An Aegean April

by Jeffrey Siger

  Andreas picked up the phone. “Yes, Inspector, what can I do for you?”

  “I’ve reconsidered your proposal. I’m under tremendous pressure from my superiors to keep the identity of the third man confidential. He is unrelated to the investigation, but someone with great influence.”

  “I understand all that,” said Andreas. “We face the same considerations here, but I still need to know his identity.”

  “Yes, I understand, and I am going to trust you with information that could ruin my career if it gets out.”

  “Understood, my lips are sealed.” He glanced at Maggie standing in the doorway.

  “Thank you. I will give you my information first as a sign of trust.”

  Andreas picked up a pencil and began tapping it on the desktop. “I appreciate that.”

  “By way of background, the man I’m about to identify had been taken hostage by your killer and brought against his will to the victim’s office as the killer’s means of gaining access to the victim. He is a respected businessman and we’ve cleared him of any involvement in any of this.”

  Andreas tapped the eraser end of the pencil on the desktop. “I’m sure. So what’s his name?”

  “Ivir Zivir.”

  Andreas wrote down the name. “Thank you.”

  “And what is the name of our killer?” asked the inspector.

  Andreas replied, spelling out the name.

  “Strange name.”

  “Sure is.”

  “Thank you. Bye.”

  The inspector hung up before Andreas had the chance to say good-bye. “The poor man’s in a real hurry.”

  “Why did you tell him what you did?” said Maggie.

  “What’s the matter, don’t you trust me to know what I’m doing?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Here, do me a favor and see what you can come up with on this Ivir Zivir character.”

  “Now?”

  Andreas stared at her. “Feel free to put in for overtime.”

  Maggie headed for her desk. “And what will you be doing?”

  Andreas smiled. “Waiting for the inspector to call back.”

  l l l l l

  Thirty minutes later the inspector called back.

  “Kaldis here.”

  “You’re a dishonorable man.”

  “Ah, so you checked out the name.”

  “I trusted you.”

  “Just tell me when you’re done performing for whoever’s in your office.”

  “There’s no one here but me.”

  “Strange, you didn’t strike me as the sort who’d lie to himself. To others, yes, but yourself?”

  “How dare you insult me!” the inspector shouted.

  “As much fun as I’m having with this, let’s cut the bullshit. That name you gave me was phony. You know it and I know it. It was like an American giving John Doe as his name. You could have at least tried to be creative.”

  Silence.

  “Like I was. I really liked my guy’s name.”

  “Mott Leigh Crew?” said the inspector.

  “It rocks.” Andreas laughed. “So, are we done playing games?”

  The inspector sighed. “Malik Tiryaki.”

  Sounds like the same name Tassos got from his source in Turkey. “Tell me about him.”

  “He’s a cousin of the dead man.”

  “Were they in the same business?”

  “Yes.”

  “What the hell’s going on over there in your backyard?”

  “I wish I knew. Looks like there could be a war brewing among refugee smugglers all up and down the coast.”

  “That must put a lot of heat on you.”

  “You have no idea,” said the inspector. “Everyone has a protector, and they’re all letting me know it. All I want to know is who’s swinging the sword.”

  “I can give you that name, but I’m sure you understand I can’t do that until I verify what you just gave me is legit.”

  “Understood. But when can I expect to hear from you?”

  “Tomorrow.” He glanced at Maggie in the doorway. “Everyone’s gone for the day.”

  Maggie gave a fist pump.

  “First thing tomorrow, then. No exceptions.”

  “Absolutely. I’ll speak to you tomorrow,” said Andreas.

  “Thanks, and sorry about our little misunderstanding. You have no idea what it’s like over here these days.”

  Or here.

  Chapter Fifteen

  He slid his hand along her left hip, his body pressed tight up against her from behind, his own hips rocking in rhythm to a moaning he heard in his mind. They lay on their right sides in the deep shadows of the room, sheets kicked off onto the floor, curtains to the bedroom windows open to a cloudless, crescent moon middle of the night.

  It was the third time tonight he’d taken her. The first, soon after he’d returned with Malik from their meeting in the field. He’d made a point of offering her first to Malik, who refused, only to find himself listening to the sounds of another man mating with his wife coming from their bedroom. Later, Aryan made the three of them eat dinner together. That’s when he announced he’d be sleeping in the master bedroom that evening with Deema. Malik said nothing, just finished his meal and went off to a guest bedroom. Their second time had come an hour later.

  Aryan slid his left hand from her hip up to grip her breast. He pulled her back toward him and pressed harder. She groaned and he twisted her over so that he lay mounted on her from behind, ramming hard against her and bringing himself to the verge of––

  BOOM.

  The explosion took out the wall between the bedroom windows, shattering every pane in the process. Aryan grabbed for his gun and raced out the door, leaving Deema screaming in her bed.

  He reached the bottom of the stairs as the second RPG hit the bedroom. He saw Tomislav taking cover in an interior room and yelled, “Get two rifles, they’ll be inside any second.”

