A Deadly Twist

by Jeffrey Siger

  “What is it?”

  “Three men are surrounding our umbrellas, and Maggie’s standing between them and Tassos.”

  “Is something wrong?”

  “I don’t know, but I’ll meet you there.” Andreas jumped into the brush, slipping and sliding along the rocks until he’d made it down to the beach. He kicked off his sandals and broke into a trot, aimed straight for his friends and some very loud music. The closer he came, the louder the music. He watched one of the men grab Tassos’s umbrella and throw it toward the sea.

  “Whoa, there,” yelled Andreas. “Let’s calm things down, fellas.”

  The man who tossed the umbrella responded in English. “Fuck off, mate, unless you want some of what this old asshole’s gonna get.” The man stood about as tall as Andreas and had the bull-like build of Yianni.

  Andreas changed course to pick up the umbrella, saying in English as he did, “You’re obviously not from around these parts, but that’s not the way we talk to strangers in Greece.” He collapsed the umbrella and wrapped it tightly shut as he walked toward the men.

  “I said fuck off.” The man pointed to his two friends, each the size of a professional rugby player. “Take care of him. I’ll take care of the old fart and his pig of a woman.”

  Maggie swung around to face Tassos, saying in Greek, “Don’t you dare let him goad you into a fight.”

  “Yeah,” said Andreas, in English, “give me a chance to reason with these fellas.” He stopped five meters from the men. “Why don’t you go back to your blanket and sleep off whatever has you all fired up? Honest, that’s a much better choice than what you’ll face if you insist on taking this route.”

  “I said, take care of him,” growled the man. “Do it now.”

  “Oh, so you’re in charge. Just for the record, permit me to explain whom you and your friends are about to assault. We’re both Greek policemen, so no matter how what you have in mind turns out, you and your buddies are in for a mass of hurt.”

  “Cops? I love beating up cops.”

  “Nah, be honest, you like your buddies to beat up cops. You only have the balls to go after old men and women, and only then when you’re drunk enough to think you have the courage. Like now. You’re a…uh what’s the word?” He looked at Maggie.

  “Pussy.”

  The leader swung around toward Maggie.

  “Hey!” Andreas put a little heat into his voice to catch the guy’s attention. “Like I said, no balls, only guts when you’re high enough to go after easy targets. Why don’t you try me, asshole?”

  The leader paused for an instant to look at his friends, then charged at Andreas as if headed into a scrum, arms spread wide and eyes glaring. A pace before the raging man reached him, Andreas slipped to the man’s right, causing the man to stumble and giving Andreas the opportunity to drive the pointed end of the umbrella into the side of the man’s right knee, sending him crumpling to the sand. The man clutched his leg and howled, just as Andreas delivered another pointed shot to the man’s left shin, followed by a haymaker from the umbrella’s blunt end to the man’s jaw.

  Andreas stepped back. “Are we done yet?”

  The man growled and lurched along the sand toward Andreas.

  “Not yet, huh? Well, have it your way.” Andreas stepped back as the man tried to get up. Andreas stepped forward with his left foot, as he brought his right foot forward and up in a fierce pendulum shot of a kick to the man’s balls.

  As the man lay writhing on the ground, Andreas turned to his mates. “Here in Greece we prefer football, though you might call it soccer. Now, would you two mind removing your buddy from our area of the beach?” The two men looked at each other and charged at Andreas. He stepped back and braced for their attack.

  CRACK!

  The sound echoed across the beach, stopping the two men in their tracks.

  “Okay, assholes, I’ve had all that I can take from your loud-ass music and bullshit machismo.” Tassos stood with his gun aimed at the chest of the bigger of the two men. “If you aren’t off this beach with your hurt buddy in two minutes, I’m going to start taking target practice at your kneecaps.”

  The men stood frozen in place.

  “I said move.” Tassos fired another round at their feet.

