An Aegean April

by Jeffrey Siger

  By the time Dana arrived, the cameras were waiting. So was the commander.

  “What the hell is going on?” was his greeting.

  “Hi, Commander. As I told you yesterday, we’re having a press conference about the Volandes case.”

  “Not at my front door.”

  “I don’t plan on saying anything bad about you or your police.”

  “That’s nice to hear, but you’re still not holding it here.”

  “Well, we can’t move it now that everyone’s here.”

  “You’ll have to.”

  “Then you’ll have to arrest me in front of all these cameras.” She waved her hand in front of a phalanx of television cameras, some of which had begun filming. “I have the distinct impression that an image going out across the world of Lesvos police arresting the head of a widely respected NGO refugee organization just as she’s about to reveal new developments in the brutal murder of its largest benefactor will overshadow any nice things I might have to say about you or your department in the undoubtedly far more widely anticipated and attended press conference I shall hold the moment I’m released.” She put on a happy face for the cameras and patted him on the shoulder. “You might want to smile.”

  He simply stared at her. “Just don’t block the entrance.” He turned and walked inside.

  She turned to face the cameras, and immediately a gaggle of reporters waved her toward an improvised lectern ringed with microphones. She still felt the adrenaline from her little victory over the police commander. But now what? This could be the biggest dud of a press conference of all time. Worse still, it could backfire and turn Ali into a whipping boy for refugee-haters. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves, and told herself to sound professional.

  You better not fuck this up, McLaughlin.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Dana McLaughlin, and I am executive director of operations on Lesvos for SafePassage. As I’m certain you know, all of us mourn the loss of a uniquely caring soul who sought no honors or profit for himself, but only to better the lives of hundreds of thousands of innocents seeking refuge in Europe from the terror and violence haunting their homelands. Children, wives and mothers, husbands and fathers simply looking for a place to live out their lives in peace.

  “But that was not to be. Instead, those who find profit in terror and violence came to Mihalis Volandes’ home, to his front door, and struck him down to send a brutal, bloody message to any others who might dare to threaten their multi-billion-euro refugee-trafficking business. It is the shame of our time, our world, the European Union, and this nation that we allow them to escape without so much as a whisper of blame.

  “And I say shame because we know who is behind it, we know who profits, and yet we do not seem to care. But I care.” Dana pointed to her colleagues. “We care.”

  She pointed at the cameras. “And I hope you care.”

  She paused. “I know you’ve all heard that Ali Sera, an employee of our organization, has been arrested for the murder. But we know he did not do it. Even the police know he’s innocent. But for some, it’s convenient to label him––a brave and loyal supporter of Mr. Volandes––as a scapegoat.

  “Let there be no doubt in anyone’s mind that Mihalis Volandes died on the direct orders of those who control refugee trafficking to Greece’s shores. Nothing happens without their approval, and the lines of authority are clear and responsive.”

  A reporter yelled, “Give us names.”

  Dana smiled. “I’m afraid our friends on the Greek police would not take kindly to my disclosing their names at this point in their investigation.”

  “What investigation?” asked the same reporter.

  “The one currently being conducted by the Greek Police’s Special Crimes Unit.”

  “Are you sure of that?” said another reporter.

  “Ask its chief, Andreas Kaldis.”

  “What makes you so sure it’s some broad-based conspiracy, and not simply the act of your friend in police custody?”

  “Ali is a friend, but he’s also innocent, and when the hard evidence is made public, you’ll see that it’s true.”

  “Then why’s he still in jail?” asked a female reporter.

  “For his own protection. Mihalis Volandes’ killer will not hesitate to do the same to anyone who could identify him.”

  A second of total silence broke into a cacophony of competing questions. “Are you saying Ali can identify the killer?” cried the loudest voice.

  Dana raised her hand. “I really can’t get into that.”

  The same question kept coming.

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t say any more on that.”

  “Well, what more can you say?” asked the same woman.

  “That’s fair. Permit me to point more precisely to where you’ll find who’s behind this evil stalking Greece and Europe, and with the investigative resources at your disposal, I’m certain at least one of you will be able to identify the person I’m not at liberty to name.”

  She paused and pointed southeast. “Izmir. That’s where you’ll find the man who ordered the assassination of Mihalis Volandes.”

  l l l l l

  From the moment Dana pointed her finger at Izmir, the phone in Andreas’ office hadn’t stopped ringing. Apparently, nothing she’d said beyond that had anywhere near the impact of slandering Greece’s biggest competitor for the Aegean tourist’s euro, ruble, dollar, yuan, whatever.

  Included among the calls was a tirade delivered to Maggie from Andreas’ new boss for “not keeping him in the loop,” and a request from the Prime Minister’s office for an “immediate briefing.” Andreas told Maggie to give them all the same answer. “The chief inspector has not yet seen the press conference and will have nothing to say until he has.”

  Networks immediately e-mailed Maggie links to Dana’s performance.