  Aryan made his way to the side of the house opposite the blown-out bedroom wall and took up a position close by a door leading to the outside. The lock disappeared in a spray of automatic weapons fire, and the door sprung open followed by two men carrying AK-47s.

  Aryan put a bullet in each man’s head.

  He bent to pick up one man’s rifle when he heard the spurt of a rifle behind him. He dived for the floor and did not move until the firing ended. He looked back to see Tomislav pointing toward the open door at a now dead third man that Aryan had not seen.

  Carefully, Aryan and Tomislav made their way outside. Not a sound. Aryan pointed right, toward the edge of the house, and they crept toward the corner. There, they waited and listened. Still no sound.

  Aryan nodded, and they hugged the side of the house, headed toward the front. Somewhere out there sat someone with a grenade launcher. Aryan had been lucky that the first RPG hit the thick masonry wall instead of crashing through the bedroom window. Otherwise he’d have been dead. He had no desire to test his luck a second time tonight. Enough moonlight shone down to catch any movement against the horizon, but that applied to both sides. If the shooter was out there, let him come to them. Once the sun came up, he’d be the sitting duck target, not them.

  Twenty minutes later, Aryan heard an engine starting about a half-kilometer away. A bit later headlights came on and disappeared down the road. Apparently, the shooter had reached the same conclusion as Aryan.

  He whispered to Tomislav. “Stay here, just in case there’s still someone out there. I’m going back inside to put on some clothes. I’m freezing my ass off running around out here naked.”

  He found Malik standing inside the back door, staring at the three bodies. Then he caught him staring at Aryan’s crotch.

  “What’s on your mind, partner?”

>   “My wife. What’s happened to my wife?”

  Aryan shrugged. “Don’t know.”

  “And my children?”

  Aryan shrugged again. “Do you recognize any of these dead guys?”

  Malik nodded. “Two are sons of my dead cousin, another is their friend.”

  “Brothers of Red Beret?”

  “Red Beret?” asked Malik.

  “The guy who shot at your feet in that field.”

  Malik nodded. “Yes, they’re his brothers.”

  “Well, I guess that means we know who was out there launching RPGs at your bedroom. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to put on some clothes.”

  “It’s your fault for all of this.”

  “Mine? Think again, partner. If I hadn’t been upstairs in your bed, you’d likely be dead right now. They were here to kill you, not me.”

  Aryan watched Malik clench his fists.

  “That is, unless you happened to tell someone that I’d be sleeping with Deema tonight.”

  He patted Malik on the shoulder. “I suggest you figure out what you’re going to tell the police about all this. Of course, you might think you can get rid of these bodies the same as you had your brother-in-law dispose of the three from the night we first met. I caution you, though, that denying them a proper burial might create even bigger problems for you with their families. I leave that to your judgment.” With a second pat to Malik’s shoulder, he headed upstairs.

  At the top of the stairs he hesitated at a sound coming from down the hallway. He slid his feet along the carpet, a gun raised in his hand, toward the sound. He stopped when he recognized it as Deema whispering a story to her children. She must have run to them before the second RPG hit her bedroom.

  Malik would be happy about that.

  l l l l l

  Deema sat on her older son’s bed, an arm clenched tightly around each child, rocking as she told them one story after another, whether they wanted to hear them or not. They are not safe here. No one is safe here. We will all die here.

  l l l l l

  When Andreas got to his office, he found three voice-mail messages from the Turkish inspector, each asking that Andreas call him back immediately. The first message had come in at five in the morning and the most recent thirty minutes ago, at seven, the last one in a decidedly irritated tone.

  Andreas turned on the coffeemaker and looked at his watch. Thirty minutes more until Maggie got in. The inspector hadn’t struck him as the anxious sort. Still, he’d just have to wait until Maggie confirmed with Tassos that the Malik character named by the inspector was the same Malik identified by Tassos’ source. He’d tried reaching Tassos on his own but had no luck. And in light of the elaborate games the inspector had played on the first go-round over names, Andreas wasn’t about to give that information away without confirmation.

  The coffee had just started to brew when his phone rang. He knew who it likely was, but answered anyway. “Kaldis here.”

  “Didn’t you get my messages?”

  “Yes, Inspector, I got them two minutes ago when I walked into my office. Let me tell you straight out, as I said last night, the moment I check out the name you gave me, I’ll give you what I promised you. And that should happen this morning.”

  “What I want to know is what you did with the name I gave you?”

  “I don’t understand,” said Andreas.

  “I want to know who you gave Malik’s name to.”

  Andreas hesitated. “I’m not sure why I should tell you that, but the only person I told was my secretary.”

  “And whom did she tell?”

  “I assume no one. She had no reason to.”

  “I need to know if she told anyone.”

  “Okay,” said an irritated Andreas, “it’s time you tell me what this is all about.”

