Santorini Caesars

by Jeffrey Siger

  “It’s the only way to be on this island. Look out for yourself, because everyone else is.”

  Petro nodded. “Yep. Sure is.”

  “You still haven’t answered my question, what do you think of the place?”

  He forced a nervous smile. “I don’t know the business.”

  Sappho nodded. “So you don’t like it?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “You didn’t have to.

  “Okay, it’s a bit too much over the top for my tastes. I like my Greek island places to look like Greek islands.”

  “Fair enough. I can assure you it won’t be called ‘Miami’ if I get the place. The over-the-top glitzy touches will be gone, but the bones will remain because the island’s attracting a lot of Chinese, Russians, and Indians, and those of them with money love that sort of glamour.”

  Petro smiled. “As I said, I don’t know the business.”

  Sappho caught his eye. “Would you like to learn?”

  Petro looked away.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be so pushy. Damn it, I’m always chasing away the men I like.”

  “Is that why the island’s so empty?”

  She poked her finger in his chest. “Don’t push it, wise guy, or I might withdraw the offer.”

  “I already have a job.”

  “Please. Don’t tell me you’re in the hotel business. You know about as much about that as I do about brain surgery. Sure, you can try to make some money putting people together in the business, but you’re not a hotelier. And I doubt you ever will be. That’s not your skill set.”

  “So, what is my skill set?”

  “I’d prefer we not get into that here, as there’s no telling who might walk in on us.”

  Petro grinned. “Follow me.”

  Sappho grabbed her purse off a counter top. “This should be interesting.”

  He walked into to the dining room, and took down a table and two chairs from under the plastic.

  “Sit, please.”

  Sappho put her handbag on the table and sat down staring at him grim-faced. “Is this the part where you tell me you really do have a wife?”

  “That would be easy.” He sat down and faced her head-on.

  “Don’t tell me you’re gay. I won’t believe you.”

  Petro drew in and let out a deep breath. “I’m a cop.”

  “Please, tell me you’re gay. Anything but a cop.”

  Petro blinked. “That’s all you have to say?”

  “Darling, I knew you weren’t what you said, and that you were into something suspicious. I just hoped it wasn’t something bad. Now you turn out to be a cop. So much for my hopes.” She smiled and reached out for his hand. “Let’s get to the part where you tell me you’re sworn to secrecy and can’t tell me any more.”

  “You’re watching too many movies.”

  “Because I haven’t had anyone to keep me company for quite a while.”

  Petro looked down and squeezed her hand. “As a matter of fact, not only can I tell you what I’m doing, I need to ask for your help.” He looked straight at her. “Which I know sounds right out of a movie.”

  “Any number of bad ones.”

  “This one could get particularly bad.”

  “Uh, do you happen to have any identification you could show me?”

  He looked at her for a long moment. “Yeah, sure.” He reached for his wallet and pulled out his ID card.

  “I thought you guys carried them around your neck…under your shirt.” She looked at it, then at him, straight-faced. “Okay.”

  “Do you want to hear the rest?”

  “Why not? Break my heart completely.”

  She leaned back in her chair, pulling her hand away from him as she did, and crossing her arms.

  Petro swallowed. “I was assigned here to supervise an operation intended to determine if there was a military plot against the government. Just by coincidence, the targets of our surveillance decided on meeting in your restaurant.”

  “So, you spied on our customers?”

  “Yes.”

  Sappho shifted in her seat. “Using me for access.”

  “I didn’t think of it that way.”

  “I bet you didn’t.”

  “This isn’t easy,” said Petro.

  “I’m certain not nearly as easy as I was.”

  Petro raised his hands. “Stop. There’s no reason to go that way with this. I’m here because I want to be with you.”

  “No, you’re here because you need my help. You just admitted that.”

  Petro rubbed at his eyes. “Do you really want to believe that?”

  She jumped to her feet. “No, I definitely don’t want to believe that. But what else can I believe?”

  “Let’s not turn this into some very bad movie dialogue.”

  “It can get worse?”

  “I’m going to tell you what I know and what I need to know from you, and after I do, if you still believe I’m here just to use you, you’ll be in a position to do me some very serious harm. In other words, I’m prepared to trust you with my career.”

  Sappho walked around in a twenty-step circle three times before stopping abruptly in front of him. “Fine, tell me.”

  “Sit down, please.” He pointed at the chair and waited until she sat.

  “We believe there may be a plot to assassinate the Prime Minister.”

  She stared at him for ten seconds. “Let me see that ID again.”

  He reached for his wallet.

  She raised her hand. “No, that was just my way of saying to myself you must be insane.”

  “I wish I were.”

  “Who do you think is trying to kill him?”

  “Not sure, but we think it involves that civilian who turned up late at the military dinner in your restaurant.”

  “Him? Hard to imagine. I thought he was a friend of the Prime Minister.”

  Petro shrugged. “What can I say?”

  “No need to say anything. Cain and Abel says it all.” She sighed. “So what do you want from me?”

