Andreas looked at the ceiling, then back at her. “So, how did they find out?”
“How should I know. You’re the cop.”
He drummed his fingers on the table.
She started talking. “There are a dozen possible ways. A hundred. I found out by speaking to his hairdresser. Who knows what Christos might have said to someone after our phone call? He chit-chats with practically everyone who is anyone in Athens. But forget about him, what was Kostopoulos doing on Mykonos? Hiding in some cave?”
Andreas paused. “No, not in a cave. You know he was in his home.”
“Brilliant. Last place anyone would think to look for him. At home. And I bet he’s kept a low profile, nothing to attract attention from anyone happening to pass by his place.”
Andreas thought of the Hummers and the major. “But it’s not a place where people just happen by. You don’t even see his house until you’re on his property.”
“Even from the sea, by a fisherman?”
Andreas shrugged.
“What about gardeners, delivery men?”
Andreas shrugged again.
“And his household staff? I can’t imagine him without at least a half-dozen. And all of them talk about their employers. It’s part of their DNA. Finding good help these days is virtually impossible, finding help that won’t talk is impossible. There’s a pecking order among domestic help just as competitive and hierarchical as their employers’ high-society networks. Maids and cooks trying to impress each other brag as much as Athens’ most aggressive social climbers, but instead of exchanging boasts over wealth, it’s all in the confidences they have to share about their bosses.
“All it took was for one maid from his house to mention to a domestic working elsewhere that her boss, the famous Zanni Kostopoulos, was on the island, and every domestic would know. And sooner or later they’d all find some way to pass the gossip on to their employers. Just to let their bosses know how plugged-in they are to what’s going on in everyone else’s home. And how much they should be appreciated for their discretion in safeguarding their own employers’ secrets.
“Do I have to tell you how many old-line Greek families have homes and staff here on Mykonos? Any one of them could have been the source of the tip to your ‘bad guys.’” More finger quotes.
“And another thing—”
Andreas put up his hand to stop her. “No need to say more. You’ve convinced me. I’m sorry.”
She let out a breath. “But I have so much more to say.”
“I bet.” He smiled.
She smiled.
They ordered a bottle of wine and watched the sunset in silence. Both looked to need the break.
CHAPTER 17
Kouros and two cops from his GADA unit followed Demon to the Omonia metro station. They lost him in the crowd on the platform but found him at the far end, next to a pillar. Kouros didn’t realize what Demon was doing until he saw an angry look on the face of the guy standing behind him. They’d been talking. Thirty seconds later Demon was standing alone by the pillar and the guy was heading toward a train about to leave the platform.
“Stay with Demosthenes.” Kouros told the two cops and scrambled for the train. Luckily the guy was in the next car and couldn’t see Kouros struggling with the closing doors.
Two metro trains and about an hour later, Kouros and the guy were at Athens’ Venizelos International Airport. The guy walked past the ticket counter to the boarding pass checkpoint line for domestic and EU departures. Kouros stayed back, watching. After the security guard let the guy through, Kouros hustled to the head of the line and showed his badge to the guard, but the guard wouldn’t let him pass. Kouros got the attention of a supervisor when he threatened to use the guard’s laminated ID badge to slice off his nuts. By the time the supervisor realized what was going on, and let Kouros through, the guy was gone.
Kouros was about to return to the checkpoint and begin performing the promised surgery when he saw the guy looking at cell phones in a shop across from a coffee bar kiosk. Kouros sat at the bar with his back to him. He kept an eye on the guy by watching his reflection in shop windows on the other side of the kiosk.
Ten minutes passed before the guy left the store. He was headed toward the departure gates. That meant metal detectors. Kouros wasn’t about to risk letting another numbnuts security guard start some commotion over all the forbidden pieces of metal he carried. He stopped two soldiers detailed to airport protection, showed his ID, and they let him into the departure gate area through a private access door.
Kouros stood by a window watching the reflections of passengers clearing security. The guy came through without a problem. He paused to look at a monitor, checked his boarding pass, walked to the gate next to where Kouros was standing, and sat down.
Kouros waited. A few minutes later the guy started talking on a cell phone. That’s when Kouros walked past him and glanced up at the monitor with flight information on that gate. The flight was to a city about as far north as you could go in Greece. That figured. By staying in Greece and not flying directly to a non-EU country he avoided the more rigorous security screenings for international flights. From northern Greece he could get over the border undetected in any number of ways. No doubt this guy was from the Balkans.
Kouros bought a bottle of water from a kiosk directly across from where the guy was sitting. With one hand he took a sip and with the other reached for his cell phone, perhaps the most common gesture in Greece, and held it up to his ear. Then he turned sideways to the guy and took a few photos. It was a YouTuber technique mastered by many cops.
Kouros found an open seat at the next gate among a crowd waiting for a delayed flight to Rhodes. He sent the photos to Maggie by MMS, along with the flight information and specific, bold face instructions: HAVE UNKNOWN SUBJECT FOLLOWED MOMENT PLANE LANDS. DO NOT INTERCEPT. MUST BE PREPARED TO CROSS BORDER. CONSIDER EXTREMELY DANGEROUS.