  “I’ll assume you’re not involved in what I’m about to tell you, though I’m afraid that if my paranoid superiors ever learn that I gave you Malik’s name, they will not give you––or me––the same benefit of the doubt.”

  “Just get to the point,” said Andreas sharply.

  “Approximately eight hours after I gave you Malik’s name, three armed men attacked his home, attempting to kill him and his wife as they slept in their bed.”

  “Holy Mother of God. And you think I had something to do with that?”

  “As I said, if I did, I wouldn’t be telling you this, but you have to agree the coincidence is striking. How would you react if the shoe were on the other foot?”

  Andreas ran the fingers of one hand through his hair. I’d think someone tied into the Turkish police had tipped off the bad guys that Malik was attracting police attention. “What happened to Malik?”

  “The assassination failed. His security guy managed to kill the intruders.”

  “How’d he do that?”

  “An RPG missed its mark, and woke everyone up, allowing security to catch the three breaking into the house.”

  “Did the security guy, by chance, happen to be our guy?”

  “If by ‘our guy’ you mean the man you have yet to identify to me, no. But it was the other man in the photograph, Tomislav, a former Serbian military man.”

  “He works for Malik?” said Andreas. “I thought he’d been a bodyguard for the dead cousin?”

  “He had been, but according to Malik, both he and Tomislav were taken hostage by the third man in that photograph, and when he let them go, Malik asked Tomislav on the spot to work for him as security. At least until the police caught his cousin’s killer. Malik said he needed security because he feared his cousin’s sons might do something irrational. He said they were hotheads who might not realize he was an innocent victim of the same attacker of their father.”

  “Do you believe his story?”

  “Well, the part about the sons proved true. Two of them ended up among the three dead intruders.”

  “Oh, boy.”

  “You’ve got that right. You can’t imagine all the hell that’s broken loose over here. I’d appreciate it if you’d give me the name of the third man in the photo. It will take a lot of heat off me.”

  Andreas shut his eyes. He knew he should wait to confirm this wasn’t another ruse to get the name.

  Sometimes you’ve got to trust your instincts.

  “Alban Kennel.”

  l l l l l

  Portly Man sat reading his newspaper and sipping his coffee in the same hookah café as he did every morning, two doors down from his large marine supply shop on one of Izmir’s main shopping streets. He took no notice of the other customers until one abruptly sat down at his table.

  “Do you mind company?”

  The man stared. “What are you doing here?”

  “We had a deal, remember? A deal that we’d live in peace.”

  “Yes, we have such a deal.”

  Aryan sighed. “Not everyone seems to agree, and that makes me very uneasy.”

  Portly Man put down his paper. “What are you talking about?”

  “Last night, uninvited visitors paid a visit to Malik’s home. Three of them are no longer with us. The fourth I trust you will arrange to soon join them.”

  “You’re making no sense to me.”

  “Assuming your newspaper doesn’t cover it, I’m sure with your contacts in the police, you’ll be able to figure it out quickly enough. And quickly is when I expect you to resolve this dissension in your ranks.” He patted Portly Man’s hand. “Make that our ranks.”

  “What is it you want me to do?”

  Aryan smiled beneath a serpent-like stare. “I could easily do it myself, but I thought it best to ask you to use your influence with the others to take this opportunity to demonstrate your commitment to our agreement, and to provide proof that no one else had anything to do with last night’s b
etrayal of trust.”

  Portly Man reached for his coffee but stopped when he realized his hand was shaking. “I will speak to them.”

  “Fine,” said Aryan, standing. “I expect it resolved today. Enjoy the rest of your morning.”

  Portly Man watched Aryan leave before reaching for his coffee and, holding it with two hands, said a quick prayer.

  Next, he called his cousin on the police force.

  l l l l l

  Maggie, Yianni, and Andreas sat in Andreas’ office staring at television coverage of the Greek Coast Guard caught up in yet another capsized refugee boat-rescue.

  “Our boys deserve a lot of credit,” said Maggie.

  “But all they’ll likely get is blame for whatever goes wrong,” said Yianni.

  “And if they don’t, we will,” said Andreas.

  “It’s the way of the world, boys,” said Maggie. “The public needs someone to blame, otherwise there’s no one left to fault but themselves.”

  “My guess is they’ll pick us if we can’t prove Aryan killed Volandes,” said Andreas.

  “But your investigation will save an innocent man wrongly accused of the murder,” said Maggie.

  “Some would call that soft on crime,” said Yianni.

  “How long do you think before your friend McLaughlin feels compelled to tee off again with the press at refugee smugglers?” asked Andreas.

  “Don’t know,” shrugged Yianni. “I guess it depends on what happens next.”

  “Sure wish I had an answer to that,” said Andreas. “We’ve got a world-class assassin hired to make an example on Lesvos of a prominent adversary of refugee smuggling, running up and down the Turkish coast taking out at least a half-dozen refugee smugglers of various levels of prominence.”

  Yianni smiled. “Maybe he saw the light and went over to our side.”