The Mykonos Mob

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The Mykonos Mob Page 16

by Jeffrey Siger


  “I wouldn’t exactly call it a fight,” said Andreas. “More like a civics-lesson disagreement over whether you or the Greek people own the beach.”

  The owner offered a nervous smile. “You know I’d never have allowed this to happen if I knew it involved you and your family, Chief.”

  “Yes, I do, especially when I see how very well you’ve done for yourself in my absence.”

  The owner gave a nervous laugh. “Please, allow me to attempt to make up for this unpleasant experience by having you and your family as my guests for the day.”

  Andreas hesitated. “We have four adults and two children.”

  “No problem.”

  “Okay,” said Andreas. “I’ll accept your kindness on the beds and umbrella, but I insist you let me pay for lunch in the restaurant.”

  The owner smiled. “A smart offer. It will likely be cheaper paying for the food than the sunbeds.”

  “But not by much.”

  The man grinned and patted Andreas on the shoulder. “Again, I’m very sorry for the misunderstanding.” He waved to a different beach attendant. “Four sunbeds and two umbrellas in the front row for my friends.”

  “But, sir, they’re all reserved.”

  The owner glared at his employee. “Not anymore.” He looked at Andreas. “Please, follow him.”

  Yianni started off behind the attendant. “I’ll catch up with Lila and the rest of the crew and bring them back to the sunbeds.”

  “Not sure I’ll want the lecture I’m likely to get from her when you do.”

  “Don’t worry. She’s used to you by now.”

  Andreas paused as Yianni kept walking. He wondered if that might be an underlying cause of Lila’s discontent. She’s used to him. Did she see her life as too predictable and fixed?

  I thought only men went through that sort of crisis, and much later in our lives.

  He carried the two beach bags over to the four unoccupied sunbeds. Everyone around him had witnessed what just happened, and he knew they’d be eyeing him suspiciously. He couldn’t blame them. He stared down the rows of beds. Amazing how many people had so much money, or at least acted as if they did. Once, Americans, Brits, and other Europeans made up the professional and business types who could afford to play like this on holiday. These days, Middle Eastern, Indian, and Russian spenders dropped truly big bucks. So, too, did another sort: well-heeled criminals from around the world. After all, this was their party island too.

  He dropped the bags on one of the sunbeds, tipped the attendant, stripped down to his bathing suit, and headed straight for the sea. He waded in up to his knees before diving into the water. He loved the Aegean. It had perfect clarity, temperature, and buoyancy—at least for his body.

  Andreas swam to the line of blaze-orange buoys running parallel to the shore and separating the swimming area from boat traffic. He turned at the buoys and began a slow, steady crawl stroke, swimming parallel to the beach toward the cliffs bordering the bay. The first ten minutes were always the most difficult for him, his muscles not yet in sync with his will. Things smoothed out after that, and the next twenty minutes breezed by, drawing him into a nearly meditative state.

  At forty minutes, he decided to call it quits and swam back to the beach. As he skipped onto shore, he looked for Lila and the kids. Sofia lay shielded from the sun with Anna under an umbrella while Yianni and Tassaki built a sand castle together atop the slice of sand between the sunbeds and the sea.

  “Have a good swim?” asked Yianni.

  “Terrific. There’s nothing like the Aegean.” Andreas looked around. “Where’s Lila?”

  “Some Athenian friends dragged her off to a new shop that just opened next door.”

  “Maybe that will get her mind off of playing detective with Toni.”

  “I doubt it,” said Yianni, using a bright yellow bulldozer to plow a new driveway for Tassaki’s castle. “She called Toni and asked her to join us for lunch.”

  “That’s nice.”

  “But Toni said she can’t make it. Something about a meeting with a client.”

  Andreas crouched down next to Yianni, and whispered. “I’m worried about Lila playing private detective, even as a bystander. This isn’t a kid’s game. Guys who flash knives actually use them.” He leaned in. “What do you think I should do to get her to listen to me?”

  Yianni looked at Andreas. “You’re asking me? Have you noticed the amount of influence I have with Toni?”