  A grim-faced Andreas sat watching in silence alongside Maggie and Yianni.

  “What a dumb bitch,” growled Maggie.

  “Sure glad you said that and not me,” said Yianni.

  “What sort of a lunatic makes this stuff up? She’s claiming there’s a James Bond-style mastermind villain hanging out in Izmir, and that the chief knows who he is. Is she trying to get you killed?”

  Andreas ran the fingers of his right hand across his forehead. “She might be a bitch, but she’s certainly not dumb, and not likely a lunatic either.” He leaned forward. “She just focused the entire nation on the plight of her friend by embellishing only slightly on the obvious. Yes, we are conducting an investigation, yes, I am in charge, and yes, we are convinced Ali didn’t do it, and that someone is setting him up. It also didn’t take much guesswork on her part to point a finger at Izmir as the heart of refugee smuggling out of Turkey into the Northern Aegean islands, and a very well-organized and politically protected heart, at that.”

  “How would she know it’s protected?” said Yianni.

  Andreas shrugged and picked up a pencil. “She deals with refugees more than any of us. It’s not much of a secret. Or a leap of logic, for those who don’t already know. Andreas twirled the pencil between his fingers. “The only thing I can’t figure out, is why she decided to throw a dart at Izmir as home to whoever’s at the top of the refugee-trafficking food chain. Does she really know who it is?”

  “Maybe we should ask her,” said Maggie.

  “I doubt she’ll have an answer, but by asking, at least it shows we care.” Andreas looked at Yianni. “You haven’t called her yet, have you?”

  “I was going to give her a call today, but things got a bit hectic.”

  “No problem. Give her a call now, and see what she has for us. But don’t give her any information beyond what she already knows, and be sure to keep your temper in check when she starts to go at you.”

  “Over what?”

 
; “Who knows, but it will be something.”

  “Maybe you should make the call.”

  “Nope.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I won’t be able to control my temper,” said Andreas, snapping the pencil between his fingers.

  l l l l l

  As soon as the press conference ended, the commander motioned for Dana to follow him inside the building.

  “Am I being arrested?”

  “That would be too easy on you. I just want to get some details for my records, like the name and address of your next of kin.”

  “That’s a bit dramatic, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Not after your performance out there. You do realize, of course, you just put a target the size of this island between your shoulder blades.”

  “Like I told you before, it’s a risk I’m prepared to take.”

  “And pinned another on your buddy, Ali. Is he prepared to take the risk?”

  “It had to be done.”

  “To do what? Piss off the only cop in Greece who might have been able to help you nail the bastards you’re so convinced took out Volandes?”

  “You think you’re that cop?”

  “Me? Not a chance. This situation is way outside my jurisdiction.”

  “If you’re talking about Kaldis, he had it coming. It’s been five days since he promised to help Ali, but he hasn’t done a thing for him.”

  “You’re as headstrong as my daughter.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean? I don’t owe Kaldis a thing, and whether this lights a fire under his ass or gets him fired, either way, Ali’s better off.”

  The commander shook his head. “You ought to spend a lot less time talking and a hell of a lot more on learning what you’re talking about.”

  “What? You’re going to defend Kaldis now?” She shook her head. “Right. Of course. Cops always stick up for each other.”

  “That may be true, but it’s clear you know nothing about Andreas Kaldis.”

  “What’s to know? He’s like every other cop, except he has a big-time job that he keeps by doing political favors and errands for his masters in Athens.”

  He stared at her. “I think the clinical term for the sort of incredibly off-the-wall scenarios you create in your mind to justify your behavior is delusional.”

  “You have no basis for insulting me.”

  “I didn’t call you an arrogant, ill-informed little shit, I called you delusional, and if you want confirmation of that,” he pointed out the front door, “go back out there and repeat in front of the cameras what you just told me about Kaldis and see what happens. You’ll be laughed off the island. In fact, out of Greece, because you’ll just have proved to everyone who hears your rant that you have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Dana’s right eye began to twitch. “Why, because he has a big title?”

  “I’m amazed at how little you know about the political landscape of the country you’re working in, not to mention the people you decide to piss off. Every bad guy in Greece knows Andreas Kaldis can’t be bribed. He’s married into one of Greece’s most prominent and wealthy families. He’s already served as Minister of Public Order and could do so again if he wanted, but prefers catching bad guys. As for political connections, he saved the Prime Minister’s life. He’s untouchable. And if he doesn’t lift another finger on this case, it won’t mean a damned thing one way or other to him, his career, or his life.”

  The commander sighed. “And you, in the delusional passion of your headstrong I’ll-save-the-world fantasy, just tried to fuck him. Good luck.”

  She looked down. “You’re wrong about me.”

  He turned and walked back toward his office, leaving Dana standing alone.

  She watched him walk away, turned, and stared out toward the departing media trucks.

