Dig Two Graves: Revenge or Honor

by Nick Vellis

  “What do you see?” Ceres said.

  “Oh nothing, I was just giving you more time with your new buddy. What was that all about?”

  “What was what about?” Ceres replied, a puzzled look on his face.

  “You and the driver.”

  “Tinos Ganis, his name is Tinos, from Rhodes. He was giving me advice about seeing the city, the best way to get to the north, offering some advice, things like that. He says this hotel is overpriced, but the service and the rooms are good. He gave me his phone number. He will drive us if we need him.”

  “Well, I’m glad you got the scoop. You could have told me what you were talking about,” AJ said without trying to hide his annoyance. “I thought you might be planning to dump me.”

  “Dump you? What are you talking about? I am sorry I didn’t include you, but you don’t need to get angry. I didn’t mean to leave you out. It won’t happen again. I was just … just excited to speak my own language again.”

  “I didn’t like that ride that’s all. We should work on our communication,” AJ said, pointing back and forth between the two of them. “Shall we go in?”

  “Yes,” said Ceres as they collected their two small bags, and went in.

  A few minutes later, they entered their seventh-floor room. The hotel’s weathered, forlorn exterior had worried AJ, but the inside was a complete surprise. Their room was spacious, bright, and very clean. Wood floors throughout the suite gleamed from constant loving care. There were two double beds on opposite sides of the room, a seating area, a large bathroom with both a tub and a shower, and a massive walk-in closet. Large floor-to-ceiling glass doors, framed by crisp lace curtains, led to one of the expansive balconies. From the chairs set out on the terracotta balcony, they had a commanding view of the city. It was impressive. The huge Metropolitan Cathedral was just three blocks to the west and the Acropolis was visible in the haze to the south.

  “Look,” AJ said, admiring the view from the balcony. “I can’t believe it, I can see the Parthenon,” he said, pointing to the haze-shrouded plateau as Ceres strolled out to join him.

  “Actually, the Acropolis is the name of that flat mount you see. The Parthenon is the temple on top. You can’t quite see it yet through the mist. People sometimes use the names Acropolis and Parthenon interchangeably, which isn’t quite right.”

  “Whatever you call it, this is what I always imagined Athens would be like,” AJ said.

  Ceres retreated into their room, took the bed closest to the glass doors, and began unpacking. He had just begun when he turned and saw AJ holding two magazines and the barrel for his .45.

  “You brought those on the airplane? You must be crazy to bring a gun through security.”

  “I didn’t bring it through, you did. The rest of it’s in your bag,” AJ said, with a smirk.

  Ceres dug through his clothes to find the slide, trigger assembly, and frame wrapped in his underwear. He glared at AJ.

  “You shouldn’t have done that,” he said. “You want me to trust you and you do this? We definitely need to work on our communication,” Ceres said, throwing the gun components onto AJ’s bed. “What, no bullets?”

  “Maybe your friend Tino can help with that,” AJ said, as he began to assemble his grandfather’s .45.

  “It is Tinos. Tino is an Italian name,” Ceres said. “Do not put me at risk again.”

  Both men, trying to ward off jet lag, took a short nap before their meeting. Later, as AJ emerged from the bathroom, Ceres took him by the arm and said, “We must be very careful from this point on, my friend. We can really only trust each other. Please be selective in what you tell this man Dranias.”

  “You’re right, of course. I was thinking about the meeting. Dranias doesn’t know I am traveling with someone. You could find another table nearby to watch and listen. When he leaves, you could follow him. He doesn’t know you and you blend in here better than I do,” AJ suggested.

  “That’s a sound idea. I’ll come in right after you. What will you do while I’m gone?” Ceres said.

  “I’ll come up here and wait for you,” AJ responded. “Shall we go?”

  “See that you’re here when I return Ajax,” Ceres replied.

  “Trust issues Ceres?” AJ replied, with a toothy smile.