  “But that’s to be expected. You two hardly know each other.”

  “Yes, and you and Lila know each other about as well as two people possibly could.”

  Andreas picked up a tiny shell. “Hmm, you might have just answered my question.”

  Yianni stared at him. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I’m glad to have helped out.”

  “I think my best chance at impacting Lila’s decisions, and vice versa, was in the period between our first meeting, and when we became truly in tune with one another. Now that we know each other so well, whichever one of us is agonizing over a decision has likely already processed the other’s anticipated opinion into the decision, leaving little chance for a change of mind.”

  “Daddy, daddy,” Tassaki yelled, pointing at a series of huge waves generated by the wake of a mega-yacht passing by too quickly and close to shore.

  “It’s going to hit our castle,” he cried.

  Andreas and Yianni quickly gathered up the toys. “We can’t fight Mother Nature, son. Let’s just get out of its way, and stay safe until the crisis passes. We’ll come back to rebuild later.”

  Yianni smiled. “Sounds like pretty good relationship advice to me, Chief.”

  To Andreas, lunch at this beach always seemed more about the social scene than the food. He had hoped for one of the tables off to the side, away from the action, but no such luck. The owner had held open one of his prime tables, set squarely in the middle of the action, high chair for Sofia and all. Champagne spray already filled the air, launched by celebrants at adjacent tables. Lila took care to seat Sofia as far away from them as possible.

  Andreas asked Lila if he should request a different table.

  “This’ll be fine. She’s a Greek girl. Sooner or later she’ll have to get used to men making fools of themselves in public to attract attention.”

  Yianni chuckled, sitting down next to Anna and across from Lila and Andreas.

  “I hope much later,” said Andreas. He glanced around the room. As expected, the curious eyes of the couture-bedecked patrons studied every detail of what Andreas’ crew wore, undoubtedly searching for a clue to the identity of the woefully underdressed folk sitting at one of the “you must spend a minimum of five thousand euros to sit here” tables. He shrugged to himself. Maybe they’d convince themselves that the Kaldis party was so badly dressed as to be chic.

  The owner hurried over to Lila. She stood and he kissed her on both cheeks. “So happy to see you again, my dear Lila.”

  “Careful,” warned Lila. “My hair is still wet from the sea.”

  “Thankfully, the sea didn’t ruin your makeup.”

  “Don’t be silly. I’m not wearing makeup.”

  The owner’s jaw dropped. “You must be kidding me. You look simply radiant.”

  Lila rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to lay it on so thick.”

  “For sure,” said Andreas, “we’re paying for lunch, whether or not you’re charming.”

  The owner winked at Lila. “Let me know if you ever tire of this troublemaker.” He patted Andreas on the back, and walked away.

  “I take it you know him,” said Yianni as Lila resumed her seat.

  “He’s an old friend of my mother and father. We knew him when this place was nothing but a shack on the beach.”

  “All I know,” said Yianni, “is that if I
had to pay what he charges for this table, I’d be washing dishes for a year.”

  Lila smiled. “He’s not going bill us like tourists.”

  “I still couldn’t handle this on my paycheck,” said Yianni.

  Lila looked around the room. “I understand. But you have to give him credit. He’s a businessman who has a unique gift for anticipating big spenders’ wants and getting them to pay him extraordinary amounts to satisfy their desires.”

  Yianni nodded toward a table of scantily clad young women interspersed between much older men. “I see what you mean.”

  Andreas jumped in. “Would you two mind changing the subject? Can we just enjoy the scene and avoid a deep and meaningful cultural analysis of our times?”

  The waiter dropped off menus and a wine list. Without opening them, Lila ordered a half-dozen appetizers from memory. Andreas ordered a bottle of white wine.

  “I hope you don’t mind my being so bold as to order the appetizers,” she said to Yianni. “I’m sure you’ll like them.”

  “It all sounds great to me.”

  “Same apology from me on the wine,” said Andreas.

  “No problem. I’m just glad you didn’t order champagne. It might have been taken as a sign of aggression by one of our adjoining tables.”

