Blood & Gold

by Leo Kanaris

  ‘Can you prove that?’

  ‘Only by getting to his studio, his computer, his phone.’

  ‘That’s not going to happen.’

  ‘Maybe not now. But one day.’

  ‘I don’t think you realise, Mr Zafiris, how well-protected that man is.’

  ‘Makes no difference. You’re onto him. Sotiriou is onto him. His life is a disaster waiting to happen…’

  ‘I’m not convinced,’ said Karás.

  ‘Will you give it a try?’

  ‘If you wish.’

  ‘Set up a meeting. Somewhere public. Not one of his nightclubs!’

  ‘I’ll do my best.’

  ‘OK. Thanks for your help. Let me know what he says.’

  George put down the phone.

  ‘What do you plan to do now?’ asked Haris.

  ‘Right now? Have another beer. Sip it slowly with my feet up on that sofa. In fifteen minutes’ time I want you to tell me how to get into that fortress on Leoforos Kymis where they tied you up in parcel tape and find the evidence I’m looking for.’

  ‘You’ve lost me. What’s this got to do with Leoforos Kymis?’

  ‘EAP. Efthimios is E. Andonis is A. Pavlos, the lunatic, is P. Remember?’

  ‘The car dealer?’

  ‘Correct.’

  ‘You want me to go back there?’

  ‘We’ll go together.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Why not?’

  Haris said, ‘It’s a death trap.’

  ‘For the ignorant. But you’ve told me you know how to deal with those situations.’

  ‘I do. But it’s going to take a bigger team than we’ve got.’

  George met his gaze. ‘I want you to tell me how to do it,’ he said. ‘Whatever it takes.’

  Haris fetched another beer for George and one for himself. Then he sat down with a pen and a sheet of paper. George closed his eyes and tried to relax.

  Some time later Haris tapped him on the shoulder. The beer was untouched on the floor next to the sofa. He had fallen asleep.

  ‘This is a plan of the premises. As I recall.’

  George examined it. There was the showroom, the alley, the side door, the L-shaped corridor, Pavlos Marangos’s office. Also shown were a pair of rooms and a door at the back which he had not seen.

  ‘Where does the alley go?’ asked George.

  ‘There’s a parking lot behind the building,’ said Haris. ‘And that connects with the woodyard. As do the offices.’

  ‘Can we get in?’

  ‘We can. The question is, can we get out again?’

  ‘OK. Tell me, how many people do we need?’

  ‘Depends. If all we want is hard drives, computers, documents, we should go in at night when they’re on minimum staff. But we’ll still need a safe-breaker and a computer engineer. Plus a vehicle, a driver on standby, a lookout, three or four guys to carry stuff, three or four to deal with the security. That’s twelve. But if you want to go in during office hours and talk to these people, exercise any kind of leverage, we need more. Say fifteen.’

  George waved these figures away. ‘That’s a full-scale raid. I’m thinking of a neater operation. At night. Three, four in the morning. Knock out the security guards, sneak in, spend a couple of hours in the offices, grab whatever looks good, and get out.’

  Haris looked sceptical. ‘That’s you and how many others?’

  ‘Two? Maybe even one.’

  ‘No chance.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘You don’t spend two hours in a place. That’s suicide. And they’ve got more security than you imagine. The Russians are the tip of the iceberg.’

  ‘You mean electronic security? That can be jammed. Or we cut off the power supply.’

  Haris gave him a pitying look. ‘Ever heard of back-up systems?’

  ‘Of course. But you’re the electrical man. You know how these things work. You can disable the system.’

  ‘With a plan of the installation, access to the wiring and plenty of time, I can do it. But they’re not going to give us that, are they?’

  ‘What about just going for the jugular? Find the main power supply? Cut that, and we’re in business?’

  ‘Man, I’m surprised you’re not dead.’

  ‘To be honest I’ve never tried anything like this before.’

  ‘Really? You fooled me!’

  ‘There’s no need to be sarcastic.’

  ‘OK, I’m telling you this is not a place for beginners. Start with an old people’s home if you want to do housebreaking. I tell you, if the power supply goes down, that place is going to erupt like a volcano! Cutting the power will trigger an alarm run on a separate supply. You’ll be toast before you’ve even got to the back door.’