Kouros hung around until the guy boarded a bus taking him from the gate to the plane. Then he checked his missed calls. He hadn’t taken one since jumping on the train in Omonia. There were three from the cops following Demon.
He stood up and walked toward the exit, dialing as he did. “Angelo, what’s up?”
“Where are you?”
“At the airport.”
“We have something you’ll want to hear. The guy went straight from the metro to that girl’s apartment. Damn good idea you had putting surveillance on her place. How’d you know about her?”
That was not a question Kouros was about to answer. It was bad enough he set it up without telling Andreas. He just hoped there was nothing on the tape he’d regret. “Angelo, just play the tape.”
“Okay, here’s where the good stuff starts.”
The first voice Kouros heard was Demon’s.
“I need a telephone number for that old friend of yours, the one from Sardinia.”
On the word Sardinia Kouros reacted like a cop, not a tourist. His first thoughts weren’t of that Italian island’s modern-day reputation as paradise for tourists in love with its beauty and pace, but of a sordid and notorious decades-ago past filled with tough guys and big-time kidnapping, at ten to fifteen million euros per snatch, with victims rarely turning up alive.
“I can’t. If he ever finds out where I am…where we are…”
She’s scared of that Sardinian guy.
“But I must find him. It is very important.”
What’s important enough to get him running around Sardinian mountains looking for people dangerous enough to kill him just for asking the wrong question?
“I don’t have a number for him. I’ll have to find someone who does.”
He knows how to work her.
The next sound Kouros heard was a door opening, then closing, followed by a string of curses.
“That’s it, Yianni. Nothing else of interest, and she hasn’t called anyone since he left. But we’re on it if she does.”
“Good. Anything else o
n Demosthenes?”
“He went to some apartment we didn’t know about. We’re trying to get listening over there, but doubt it will be up for awhile.”
“Okay, text me his new address. I’ll get there as soon as I find a ride back to Athens.” He paused. “And Angelo, get a copy of the tape to Maggie. Ask her to find out what she can about the places they’re talking about and everything there might be on that Efisio character.”
“Will do. Ciao.”
“Yeah, ciao.”
Kouros wasn’t sure what was happening, but he was damn sure it wasn’t something good. He pressed a speed dial key. Time to bother the Chief.
***
Through most of the sunset Andreas thought of his father and how trust cost him his life. If his dad hadn’t trusted that government minister, he wouldn’t have been accused of taking bribes or have felt the need to save his family shame. Yes, he thought, I definitely have trust issues.
Lila was staring at a bright orange and deep blue horizon. The sun had just set. He let his mind—and eyes—wander to other things, like cleavage.
She turned to him and smiled. “Drachma for your thoughts.”
He choked. “Ahh, I was thinking of my father.”
“I bet he was a great man.”
“The best.”
“Is your mother still alive?”
“Yes.”
“Bet she misses him.”
“Every day.”
“I can understand.” She turned back to the sky.
“What was he like?” He didn’t have to say more.
“The nicest, sweetest man I ever knew.” She talked for quite a while about her husband, not of his money or accomplishments but of simple things that mattered and defined character. Lila showed such open passion in her memories of her husband that Andreas felt a tinge of jealousy. He wondered if his feelings were out of desire for the woman or envy at the man for finding a woman who loved him so unconditionally.
Suddenly, he jerked forward in his chair.
“What’s wrong?” She sounded alarmed.
He reached into his pants pocket. “Just my phone. It’s on vibrate.”
She giggled.
“Hello, Yianni? What’s up?” That was all Andreas said for five minutes, though every so often he looked over at Lila. She smiled when he did.
Kouros finished his report with, “I’m on my way to his apartment.”
Andreas checked to see if anyone could overhear. “Looks like there’s a lot going on.” Eavesdropping was a Greek national pastime. He had to be careful, even though most tables seemed filled with foreign tourists. “Our boy here is in negotiations with the bad guys. My guess is the guy from the metro is with the muscle talent up north of the border. It fits with what D said setting up the metro meeting.”
Kouros added, “The guy on the platform seemed really pissed at him.”
“And the next thing we know D’s off to the girl’s apartment, pressing hard to find fresh talent. What do you think?”
Kouros paused. “He must be pretty desperate if he’s shopping this sort of shit around to strangers.”
“My guess is there’s trouble in…” he caught himself just before saying terrorist, “paradise. Let’s see what we can come up with to make it worse. Press Maggie for anything she can find on the girl’s ex. Make sure we don’t let D out of our sight. And try to pick up whatever he says.” Andreas paused. “By the way, good thinking on covering A’s place. Thanks.” He felt relieved, no matter what the tapes picked up.
“I knew that’s what you’d want done. When will you be back?”
Andreas looked at his watch, then at Lila. “First plane in the morning. It leaves at seven. See you then.”
Andreas put the phone on the table and looked at Lila. “Get the picture?”
“Yes.” She played with her glass. “So what do we do until then?”
“Until when?”
“Seven.”
“I have some ideas.” He grinned.
She smiled and flirted back. “And what would they be?”
He pointed to a restaurant over by the windmills. “How about dinner over there?” If this were a game of chicken, Andreas just blinked.
