The Mykonos Mob

by Jeffrey Siger

  “That’s a bit of an exaggeration, my love.”

  “It sure as hell isn’t, considering what happened today.”

  Larry exhaled. “That was different.” He looked at Yianni. “This guy was telling me to invest in a hotel project here that would ‘revolutionize’ the way the hotel business is done on the island. He has a plan to build a high-rise resort and casino complex on one of the island’s last untouched coves. They have some connection through a guy on the mainland to a major marquee international hotel chain willing to add its name to the project. They haven’t reached a deal on the land yet, but they’re hopeful.”

  “That’s not allowed,” said Yianni.

  “I said the same thing to him, and he said, ‘Everything’s possible if you have the money and the connections.’”

  “But high-rises on Mykonos?” said Toni.

  “His pitch covered that with a somewhat seductive logic. He said if you go to the island’s most developed mountainside beaches, what you’ll see are hotel rooms running from the base of the mountain all the way to the top. One unit piled behind and on top of another, making all of them effectively equivalent in height and room capacity to a single, stand-alone, high-rise hotel. If you go with that logic, building a high-rise hotel avoids destroying the mountain, therefore making it a major environmental improvement over business as usual.”

  “That’s bullshit,” said Yianni.

  “Of course it is. That’s why I want no part of it. But I can assure you what you’ve just heard is the PR line the city fathers will be espousing as justification for approving this project, and undoubtedly many more to follow.”

  Toni shook her head. “And I thought things couldn’t get worse.”

  “They can always get worse.”

  “Who pitched you?” Yianni asked.

  “The guy who owns that place,” pointing to the beach. “Karavakis.”

  Chapter Eight

  Most of what Andreas and Lila needed for spending the summer on Mykonos was already there. They’d packed their SUV with the children’s things, including foods they liked that were too much of a hassle to find on the island at a reasonable price, and left with the children and Anna on the Friday afternoon ferry. Since Lila’s parents kept a cook and maid at the Mykonos house all summer, and had a year-round caretaker, Marietta would stay behind in Athens, giving her a vacation of a different sort, away from attending to the family’s needs.

  They made it to the house in time for Andreas to catch his favorite part of the day. He loved watching the east-facing hillsides of ochre, gray, and black fade into shadow as the sun dropped behind the hilltops to the west. Lila, on the other hand, loved sitting on the beach in the morning as sunlight danced upon the water, blanketing the Aegean in hues of silver, rose, and gold.

  Once, he’d discussed with Lila their different views on sunlight.

  “No surprise, there,” she said. “For the most part, my life’s been one big, bright, sunshiny day. Whereas you, my love, are a cop through and through. For you, life’s all about the shadows.”

  He wasn’t sure she was right about that, but it sure as hell had sounded profound.

  By the time Yianni got back to the house, sunset had turned the eastern sky into a pink and purplish dome, faintly pinpricked with starlight. He found Andreas and Lila sitting on the terrace by the pool, sipping wine.

  “Nice sunburn. Looks like you had a busy day at the beach.” Andreas smiled.

  Yianni plopped into a chair beside Lila. He gestured with his head toward Andreas as he said to Lila, “You had to put up with that routine all the way from Athens?”

  “I had the kids and Anna to distract him.” Lila stood up. “Sorry to tell you this, but you two are on your own until dinnertime.” She looked at her watch. “Which should be in about thirty minutes. I have to check to make sure the children are in bed. Tassaki’s all wound up from the boat ride, and he knows how to manipulate Anna into allowing him to break the rules and stay up late.”

  “I wonder who he takes after?” said Yianni.

  “Don’t we all.” Lila kissed Andreas on the forehead and walked into the house.

  Andreas held up a bottle of wine and pointed at a glass on the small table in front of Yianni. “Would you like some?”

  “No thanks. I’ve had enough booze this afternoon to qualify me for a detox program.”

  “I take that to mean you had a good time at the beach.”

  “And on a boat.”

  “Did it involve a young lady?”