  ‘So what’s it going to take? A full-scale police raid?’

  ‘That would avoid the other major problem.’

  ‘Which is?’

  ‘The legal aspect. This is breaking and entering, to say the least of it. Even if you find the best proof in the world you’ll be a criminal yourself. And that makes you vulnerable.’

  ‘You may have a point there.’

  ‘I have several points. This is a very bad idea, Mr Zafiris. It’s crap, from end to end. Forget it!’

  ‘I can’t forget it,’ said George. ‘We’re so close. Just to give up because of an alarm system is pathetic. It’s defeatist.’

  ‘The truth is,’ said Haris, ‘we’re doing fine. Just by talking like this you and I have gained several decades of life.’

  ‘I’ll just have to go in and see the bastard myself,’ said George.

  ‘Please no!’

  ‘Why not? I’ll talk to him. After all, what can he do?’

  ‘He’s got quite a choice. Break your legs. Throw you out of a window. Tie your hands and drop you in the sea… Let’s stop discussing this now. We’ve got it all upside down. You’re suggesting such crazy things…’

  ‘Since when was talking reasonably to a man a crazy thing?’

  ‘These guys have no respect for life. Mario got in their way, they killed him. You get in their way, they’ll kill you. There’s no “talking reasonably”. You’re the enemy, you die.’

  George considered this. Haris was right, but it annoyed him to admit it. His apprentice had taken charge. George felt the need to re-establish his authority.

  ‘Listen, Haris, I appreciate your opinion, your concern. But what do you propose we do? Remember, I can’t go home, can’t work, can’t do anything until these bastards are out of the way!’

  ‘Of course,’ Haris agreed. ‘It’s tricky. But Colonel Sotiriou has promised to get this arrest order lifted.’

  ‘In a week or two. Which probably means a month or two, or even a year, the speed those guys work. So what do I do while I’m waiting? Sit here and watch TV? Eating your friend’s sausages?’

  ‘No,’ said Haris calmly. ‘Go to Andros. You have a place there. Let your wife look after you. Get some rest. After a few days, start working on the case against Andonis and his brothers. Marshal your evidence. As soon as Sotiriou gives the all-clear you can reappear. Hand in your report. Let the police deal with it. That way we all survive.’

  ‘That sounds absolutely fine, Haris, but there’s a problem. A big problem. The evidence – if it exists at all – is in the hands of EAP. And they’re not going to give it to us. In fact they’re going to destroy it. As soon as they can. The clock is ticking.’

  ‘So what do you think we should do?’

  ‘Go in and turn the place over.’

  ‘Despite the risks?’

  ‘Either that or give up. And I’m not giving up.’

  Haris seemed lost in thought.

  George’s phone rang.

  ‘Mr Zafiris, it’s Nikos Karás. I’ve spoken to Andonis.’

  ‘What did he say?’

  ‘Let me give you his exact words. “Zafiris can go to hell.” ’

  ‘That’s nice.’

  ‘He also sai
d, “If you really know where he is, Lieutenant Karás, and you’re not pulling my dick, go and arrest him. That’s your duty. He’s on the run from the law.” ’

  ‘I hope you told him where to stick his opinions.’

  ‘I thought it best not to provoke him further,’ said Karás earnestly.

  Haris looked gloomy. ‘This is getting worse and worse,’ he said. ‘He’ll find you before long.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Through your phone.’

  ‘He doesn’t have the number.’

  ‘No, but he has a number for Karás, which will inevitably have a link to you.’

  ‘How long will that take?’

  ‘Not long. A few minutes.’

  ‘So this safe house…?’

  ‘Is not safe any more. Let’s go. We’re going to dump that phone and get you to Andros.’

  ‘Now?’

  ‘Right now!’

  ‘I’d rather go after that bastard right now.’

  Haris said, ‘No!’ Very firmly.

  ‘Who the hell is in charge here?’ cried George.

  Haris stood up. ‘Come on, Mr Zafiris. Get your bag. We’re leaving.’

