Prey on Patmos

by Jeffery Siger

  “Disgusting, that old man over there with those two young girls.”

  Obviously, Katerina had caught the subject of his interest. “Jealous are we, my love?”

  “Not of them. They’re classless, and,” she gave what must have been her most coquettish, cleavage-emphasizing smile, “I’m sure lousy in bed.”

  He smiled, and squeezed her thigh. “I’m sure.”

  Suddenly, faces began turning and several people headed toward the velvet rope, led by the owner. Paparazzi started flashing away.

  Vladimir gestured for the attention of one of his bodyguards. “Find out what’s going on.”

  Katerina put her hand on Vladimir’s. “I like it when you touch me like that.”

  He smiled and held her hand.

  The bodyguard was back. “Nothing to worry about, sir. It’s just a pretty woman everyone seems to know.”

  “Really, I think she should meet me.”

  “I don’t think it will be a problem, sir.”

  “Why’s that?”

  He turned and pointed to a couple the owner was leading toward the VIP table across from them, as two members of the club’s staff hurriedly relocated the obnoxious fat guy and his two ladies to a place on the terrace.

  Vladimir stared at the woman: ice-blue eyes, long auburn hair, almost as tall as he, and more gorgeous than a dream. He pulled his hand away from Katerina’s, waved to the couple, and said in English. “Andreas, my friend, how nice to see you again. Please, come join us.”

  He turned to Katerina. “Please, move over to make room for your friends.”

  Katerina’s anger was obvious. “She is not a friend of mine.”

  “Too bad, then perhaps you should leave.” It was time for him to reassert control over the here and now and all its beings.

  The gorgeous woman smiled at him, said in perfect English, “Thank you very much, but we’re expecting friends,” turned away, and sat down in the power seat at the next table. “Darling,” she said, waving to Andreas and still speaking English, “Come sit here,” patting the seat next to her. People started flocking to her table.

  Andreas shrugged and said to Vladimir and Katerina, “What can I do, but please, won’t the two of you join us? I’d love for you to meet Barbara.”

  Vladimir paused and drew in a breath. He was the one who gave audiences. He stared at Andreas, then glanced up at the cross, and brought his eyes down so that they lingered on that gorgeous woman. He willed her to catch his eyes, but she never looked his way. Vladimir swallowed and smiled. “It would be our pleasure.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Big dogs ruled. So when Vladimir moved over to Barbara’s table everyone made room for him to sit beside her, on the other side from Andreas. Katerina pushed herself in next to Vladimir, but she might as well have been in Siberia for all the attention he paid her. He kept trying to start a conversation with Barbara but she treated him as if he were a waiter pressing for her order, and kept leaning forward to speak to her friends around the table in Greek.

  Andreas kept a sideways watch on the Russian’s eyes. They hadn’t moved from Barbara since he sat down. Every time she leaned forward he stared at her face, every time she sat back to laugh or sip her wine he closed them as if inhaling the scent of her hair. Rarely did his eyes stray down to her backless, turquoise sundress. A feat Andreas admired, considering his own inability to resist peeking at her virtually exposed breasts far more than he’d like Lila to know.

  Barbara had deflected Vladimir’s overtures enough times to make him look frustrated, but hopefully not enough to make him decide to give up and leave. Andreas put his hand on Barbara’s bare back and gently nudged her forward. Then waved to Vladimir to lean in, over her back. His face was there in an instant.

  Andreas shrugged and said in English, “I’m sorry that everyone is speaking Greek.”

  “Don’t worry, it’s no problem.”

  Andreas knew he wasn’t serious. Men like Vladimir never expected to be left out of any conversation. “Still, I’m sure you’d be more gracious in your country.”

  Vladimir smiled, sat up, and said something in Russian to one of his bodyguards hovering nearby. In seconds three bottles of ice-cold vodka appeared, shots were poured, and lifted in a toast. “To Greece,” Vladimir said.