  “A very interesting one.”

  Andreas put down his wineglass. “We’ve got a half hour—tell me about her.”

  “What I’m sure is going to interest you more is what I learned from friends of hers with whom we had lunch.”

  Andreas shrugged. “It’s your story, tell it your way.”

  Yianni described how he met Toni, where she worked, and how their day by the sea in front of Karavakis’ club ended on her old acquaintances’ yacht, with the husband revealing Karavakis’ big plans for the island.

  Andreas leaned in. “Karavakis is trying to build a casino and hotel resort on Mykonos?”

  “That’s what this guy Larry said.”

  Andreas shut his eyes. “Do you see a link between that and the Colonel’s murder?”

  “I see possibilities, but very few probabilities.”

  “Give me your best scenario.”

  Yianni drew in and let out a breath. “The Colonel wanted in on the deal and Karavakis said no.”

  “So, two big-time mobster businessmen, who’ve operated on the same island for years and who’ve likely worked together before, have a disagreement over a maybe-sometime-in-the-future mega-project, leading one to decide to resolve their differences by assassinating the other.” Andreas shook his head. “That would be a hell of a change in the way mobsters do business in Greece.”

  “Maybe there was a warning we don’t know about? A bomb blowing up some of the Colonel’s property, like a car, a boat, a house, or maybe a beating delivered as the message part of a phony robbery. They’re big on beatings here as warnings.”

  “I doubt anyone would be foolish enough to send a warning to someone as powerful as the Colonel. It risks him getting to you before you could get to him.”

  “Like I said, I’m talking possibilities, not probabilities.”

  “But how does dragging Despotiko into the mix tie in?” said Andreas.

  “Maybe Despotiko wanted in on the deal, too, and whoever set up the hit on the Colonel thought tying in Despotiko might get him to back out. After all, if he and the Colonel were competitors for the same piece of Karavakis’ deal, Despotiko had a motive for murder.”

  “The same logic that leads me to doubt that a warning was ever given to the Colonel has me doubting the killer was so unsophisticated as to think tying Despotiko into a hit would get him to walk away from a deal he wanted. Yes, I wouldn’t be surprised if Despotiko wanted in, but he doesn’t scare easily, if at all. Besides, he’s used to being linked to deals involving murders. That’s why he keeps so many lawyers, politicians, and media types happily busy working on his behalf.”

  Yianni sighed. “We need to come up with some other connection between Karavakis, the resort project, and the Colonel’s assassination. Otherwise, all we have are coincidences.”

  “And we hate coincidences. Do we know who else is involved in Karavakis’ deal?”

  “So far, only Karavakis.”

  “What about the guy on the mainland with the hotel chain connection? What’s his name?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Does your naked friend Larry know it?”

  “I didn’t ask him.”

  “Can you reach him?”

  “The only connection I have is through Toni.”

  “So, follow up with he
r.”

  Yianni smiled. “I was thinking of doing just that tonight.”

  “Why am I not surprised?”

  “She starts playing at ten-thirty and works until three in the morning.”

  “Does she have a phone?”

  “Of course.”

  “But the personal touch in such matters is so important.” Andreas grinned.

  Yianni looked at his watch. “Is it time for dinner yet?”

  Andreas stood. “Okay, no more teasing.” He waved for Yianni to follow him inside the house. “At least for now.”

  They passed through a large family room, complete with a home-theater-size TV screen and a baby grand piano, into an outdoor courtyard the size of a tennis court. A weather-beaten, wooden plank dining table, set for three, sat under a decades-old olive tree. They’d no sooner sat than the maid, Tess, arrived with a pitcher of water and filled their glasses.

  “Even my mother doesn’t treat me this well,” said Yianni, nodding toward Tess and saying, “Thank you.”

  “Coming from a Greek boy, that’s what I call a true compliment,” said Andreas.

  “Wow,” said Lila, walking into the courtyard from a passage leading to the children’s rooms. “You must be hungry. I didn’t have to call you for dinner even once.”

