreas looked at his watch. It was almost noon. Time to meet Tassos. ‘Okay, one hour.’
That seemed to satisfy the mayor’s deal-making nature. ‘By the way, I got a call from a friend of Ilias’ who wondered if I knew where he was. He said Ilias borrowed his boat a couple days ago and hasn’t returned it. I guess that means he could be anywhere.’
Yeah, him and everyone else, thought Andreas.
It was a small yellow motorbike. One of thousands that seemed to sprout everywhere during the tourist season and contributed greatly to the orthopedic practices of the island’s doctors. Tourists who rented them seemed to share hallucinogenic visions of invulnerability to injury and drove more wildly than they would ever think of doing at home. He’d found this one about a quarter of a mile from the mine entrance, not far from where his own motorbike was hidden in the brush. The key was still in it. He listened for sounds but heard none. He scanned the hills above and below the road for movement. Again, there was none. Whoever left it wasn’t nearby – or was being very quiet. He listened longer. Still no sound.
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