Lila didn’t turn to look. “Nope it’s filled with Athenians dancing on tables all night and having a wonderful time. Not in the mood.”
“Okay, how about a place across from where I parked?”
“Nope.”
“I’m out of ideas.”
“Let’s find a place out of town, on a beach.”
He felt a new tingle, not from his phone, from her words. “Sure, any preference?”
“No, you pick the place. I want to see what you think I might like.”
They walked back to the car along mostly deserted lanes. Lila wanted to avoid the paparazzi perched on Mykonos’ main streets, and Andreas needed time to think, not shake more hands and resist more invitations. He was as anxious as a schoolboy on a first date with the prom queen. Where can I take her? He weeded out the obvious choices: extraordinarily expensive beach tavernas favored by many who simply wanted to show they could afford them whether or not they could, and cozier places too far out of town for what must be an early night.
He settled on a lovely taverna that sat on the beach closest to town, Megali Ammos. But as Andreas slowed down to park he recognized a group of locals walking toward the place. He preferred avoiding them and, so, kept driving. Five minutes later they were at Ornos Beach. It looked out on one of the island’s prettiest coves—and its most romantic one at night.
Andreas turned left at the beach and took the first right into a parking lot. He drove to the far right corner and parked alongside a tall bamboo windbreak. Five feet in front of the Jimny, pots of green plants and brightly colored flowers lined a two-and-a-half-foot high by four-foot-deep concrete ledge running the length of the solid white wall behind it. Everything disappeared when he turned off the headlights. It was an almost moonless night.
Andreas took her hand and led her around the windbreak to the beachfront entrance for the restaurant. He waved to the owner. He was taking to a customer and motioned for them to wait a moment. Lila turned and faced a mirror framed in an intricate mosaic pattern. His eyes fixed on her image.
“Stunning, absolutely beautiful.” Lila’s eyes met his.
“I couldn’t agree more.” He smiled.
She laughed. “Not me, the mirror. Don’t you love it?”
The owner came over and pointed to the mirror. “My wife did that. The food’s great too.” He was right, but Andreas and Lila weren’t likely to remember what they ate.
Several complementary drinks and two bottles of wine later, they were walking barefoot along the beach, shoes in hand. She reached out and took his free hand. They stopped between parallel rows of virtually invisible beach lounges and umbrellas. A couple was cuddling in the darkness several chairs away, and they didn’t want to disturb them. Although from the looks of things they were oblivious to everything but each other.
“Let’s sit over there.” Lila pointed to a lounge chair two rows back from the sea and far away from the couple.
Andreas walked to where she pointed and sat sideways on the chair. She poked him around until he looked as if he actually were lounging. Then she positioned herself between his legs, her back to his belly, using him as if he were her chair.
“Comfy?” was all Andreas could think of to say.
Lila took his hands and put them across her belly. “Very.”
They sat staring out at the sea. He didn’t speak. He figured there wasn’t much left for him to say. Lila should be able to tell what was on his mind from what was pressing up against her backside.
“I like this.” She stroked the back of his hands with her fingers.
“Me, too.”
The only light came from villas dotting the western edge of the cove, and that faded into darkness long before reaching their part of the beach. And, of course, from lights on the rig
gings and masts of ships anchored in the cove, but they offered no more than the dim glow of candles and Christmas lights.
She pressed her butt against him ever so slightly, and her nails now ran along the back of his hands. He kissed the back of her neck. She turned her head toward his, and he kissed her lightly. She twisted onto her side and pressed her nose against his. “Would you please kiss me like you mean it?”
He laughed. “Like this?” Andreas drew his hand up under the back of her blouse and pulled her toward him. As he kissed her, he moved his hand along her back. He liked the feel of her bare skin. Andreas felt her lips relax and lightly danced his tongue between them. They parted slightly and he pressed into her mouth; he pulled her closer and ran his fingertips along her spine—bare all the way.
Suddenly, he stopped. “So, how was that?” He thought it was a funny thing to do.
She was breathing too rapidly to answer, but from her expression he realized this was not a time for humor.
He kissed her again, and her mouth opened immediately. He slid his hand under the front of her blouse. She wore no bra. He pressed his hand back and forth across her chest, touching and squeezing as he did; she pushed to meet his touch. He fluttered the tips of his fingers around her nipples. Her breathing changed, her tongue pressed deeper into his mouth, and her hand groped for his groin. He gripped a nipple between his thumb and index finger, then firmly rubbed and squeezed. First one, then the other. She began to moan and he lost track of time.
Her sounds, her touch, her taste, her hand driving at his crotch had him quietly battling orgasm but when she slid her hand into his pants and grabbed him bare, Andreas whispered, “Don’t, I’ll come.”
She jerked her hand away, twisted onto her back and started undoing her jeans. He grabbed her hands.
“No, not here. Someone will see us.” He’d forgotten all about that until now.
“Then take me somewhere where they won’t.”
“I‘ll get a room.”
They made it as far as the car. She stopped him there, put a “be quiet” finger to her lips, and pointed to the ledge in front of the car.
“Are you crazy?” he whispered. Those were his words, not his thoughts.
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