  Both men stood.

  “I think our guest is more interested in fleeing further inquisition over his new lady friend than in whatever we might be having for dinner.”

  “Well, then he made a terrific blunder.” Lila sat across from the men. “Because I want to hear it all, from first glimpse up to this very moment.”

  “What’s to say?” said Yianni, as he and Andreas sat. “She’s a very interesting person.”

  “That’s precisely the sort I’m looking for,” Lila in leaned toward Yianni. “What does she do?”

  “She’s a late-night piano player in a gender-bending bar in Little Venice.”

  Lila blinked. “Sounds fascinating.”

  Yianni cleared his throat. “And for fun, she throws rocks at the heads of would-be rapists, befriends naked mega-millionaires, and produces potential leads for detectives on their cases, while keeping her own past mysteriously cloaked behind disarming wordplay.”

  “As I said, fascinating. Tell me more.”

  Yianni sighed, and told his tale once more, leaving out details not directly related to Toni.

  “I’d love to meet her.”

  “He’s off to see her perform tonight,” grinned Andreas.

  “Really?”

  “I figured to take a nap and leave in time to be there by midnight.”

  “Great,” said Lila. “Let’s plan on all going together.”

  The grin faded from Andreas’ face. “We’ve had a long day, hon, and don’t want to intrude on Yianni’s time with his friend.”

  This time Yianni grinned. “No imposition at all. You can leave any time you want.”

  “Terrific,” said Lila. “Let’s eat, nap, and plan to shove off at eleven-thirty. This will be fun.”

  Andreas scowled at Yianni. “Yeah, sheer joy.”

  They parked up by the six windmills, and walked down the ramp leading to the bay at Little Venice. The wind had picked up a bit, so rather than dodging waves along the shoreline walkway, they cut through a restaurant’s outdoor seating area, past the island’s only Catholic church, and onto the area’s main street. Barely two meters wide in places, this street had once brimmed with shops attuned to the tastes and needs of locals and the more practically minded tourists. Today, though, much of it took aim at challenging the high-end glitz along Matogianni Street—Mykonos’ Fifth Avenue—with its version of pricey fashion, jewelry, and pretentious clubbing experiences.

  They waded through the crowds until Yianni stopped in front of a rainbow-framed doorway. “Here we are. Like nothing else in the Cyclades. A favorite of gays, straights, locals, and tourists.”

  The sound of a piano drifted out onto the street. “Is that her playing?” asked Lila.

  Yianni peeked in. “Sure is.”

  Lila smiled. “This will be fun,” she said and stepped inside.

  Andreas followed. “Isn’t this that place Tassos likes?”

  “For years he had the hots for the singer, but she’s long gone.”

  “Thank God, I’d hate to risk word getting back to Maggie that we’re hanging out with Tassos’ old flame.”

  “Yes, I can think of far less painful paths to suicide.”

  The moment Toni saw Yianni, her face lit up, and she shouted, “Welcome, handsome!” Then, stage-whispering at the bar, “Stay away from him, guys, this one’s all mine.”

  Andreas swore he saw Yianni blush. He whispered in Lila’s ear, “I think you’re right. This will be fun.”

  They found a stool at the bar for Lila and stood next to her, listening to Toni play.

  Within minutes the place was packed. The mysterious ebb and flow of partiers’ moods had drawn a standing-room-only crowd to the bar, with the sing-along folks gathering around the tables closest to the piano, shouting out requests for “Defying Gravity” from the musical Wicked, “Mama Mia,” and Neil Diamond’s “Sweet Caroline.”

  “How can she stand all those interruptions?” said Lila.

  “My guess is, it all depends on how well they treat her tip jar.” Yianni pointed at the fishbowl on the piano.

  “Does she sing too, or just play?” added Andreas.

  Yianni leaned over. “If I were you, I wouldn’t say, ‘Do you just play?’ to her.”

  On a break, Toni hurried over to the bar, scooting past a bevy of suitors for her time. “Yianni, what a surprise. You actually can stay up past the pumpkin hour.”

