“What about a lawyer?”
“That, too, I guess. Damnit. I’m not used to playing defense. It makes me feel helpless. I’ve got to come up with a plan before Spiros goes public with this.”
“What about your suspension? It’s bound to get out to the press.”
“Until Spiros has proof to make the charges stick, he’ll be too afraid to say anything that might embarrass him if he ends up with no one to prosecute. All he has now are Tassos’ prints on an empty safe and nothing to corroborate there ever was anything inside.
“What I’m worried about are television crews chasing after me for video. They’ll run the same loop of me over and over on the nightly news while sanctimonious, talking-head anchors demand that the ministry stop ‘covering up a scandal’ involving the head of Special Crimes. That’s the sort of pressure that could get Spiros defensive enough to say something stupid and ignite a media frenzy that would ruin my reputation no matter what comes of any prosecution.”
“Sounds like you should hide out. Some place where you can be alone with your thoughts and come up with a plan. No need to worry about us. We’ll be fine.”
“But if I disappear the media might say I took off because I’m guilty.”
“If the press wants to call you guilty they’ll do it anyway, but at least they won’t be stalking you with cameras. And if Spiros wants to find you, he knows he can reach you through me.”
Andreas nodded, “Aren’t you worried about my being alone? That I might need a suicide watch?”
She gestured no, her face expressionless. “Never even entered my mind. How many times have you told me you’ve been haunted all your life, wondering how different your life might have been if your father had lived, if he’d stood up to the ‘bastard’ who set him up to look corrupt?”
Lila shook her head. “No, the man I married would never subject his son to that same lifetime ordeal.”
Andreas pulled her back against his chest and kissed her forehead. “Have I told you how much I love you?”
Lila stood up and tugged on Andreas’ arm. “Me too. Come. It’s time to wake your son. He misses his daddy.”
***
It was late afternoon when Tassos and Kouros arrived at Andreas’ apartment.
“I was wondering when you’d get here. Couldn’t reach either of you all day.”
“We decided not to call you,” said Tassos. “Our phones might be tapped now that we’ve lost our security clearances with the ministry.”
“You’ve been suspended, too?”
Tassos nodded. “I was summoned back to Athens this morning. Spiros even sent a helicopter for me. It was a really bullshit presentation. He actually expected me to believe that you and Yianni had turned on me.”
“He tried,” said Kouros. “Even promised not to prosecute me for what I did to those three pricks who went after Maggie. I told him, ‘Go right ahead. It should make great press that on the ministry’s orders a little old lady was brutally attacked by three men trying to force their way into her boss’ office and the only person prosecuted was a cop who came to her assistance.’”
“I suggest you leave out the ‘little old lady’ bit if you ever tell that story to Maggie,” said Andreas.
“Why? Maggie’s the one who told me to say it. She’s as angry as a mama bear protecting her cubs. God protect Spiros from her wrath.”
Andreas nodded. “He tried to get me to turn, too.”
“Of course he tried. And, frankly, if either of you think testifying against me might save your careers I want you to do it. You’re both a lot younger than I am and have your families to consider. Besides, with what I have on every judge and prosecutor I’ll never get any jail time. The most I’d lose is my pension, and from the haircuts the government keeps giving them, there’s not much left to lose there.”
Andreas stared at Tassos. “My friend, I know you’re upset that your declining years caused you to leave those prints on the safe, but you’re not going to get off so easy for that screw-up. Yianni and I intend to remind you of it every time you say how dumb some bad guy is.”
“Yeah, I can’t wait to start, old man.” Kouros smiled.
Tassos lowered his eyes and shook his head. “I really did screw up. Sorry.”
“Hell, look at the bright side,” said Andreas. “Now Sergey has us all really angry at him.”
“So what are we going to do about it?” said Kouros.
“Not sure yet, but whatever it is we better act fast. It’s only a matter of time until Spiros gets someone who can testify about what was in that safe,” said Andreas.
“And who would that be?” said Tassos.
“The coroner, the guy you had open the safe, anyone who was there when it was opened. You can’t expect them all to cover for you,” said Andreas.
Tassos smiled, “You’re right, I couldn’t. That’s why there was nobody with me when I opened it. As soon as the safe was unlocked I had everyone leave. I’m the only one who saw the contents.” Tassos smiled. “I’m not that dumb. Just too weak in the knees to get up out of a crouch without hanging onto something.”
“Son of a bitch,” said Kouros.
“I’ve learned over the years that certain aspects of police work require a ‘protect your own ass’ approach.”
“Where’s the stuff now?” said Andreas.
“Where not even my mother could find it,” said Kouros. “And Lord knows I’ve had enough practice hiding things from her. Maggie threw everything into a backpack, gave it to me, and told me get the hell out of the office before Spiros’ reinforcements arrived.”
“The only way I see to get Spiros off our backs is by proving Sergey was behind Christos’ murder,” said Tassos. “And that means finding the two guys who killed him before Sergey does.”
