Kitchens were where Lila and her mother liked to talk when alone. They preferred the cramped intimacy of a cluttered kitchen table to the formality of china-and silver-filled dining rooms.
Lila sighed. ‘I never expected this to happen.’
Her mother glanced at Lila’s belly.
Lila stroked her tummy. ‘No, mother, not the baby, I mean this.’ She waved her hands around and over her head. ‘I didn’t even know Andreas ten months ago. Now we’re about to have a baby together.’
Her mother nodded. ‘Are you afraid?’
Lila’s lip quivered. ‘Yes. And I feel so ashamed that I am.’ She started crying.
Her mother handed her a handkerchief. ‘If you weren’t somewhat afraid it wouldn’t be natural. You’re close to the most intimate moment of a woman’s life, giving birth to a being you will love more deeply than yourself for the rest of your life.’ She reached over and stroked Lila’s hair. ‘It is a moment for great joy. And great fear. But you are blessed. Andreas is a wonderful man and will be a terrific father.’
Lila threw the handkerchief on the table. ‘But he won’t marry me. He won’t even talk about it.’
‘Why do you think that is?’
From her mother’s tone Lila could tell she had asked the question with a pretty good idea of the answer. It was her style of parenting: don’t tell, lead and elicit. ‘He’s afraid, too.’
Her mother nodded.
‘But why? He must know that I love him.’
‘Of course he does. He’s just not sure that’s enough for you.’
‘Why do you say that?’
‘You come from different backgrounds. He fears you later may regret your decision, that your feelings for him now are tied into having a baby together.’
‘Are you trying to tell me you think the same way?’ There was an angry tone in Lila’s voice.
Her mother smiled. ‘One of the things I like most about Andreas is how he’s learned to deal with this confrontational streak of yours. No, I don’t think that way. Besides, it’s not my life that will be affected by second thoughts and “what ifs.”’
‘I have no such issues.’
‘Good, then don’t push things.’
‘But it’s difficult to act as if I don’t care whether or not he marries me.’
‘I know, but trust me, he’ll come around. After all, how could he resist the best person in the world?’ She stood up and kissed Lila on the forehead. ‘And the mother of his baby.’ She patted Lila’s belly. ‘Got to run.’
Lila smiled and took her mother’s hand. ‘Thanks, I love you.’
She’s right, Lila thought. I shouldn’t push. Instead, maybe I should try hitting him over the head with a frying pan until he proposes? No chance, he’d never feel it. She chuckled despite herself.
The abbot was not pleased at the surprise visit. Even less so when Andreas insisted that the procession of monks entering his office, dropping to their knees before him, crossing themselves, and kissing his hand must end, and those already seated in his office told to leave.
‘We are reviewing the plans for tomorrow morning’s Holy Thursday Ceremony of the Basin. We have very important things to discuss.’
‘So do we, but unless you want to risk washing dirty laundry in front of everyone here today, I suggest you excuse them for now.’
Andreas could see the abbot was angry, but he told his monks to leave.
‘This better be important.’
Andreas was in no mood to be politic with anyone. ‘If I were you, I’d hope it isn’t.’
‘What are you saying?’
‘Do you remember telling me that the three monks we wanted to interview had left Patmos before you had the chance to speak to them?’
‘Yes.’
‘And that they’d left by boat late Sunday night?’
The abbot hesitated slightly. ‘Yes.’
‘And that the reason they left was so that they could “be back in their monasteries in time for Easter observances”?’ Andreas emphasized the last words with quotation marks from his fingers.
The abbot glared in a way Andreas figured he reserved for withering a most out-of-favor monk. Andreas looked at his watch, crossed his legs, and smiled.
The abbot blinked and let out a breath. ‘Okay, so you learned they couldn’t have returned home in time to celebrate Easter Week within their monasteries.’
‘That’s monastery. They all came from the same one,’ said Andreas.