  One tossed everything of theirs into a blanket and ran with it Santa Claus-style toward the parking area while the other helped their staggering leader struggle along after.

  Andreas watched to make sure they’d left before turning to Tassos.

  “That was a highly inappropriate use of a firearm.”

  “Yeah, tell me about it.”

  Maggie said, “I wondered why you seemed so calm when they threatened you for asking them to turn down their music. For a moment, I thought you’d forgotten your English.”

  “Yeah, I should have shot their music box instead. That would have ended the confrontation right there.”

  “I remember the days when you wouldn’t have needed the gun to take care of those three,” said Andreas.

  “So do I, but times change.”

  Andreas nodded. “They sure do. And by the way, why didn’t you pull your pistol and put an end to it all before I had to fight the guy?”

  “I figured he needed his ass kicked and you needed some practice.”

  Andreas shook his head. “Those three weren’t the only assholes on this beach today.”

  “Yeah, it was their bad luck we all happened to end up in the same place on the same day.”

  Same place, same day. Andreas froze. “That can’t be.”

  “What can’t be?” said Tassos.

  “That dead Greek-American, Zagori. He couldn’t have been in the bar the night Nikoletta met the hacker. He wasn’t even in Greece until days later!”

  “Maybe it’s just a coincidence the two men resembled each other?” said Maggie.

  “We hate coincidences,” said Andreas.

  “But this time, maybe it is?” said Tassos.

  “Meaning that lead’s a dead end. Damn it.”

  “Is everything all right?” shouted Lila running toward them. “I heard shots and saw three men hurrying off like fleeing thieves.”

  “It was just another drunken tourist episode,” said Tassos.

  “Yep,” said Andreas. “The kind that comes to our country on holiday thinking they can do anything they want, and too many of us let them do just that.” He nodded toward Tassos. “Unluckily for those three, Tassos isn’t one of them.”

  “All this excitement has me hungry,” said Maggie. “What do you say we get something to eat?”

  “Good idea,” said Lila.

  “Just one question,” said Maggie, looking at Andreas. “What was that bit about old men and women?”

  He smiled. “I just used that for dramatic effect.”

  “I would certainly hope, because I was a pretty good footballer myself.”

  “That’s good to know. I’ll keep it in mind.”

  Tassos nodded. “I also learned something today,”

  “What’s that?”

  “Always bring an umbrella to the beach.”

  Chapter Twelve

  After leaving the beach, they followed the highway north toward Chora. A few minutes later they entered the area of Kastraki, passing between fields of hay, olives, and pasture, all bordered in the distance by clusters of modern white villas. Beyond a row of beach pines, Andreas turned right into a dusty parking lot and stopped beside a pale ochre roadhouse cloistered by olive, fig, apricot, and pomegranate, well-tended gardens, and a veranda draped in bougainvillea, hibiscus, and grape.

  “What’s this place?” asked Lila.

  “Tassos’s friend said it might be the best taverna in the Cyclades.”

  “It’s where our meeting is set for tomorrow,” said Tassos. “I figured since
we’re in the area, why not take a peek at it?”

  “As long as the food is good, I don’t care about your ulterior motives,” said Lila, opening her rear door and sliding out.

  “Ditto on that,” said Maggie, getting out the other side.

  Andreas looked at Tassos. “Hardly a serious wisecrack from the crew in the back. I guess they really are hungry.”

  “They’re not alone in that. And that’s not a coincidence; it’s a fact.”

  Andreas shook his head. “I still can’t believe a Zagori look-alike was in that bar nights before the real Zagori arrived on Naxos.”

  “I admit it’s freaky. But what other explanation is there other than coincidence?”

  “That’s what I’m asking you.”

  “Perhaps lunch will inspire me.”

  They caught up with Lila and Maggie waiting just inside the entrance to a large empty room next to an open kitchen. A bearded young man said hello and led them out onto an even larger L-shaped veranda where diners happily chatted away at traditional taverna chairs and tables painted terracotta and olive.