  35 End Game

  George was wondering what would happen next.

  He found it hard to explain to Zoe why he was in Andros. At first he said he needed a rest. This was true enough, only he did not rest. She would find him awake in the early hours, agitated or staring at the ceiling in a trance of gloomy thought.

  ‘You’re worrying,’ she said.

  ‘It’s nothing important.’

  ‘Why don’t you tell me about it?’

  ‘You won’t be able to help,’ he said.

  She did not press him, letting him talk or be silent as he chose.

  Alone, he would go over the two cases, Filiotis and Kenteri, sometimes on paper, sometimes in his mind. There seemed to be an overlap between them, a join. The mysterious pornographer Stelios lived in that join, held the key to everything, but he was unapproachable. It was pointless, as Haris said, to risk their lives on an ill-planned raid, yet there was no sign of a better plan emerging. Haris was completely silent. George wondered what he was doing. He was used to taking action to solve problems and this idleness frustrated him.

  One afternoon, thinking about what Karás had said, he decided to explore the website of Black Velvet Privé in case it gave him any help. Among endless shots of naked girls he was surprised to find a ‘Tribute to the great musical artist Keti Kenteri’. When he clicked on this, a short film began. With a soundtrack of Bach, it showed various sunset scenes – the Acropolis of Athens, the theatre at Epidavros, the stadium at Olympia – dissolving in and out of a sequence of Keti playing her violin on a panoramic hill-top in Athens.

  It was true, as Merkulov said, that she played exquisitely. And, allowing for the fact that this was the work of a director of pornography, the film was not too horrifying to watch. Keti’s long backless dress emphasised her figure but was elegant rather than erotic. The hackneyed images of Greece did little except advertise the director’s lack of imagination, yet the film somehow survived them. It was even quite moving. Only at the end did it strike a note of kitsch, as a title in gold copperplate spun across the screen giving Keti’s year of birth, 1980, her death, 2015, and the traditional words of condolence, zoe se mas, ‘life to us’.

  George watched it through twice. At the end of the second viewing he was intrigued by a detail. The view of Athens from the hill-top. Which hill was it? He watched again. Behind Keti’s head, for just a second as her hair moved, a distinctive form: the fez-shaped rock above the quarry in Psyhikó. He knew now exactly where that sequence was shot: the Tourkovounia, where Keti had died.

  A thought occurred to him. He pursued it. There she was, walking along, playing her violin, near a cliff edge, at sunset. The great pornographer directing the action. With a sick feeling George imagined what happened next. Just one false step…

  Someone had said that.

  Who?

  He racked his brains.

  Who had he seen recently? Sotiriou? Haris? Dimitri?

  Suddenly it came to him. Vladimir Merkulov… He had said virtually those words at the airport.

  George grabbed his phone and called Anna Kenteri.

  ‘I don’t want to hear from you,’ she said.

  ‘Too bad. I have to tell you something.’

  ‘If you want to talk to me, do it through a lawyer.’

  ‘You don’t need a lawyer for this,’ he said. ‘I’m telling you for your own good. I know how Keti died. Go to your friend Andonis and ask him. He saw it happen. Vladimir Merkulov also knows what happened. Ask him. Don’t let Andonis fob you off with lies.’

  ‘Paris killed her,’ she said sullenly.

  ‘Anna, that’s not true. Andonis faked that recording.’

  ‘Why would he do that?’

  ‘Because he’s a shit. A shit and a fool. That’s the only explanation I can give you.’

  ‘That’s impossible,’ she said.

  ‘Just ask him! See what he says.’

  She hung up.

  He spoke next to Haris, and told him to contact Colonel Sotiriou. ‘Ask him to ring me on this number. From a safe line. I have important news.’

  The Colonel was on the phone within five minutes.

  ‘What have you got?’

  ‘Is it OK to talk?’ asked George.

  ‘Fine. This is a private line.’

  George described the film and his recollection of Merkulov’s words.

  ‘It’s not proof,’ said the Colonel. ‘As it stands, it’s only your guess.’

  ‘We may never get proof,’ George replied. ‘But a statement from Merkulov would come close.’

  ‘We must talk to him. Can you arrange that?’