  The hotel bar was more in line with AJ’s first impression of the hotel, dark, dingy, and claustrophobic. The smell of stale beer and mold reminded him of his fraternity house. He took a seat at a high top table near the bar and waved to the bartender, who was chatting with two women at the end of the bar. He came over and said,

  “Yassou.”

  “Do you speak English?” AJ asked.

  “Yes.”

  “You are open?”

  “Yes, but only for the bar. No food until five.”

  “What cognac or brandy do you have?”

  “We have Metaxa, Remy Martin, Courvoisier, Napoleon and some local ones too. All very good, sir.”

  “Bring me one of the local ones then. Nothing too sweet,” AJ said.

  “Very good, sir. You are American, a guest of the hotel. Perhaps I could get you something else?” he said, nodding at the two women at the end of the bar.

  Hotel bars, the same round the world, AJ thought. “Not now, but maybe later,” AJ said.

  As the bartender walked away, Ceres came in and took a seat at the bar within easy earshot. He didn’t look at his young friend but instead shot a smile at the two prostitutes.

  When the bartender came over, Ceres said something in Greek to which the bartender responded with a polite nod. After he had served Ceres’ drink, the bartender turned on the radio. Raucous bouzouki music filled the empty bar. Ceres stared into his drink. He wouldn’t hear this conversation, he thought. All he could do was watch AJ at the table behind him in the mirror over the bar.

  A man appeared in the bar’s door and made a beeline for AJ. Spiros Dranias was dark complected, medium build and height with dark hair and eyes. He had what for AJ would be a three-day beard growth, but was probably only his three o’clock shadow. He wore light colored slacks and a short-sleeved shirt, both rumpled. The shirt showed dark stains under the arms. His most notable descriptor, though, was his tic. His head moved slowly from side to side in a little downward arc. Like a little dog in the rear window of a car, his head never stopped. AJ, fear gathering in his gut, gathered himself and decided immediately he was comfortable dealing with this man. He’d seen his type many times before. He had file drawers filled with their criminal defense records back in Miami.

  “You are the man who called?” Dranias said.

  “I’m the very same, John Jones from New York. You are Mr. Dranias?” AJ said, raising his voice to be heard over the music and standing to shake the man’s sweaty hand. Never trust a man with a damp handshake, AJ recalled his father saying.

  “Yes. Just call me Dranias. Everyone does.”

  He spoke in sharp, jerky bursts as his head continued its slow side-to-side movement. It was more than a little unnerving.

  “What is it I may do for you, Mr. Jones?” he said.

  “I’m working with a family doing some genealogy research. I was going to be traveling, so I said I would help. My friends are searching for their Greek relatives and are researching contacts they may have had with some men during the war. Records are scarce, as I’m sure you know, so I need someone with local knowledge and resources. It may be a long search, but these people are willing to pay,” AJ said, trying to sound slightly unethical, but he didn’t want to lay it on too thick.

  “Yes, Dranias could help with this,” the PI said. “I’ve done such work before,” he responded. “What are the names, and where did the family originate?”

  AJ took a piece of folded paper from his sport coat pocket and started to slide it across the table toward the private detective, but as he reached for it, AJ quickly pulled it back, saying, “We work together on this. You don’t try to contact the client. If you do, you don’t get paid.”


  “Dranias understands, we work together, but I work for you. I get sixty Euros a day plus expenses. I will, no doubt, have to travel to the places these people have been.”

  “I’m not some tourist you can rip off. You can have thirty Euros a day, IF you get results.”

  “All right, Mr. Jones, thirty. How will I contact you?”

  “Leave a message for me here, for the moment,” AJ replied.

  “Is there any special type of record I should look for?” Dranias said, his head still slowly moving.

  “The usual, I think. You should look for birth, death, military and financial records. These are wealthy people we are working for,” AJ replied. That should get his attention, AJ thought.

  Dranias’ head momentarily stopped its side-to-side movement as he stared at AJ, letting this last bit of information soak in, then the slow head motion began again.

  AJ offered the paper once again, and this time when Dranias reached for it slowly, AJ let him take it. Dranias said “What part of the country?”