  “I think I’m going to like this place.” Lila pointed to a small ceramic tile depicting a fish and olives mounted onto a concrete pillar supporting the veranda’s beam and double-slatted roof. “I love the little touches.”

  “Yeah, I was thinking the same thing,” said Tassos.

  Maggie poked him. “Nobody likes a smart-ass.”

  “That’s okay,” said Lila. “We know he’s only trying to hide his sensitive side.”

  The young man showed them to a corner table on the side of the veranda farthest from the road.

  “I suspect that big room next to the kitchen is for use in the winter,” said Lila.

  Tassos nodded. “A lot of tavernas are like that. Summers, everyone wants to sit outside, winters it’s back inside.”

  They ordered off the menu and from a wall-mounted chalkboard listing specials, each picking a dish for the table to share. As courses like mussels in wine, grilled figs with local cheese, deep-fried little fishes, and sardines stuffed with capers and cherry tomatoes drew praises of “best ever,” “fantastic,” and “amazing,” they expanded their order to mackerel and fava, shrimps in lemon, rabbit in tomato, oven-cooked chicken with potatoes, and a few repeats. All accompanied by the house’s homemade wine.

  At the end of the meal, after the plates had been cleared and desserts refused amid myriad I-must-watch-my-waistline excuses, a man in his late thirties came to their table carrying a tray filled with fruits.

  “These are from our garden. Compliments of the house.”

  “Thank you,” said Andreas. “This had to be one of our best meals ever. Our compliments to the chef.”

  The man nodded. “I thank you. Praise like that is what keeps me cooking.”

  “You’re the chef?” said Lila.

  “Yes and an owner.”

  Lila smiled. “I agree; it was a wonderful meal.”

  Chef nodded. “Thank you, keria.”

  “May I ask you to sit with us for a moment?” said Andreas.

  Chef looked around the room. “For a minute, I can.” He pulled up a chair and sat next to Andreas.

  “Since we’re talking, I thought I should introduce myself so that tomorrow you don’t wonder why I hadn’t.”

  “Tomorrow?”

  Andreas extended his hand. “My name is Andreas Kaldis. I’m chief of GADA’s Special Crimes Unit. We’re part of that meeting taking place here tomorrow at three, but I want to assure you our reason for being here today has absolutely nothing to do with any of that. We’re here solely because of the food. We kept hearing this is the best taverna on the island, so after swimming at Alyko Beach, we decided to come here.”

  Chef nodded thanks to everyone at the table. “Now, it’s my turn to compliment you on your choice of Alyko. It’s my favorite beach. Let’s hope it doesn’t change.”

  “We all agree with that,” said Lila.

  “I assume you saw what remains of the Junta’s abandoned hotel project?”

  “Yes,” said Andreas.

  “It’s a tragedy what we Greeks do with God’s gifts of natural beauty.”

  “My thoughts exactly,” said Lila.

  “Thankfully, the courts stopped it from going forward,” said Andreas.

  Chef winced. “For now.”

  “What do you mean?” said Andreas. “Didn’t the Supreme Court decide it was government land and couldn’t be built upon?”

  “I’m sure you know better than I that nothing is certain these days. With our government desperate for money, there’s no telling what might happen if the right deep-pockets foreign investor decides to offer an extravagant sum in exchange for permission to build there.”

  Maggie crossed herself. “I pray not.”

  Andreas leaned forward. “Is there any talk of such a deal in the works?”

  “Not that I know of, but those who’d like to make it happen aren’t likely to let me in on their plans.”

  “The whole project would have to be demolished, from the ground up,” said Andreas. “Correction, make that from below ground up. Its concrete base is collapsing.”

  Chef nodded. “Every once in a while a herder complains to me of a goat falling into one of those holes. They’re deep. Much deeper than you’d think necessary for a hotel project.”

  “I wouldn’t know,” said Andreas, “but hotels put a lot of their support services underground.”