The abbot bristled. ‘They are men who have found salvation and repentance in God and whatever they may have done in the past has nothing to do with Vassilis.’
Andreas shook his head. ‘Interesting, a monk who lived in your monastery for forty years gets his throat cut and you take it upon yourself to protect strangers who might be able to help us find his killer. I admire your sense of loyalty.’ Andreas watched the abbot struggle to retain control.
‘The three, they are from the Balkan conflict. They came to Mount Athos and earned the right to a new life. That is nothing new. For centuries Byzantine and Serbian rulers have sought and received refuge there. But police may not agree, and I saw no reason to involve them in this.’
‘Or perhaps embarrass whoever gave them sanctuary?’
‘That is none of your business.’
The abbot’s back was up and he seemed ready for a fight. Andreas stared straight into his eyes. ‘I think you’re way out of line on this, and in way over your head. I don’t know what you’re thinking or who you’re afraid of, but one thing is for sure, you’re going to end up on the wrong side of things if you don’t tell me what you know, and I mean tell me now.’ It was a wing and a prayer bluff, but one aimed at most politicians’ knee-jerk propensity for protecting self-interest over all else.
The abbot’s face looked as if he’d missed that possibility, and for the first time he sounded unsure. ‘I cannot tell you a name, but I’m not refusing out of fear. It would betray a deep confidence of a true friend. I never will reveal his name. He put those three men onto the true path of the Lord, and I trust his judgment completely. I’m sure Vassilis would have agreed.’
‘Did Vassilis know him, whoever “he” may be?’
‘Vassilis knew of him and of my regard for him, but we never talked about him.’ He paused. ‘Although I think he knew Vassilis.’
‘Why do you say that?’
‘Because the three you seek sought out Vassilis. I assume to convey his regards.’
Andreas struggled to hold back what he was dying to say.
‘He is a spiritual gift to our life. I would never betray him,’ said the abbot.
Andreas bit his tongue. ‘I admire loyalty, but blind loyalty can lead you into the abyss. Now, where are the three men?’
The abbot stared out the window. ‘Honestly, I have no idea. All I know is they are gone from here.’
‘From Patmos?’
He paused. ‘From here.’
Andreas took that to mean he was finished with protecting them, but also with cooperating. Time to let him get back to preparing for tomorrow’s ceremony. Andreas wondered who got to play Judas.
What Zacharias missed most was his cell phone. The abbot forbade them in the monastery, and they didn’t work inside anyway. He’d tried, many times. If only he could convince the abbot that modern communication was not a thing of the devil. He’d tried that, too, many times, but the abbot was firm. As long as any telephone number contained the combination 666, the abbot considered all phones linked to Revelation’s Beast of Satan.
With so much in play on the outside at the moment, being incommunicado for more than a week was taking its toll on Zacharias’ good nature. He had to work extra hard at showing he was easygoing and stress-free.
Just take it one day at a time, he was thinking as he chanted prayers with his brethren. Stay under the radar, do not draw attention to yourself. It was a mantra he’d picked up many years before during another period of confinement, surrounded by
lines of razor wire and watched over closely by men with guns.
That worked for him then; it’s what made him invisible and allowed him to escape. And it’s what was working for him now; it enabled him to remain in the shadows, quietly amassing a group that shared his vision or, to be more precise, a message he knew would sell. In his other life Zacharias had learned another important truth: it wasn’t the message that mattered, it was whether people were willing to buy it. All he needed was a malleable ally in each monastery, one he could promote to the other monks, and the message would carry itself. So far, so good — three tries, three new abbots.
And his vision was so very simple, only a slight variation on the message of Revelation to the seven churches: Let us find someone who will resolve our monasteries’ problems, lead us back to our first love of God, address the heresy that has infiltrated us, set our priorities back on the right path, and help us to reach out to save our fellow man.
It was a message that gave Zacharias a lot of flexibility. Yes, he definitely knew how to go with what sold.
