The Mykonos Mob

by Jeffrey Siger

  A man reached around Lila and tapped Toni on the shoulder. “You’re Toni?” he said in English.

  Toni turned and gave a tentative smile. “Yep, that’s me, the one and only.”

  “I’ve heard you’ve helped many people. I’d like to talk to you.” The man spoke broken English with a heavy accent, likely Albanian.

  Toni switched to Greek. “Sorry, but I’m here to catch my friends’ performance. We can talk tomorrow.”

  The man’s expression turned grave. “I’m sorry, but I need to talk to you now. It’s a matter of life and death.”

  Toni hesitated. “I really can’t talk in here, sir. It’s rude to the performers.”

  “Then let’s talk outside.”

  Lila could tell the guy was starting to annoy Toni.

  “Sorry, no can do. See me tomorrow.”

  He raised a fist to Toni’s face, and both women braced for things to turn physical. But he opened his hand, revealing a hundred-euro note. “Five minutes. It’s all I ask.”

  Toni looked over at Lila and shrugged. “Hmm...if I stood just outside the front door, I still could hear the music, so it wouldn’t be as if I were walking out on my friends. Besides, for a hundred euros, they’d understand.”

  “I’m not letting you leave with him alone.”

  The two women followed the man toward the door. He wore a laborer’s jeans, work boots, and faded tee-shirt. He looked to be in his mid-thirties, about Toni’s height, and possessed the wiry build that so many of his countrymen gain through years of hard manual labor at jobs no native-born islander would ever willingly do again.

  Lila made Toni stop two paces outside the door. No reason to get too far away from the crowd, just in case he had another motive for getting Toni outside.

  “So, what can I do to help you, sir?”

  “Who’s she?” He pointed at Lila.

  “My associate. We work together.”

  He paused. “It’s my daughter.” He looked down at the ground. “She’s in with bad people and won’t listen to me.”

  “Sorry to hear that.”

  He looked Toni in the eyes. “She’s only fifteen. We live on the island. She met a boy she knew from school. An older boy, a local boy from an important family.”

  By “local” he likely meant one born to a family of Greek heritage linked to the island. Even if this man lived on the island for a lifetime, raising generations of family members in the process, he and his family would never be considered Mykonian by the locals, but categorized instead according to their place of ethnic origin, and identified as such. The Albanian. The Bulgarian. The Roma. The Pakistani. That was the most immigrants could likely hope to be called. And, unless a local happened to do business with one of them—or they attended school together—one might never get to know the other, for many immigrants went about their lives in virtual anonymity away from most locals, preferring to keep to their own communities.

  The man told Toni and Lila how his daughter had felt special for being singled out by the boy. Both he and his wife had warned their child that a local boy would only hurt her, and that she risked turning herself into an outcast among “her own kind.” But to no avail.

  Lila was thinking his story had begun to sound like a Mykonian variation on a Romeo and Juliet theme when Toni spoke up. “Sir, I feel for your situation, but I’m not sure what I can do. Affairs of the heart are not the sort of thing I handle.”

  “The problem is much worse. He’s hooked her on drugs.”

  The women’s faces tightened.

  He bit at his lower lip and looked away. “And he gives her clothes. Clothes to attract men.”

  Poor kid...she’s been hooked by a pimp. Lila spoke up. “Have you gone to the police?”

  “The police?” He laughed. “The boy is from a prominent family. The police will not touch him.”

  “What about your friends in the Albanian community?” asked Toni. “Have you considered asking them for help?”

  He made a hopeless gesture. “You mean the Mafia? Even if they could help, if I went to them, they’d own me forever. They might do even worse things to my daughter.”

  “I can’t argue with you on that, but, frankly, sir, I still don’t see what I can do for you.”

  “Get her away from him, get him to leave her alone.”

  “On such a small island, that’s a hard thing to do. Unless she leaves the island.”

  He shook his head. “We have no place to go. My family’s life and work are here, and if I send my daughter to live elsewhere, who knows what might happen to her…away from family.” He pressed the hundred euros into Toni’s hand. “Please, take this, save my daughter. I will pay you more.”

  “The money’s not it, sir. I just don’t think I can do anything for you. These sorts of problems are better handled by the clergy or professional counselors.”

  The father looked at Toni as if she were an innocent kindergartener. “My daughter...she’s trapped by this boy. He controls her.” He dropped his head. “My family is doomed.”

  Lila forced a smile. “I’m sure that’s not so.”

  “Yes, it is.” He stared at Toni. “Because if you can’t help, my only choice is to kill the boy.”

  Whoa, thought Lila.

  Toni simply nodded. “Yep, that will destroy your family for sure. I’ve another choice for you. Spend the money you want to pay me on professional help for your daughter, and some for yourself, too.”

  “It is too late.” He inclined his head toward the bar. “The boy’s inside with two others. I followed him here tonight to kill him.” He pulled a switchblade far enough out of his pocket for Toni and Lila to see it, then slid it back inside. “When the man playing the guitar called out your name, I took it as a sign that you had come to help me. I know about you. People say you help them.”