  “Not sure how much of that they did back in the early 1970s,” said Chef, “but if you ask the locals, they’re convinced all that concrete covered open space was just that, a cover for smugglers digging for antiquities deep below the surface.”

  Andreas glanced at Tassos. “Yes, I’ve heard those rumors. Do you think they’re true?”

  He smiled. “You’re a police officer. If I started talking to you about the number of locals and others who have personal collections of artifacts found around that hotel site, you’d be duty-bound to send the minister of culture a memo, which, if I were lucky, would only get me disowned by my family and run off the island.”

  Andreas patted Chef on the shoulder. “I understand, but don’t worry, there will be no such memo.”

  A bearded younger man came to the table. “Excuse me, but they need you in the kitchen.”

  Chef stood and Andreas quickly did the same.

  “Thank you for a wonderful meal.”

  “You’re welcome. See you tomorrow.”

  “For sure.”

  Andreas sat down and watched the man walk back to the kitchen. “What do you think, Tassos?”

  “I think he’s telling the truth.”

  “I meant about someone resurrecting the hotel project.”

  “I agree with him. There’s no telling what might happen in this economy. But it would be interesting to know if anyone’s expressed an interest in reviving the project.”

  “I’ll ask my father,” said Lila. “Perhaps he knows or knows someone who would.”

  “Any excuse to call home to speak to the kids,” said a slightly tipsy Maggie.

  Lila laughed. “No guilt feelings here. I’m sure they don’t even realize we’re gone.”

  “Besides,” said Andreas, “it leaves my lovely wife more time to have me all to herself.”

  Lila pulled her phone out of her bag and hit a speed dial button. “Be still my heart.”

  “I see the wisecracks are back,” said Andreas.

  “Just in time for the trip back home,” said Tassos.

  “Lucky us.”

  * * *

  By the time Lila and Andreas finished checking in on the children and explained to Lila’s father what Andreas wanted to know about the hotel project, they were back on the road heading home, and the sky had taken on the distinc
t burnt-orange tones of another magnificent sunset.

  “We should bring the kids here,” said Andreas.

  “After spending this weekend with my parents, who no doubt will spoil them rotten, I think it’s safe to say we’ll have been knocked out of first place on their preferred holiday escorts list.”

  “Grandparents have a knack for doing that,” said Andreas.

  “Especially with your mother joining in on triple-teaming us,” said Lila.

  “God bless them all,” said Maggie, crossing herself.

  “I wonder how Yianni’s doing,” said Tassos.

  “Toni texted me that everything’s looking good,” said Lila. “They might release him as early as tomorrow morning.”

  Maggie crossed herself again.

  “What about Popi?” said Andreas.

  “No word yet, other than hopeful.”

  Andreas exhaled. “Bastards.”

  Ring.

  “That’s mine,” said Lila. “It’s my father.”

  “Hi, Dad.”

  Pause.

  “I’d put you on speaker but the reception’s a bit sketchy here, and Andreas is driving, so tell me what you have for him and I’ll pass it on.”

  She listened intently for several minutes.

  “Thanks, Dad. Love you too.”

  Lila put her phone back in her bag. “He said you can call him later if you like, but here’s what he’s learned. Years after the Belgian entity that owned the project declared bankruptcy, a Lichtenstein company claimed ownership of the Belgian’s shares and the right to continue the project. The person behind that claim was a Greek shipowner known to my father. He got tied up in court for years on any number of grounds and ultimately got nowhere with it. My father has no doubt that if someone offered him the right deal in cash, a partnership, or some combination thereof, he’d take it in a heartbeat. My father also said that whoever tries to develop that site faces serious public opposition from both local and national community activists on the order of what’s stymied the redevelopment project at Athens’s old international airport.”

  “Do you mean there actually are people out there who dare distrust the intentions of our elected leaders?” smirked Tassos. “Next thing you know, they’ll be losing faith in God to deliver us from evil.”