Deadline in Athens kj-1

by Petros Markaris

  "I heard it on the news. Young women. Tragic!"

  "We're trying to make sure there won't be any more victims, so we're watching the homes of all the reporters who work at Hellas Channel. That's why we want to know when they're at home, especially in the evening and at night. Yesterday evening, for example, did you happen to see him coming or leaving?"

  "Why don't you ask him?"

  "Reporters are strange people. They don't want the police under their feet. In any case, we're trying to be discreet, not to alarm anyone."

  My reply apparently convinced her because she gave it some thought. "What can I tell you?" she said eventually. "In the morning he leaves around eleven. I know because I'm often coming back from doing my shopping at that time and we bump into each other on the landing. I rarely see him in the evening."

  "When you do see him, what time is it?"

  "Between six-thirty and seven. But yesterday I didn't see him at all."

  I was about to go when she suddenly remembered something that I would rather she had forgotten. "The day before yesterday, there was another one of your men here asking questions," she said.

  Sotiris's inquiries that had made Delopoulos and Petratos furious. "Yes, it was following the first murder. We'd suggested even then to Mr. Petratos and to the others to let us have their houses watched, but they'd refused. The result was that we had the second murder. That's why we decided to watch them discreetly, without them knowing, till we've found the murderer. You realize, I'm sure, that if there's a third victim, we'll have everyone down on our heads."

  "Ah, what a line of work to be in!" she said with understanding.

  I took my leave of her, but went away with empty hands. The same was true of the other flats. Most people didn't even ask me in but kept me standing at the door. And their answers were all alike: "I don't know," "I rarely see him," "Ask him yourself."

  The higher I went in the building, the more my hopes fell, but I'd started to get the bit between my teeth. On the one hand, there was Kostarakou's murder and, on the other, my set-to with the gang of three-Ghikas, Delopoulos, and Petratos-not to mention Sotiropoulos, who kept sticking his nose in. All this had dented my pride. I wanted to get some evidence so I could bring Petratos in for questioning and begin to put the screws to him.

  I had reached the fourth floor and was talking to a tall, lanky woman with strikingly thin lips. She told me that she minded her own business and wasn't in the slightest bit interested in what her neighbors did. This sermon was interrupted by a tall, gangly kid with shaved head and earring, who pushed past her to get out.

  He'd obviously heard us talking, because he turned and said to me: "For what it's worth, his car wasn't in its parking place yesterday around six when I was putting mine in the parking lot."

  "What business is that of yours?" said the woman crossly.

  "What does it matter, Mum? The man asked a question, I knew the answer, and I told him. When I don't know the answers at school, you go crazy. Now, when I do know them, you still go crazy."

  The woman went inside, slamming the door behind her. Her rudeness didn't bother me at all. In fact, she was doing me a favor, as I wanted to get her son on his own.

  "Are you sure his car was gone?" I said.

  "Look, he's the only one in the building with a black Renegade. It's a really cool set of wheels and whenever I see it, I can't take my eyes off it. I've tried to persuade the old man to get me one, but he won't hear of it. `What's wrong with the Starlet? It's a great little car,' he al ways says. Anyway, yesterday when I parked the Starlet, the Renegade wasn't there."

  "Let's go down to the garage so you can show me where he parks it." I wanted to take a look myself.

  "Sure, come on," he said.

  It was a spacious garage, easily big enough for twenty cars. Most of the parking spots were empty. Only five of them were occupied, one by the black Renegade. The car to the right of it was covered over; the space on the left side was empty.

  "There it is!" the kid shouted in admiration. "Cool, eh?"

  I looked at my watch. It was already four. It seems he came back late in the afternoon, took a rest, and returned to the studio around seven-thirty. It wasn't at all improbable that the woman in the flat next to Petratos's had rung his bell and told him absolutely everything I'd said. I couldn't care less. Let him phone Delopoulos and tell him that I was still harassing him. I walked around the Renegade, but saw nothing from the outside that looked unusual. I went closer and looked through the window. There were some videocassettes on the passenger seat. The backseat was strewn with newspapers and magazines. That was all. The kid walked over to the Starlet.