  ‘I can try. But who should talk to him? You or me? Or Nikos Karás?’

  ‘It should be you in the first instance. Not a police officer. That will put him on his guard.’

  ‘I may have to come in to Athens in order to meet him.’

  ‘Do it.’

  ‘I don’t want to be arrested.’

  ‘You overestimate our powers. As long as you don’t go home you’ll be all right.’

  ‘How much longer is this exile going to last?’

  ‘I can’t tell you. Be patient. Just get hold of Merkulov and let me know what he says.’

  George found the Russian’s business card among his papers and rang the phone number under his name.

  ‘Hello?’A woman’s voice answered.

  ‘Vladimir Merkulov please.’

  ‘Mr Merkulov is not here.’

  ‘How do I reach him? This is very important. Urgent. My name is George Zafiris.’

  ‘Wait please.’

  A moment later Merkulov was on the phone.

  ‘Mr Zafiris, what’s the problem? Are you in Moscow?’

  ‘No, still in Greece.’

  ‘How can I help?’

  ‘Are you in Russia or in Greece?’

  ‘I’m in Athens.’

  ‘Can we meet?’

  ‘Do you have some business to discuss?’

  ‘I do. And it’s extremely urgent. How about this evening?’

  ‘Can you tell me what it’s about?’

  ‘Keti Kenteri.’

  ‘I see. Well, I have an hour to spare at 7.00 pm. I suggest the lobby of the Hilton Hotel.’

  Merkulov was sitting in an easy chair, a pair of horn-rimmed spectacles on his nose, reading the Financial Times. George had been debating on the journey whether to tell him the truth. He heard two voices inside his head, one advising frankness, the other caution. As he entered the lobby he was still not sure which to choose.

  They took a table in the bar and Merkulov asked how he could help.

  George said, ‘Before we talk business I need to know more about your operation.’

  Merkulov looked surprised. ‘You are in research, Mr Zafiris. I expect you to know everything before
we meet.’

  ‘Of course.’ George was taken aback momentarily. ‘I know about the hotels, resorts and malls.’

  ‘And the philanthropic projects?’

  ‘No. Tell me about those.’

  ‘I focus on three areas. Green energy, education and health.’

  ‘Was Keti Kenteri one of your philanthropic projects?’

  ‘No. She was just…’ He threw up his hands. ‘Just Keti.’

  The waiter approached their table.

  Merkulov said, ‘I like a glass of champagne at this time of day. Will you have one too, Mr Zafiris?’

  ‘I’d prefer a beer. Fix please.’

  ‘Of course. The bill to me please, waiter. And bring us some fresh pistachios. What were we saying? You asked about Keti.’

  ‘Did you try to help her?’

  ‘In what way?’

  ‘With her career.’

  ‘I hired her a few times, made some introductions, helped her think in a more commercial way.’

  ‘Her husband was against that.’

  ‘So it seems.’

  ‘Did she talk about that to you?’

  ‘Just once. It was clearly a problem between them. And the whole family.’

  ‘I wondered if there was jealousy too.’

  ‘Plenty! Everybody lusted after Keti.’

  ‘Including you?’

  Merkulov bristled slightly. ‘I thought of her as a friend. And an artist. Did you ever hear her perform?’

  ‘I’ve only seen a film of her.’

  ‘Which one?’

  ‘She’s playing on top of a hill.’

  Merkulov’s look darkened. ‘That film!’

  ‘What’s wrong? I thought it was pretty good.’

  ‘Not when you know…’ Merkulov stopped himself.

  ‘Know what?’ said George.

  Merkulov sighed heavily. ‘It’s not worth going into now.’

  ‘I know Andonis Marangós directed the film.’

  ‘He did.’

  ‘I thought maybe you worked with him and his brothers?’

  Merkulov was becoming more cautious by the second. ‘Why do you ask?’

  ‘I’ve had dealings with them myself.’

  ‘And?’

  Now, George realised, his line of caution was getting harder to pursue.

  ‘I don’t like what I see,’ he ventured.

  Merkulov was neutral in his response. ‘OK,’ he said. ‘We can talk about that if you like.’