  “To Russia,” added Andreas.

  The two men smiled at each other, clinked glasses, did the same with Barbara, and downed their shots. That became their ritual over the next hour and a half. Vodka shots separated by animated conversation in English over Barbara’s naked back, with both men gesturing and touching her in the process. She didn’t seem to mind; it was as if she didn’t even notice.

  It now was five thirty in the morning and the place was jammed. Vladimir’s head was halfway across Barbara’s back, his hand down about her waist, just resting there, until needed for a gesture. Both men clearly were feeling the vodka.

  “So my friend, what was it you wanted to ask me?”

  Andreas smiled. “I see Katerina can keep a secret.”

  Vladimir laughed. “Yes, so I’ve noticed.” They slapped high fives and Vladimir let his hand slide along Barbara’s back to its resting place below. “No, really, if I can help you, it would be my honor.”

  Andreas shook his head. “No reason to get you involved. The investigation has been shut down. No one wants to touch it.”

  “Sounds interesting.”

  “Too interesting I’m afraid. But once I caught the three Serbian bastards who killed the monk, no one wanted to go further with it. Case closed.”

  “Was that why you wanted to talk to me, about the Serbs?” He gestured with his head to one of his men to pour another round. His hand never moved from Barbara’s back.

  “No, I was more interested in another guy.”

  “What guy?”

  “I don’t know, the dead monk had some press clippings on him in Serbian about a war criminal who died years ago in Switzerland. I thought you might know somebody who could tell us about the guy in the clippings.”

  “Why would you care about a dead war criminal?”

  “The question is, ‘Why would an old monk care about a dead war criminal?’”

  They lifted their shots, clinked, and drank. Thankfully, thought Andreas, Barbara had stopped doing shots a half hour ago.

  Andreas leaned in closer over Barbara’s back. “Frankly, Vladimir, I wanted your help in getting some of your boys back home to take a look at what we found on the dead monk’s computer. He was trying to prove Russians were behind all of the Greek Church’s troubles on Mount Athos.” Andreas sat back up. “But what the hell, I left the stuff at Barbara’s. Doesn’t matter anymore anyway.” He poured himself another shot. “No one wants to find out if all this ‘blame the Russians’ talk is for real.” He chugged the drink. “Or who might be behind it.”

  Vladimir stared at Andreas, and slowly stroked Barbara’s back.

  Andreas said nothing more. Anything else would be overkill. He knew Vladimir was sober enough to comprehend everything he’d said, for the Russian’s mind was set on getting Andreas drunk enough to get a shot at Barbara’s panties. Good luck to him.

  Vladimir said something in Russian to one of his bodyguards, then poured another round for everyone at the table. “To us, the night is young.”

  ***

  It was nearly eight in the morning when they got back to Barbara’s house. Barbara resisted Vladimir’s last-minute effort to get the two of them wasted enough to “watch the sunrise from one of my balconies,” by dumping a string of “goodbye shots” on the floor, a sleight-of-hand technique she’d obviously mastered long ago. Andreas, on the other hand, was, as they say in French, “shit-faced.” Barbara also resisted Vladimir’s offer of a ride home, steering Andreas into a taxi instead.

  As soon as they were out of the taxi she said
, “No way I wanted him pushing himself into my house for a nightcap.”

  Andreas took that to mean she was afraid he might have assaulted her. “Don’t worry, Barbara, drunk or not, if he’d tried anything—”

  She was fumbling for her key in her bag. “It wasn’t Vladimir I was worried about.”

  “Me?”

  She opened the door and pushed him inside. “No, silly, me.”

  He stared at her.

  She shrugged. “My late night started out naked in a hot tub with an absolutely gorgeous gay man, and I’ve had two utterly handsome men running their hands up and down my bare back for the rest of the evening. Darling, I’m horny as hell.”

  Andreas knew his next word, even gesture, would get him laid for sure right on the spot. He just stared and gave a silly grin.