“Europol’s working on it,” said Andreas.
“I’ll put out word on the Eastern European bad guy grapevine and see what that turns up,” said Tassos.
“What are you talking about?” said Kouros.
“Drug and human traffickers are always passing through Greece from the Balkans and further east. And they’re constantly exchanging information with their contacts and business partners here. It’s vital for their personal and business health to know who’s doing what in their spheres of interest. We just have to hope that somehow the two killers are known to someone on that web so that we can get a line on them.”
“Couldn’t Sergey find them the same way?” said Kouros.
“If he has the right connections, yes.”
“And you do?” said Kouros.
“Let me worry about that.”
“What do you want me to do, Chief?”
“Go fishing.”
“Huh?”
“Pack a bag and meet me here at midnight. We’re taking off for parts unknown.”
“And where exactly is that?”
“‘I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you,’” said Andreas.
“Tom Cruise in Top Gun,” said Kouros.
Tassos smiled, “Better that than Mission Impossible.”
***
Things were going quite nicely, thought Sergey. The hotel owner agreed to sell, the memorandum of understanding was signed and submitted to the ministry of tourism, and the mayor was on board as much as Sergey could hope for.
He took a sip of water and studied the grounds surrounding his table in the hotel’s poolside garden restaurant. There were a lot of changes to make here. But once he had the right politicians on board this place would be a gold mine. No, a diamond mine. It would change Mykonos forever.
He looked at his watch. It was almost midnight. Wacki was supposed to be here by now with news on whether the cops had a line on the two guys he’d sent with Anna to kill Christos. Sergey’s own contact had turned up nothing.
He didn’t want to have to ask Teacher for help on this. She only wanted to hear good news. And that’s all he intended to give her.
“Hi, Boss.” Wacki dropped into the chair across from Sergey and waved at a waitress for a drink.
“What did you find out?”
“Nothing about the two guys. The police have no idea where they are. Europol traced them to Bialystok but lost them when the girl turned up dead. Their best guess is they had a falling out, and the two guys iced her and took off.”
Damn, thought Sergey.
“I understand why you might be concerned that your old girlfriend and her buddies are killers, but there’s no way they’re coming back to this island. So, if I were you I’d relax.”
Sergey stared at Wacki until Wacki fidgeted in his chair.
“But I do have some good news. Your idea on that call to the police chief worked wonders.”
“Tell me.”
“Rumor is that all three cops have been suspended.”
“Why?”
“There was a second safe in Christos’ house, one that wasn’t mentioned in that Syros cop’s report.”
“What was inside?”
“No one knows.”
Good, thought Sergey.
“But now the safe’s empty.”
Even better news.
“Sounds like Stamatos and his buddies are facing jail time. Cops are afraid of prison. Too many enemies inside looking to settle a score. They’ll be too busy trying to save their own asses to be any more trouble for us.”
All I have to do is find a way to squeeze those cops until they realize the only move left for them is to turn over Christos’ files to me.
Sergey took another sip of water. Things, indeed, were going quite nicely.
***
Wacki had called Teacher twice today. All was going according to plan though she wondered why Sergey had Wacki checking up on the two men who murdered Christos. If he were worried the police might find them, the two should be killed.
She looked at the photograph of the young girl on her desk. “I pray for the day there no longer will be a need for violent acts. But violence is the nature of the godless creatures with which we grapple every day. It is ironic, it is tragic, but to do battle with the devil you must be prepared to do what even the devil dare not consider. Then the devil will deal.”
She reached out and stroked the girl’s face. Sergey knows all of that, she thought. He has since he was five. It was how he survived the violence of the orphanage and his years of abuse at the hands of slave-masters who called themselves foster parents. They were much alike in many ways.
My escape was a marriage. His was the army.
Teacher withdrew her hand from the photograph.
He did not know she was aware of his past. But she hoped he realized a new road was open to him. One that could lead to harmony in his life, allow him to achieve great things, and be acknowledged for his deeds. It was a step of destiny that only he could take. No matter how he suffered in his youth or sinned thereafter to survive, this was his chance at a blessed future.
She cleared her throat. “We shall see.”
Chapter Twenty
Andreas and Kouros made it from the apartment to the harbor town of Vouliagmeni south of Athens in thirty minutes. This was Greece’s most exclusive marina, where the rich and mega-rich kept their private yachts. The forty-eight-foot Uniesse’s engines roared to life the moment the two cops stepped out of the taxi. The two jumped on board, cast off the mooring lines, and were underway.
“It should take us less than three hours to reach Lia,” said the captain.
“I really appreciate this, Zanni,” said Andreas.
“Appreciate what? An excuse for me to get out of the house for a moonlight, full-throttle sprint across a calm sea? I’m the one who should be thanking you.”
Andreas laughed and smacked him on the back. “I also appreciate your keeping this just between us.”
“No problem. Like I said, I should be thanking you.”
The nearly full moon had turned the sea to silver glass, spewed out as diamonds in the breaking wake of the ship.