  Now what?

  l l l l l

  Aryan found Deema draped in a black shawl reading alone in the second-floor sunroom. She sat framed in floor-to-ceiling windows, matted against an azure sky. He’d noticed she seemed to favor out-of-the-way places, shunning the home’s grander, more ostentatiously furnished and gilded rooms.

  He didn’t know how long he’d been standing in the doorway before Deema caught him staring at her.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Watching you.” He smiled.

  She didn’t smile. “You’ve got to stop this.”

  “Stop what?”

  “Talking with me.”

  “You don’t like talking to me?”

  “Malik will be suspicious.”

  “Of what?” Aryan furrowed his brow as if confused.

  “Of our talking.”

  “We’re living in the same house. Why shouldn’t we speak?”

  Deema shook her head. “You do not understand. My husband is a very jealous man.”

  Aryan nodded. “Does he beat you?”

  She looked down. Silent.

  “Why do you stay with him?”

  “I cannot leave him. He would kill me.”

  “What about your brother? Won’t he protect you?”

  She let loose with a quick nervous laugh. “Jamal? He’d help Malik do it. He’s who drove me to marry Malik. Said it would be good for our entire family. Jamal does whatever Malik tells him.”

  Aryan stepped forward, stopping just in front of her. “Please, stand.”

  She looked behind him and out the window.

  “Don’t worry, there’s no one here to see us.”

  “I, I can’t….”

  “Can’t what?” He reached for her hand and gently pulled her to her feet. He put his hands on her shoulders, and pulled off the shawl. She wore a simple, white peasant-style blouse beneath it.

  “Turn around, please.”

  She didn’t look at him, but turned.

  He placed his hands on her hips just below the bottom of the blouse. He felt her body tense, but she didn’t move. He put his hands under her blouse, rested his palms against her skin, and slid them up along her back to her neck, pulling the blouse up along with his hands until it rested on top of her shoulders.

  She still didn’t move.

  He ran the fingers of one hand between her shoulder blades.

  “He did all of this to you?”

  She didn’t move.

  “You didn’t answer me. He cut your skin like this?”

  She nodded.

  He ran the fingers of both hands softly along the sides of her body, watching goosebumps rise along her back as he did.

  “How?”

  “With his belt.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I allowed you to see me naked.”

  “When did you do that?”

  “That first night, in the garage.”

  “You did not allow me to see you. I cut away your clothes with a sword.”

  “To my husband, if you saw me naked, it was my fault.”

  Aryan touched her blouse to let it fall back into place. “Please, turn around.”

  She did, eyes fixed on the floor.

  “If he ever hits you again, or even threatens to harm you, tell me.”

  Her eyes stayed locked on the floor. “I cannot do that, for if I did, the moment you leave us, he would kill me.”

  He cupped her chin in the palm of one hand and lifted her head until her eyes met his. “Who ever said I’m leaving?” He kissed her on the forehead.

  A car roared up toward the front of the house, spitting gravel all the way.

  “It’s Malik! He knows about us.” She ran to grab her shawl.

  “There’s nothing to know. Don’t worry.”

  “But when he drives like that, he’s very angry.”

  “Good to know. Stay here
. I’ll deal with him.” He kissed her once more on the forehead and headed toward the stairs.

  Malik came through the front door just as Aryan reached the bottom of the stairs. Malik waved for Aryan to follow him into his study. “I must speak to you immediately.”

  Aryan fingered the butt of the nine-millimeter in his small-of-the-back holster. “What’s up?”

  Malik closed the door behind them. “Your little escapade on Lesvos is now international news.”

  “Why?”

  Malik turned on the television across from his desk. “Listen.”

  A young blond woman, affecting a serious glare at no one in particular, related what the screen below her flashed as BREAKING NEWS. “This morning the Greek government allowed an American representative of an NGO to slander the people of Turkey. At a press conference held outside Mytilini police headquarters, the representative made outrageous charges, linking Turkish citizens to last week’s murder of a Greek shipowner on Lesvos.

  “The American said that the individual currently in custody could identify the actual killer, and that both she and the Greek police know who’s behind the murder. The Greek police had no comment, and the American refused to disclose any names, though she did say that the one who ordered the assassination could be found ‘in Izmir.’”

  Aryan pointed at the screen. “That’s what has you worked up? It’s an obvious bluff intended to get us to make a mistake, or make the Greek police look as if they’re actually doing something. If they knew who we were, they’d already be here.”

  “Maybe,” said Malik, “but we’re not in Izmir.”

  “See, I told you, it’s all a bluff.”

  “Too bad my boss doesn’t think the same way you do. Maybe then my life––make that our lives––wouldn’t be at risk. But, then again, he has a different perspective than you or I, what with him living in Izmir.”

  “Then I think we should talk with him.”

  “That’s precisely what he said. First thing tomorrow morning at his office in Izmir.”

  Aryan would have liked to be meeting Malik’s boss under different circumstances, but then again, opportunities were for seizing.