  "Are you staying here?" he called.

  "No, I'm coming."

  "As I turned to walk to the exit, something under the covered car caught my eye. I bent down and saw a length of wire, carelessly wound up.

  "Just come here a second!" I called to the young man.

  He turned and looked askance at me. "My mum was right, I should have kept my mouth shut," he said, irritated.

  "Come here, I said!" My tone brooked no objection, and he came over.

  "What's that there, under the car?"

  Curious, he bent down and took hold of the wire. "A piece of wire," he said, not giving a damn. He had no idea that this wire might possibly lead him to court as a prosecution witness to testify that he had found it next to Petratos's car.

  "How long has it been there?"

  "How should I know?" That's Kalafatis's car. He died three months ago. It's just been standing there ever since. Why, is it important?"

  "Important. Of course it's important. Don't you know that wire can puncture the tires? And you want a Renegade." I took the wire from him. He shot me a venomous look and went to his Starlet. He started it up, opened the garage door using a magnetic card, and sped off. I followed him out, while the door slowly closed behind me.

  I sat in my Mirafiori and looked at the wire, which I'd put on the seat beside me. It seems I'd underestimated Petratos. The second murder may have been premeditated, but the murder weapon had again been something at hand, something chosen at random, as was the case with Karayoryi's murder. He'd seen the wire as he was getting into his car; he'd cut off a piece and later used it to strangle Kostarakou before pocketing it and leaving. If it had been a knife or a gun, we would have been able to prove that it was his or find out where he'd got it from. But the wire? You could find it in any hardware store, in homes, all over the place. How could anyone prove that the murder had been committed with that particular piece of wire, tossed down next to his car? Any two-bit lawyer would be able to get the evidence thrown out immediately. Perhaps that was why he hadn't bothered to get rid of the rest of the wire. It had been lying there for three months under the dead man's car. "If I'd killed her, would I have left the wire lying there? Wouldn't I have gotten rid of it?" Most certainly, the judge would agree, you don't find murderers as stupid as that, not even made to order.

  It took me around a quarter of an hour to get from Aghia Paraskevi to Hellas Channel in Spata. There was only Sperantzas in the newsroom. He was preparing the six o'clock news bulletin. He'd lost his resentful expression and stared at me with a nervous, frightened look.

  "Who's going to be next?" he said. "Are we all going to get caught up in this?"

  I made no effort to reassure him. Having him frightened suited me. "Did no one wonder where Kostarakou was when she didn't turn up at the studio yesterday evening?"

  "Why should she turn up here? She came, handed over her report, already edited, and left at around five. She'd have come back only if something special had come up for the nine o'clock news. We don't clock in here."

  "So not even Petratos is here all the time?"

  "Not even him. He leaves around four and comes back between seven and seven-thirty."

  "What time did he get back yesterday?" He looked at me inquisitively. "Don't go getting any ideas," I told him. "I'm just trying to form a clear picture."
/>
  "I have no idea. But he wasn't back at seven, which is when I left."

  I left him to get on with his work in peace. On my way back from Spata, I dropped in at the lab and gave the wire to Dimitris. He took a look at it, and when I saw him shrug his shoulders, my fears were confirmed.

  "We can examine it," he said, "but as soon as the prosecutor gets hold of it, he'll chuck it straight out. It's easy for us to prove that he strangled her with a wire like this one, but practically impossible for us to prove that the murder was committed with this one that you found in the garage."

  "I know," I replied, disappointed all the same. "But examine it anyway.

  A wind had kicked up and the air smelled like an autumn downpour. As I drove back to the office, I reflected that everything pointed to Petratos, but I had no evidence. If it had been anyone else, I would have hauled them down to the station and put the screws on until they confessed. But for Petratos, I needed Ghikas's okay. And I didn't think he'd give it to me.