‘“Into the abyss.” You actually said that?’ Kouros was shaking his head. They were standing in the piazza outside the monastery.
‘I don’t know, the place is spiritual, the words just came to me.’ Andreas grinned. ‘At least I didn’t ask if the name of his mysterious best friend was “Zacharias.”’
‘I admire your discipline.’
‘Yeah, the moment of satisfaction wasn’t worth it. I can guarantee you that bringing up Zacharias’ name to the abbot would get back to him. And with all the powerful friends he seems to have, the last thing we need is Zacharias thinking we’re interested in him. We know he’s covering up a past and probably has a lot of favors he can call in to help keep it that way.’
‘On Sunday.’
‘In these days of text messages and cell phones, who knows? Better to play dumb and see what we can learn elsewhere.’
‘Where do you suggest we start looking?’
‘Hungry?’
Kouros smiled. ‘Thought you’d never ask.’
They started walking. ‘So, what did you find out about our new favorite taverna owner?’
Kouros answered, ‘He’s what he said. A former spook everyone knows about.’
‘For whom?’
‘Not for us. He didn’t work here, he worked in Eastern Europe, speaks four of their languages. The story is that he worked for the highest bidder.’
‘Figures.’
‘But like he said, not field stuff, just analysis.’
‘In other words, he was one of those guys who decided whether it was worth the risk of someone else getting his nuts shot off,’ said Andreas.
‘You could put it that way.’
A minute later they were in Dimitri’s.
‘My friend, how are you?’ Andreas spoke with his arms spread wide.
Dimitri seemed surprised to see them. ‘Hmm, things must be heating up. You’re here every day now.’
‘So you heard about my visit yesterday?’
He shrugged. ‘Force of habit. I like to keep informed.’
‘Great. Is there a place we can talk?’
‘Sure, you’re regulars now. Let me show you to your table.’ He told a passing waiter to bring coffee and sweets, and dropped into a chair next to the table. ‘So, what can I do for you?’
‘We’re looking for somebody,’ Andreas said.
Dimitri nodded.
‘But this has to be hush-hush. We’re not even sure the guy’s on the island, but if he is and learns we’re looking for him, poof, he’ll disappear.’
‘Okay, I get it.’
‘If you can help us we’d appreciate it, really appreciate it. But, if after we talk word gets out that we’re looking for someone…’ Andreas shook his head in a way that made voicing a threat unnecessary. ‘So, if you offer to help, great. If not, no hard feelings.’
‘You really know how to make a guy feel welcome.’ Dimitri laughed. ‘No problem, I get the picture. As long as he’s not a relative… unless I don’t like the bastard. But no matter who he is, I promise not to tip him off.’
Andreas looked at Kouros. Kouros nodded.
‘Okay,’ said Andreas. ‘Your word’s good enough for us. Well, it’s really three guys.’
‘Eastern European, big?’
‘How the fuck…’ Kouros caught himself.
‘One guy would be tough, but three guys hanging out together in a place they don’t belong get noticed, and people start to talk.’
Andreas shook his head. ‘Go on, please.’
‘Yesterday, was it yesterday — yeah, yesterday — I went over to this farm on the far north end of the island. It has the best fruits and vegetables on Patmos, but this time of the year I go for the eggs. Anyway, I get there and the farmer had three big guys working on repairing a shed. They were strangers; and I asked where they were from. He said he didn’t ask for passports; they just wanted to stay for a few days and were willing to work for food and a place to sleep.’
‘Ever see them around the monastery?’
He shook his head. ‘Not that I recall, but like I told you before, there are a lot of people visiting the monastery now. Big ones, small ones, you name it.’
‘When did they get to the farm?’
‘He said “yesterday,” which would mean Monday. Monday morning.’
Andreas nodded. ‘Can you tell us how to get there?’
‘Sure. But are you sure you want to go?’
‘Why?’
‘I don’t want to get your macho juices running, but these guys are three muscled motherfuckers. I saw them working with their shirts off.’