  “Two things. First, we need to know when the mayor invited the Prime Minister to participate in the tree-lighting ceremony tomorrow night, and what part the Prime Minister’s slick friend played in that invitation.”

  “No problem, I’ll call Nikolaos right away.”

  “Nikolaos?”

  “He’s Santorini’s mayor.”

  “Oh.”

  “That’s the benefit of having a local girl as your operative. So what else do you need to know?”

  “Where would you pick as the best place on Santorini for an assassination if you wanted to make it look like a Greek military conspiracy?”

  “I see we’re done with the easy questions.”

  “Any ideas?”

  “Assuming the Prime Minister uses the military’s part of the airport, that’s a possibility.”

  “Yes, but it’s controlled by the military, so that would make it hard to pull off unless the military actually is involved. We’re looking for a place that will make it seem like the military’s behind it, even though it’s not.”

  She shrugged. “Sorry, but I’m in the restaurant business, not the cloak and dagger. I can’t think of anything else.”

  Petro nodded. “Okay, so tell me about the top of Pyrgos where the tree-lighting ceremony will take place.”

  “What’s there to tell? It’s set up next to what’s left of the old castle. The villages of Skaros, Emborio, Oia, Akrotiri, and Pyrgos all have ancient castle ruins, but even the best-preserved suffered severe damage in the earthquake of 1956. They’re made of volcanic rock and pumice mortar, the same as virtually everything else on this island. I think they date back to the Middle Ages.”

  “Any m
ilitary significance?”

  “Today? Not that I know of.”

  Petro sighed. “That’s it?”

  “As I said, this sort of thing isn’t my bag.”

  Petro stared at her without saying a word.

  Sappho stared back.

  “So?” said Petro.

  “I assume ‘so’ is your way of asking whether I believe you?”

  Petro nodded.

  She shrugged again. “I don’t think it really matters at this moment. Unless you’re a lunatic or serial killer who’s come here to have your way with me, something very serious could go down on Santorini in the next twenty-four hours or so.”

  “Yes, it could.”

  “So, whether or not I ever want to see you again, if what you said has even the slightest bit of possible truth to it, an assassination of our Prime Minister on Santorini would be very bad PR for our business. And, after all, above all else I am a ‘hard-nosed businesswoman.’” Sappho emphasized her words with finger quotes.

  Petro nodded. “I deserved that.”

  “No, you deserve a lot more, or a lot less, but that’s for me to decide when my mind’s in a different place.”

  “Fair enough.”

  She pulled out her phone and punched in a number. “Time to call the mayor. By the way, since I’m doing all this secret agent stuff do I at least get a code name or something?”

  Petro’s face turned deadly serious. “Absolutely. Would you prefer Crockett or Tubbs?

  “Huh?”

  “Miami?” Petro waved his hands in a broad gesture around the room. “Miami Vice?”

  She wrinkled her forehead and gave him a blank stare.

  “An old American cop show. Crockett and Tubbs are the lead cops.”

  Sappho rolled her eyes. “You know, up to this point I thought we at least had a sense of humor in common.” She pressed buttons on her phone. “Another disappointment.”

  ***

  Andreas recognized the caller ID coming through on his office line as Petro’s, and picked up before Maggie could answer. “I hope you’re calling with good news.”

  “All I can say is I’m calling with answers.”

  “That’ll work.”

  “My friend spoke to the mayor and he told her that an invitation to the Prime Minister to attend the tree-lighting ceremony went out a month ago.”

  “A month ago? Dammit. So much for my theory. I’d have bet just about anything that Prada somehow was behind getting the PM his invitation after Prada had been invited to dinner with the Caesars. We’re back to square one.”

  “Not so fast, Chief. You’d have won your bet.”

  “But the invitation was a month ago and Prada was invited to dinner with the Caesars two Fridays ago.”

  “Yes, but guess when the Prime Minister accepted the invitation.”

  Andreas sat bolt upright in his chair. “I almost wish you’re not about to tell me what I know you’re going to tell me.”

  “Yep, two Fridays ago.”

  “My God, it is an assassination plot.”

  “The mayor said he’d been pushing the Prime Minister to come but was getting nowhere. Then out of the blue Prada called him that Friday to say the PM would love to come, but he needed to know the precise details of when and where he was expected to be on the island.”

  Andreas felt goose bumps running up his arm. “Did your friend get the details?”

  “My friend’s very good. She dragged everything out of him with promises of a big dinner at her restaurant.”

  “Is she with you now?”

  “Yes.”

  “Let me speak to her.”

  “Chief—”

  “Don’t worry, just put her on the phone.”

  Andreas heard a muffled back and forth.”

  “Hello?”

  “Is this Sappho?”

  “Yes, and how did you know my name?”

  “I’m Chief of Special Crimes. I’m supposed to know those sorts of things. But in case you’re wondering, Petro didn’t tell me. He’s been very protective of you. Even fought with me over getting you involved in this. I want to thank you for making me look good in front of him. Your help’s been invaluable and proven me right.”

  “Anything I can do to make him look bad is fine with me.”