  CHAPTER 23

  I hurried to be in time for the nine o'clock news. Kostarakou's murder was sure to be the main story, and I didn't want to miss it. I got my breath back as I walked into the living room.

  Adriani was in her usual place, clutching the remote control. I walked in front of her to sit in the other armchair. She pretended not to see me. Her eyes remained fixed on the screen. I shot a quick glance at her and found it all very amusing. I knew how much it rankled her not to be able to hear the news about Kostarakou firsthand and to have to make do with the news on TV like a common mortal. She'd lost her privileged position, but she accepted it with dignity, I had to give her that. She maintained her self-respect and wasn't going to allow her curiosity to get the better of her pride.

  Kostarakou's place. The living room where she'd been found murdered. All around were papers on the floor and scattered books, just as we'd found it. Only the body had been taken away. In its place was a chalk outline. The newscaster wore his classic, sorrowful expression, but for the very first time he convinced me that his regret was genuine. The words came slower and fainter out of his mouth. He held his hands out in the usual sign of despair. Even his tailored jacket seemed to be sagging at the shoulders.

  "Unfortunately, at this moment in time, we have no further information, ladies and gentlemen," he said. "The police believe the two murders are connected and are continuing their investigations with all possible urgency under the direct supervision of the chief of Athens security, Superintendent Ghikas."

  Because I'd come out on top in the matter of Petratos, Ghikas was elbowing me aside, to get back his own. Now he was taking charge, and I would get pushed into the wings. Not that it hurt my pride, it simply bothered me that as of the very next day, I'd have to report to him and get his permission for my every move.

  I'd become absorbed in my thoughts and was no longer concentrating on the news. I came around when I suddenly saw Petratos on the screen, beside the newscaster.

  "Good evening, Nestor," the newcaster said. "For the second time in just a few days, the Hellas Channel has suffered a shattering blow. First Yanna Karayoryi, and now Martha Kostarakou, too, has come to a sad end at the hands of a ruthless killer who remains at large."

  "As you say, Pavlos," Petratos said, "in the space of just a few days, our channel has suffered two devastating losses."

  In the past, when two people patted each other's back like that, we called it mutual adulation and asked them what club they belonged to. Now we call it journalism.

  "I'd like your assessment of the way the investigation is going, Nestor," the newscaster said. "How soon can we hope for some results? I ask because, as you know, our channel is receiving thousands of telephone calls every day from viewers anxious to find out what's happening, and we owe them an answer."

  "I'll tell you what I think, Pavlos." Petratos paused a theatrical moment to show that he was thinking. "There's an upside and a downside. The upside is that the chief of Athens security, Superintendent Ghikas, has decided to take charge of the investigations personally. I regret to have to say that the investigations until now had taken a completely wrong turn and valuable time has been lost. I don't know whether the ministry intends to apportion blame for this negligence, but at least we can now be hopeful that the investigations will at last move in the right direction."

  Suddenly, Adriani threw down the remote control and stormed out of the room. She continued to sulk, but this was her way of showing how angry she was at what she'd just heard. I stayed where I was. I reckoned that I would be lucky if I avoided suspension.

  "And what is the downside?" the newscaster said.

  Petratos sighed, as if the answer he was about to give was tormenting him. "If Kolakoglou is the murderer, and this possibility is seriously being looked into by the police, then we're dealing with a psychopathic killer. It seems he didn't only hate Yanna Karayoryi. He hates all reporters because he believes they wronged him, and he is killing out of revenge. If you look at it like that, it is only natural that he should be striking back first against our channel, because it was our channel that brought him to justice. Don't forget that the resolution of the Kolakoglou case was one of Hellas Channel's outstanding journalistic success stories."

  "So what you're saying is that we're all in danger?" He said it as if Kolakoglou were standing behind him, ready to cut his throat.

  "That's what I said before that the police lost valuable time. They allowed Kolakoglou to circulate freely even though they knew, from the first time they arrested him, that he was a psychopath. We have to hope that from now on they will be more methodical in their work."