  “That’s very nice of you to say. But you have to give me a day or so to think about what I might be able to do for you. Who’s the boy?”

  “Bright-green tee-shirt, at the table closest to the front door.”

  Toni peeked inside and turned around visibly shaken. “I see your problem.”

  “Will you help me?”

  “Permit me to consult with my colleague.” Toni pulled Lila aside. “I better humor this guy, just in case he’s serious. You should leave now.”

  “Not a chance. I’ll call Andreas to get the police here.”

  “No way. This is a real mess. For the past five minutes we’ve been talking in public with a man describing in detail how he’s prepared to kill the son of one of the biggest players on the island. If I walk away from him and he kills the boy, I’ll never be able to convince the father I had nothing to do with his son’s murder.”

  Toni glanced back toward the bar. “On the other hand, if I warn the boy or his father, this guy, his daughter, and the rest of their family will likely disappear off the face of the earth.”

  “You mean he’s that kind of player.”

  “The worst.” Toni shook her head. “I’ll take this as a lesson for the next time I consider leaving my piano-playing fantasy world for a night wandering among the crazies out here.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Something you shouldn’t be any part of.”

  “I’m not leaving you alone with this man.”

  “He’s not the one I’m worried about. But he’s left me no choice but to say I’ll try to help him.” Toni looked down at her feet. “What I have to figure out is how the hell to get his daughter away from the bad guys.”

  Toni motioned for the man to come over to her. She looked him straight in the eye. “First of all, what’s your name and where do you live?”

  He gave his name and address.

  “And your daughter’s name?”

  “Adina.”

  “Before I a
gree to do what you asked, let’s get something straight. I didn’t get your daughter in this situation, and you’re the one who won’t accept the obvious solution and send her off the island. So don’t try making me feel responsible for the mess she’s in. And by the way, don’t blame me if you and your wife can’t keep your fifteen-year-old daughter home at night.”

  He leaned back slightly and glared at her.

  “And don’t give me that look. Save it for your mirror. If you want to go ahead and wreck your life with your switchblade, be my guest. But if you want me to try to help, you’ll have to do it my way and be patient.”

  He dropped his head.

  “I appreciate what your family is going through, but this is a nasty situation. Now, I’m willing to try to find some way to end it without putting you and your family at risk. Or me.” She paused. “Understand?”

  The glare had gone from his eyes, replaced by welling tears. He nodded. “Yes.”

  “Meet me at the harbor tomorrow at two.” She gave him the name of the taverna that served as her office.

  He hugged her, saying, “Thank you. May God be with you,” and hurried off.

  Lila stared at Toni. “I’m truly impressed at how you handled that. So was he. He even blessed you.”

  “I think a more appropriate blessing for the situation he’s put me in would be, God help you.”

  Lila took Toni’s arm and steered her back into the bar. “It’s time to return to having fun. Things can only go uphill from here.”

  “That, my dear optimist, is what I call true prayer.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Yianni drove the motorcycle, with Andreas doubled up behind him, a now-common practice among Athens police. But they were not in uniform, not on a police bike, and not in Athens. Motorcycles and ATVs streamed passed them, blindly cutting tightly into sand-strewn corners at high speed, weaving in and out of the oncoming lane of traffic, and performing any number of other fate-tempting maneuvers, all accompanied by the sounds of horn-honking and sing-song shouts of “MY-KON-OS.”

  Yianni had been carefully avoiding all the partying drivers passing by on a winding road barely wide enough for two small jeeps to pass one another, when a motorcycle charged up behind them. Yianni glanced back in his left mirror but couldn’t make out the driver in the glare of the trailing bike’s headlight.

  To give the motorcyclist enough room to pass without having to move into the oncoming lane, Yianni moved over to the right, close by a low stone wall separating the road from a steep hillside drop.

  The motorcycle roared up beside them but didn’t pass, instead mimicked their pace, revving its engine, and cruising beside them, leaving no more than a meter between the two bikes. Yianni glanced to his left and didn’t recognize the driver beneath his helmet. Out of the corner of his eye, Yianni saw him lift up his right foot. He immediately knew what the man had in mind, a technique used by beach peddlers of massages and counterfeit goods for persuading potential competitors to stay away from beaches they’d claimed as their own. A quick kick would send Andreas and him crashing into the stone wall or over it. Just another road accident for their local police brethren to clean up.

  As the driver swerved in toward their bike, Yianni hit his brakes hard, skidding in the process, but he avoided the boot and managed to keep his overloaded bike upright. The driver hadn’t expected Yianni’s move and lost his balance when his foot kicked nothing but air.

  While the driver struggled to regain control, Yianni sped up on the left side of the driver. Andreas delivered a kick of his own to the driver’s center of gravity, sending him and his bike to the ground and skidding into the wall.

  Yianni jerked to a stop, and Andreas and he ran back to the driver, who lay perfectly still. Yianni gently removed the driver’s helmet. The man underneath looked like many of the island’s heavily tattooed, muscled, private-security types: a beard and shaved head, military camouflage shorts, a tight black tee-shirt bearing some ambiguous but macho symbol over the heart, and black leather high-tops. Were it daytime, he’d undoubtedly have worn Ray-Ban Wayfarers rather than a helmet.