  Andreas stifled a laugh. “Well, as I said, you’ve been a very big help to me, if that helps you any.”

  “I just wish I could have got you a better line on where the attempt might take place. All the mayor could tell me was that it’s going to be a quick in and out trip. Straight from the airport to Pyrgos for the ceremony, and immediately back to the airport.”

  “How are they getting from the bottom of Pyrgos to the top?”

  “The mayor didn’t know, but my guess is our Prime Minister would like to be seen as a vigorous young leader and will likely hike up the hill through the village streets greeting everyone who comes out to see him along the way.”

  Andreas nodded at the phone. “I’m sorry to say that sounds about right.” He paused. “That’s all very helpful, thank you, but the primary reason I wanted to speak to you was to tell you that you’ve done a great service for your country.”

  Pause.

  “Did you hear me?”

  “Uh, yes, but do you mind if I call you back?”

  “Call me back?”

  “Yes. You see, Petro placed this call and for all I know—”

  Andreas burst out laughing. “I get it, you want to make sure I’m who I say I am. I wish everyone were as cautious as you. Sure, feel free, but I won’t give you my number. That would defeat the purpose. May I speak to Petro again?”

  Pause.

  “Yes, Chief.”

  “She’s a winner.”

  “I know.”

  Andreas swallowed. “We’ve got a serious problem. I’ve no doubt there’ll be an attempt on the PM’s life, and most likely in Pyrgos. I want you up there right away. Check to see if anything strikes you as unusual, different, or out of line.”

  “It’ll be dark by the time I get there.”

  “Trust me, whoever plans on assassinating our Prime Minister will be working through the night.”

  “That’s not what I meant.” There was a slight bristle to Petro’s voice. “I’ve never been to Pyrgos. I have no idea what’s ‘unusual, different, or out of line.’”

  “So, find a local you can trust to help you. And let me know when you get there. Any questions?”

  Pause. “No.”

  “Good. And you’re doing great work. Keep it up.”

  “I’ll try my best. Bye.”

  Andreas put down the phone. He knew he’d been tough on the kid, so much so that had his conversation with Petro been face-to-face he might have had to duck a few times. His efforts to do some repair work on the inevitable damage his demands surely wreaked on Petro’s relationship with Sappho probably wouldn’t help much, but the bottom line was Andreas had no choice. The Prime Minister’s life was on the line.

  Everyone else’s life would just have to wait.

  ***

  Petro put his phone back in his pocket and rubbed at his chin.

  “Are you thinking of an appropriate thing to say?”

  “More like how do I tell you that I have to leave?”

  “I heard. For Pyrgos.”

  He nodded. “Not sure what I’m looking for, but I’ve got to start on it right away.”

  “Is it dangerous?”

  “Could be. The chief wants me looking for anything abnormal, but if there really is a plot to assassinate the Prime Minister tomorrow, the bad guys must be up there making sure everything looks just the opposite. My wandering around on a rainy night might just be the bit of abnormal that tips them off, and who knows how they’ll react
to that?”

  “I think you need a local to give you cover.”

  “The chief said sort of the same thing.”

  “Which reminds me. I’m debating whether I should call to verify if he’s who you said he is.”

  Petro waved a hand in the air. “Go ahead, knock yourself out. They’re your message units.”

  “Okay, I’ve made up my mind.” Sappho lifted her purse off the table as she stood up. “Let’s go,” and headed toward the door.

  “Go where?”

  “To Pyrgos.”

  “You’re not coming with me. I just said it could be dangerous.”

  She stopped and turned around. “What other local can you call for help who you can trust with what you’re up to? Do you even know another local?”

  Petro looked at his feet.

  “Besides, I like your boss. He actually tried to make you sound as if you cared for me.”

  “I do.”

  She waved one hand in the air. “Enough already with the kamaki lines.”

  “Whoa, I’m not a kamaki.”

  “As I understand the meaning of kamaki, and I’m not talking about the little trident that fishermen use to spear the innocent octopus, any man who does whatever it takes to seduce the woman of his interest at the moment is a kamaki.”

  Petro shut his eyes.

  “Counting to ten are we?”

  “Don’t you ever let up?”

  “I will once we get to work. I don’t want our Prime Minister assassinated, and as I said before, certainly not on Santorini.”

  Petro set his jaw. “You’ll have to do whatever I say.”

  “Don’t I always?” Sappho fluttered her eyelashes.

  Petro rubbed at his eyes with his fingertips and shook his head. “Why do I just know I’m going to regret this?”

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Andreas told Yianni to pick him up at home the next morning in time for them to make the first flight out of Venizelos International Airport to Santorini. He’d decided against requisitioning ministry aircraft for the trip as that presented too big a risk of word getting back to Prada. No way he’d see Andreas flying to Santorini that morning as anything other than a warning to call off whatever was on for that night.

  Now came the most dangerous part of his plan: telling his more than eight-months-pregnant wife that he was leaving town. He wasn’t looking forward to what he expected to follow her inevitable words, “For how long?” so he made a tactical decision to stop along the way for flowers.