  The newscaster thanked him and Petratos departed from the screen. You underestimated him, Sotiropoulos, I thought to myself. Both you and Karayoryi underestimated him. Not only did he not try to justify himself for getting it wrong about Kolakoglou, he even upgraded him, presenting him now as a psychopathic killer. How could you explain to the public that a psychopathic killer always kills in the same way; it's his trademark. He doesn't use first a lamp stand, then a piece of wire, and then a chainsaw. That said, Ghikas was right about one thing. We should have caught Kolakoglou and put him behind bars. We'd have found some peace. Just as I was thinking that the next day Thanassis was going to get a rough time of it, the phone rang.

  "Did you hear?" Ghikas didn't even bother saying his name.

  "Yes, I heard," I said, sharply.

  "In half an hour, I want you in the minister's office and you'll hear the rest," he said, and hung up.

  I began to understand that things were more serious than I had imagined. It seemed that, after all, Delopoulos would succeed in getting me dismissed. They'd send me to take charge of some suburban station, investigating claims of theft, dealing with calls reporting dis turbances of the peace, or settling disputes in car crashes. I heard Adriani setting the table in the kitchen, and I was filled with a desire to talk to her, to tell her where I was going and what was awaiting me. But something held me back at the last moment. Perhaps it was my lousy pride. I didn't want her to think I was talking to her out of weakness, just because I was in need of a kind word and a little encouragement. But that's exactly what I wanted. I slammed the door behind me so she'd know that I'd left.

  From Hymettou Avenue to Eratosthenous Street, I didn't meet with any traffic, but I got stuck on Vassileos Konstantinou Avenue. Then, on Mesogheion Avenue, the cars were bumper-to-bumper and the drivers blew off steam by making frequent use of their horns. I arrived at the Ministry of Public Order on Katechaki Avenue a quarter of an hour late.

  "Inspector Haritos. To see the minister," I told the young guard on duty.

  He consulted the list in front of him and with a "Go straight in, Inspector," he let me drive in.

  I came out of the elevator and almost ran down the hall, as if one minute's less delay was of any importance. But I was in a hurry to get it over with.

  When she heard my name, the secretary said: "Go straight in. They're waiting
for you."

  Compared to Delopoulos's three-room suite, the minister's office was a closet with a hall. As soon as I entered, I found the Holy Trinity there waiting for me. Minister, Ghikas, Delopoulos-Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. The minister and Delopoulos were side by side on the sofa, as if to make it clear to me that they were close friends. Ghikas was sitting in the armchair next to the minister, and all three had their eyes fixed on me.

  "I'm sorry I'm late, but there was a lot of traffic."

  "Sit down, Inspector." The minister pointed to the empty armchair, but his expression told me that he'd have preferred to keep me standing.

  The scene spoke for itself. Delopoulos wanted my head on a plate; the minister wanted to humor him in order to keep in with him. As for Ghikas, he had his own ambitions and didn't want to go against them. I didn't know how it would end, but I did know that I wasn't going to get out of there in one piece.

  "What's happening with the investigation into the murders of the two Hellas Channel reporters, Inspector Haritos?" the minister said. "Of late, I've heard nothing but complaints about you."

  Ghikas was trying as best he could to avoid my eyes, but because he was facing me, he didn't know where to look. In the end, he directed his gaze above and behind me, to where the wall met the ceiling. He was visibly uncomfortable. On the other hand, Delopoulos had his gaze fixed on me and didn't hide his satisfaction. Perhaps this collective assault was their mistake. Because when things are in the balance, you take things gently, you make tactical withdrawals, even bow and scrape. But when you're up against it with your back to the wall, you jump straight in and throw caution to the wind. I decided to come out with everything and let them suspend me if they wanted. At least I would have the satisfaction of a heroic last stand.

  "The investigation is proceeding slowly, as usually happens in such cases, Minister. But at least it's proceeding."

  "From what I've heard, it's on the wrong track. Superintendent Ghikas gave you a clear order to arrest Kolakoglou, which you ignored in order to concentrate on other things."