  Yianni grinned. “Toni, this is my boss, Andreas Kaldis, and his wife, Lila.”

  Toni immediately extended her hand and smiled. “A pleasure to meet you both. Thanks for coming.”

  Lila shook her hand. “You’re terrific. I’m amazed at how well you maintain your composure amid all the interruptions.”

  Toni shrugged. “Tonight was a little wild. It’s usually not that rambunctious a crowd. But my attitude is always the same. As long as the crowd’s having fun, I’m okay with it.”

  “But with so many yelling out different requests, how do you decide what to play?”

  “You have to read the crowd, even a wild one like this. For some, it’s their first night on the island, and they’re up for hell-raising. For others, it’s their last night, and it’s all about nostalgia. My job is to adjust on the fly and try to make sure everyone has a good time.”

  “And buys more drinks, right?” said Yianni.

  Toni winked at him, then leaned in toward Lila to say in a mock conspiratorial tone, “In all honesty, if left to make my own playlist, I’d turn the room into one big rock ’n’ roll party.”

  “Why rock ’n’ roll?”

  Toni leaned back. “It just speaks to me, always has. I love the sounds and cadences of great trains rolling down the rails, and I hear that in classic rock’s combination of country and rhythm and blues.” Toni paused. “Sorry to ramble on. I must be boring you to death, but I tend to get wound up when I talk shop.”

  Lila reached out and patted Toni’s hand. “Absolutely not. I’m fascinated.”

  “Really? You’re very kind.”

  “I’m serious. I’d like to hear more about your career.”

  “I’m not sure I’d call it a career.”

  “How long have you been doing this?”

  “Okay, it’s a career.”

  Andreas turned his head so only Yianni could hear him. “I see what you mean about your friend keeping her past mysteriously cloaked behind disarming wordplay.”

  Before Yianni could answer, Larry and Janet burst through the front door and headed straight into the middle of t
heir conversation.

  “Toni and Yianni! Our old lunch crew, back together again.” Larry patted Yianni on the back and kissed Toni on both cheeks.

  “This is Lila and Andreas Kaldis,” said Toni. “Yianni works with Andreas.”

  “He’s my boss,” said Yianni.

  “Only in name,” smiled Andreas, extending his hand to shake Larry’s hand.

  “Larry and Janet kindly hosted Toni and me for lunch today on their magnificent yacht.”

  “Remember, it’s chartered,” said Larry.

  “Sorry, guys, but I’ve got to get back to work,” interrupted Toni. “I can feel the owner’s scowl on the back of my neck.”

  “Can you join us after for a bite to eat?” said Larry.

  Toni looked at Yianni.

  “It’s up to my ride,” he said, nodding toward Lila.

  “Sounds like fun,” she said.

  Andreas closed his eyes for an instant before smiling. “Sure, why not?”

  “Terrific,” said Toni. “Fasten your seatbelts, folks, a new Toni’s in town.” For the remaining sets, Toni sang as well as played, and shut down the crazies in the crowd with humor and musical jabs. She played the crowd’s favorites: Michael, Amy, Aretha, Adele, Barbra, Liza, and Frank, but mixed in homages to Chuck Berry, Jerry Lee Lewis, Buddy Holly, Jerry Garcia, and Freddie Mercury. It was a wild evening at the piano bar.

  The wildness continued as the “bite to eat” with Larry and Janet turned into an all-night pub crawl down the couple’s memory lane. They recalled their early days on the island, wandering lost through the then-empty back streets of the old town and stopping to ask a black-clad grandmother sitting in her doorway for directions back to the harbor. They spoke no Greek back then, and the old woman spoke no English, and when she hurried into her house they thought they’d frightened her. They’d started to walk away when she came out carrying a plate of cookies and two glasses of water, and together they spent half an hour conversing in the international language of smiles, nods, and charades. Every year thereafter, Larry and Janet made a point of stopping by to pay their respects to their cookie-serving friend.