  She laughed. “Yeah, you really love her.” Barbara turned and walked toward the bedroom. “Come on lover boy, we’ve got to keep up appearances.”

  He did as she said, but as soon as he saw the bed, he fell on it face down and was out in seconds.

  Andreas had no idea how long he’d slept, but when he woke he was on his back, stark naked, and Barbara was beside him, just as naked but asleep on her belly. She must have undressed him and turned him over. No way he did anything. He definitely would have remembered that ass. And those tits, he could see them from the side. The thought had him erect. All he had to do was roll over slightly and he’d be inside her.

  She might not even notice at first, and certainly wouldn’t mind. It would be all so simple…easy…quick…and delicious. I could just slip right inside her, then move back and forth slowly, she’d start to moan and we’d be off to the races. Damn, I want her. He was so hard at the thought that he felt the sort of throb he’d get near the verge of coming.

  He shook himself, rolled off the bed, and headed into the bathroom. Thank God I’m sober, he thought. Just a little bit drunk, no way I wouldn’t be pounding into her this very second. He reached down and touched himself, thinking it might not be a bad idea to masturbate. He stroked himself twice, then stopped. He froze, felt some more, then turned and walked back into the bedroom and over to the table on Barbara’s side of the bed. He picked up a purple-capped, clear plastic bottle: “Astroglide™ Personal lubricant and moisturizer.”

  He stared at the bottle and touched himself again.

  “You were terrific, darling. Can only imagine how great you must be when you’re awake.” Barbara was talking with her head in the pillow. “Consider it payment in full for driving me crazy all night.” She rolled onto her back, pulled her knees up toward her hips, and said, “But in case you can’t remember what it feels like to be inside me…bare.” She spread open her arms and smiled. Andreas stared at her, holding personal lubricant in his one hand and a very hard dick in the other.

  “I think I’ll take a shower.”

  “Lucky woman.” Barbara rolled back onto her belly.

  The conversation was so awkward for Andreas that he didn’t know what to do next. He showered for twenty minutes, trying to think of something to say. By the time he came out of the bathroom, Barbara was gone. A note was on her pillow. He picked it up.

  Ran off to town. Regards to Lila. Thanks. B.

  Who the hell is ever going to believe this? He called Tassos.

  “And how are we this morning, my little party animal?”

  “Do not ask.”

  “That bad?”

  “Worse. So, what happened?”

  “I think we picked most of it up on tape. Good idea you had to talk over the woman’s back all night. She muffled out a lot of the background noise. Surprised she didn’t mind. A real trooper.”

  Andreas didn’t dare respond. Tassos had been a cop too long; a tone of voice would tell all.

  “They took the bait. Right after you told him about the stuff at Barbara’s, Vladimir said something to one of his guys in Russian. It had to be to find and search her house. My Syros boys tailed them there. They were real efficient, in and out in less than ten minutes. Bet you didn’t notice they ever were there.”

  “In my condition I wouldn’t have noticed a herd of elephants camped out in the living room. Did your boys check to see if they planted any bugs in the house?”

  “Yes. It’s clean.”

  Andreas walked into the living room and looked at his briefcase. “Did your guys touch my briefcase?” He rarely carried one but did for this trip.

  “I told them if they even breathed on it they’d be singing castrato at Easter services.”

  The briefcase was sitting on a patterned chair exactly where Andreas had set it down…almost. Just one half a flower too far back on the seat cushion. “Yeah, these guys were good, not perfect, but good.” He opened the case. Again, everything almost where it should be. The flash drive was not exactly at the same spot on the newspaper as he’d placed it before going out, nor was the folder with copies of the articles and photographs exactly where he’d left it.

  “Looks like they got to everything, and took care I wouldn’t notice.”

  “Any chance they missed it?” asked Tassos.

  “If they were blind and dumb.”

  “Not those guys. So now what?”

  “Don’t know about you, but for once I’ll be spending my holiday at home. Let the other guys do the work.”