  “The Northern provinces, Macedonia, Thrace, and Thessaloniki in particular, I would start in Thessaloniki, but there may be small hill towns too. When can I expect to hear from you?”

  “I can leave tonight. Three to four days, Dranias should know something.”

  “Call here in two days. Leave a message for Mr. Jones. We can speak on the telephone or meet again, but not here.”

  “Very well, Mr. Jones, we will meet again soon. Thank you. Oh, there is the small matter of the retainer and, say four days in advance?”

  “Let us say, two days in advance and you get the retainer when you report back to me,” AJ said.

  Exasperated, Dranias said, “Two days, in advance, but the retainer up front. That is how I work.”

  “Very well, I’ll find someone else. Thank you for your time, Mr. Dranias,” AJ said and stood to leave.

  “No, wait,” the detective said, putting a hand on AJ’s arm.

  AJ gently peeled Dranias’ hand away.

  “Two days in advance will be satisfactory but I need expense money, too. It is costly to travel north,” Dranias said.

  “No, it’s not costly, you thief. You aren’t dealing with any fool.”

  “All right,” the detective said, admitting defeat. “Two days in advance.”

  “Very good. I think we understand each other now,” AJ said as he counted out the detective’s sixty Euros.

  Dranias motioned for the waiter, saying, “We should have a drink together to celebrate our partnership” he said.

  “I don’t think so, and to be clear, we aren’t partners. You’d better get going,” AJ responded.

  Dranias frowned, “Very well, we will talk again in four days. Good day, Mr. Jones.”

  “You will call me in two days. Good-bye Mr. Dranias.”

  Dranias got up, and left the bar without looking back.

  Dranias left the American behind without another thought. He walked purposefully eight blocks to a taverna on Themistocles Avenue where he knew the bartender. He had to make a call.

  Dranias walked into the Taverna Diana. The music was loud and bar stools were empty. Dranias walked over to the bartender and said, “I need to use the phone.”

  “You owe four hundred Euros. Pay up and you can use the phone, the men’s room, anything you want, but not before,” the bartender replied, leaning on the bar.

  “Look, it’s for a job. I need to report in. I’ll get paid and then I’ll pay you,” the PI replied.

  “You’ve told me that a hundred times. Get out of here, you stinking leach.”

  “I just need to make one call. I’ll be paid, and then I can pay you. There’s a big tip in it for you, too.”

  “I’m going to let you do it one last time. If you don’t pay up by Friday, don’t bother coming back here,” the bartender said, banging a phone on the bar in front of Dranias.

  Dranias, focused on his task, took a scrap of paper from his pocket, and dialed the scribbled number on it. He didn’t notice the man who had quietly taken a place near him at the end of the bar and ordered ouzo.

  “This is Dranias in Athens,” he said forcefully into the phone. “Is he there?”

  “You were told not to call here.”

  “Listen. Tell your boss the American is here, in Athens. The boss told me to listen and watch for some names. One of those names is on a list the American gave me. The American called me. Can you believe it? What luck!”

  “Not luck. He no doubt called you because you’re the most disreputable detective in Greece.

  What name did he give you to check?”

  “There’s a list. Do you want it now, over the phone?” Dranias said.

  “No. It can wait. What name is the American using?”

  “He calls himself Jones, an alias I am certain,” Dranias replied.

  “Where are you?”

  “Taverna Diana on Themistocles.”

  “Wait there. Someone will pick you up.”

  Dranias coaxed a drink out of the bartender. He chatted with him about his big client, the payoff he would get for finding a man and how he was sure to get more work from this important client all in earshot of the stranger seated at the end of the bar.

  Thirty-five minutes later, a black Mercedes pulled up in front of the Taverna Diana. With a wave to the bartender, Dranias headed out the door to the waiting car.

  CHAPTER 9

  Forty-five minutes after Dranias finished his phone call, Ceres watched as his quarry paid for his drink, walked outside, and after speaking to the driver, sped away. Ceres, dejected, had nothing to do but finish his drink and walk the eight blocks back to the hotel.