Andreas shook his head and said, ‘No problem,’ then turned to Kouros. ‘I guess that means I get to wait in the car while you ask the questions, detective.’
Zacharias was a student of human behavior. He prided himself on reading a mind from a glance. But there was nothing new to learn from this confinement. He’d grasped the essence of these men long ago. They were non-evolved examples of what writers had observed in antiquity: Greeks only buried their differences to unite against an external threat. Every man for himself until called upon to unite for the glory of Greece. They were like men in many parts of the world, and perfect for his purposes.
As for those who despaired because they believed corruption and self-interest made success in Greece a matter of random chance, he agreed with them — but only for those unwilling to manipulate the odds. He had no such reluctance and so for him that made success a matter of certainty, not chance.
If only he could be as certain of what was happening on Patmos.
12
The road north took them back to Kambos, but instead of going straight at the crossroads they went left. Dimitri’s directions were precise, in a Greek sort of way: keep going until you see really spectacular country, then take a right at the first big road heading downhill; it’s the farm off in the distance, next to the sea, with no tractors, only donkeys. Dimitri was willing to wager his pension that the family running the farm had no idea who the three men were. He said the family rented the land from the church and raised everything by the labor of their own hands. Such hardworking people were rare these days. And they never overcharged, which made them even rarer.
The farm was right where Dimitri promised it would be and just as he’d described: a cluster of white buildings surrounded by tall cedars and pines, above fields of sprouting green running down to a long stone wall that set the farm off from a sandy beach and the cove beyond. On the far right side of the cove, a short jetty cut into the sea, running parallel and close to the beach; a dozen small, brightly-painted Greek fishing boats were tied bow-to-jetty, stern-to-shore, and tiny sheds for fishing nets and other needs of the trade filled the seaward side of the jetty.
There was no way to approach the house unnoticed. It no doubt was built with that in mind generations ago by wary folk wanting warning of the welcome and not-so-welcome entering the
ir isolated paradise. Besides, the dogs would announce their presence long before they reached the house. To make it tougher, the only practical way to get there was by foot or aboard some four-footed creature.
‘Yianni, stop here.’ They were on a dirt road running down toward the sea, above and as close to the house as you could get from the road. From here they had an unobstructed view of the house, and vice-versa. The shed Dimitri had described was on the other side of the house and not visible from the road. A small coffee hut serving locals and the occasional tourist was farther down the road, blocking vehicle access to the sea below.
‘Looks like the church wants to keep this bit of paradise serene,’ said Kouros.
‘Let’s hope we don’t change things.’
Kouros nodded. ‘If they’re the ones who murdered the monk, they have nothing to lose.’
‘I don’t doubt for a second they’d kill everyone in that family if they had to.’
‘And us,’ added Kouros.
Andreas nodded. ‘Let’s just sit here for a while, and make sure they know we’re here.’
‘Sounds like a plan. Too bad I’m not in uniform, I could get out and parade around.’
‘I think they’ll be able to tell from the car.’ Andreas knew Kouros was teasing; they were driving a marked, blue-and-white Patmos police car.
‘That Patmos captain sure came around. He couldn’t help us enough. Like he found religion or something.’
Andreas nodded. ‘Or something.’ Andreas fluttered his lips. ‘Well, I guess it’s time.’
‘Damn sure hope this works.’
Andreas didn’t respond; he was concentrating, preparing himself. ‘Remember, show no guns. Just make sure you’ve got them ready.’
‘Three of them.’
Andreas looked at Kouros. ‘Okay?’
Kouros nodded. They bumped fists, and stepped out of the car.
They made their way through a break in the tightly packed brush and over a stone wall, then slid down a twelve-foot hillside to a wide path running parallel to the road above. Dogs started barking the moment they started sliding. A smaller rock-and-dirt path began there and ran straight up to the outbuildings next to the house. It was lined by three-foot-high stone walls and unevenly spaced cedars.
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