  “Kalo Paska.”

  Andreas paused. “How do you say ‘Happy Easter’ in Russian?”

  “Why?”

  “Well, that guy Vladimir wasn’t so bad. The fact he wanted to screw Barbara only made him human. I thought I’d call and say thanks. He did pick up the check.”

  “Probably not a good idea. The only reason he’d want to talk to you—unless you can get him laid—is to make sure this whole thing wasn’t a setup. If I were you, I’d avoid him.”

  Andreas nodded at the phone. “Good advice. I’m off to the airport.”

  “I wonder what they’re going to do with what they took?”

  “My guess is, start off by ruining a lot of people’s holiday.”

  “As long as it’s not ours.”

  “Amen to that, my friend.”

  ***

  The area of Costa Ilios was not far from the center of town, but trying to get a taxi from there to the airport at six in the afternoon on the Saturday before Easter required a bit of a miracle. In Andreas’ case, it took a call from the current Mykonos police chief. Andreas hoped to get a seat on the 7:30 flight. It was the first one to Athens since he’d gotten up. He was banking on everyone being where they intended to be by now, what with Saturday night being the main event of Greek Easter.

  Andreas was in the midst of a heated argument with a particularly belligerent ticket agent who kept insisting that despite a virtually deserted departures area there were no seats available on the flight, even for a GADA chief inspector.

  “Chief Kaldis.”

  The voice was behind him. Andreas turned. “Yes?”

  “Mr. Brusko would like you to join him for coffee.” The accent was Russian but the man was not someone he recognized from last night. He was stocky, five-foot-ten, around sixty, and dressed like a college professor on holiday.

  Andreas looked around. “I don’t see him.”

  “He’s at his home.”

  Andreas nodded. “I see. Well, please thank him, but I have a plane to catch.” He looked at his watch. “In thirty minutes.”

  “It is very important.”

  “So is getting home in time for Easter.”

  “He can arrange to fly you there.”

  “I’m sure he can, but my family is expecting me on this plane. Please thank him, especially for last night, but I must respectfully decline.”

  The man studied him for a moment. “It’s about Zacharias.”

  Andreas shrugged.

 
The man smiled. “Very good.”

  “‘Very good’ what? I don’t know any ‘Zacharias.’” Andreas looked at his watch and turned back to the ticket agent. The agent looked right past him as if expecting a sign from Vladimir’s man. Andreas leaned in. “Bad move, numbnuts. If I don’t have a ticket in my hand in fifteen seconds, I’m coming behind this counter and kicking the fucking shit out of you. And just try getting a cop to help you.”

  The guy started to stammer.

  “Eleven…ten…no talk…just a ticket…seven—”

  The agent frantically punched away at his keyboard, yanked out a ticket from the printer, and handed it to Andreas.

  Andreas turned and faced the Russian man behind him. “Your turn. Just how long a holiday would you like to spend in Greece? Ever see Midnight Express? Would you like to experience the Greek version? Consider your next move carefully.” Andreas stepped toward him.

  The man stepped aside.

  Andreas leaned over and whispered in his ear, “Smart move. And tell your boss sitting in the Hummer outside not to be so conspicuous next time.”

  Andreas walked to the check-in counter at the north end of the room. By the time he’d checked in and turned around, Vladimir was standing by the door to the departure gates.

  Andreas walked straight toward him. “I see you missed my company.”

  Vladimir nodded. “Yes, but this is far more serious than drinks at a bar and playing with a woman’s back.”

  “Maybe for you, but for me it’s a hell of a lot less exciting.”

  Vladimir smiled. “May we talk outside?”

  They went out and stood by the entrance to the parking area.

  “What you told me last night could have severe implications.”

  “About what?”

  “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

  “Vladimir, you’re a nice guy, and I know you want to bury your cock about as deep as it can go in Barbara, but aside from that I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Vladimir smiled again. “You’re right about point one, but I don’t believe your second.”