  “Did he say a name? Could you tell who he was talking to?” AJ asked, after Ceres described his surveillance and the little bit of the phone conversation he had been able to overhear.

  “No, not who, but I feel it was someone in authority. He made it clear they were looking for an American, though. He mentioned the list you gave him. I had the impression others were looking as well. Looking for you, again an impression,” Ceres replied.

  “Who was he talking too?” AJ said.

  “I don’t know,” he replied.

  “What about the car? Could you tell anything about it?” AJ asked.

  “It was new. I think it had only the driver inside. The windows were closed and dark, so I didn’t see anyone else,” Ceres replied.

  “So he spoke to the driver and got in?”

  “I think it was the driver, but I’m not sure. Remember, I was inside the taverna,” Ceres replied.

  “What about his conversation with the bartender?” AJ asked.

  “He was bragging about working for some big client, and how he expects to be paid a lot for finding ‘the American’, you, I’m guessing,” Ceres replied.

  “Did he give any clue why they were looking for me?” AJ asked.

  “No, he didn’t say,” Ceres said.

  “Whew,” AJ said trying to catch his breath. “You’re sure you didn’t hear him say anything else?”

  “I’m sorry. I guess I didn’t do very well,” Ceres said.

  “No, you did great. It’s very helpful,” AJ, said, hoping to smooth things over with the Ceres.

  “I was just hoping for more. You were certainly right about one thing though. It was careless of me to reveal our location. Telling Mr. Dranias about the hotel was a mistake. We should leave here, don’t you think?” AJ said. “And Ceres, you did an amazing job following that guy. I can hardly believe the amount of information you did get. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” After a few moments’ thought, Ceres continued, “We should leave yes but we should use this new knowledge to our advantage. Whoever Dranias called is obviously interested in you but they couldn’t know about me yet, or that Dranias was followed. They also don’t know your name. We should consider how best to use these advantages,” Ceres said.

  “You’re a good man to have around. You see advantage w
here I see a mess. Do you think your friend Tinos could recommend a place for us? He didn’t want you to stay here, anyway. We should get out of here right away.”

  “I should have thought of that! Yes, I’m sure he would help us,” Ceres said.

  “Maybe we could bribe the desk clerk or the manager to let us know who comes looking,” AJ added.

  “Why don’t you see to the hotel manager while I call Tinos,” Ceres said.

  Ceres used the lobby pay phone to call Tinos. “Tinos, this is Ceres Savas. I rode in your taxi from the airport today,” Ceres said, speaking in Greek.

  After a moment’s hesitation the cabbie said, “Aha! Yes, my friends from America. How are you?”

  “Fine, fine, thank you, but I must ask a favor, if I may.”

  “Anything for a countryman, how can I help you?”

  “My friend and I like the Metro, but I would be happier with something less extravagant. Can you help us find something tonight?”

  “Certainly my friend,” Tinos replied. “I will check to see what is available. I will pick you up at say … nine.

  We can get some dinner, and you can tell me how else I can help you,” the Greek driver said.

  “That would be wonderful. Thank you. We appreciate your help but let’s meet at the Metropolitan Cathedral. We’re going there now for a tour. See you at nine,” Ceres said.

  AJ went to the front desk and asked for the manager. When a portly little man, in a three-piece suit at least a size too small, appeared, AJ asked if they could speak in private and they went into a claustrophobic office behind the front desk.

  “My friend and I are leaving tonight, now in fact,” AJ said once they were both seated.

  “Is there something wrong with your room, the service?” the flustered manager said.

  “No, no there’s nothing wrong. Your beautiful hotel doesn’t fit our needs as well as I had hoped. We’ve decided to take an island tour,” AJ lied, not knowing how far he could trust him.

  “We’re leaving right away, but I need a favor,” AJ said, holding ten folded one hundred Euro notes between his fingers for the man to see. The manager was immediately all ears.