  Andreas felt for a pulse. “Still ticking. Call for an ambulance.”

  Yianni called on his mobile. “Lucky he wore a helmet.”

  “The bastard wore it so we couldn’t recognize him if we somehow survived.”

  “I meant lucky for us. Now we can get him to tell us who sent him.”

  Andreas knelt and shone the flashlight from his mobile phone on the man’s face. “I can guess at his answer. Take a look at him.”

  Yianni crouched down. “Son of a bitch. He was in the office with Karavakis and his kid.”

  Andreas stood. “Looks like Karavakis has decided to play hardball.”

  Yianni clenched his fists as he stood. “Let’s go back and show him how to do it right.”

  “I’d love to, but there’s no chance of hanging this on him unless, and until, our unconscious witness talks.”

  Gawkers from ATVs, cars, vans, and bikes stood scattered all across the road. Andreas yanked his police ID out from under his shirt and yelled at them, “Get moving. You’re blocking access to a crime scene.”

  He looked at Yianni. “As much as I’d like to take this guy’s bike and shove it sideways up Karavakis’ ass, I’ll get much greater joy nailing him for murder.”

  A siren wailed in the near distance. “It must be the ambulance coming for this guy,” said Yianni.

  “Good. But when we come for Karavakis, the only sound I want him hearing is a cell door slamming shut behind him.”

  “I can live with that.”

  Yianni and Andreas followed the ambulance to the medical clinic, which wasn’t equipped to handle the sort of trauma their attacker had sustained, and so he was airlifted to Athens. Andreas notified GADA and the Athens hospital that the patient was under arrest for the attempted murder of two police officers and should be treated accordingly. In describing to the Mykonos police chief what had happened, Yianni and he offered no opinion on the man’s identity, why he attacked them, or if anyone else might be involved.

  “I can’t believe you have no idea, not even a guess, at why a complete stranger would want to kill you,” said Telly.

  “Why are you surprised?” said Andreas. “It’s crazy season on the island. With so many nuts concentrated and high in one place, it’s only a matter of probability until something bad happens to you.”

  “You must think I’m an idiot.”

  “No, I think you’re a cop just trying to do his job, which includes never believing the first story you’re told by someone involved in an altercation.”

  “Fine, stick to your story. Just tell me why you were on the road coming back from Karavakis’ club?”

  “My wife had plans with a girlfriend in town, and we thought it would be a good chance to check out the action at the hottest place on the island.”

  “Yeah,” said Yianni. “Great idea, Chief. Next time why don’t we enter a tag-team cage-fighting competition? It’s less risky.”

  Telly waved them both off. “Enough already. I still don’t believe you. But just in case you’re not feeding me a bullshit story, and you come up with something to explain what happened tonight, you will let me know, won’t you?”

  “Of course,” said Andreas.

  Telly sighed as he walked out of the medical center.

  “What now?” said Yianni.

  Andreas looked at his watch. “It’s half-past three. I’d say home.”

  “What about Lila and Toni?”

  Andreas took out his phone. “No message from Lila.” He put the phone back in his pocket. “And if they’re still out on the town, I don’t want to know about it.”

  Yianni looked at his phone. “No message for me either.”

  Andreas patted Yianni on the back. “Then I guess home it is.”
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br />   Lila and Toni left the bar around three. The main streets were filled with partiers, so they took the back streets to an all-night sandwich place just off the harbor. They grabbed two beers, split one sandwich, borrowed two chairs from a shuttered harborside taverna, and lugged everything down onto the narrow strip of beach separating the harborfront road from the sea. They now had front-row seats on a nearly full moon lighting up the sea, and of the harbor clubs doing much the same thing to their customers.

  Toni took a bite of the sandwich. “That was quite a night we had.”

  “For sure. Are they always like that?”

  “They don’t usually involve guys with switchblades.”

  Lila took a sip of beer. “Do you mind if I ask you a question? I think you might be able to help me with a problem I’m wrestling with.”

  Toni took a sip of her beer. “If I can, sure.”

  “I’m sure it’s no secret to you that I’m experiencing a young-mother-out-of-the-workforce quandary. I’m trying to figure out how to go about finding a meaningful focus for the rest of my life.”

  “You think I can help you answer that?” Toni rested her beer on the sand. “I’m flattered, but not only am I childless, younger, and without a college education, to be perfectly blunt I’m a pauper compared to you. Make that compared to practically everyone on this island.”

  “But you know how to live. You found your dream and seized it.”

  “I’ve always found the need for food, clothing, and shelter to be a great motivator.”

  “Stop with the jokes,” said Lila. “I’m serious. You have true gifts. I’ve seen you perform at the piano bar and how you handled that distraught father. You mastered your crafts, and did so without a college education. That’s inspirational in and of itself.”

  Toni paused. “How do you expect me to respond to that without a joke?”

  Lila smiled. “See, you can even handle the awkward situations I create.” She tipped her beer toward Toni in a toast, then took a sip. “Is it instinctive or did you learn how to think that way?”