Andreas whispered to Kouros. “When you see the world looking as serenely at peace as it does tonight, it’s pretty hard to imagine all the deep shit we’re in.”
“Yeah, but did I hear him right? Are we headed to Lia beach, on Mykonos? We may as well have stayed in Athens.”
“Relax. Lia’s on the island’s southeast corner, far away from all the late night craziness, and with any luck we’ll be in and out of there long before any early risers are around to notice us.”
“But Mykonos is the first place the press will look for you when they can’t find you in Athens.”
“We’re not staying at Lila’s parents’ house. That’s where they’ll look. We’re using the home of American friends. They won’t be back until September. Their house is isolated at the top of a rutted, dirt mountain road far away from any beach. No tourist ever goes up there except by mistake, and the neighbors can’t see a thing over the walls surrounding the place.”
“Sounds like Meteora.”
Kouros was referring to the community of soaring, massive gray stone pillars in central Greece where for more than a thousand years many sought monastic seclusion among its virtually inaccessible heights.
“Not quite, we won’t have to hoist ourselves up in baskets. Lila arranged for one of her parents’ cars to be left by the beach.”
“I sure hope this works.”
“The house has television, so if it doesn’t, I’m sure the networks will tell us.”
***
The house sat high above the sea, facing south across the relatively undeveloped far southeastern shoreline of Mykonos. Centuries-old walls ran down from the property toward the sea, marking boundaries, holding back erosion, shading goats from the sun, and offering sanctuary to lizards from predators.
Its owners had taken great care to build in keeping with the habitat. The gardens were desert-like, with natural stone and unpainted wood featured in everything they built. The property literally faded into the mountain, and to find it even those who knew where it was often had to think, “Look just below and to the right of the mountaintop radar station.”
The sun was still low in the eastern sky, and Andreas sat outside having coffee on a stone terrace spanning the south side of the house.
“Couldn’t sleep?” asked Kouros coming out onto the terrace with a cup of coffee in his hand.
“I’m a bit wound up.”
“I bet.”
Kouros stared at a span of islands spread out across a rose-blue sea running off to the horizon. “What a view.”
“Sure is. Makes it worthwhile getting up at dawn.” Andreas took a sip of coffee. “I’ve been trying to figure out which ones they are. I recognize Naxos and Paros off to the west.”
“I was in the navy and used to know that stuff. Let me see if I still remember them.” Kouros stared east for about a half minute.
“Okay, the one way off in the distance to the left is Ikaria. It gets a lot of play in the foreign press about a relaxed lifestyle that has quite a few Ikarians living to be over a hundred.”
“Mykonians say that’s because they’re just too bored on Ikaria to bother to die.”
Kouros laughed. “The next one is only about six or seven miles from here. It’s uninhabited, all rock and cliffs, and the locals call it Stapodia. Beyond it is Donousa, and off to its right but so far away it’s hard to make out even on a clear day is Amorgos. You were right about the last two, Naxos is across from us and Paros is next to it on the right.”
“Well done, sailor. Now, could you tell me when that rash of white overrunning those beaches to the right of us is going to spread over here and kill this view.”
Kouros
pointed to some dots of white along the beaches directly below them. “The infection has already started.” He took a sip of coffee. “Build, build, build.”
“That’s been our countrymen’s mantra since the eighties. It’s all about the money. Either having it or giving the impression that you do. And for those with that mindset, building a house on Mykonos was a surefire way of showing yourself part of the in-crowd, or able to spend as if you were.”
“Tell me about it. The other night I met a woman in a nightclub and when I told her I was a cop who spent time on Mykonos she thought I was loaded. But as soon as I told her I was an honest cop she walked out on me.”
Andreas laughed. “I assume you wanted her to go.”
“Well, to be honest, I told her that last part after.”
Andreas shook his head and grinned. “What the hell has happened to us, my friend. ‘Nothing in excess’ once was Greece’s guiding principle. Now it’s, ‘Nothing is ever enough.’”
“I wonder what the Mykonian perspective is on all this?” Kouros spread out his arms and waved them in the direction of the beaches below.
“I’m not sure there is a ‘Mykonian perspective’ on things these days beyond one they share with the rest of Greece over how this financial catastrophe will end.”
Andreas sipped his coffee and stared at the sea. “But Lila once told me something about Mykonos that might help answer your question.”
“Go for it.”
“For most of their history Mykonians were an overlooked people living in poverty under a range of different foreign occupiers, some good, some not. They saw their families slaughtered, carried off as slaves, die from strange diseases brought to their island from foreign lands, and starve to death.
“They also witnessed the rise of the greatest civilization of its time within a mile of their island, on a place one twenty-fifth Mykonos’ size, where hundreds of years before the birth of Christ more than twice as many people lived as currently do on Mykonos. In its day Delos was the place to be and to party, filled with lavish homes, temples, theaters, athletic facilities and places of commerce far outstripping any comparable lifestyle on Mykonos today.
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