  A young man at the next table with a shaved head and week-old black beard was making a big deal of shaking up a bottle of Dom Perignon White Gold. He aimed it in the direction of a smiling, blued-eyed blonde, clearly unconcerned about her fate.

  Andreas shook his head. “That bottle costs almost as much as a car. And he’s going to spray it?”

  “Remember your rule: no cultural commentary,” said Lila.

  The young man let loose with the spray at the girl.

  “What an idiot,” said Yianni.

  “It’s My-kon-os,” said Andreas, mimicking the ATVers sing-song chant.

  “Why, Lila, darling, what a pleasant surprise. How are you?” A couture-styled, svelte blonde in Chanel sunglasses bent down behind Lila and kissed her cheeks.

  Andreas and Yianni immediately stood. Lila made it to her feet a few seconds later, looking a bit surprised. “Oh, my, so nice to see you. You know my husband, Andreas.”

  Andreas smiled.

  “And this is our friend, Yianni—”

  “Nice to see you again, Mrs. Despotiko.”

  The woman smiled. “Likewise, Detective.” She turned back to Lila. “We must get together while you’re here. We simply must.”

  “Certainly,” smiled Lila.

  “I’ve interrupted your lovely family lunch long enough, but when I noticed you sitting behind us, I just had to come over and say hello.” She nodded to Andreas, gave a smile to Yianni, squeezed Lila’s arm, and went back to a long table behind Andreas and Lila.

  “That was a surprise,” said Lila, sitting.

  “There’s more surprises to come,” said Yianni, looking at Andreas. “Guess who’s with her at that table.” He paused. “Our dear old friend Angelos Karavakis.”

  Lila swung her head around and stared straight at the table. “So that’s the famous Angelos Karavakis.”

  “Infamous,” said Andreas, clenching his jaw.

  “Who else is at the table?” she asked.

  “Their backs are to me,” said Yianni.

  Just then a bald, stocky, middle-aged man walked through the doorway shook hands with the others at the table and sat down.

  “Correction, I know another one.” said Yianni. “The island’s illustrious mayor just joined their party.”

  “Just birds of a feather flocking together,” said Andreas.

  “Songbirds or vultures?” said Lila

  “Definite meat-eaters,” answered Andreas.

  “Sort of makes you wonder,” said Lila.

  “Wonder about what?”

  “What’s worse? Drug dealers and sex-traffickers destroying lives, or supposedly legitimate business and government types doing the same thing to entire communities? I mean, can you really separate them out for me? Which ones are dealing in drugs and sex, and which are destroying the essence of the island?”

  “I get your point,” said Andreas, “but let’s not forget that most of the people in here are on holiday. Back home, they’re likely just plain folk. Yes, some may be celebrities, others possibly criminals, but there’s no way of telling what they do in their everyday lives just from looking at them.”

  “I wonder what the big meeting’s all about,” said Lila.

  “Me too,” said Andreas. “I’d love to know what Mrs. Despotiko is doing there. Her husband’s not among the group.”

  “But from the way everyone at the table is deferring to her,” said Yianni, “you’d think she was the Godfather, not her husband.”

  “Respect must be paid,” said Andreas turning to take a better look at the table. His move caught the eye of the mayor, who promptly raised a wineglass to him and smiled.

  “We’ve been outed, folks. Glasses up, smiles on, and toast away.”

  Everyone at their table except for Sofia exchanged smiles and air-toasts with the other table.

  “Well done, Tassaki,” said Andreas, smiling at his son, and turning to put down his glass. “Glad that bit of hypocrisy is over and done with.”

  Lila sat staring across their table into the middle distance.

  “Are you okay?” said Andreas, touching her hand.

  “Not sure.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Remember that man who told Toni he planned to kill someone for corrupting his daughter?”

  “Yes,” said Andreas.

  “Well,” she said, voice lowered, “his intended victim is sitting to the left of Angelos Karavakis. I recognized him when they toasted us.”

  Andreas and Yianni abruptly turned to look at the table.

  “Jeez,” said Yianni. “That’s Karavakis’ son.”

  Andreas looked at Yianni. “I think it’s time we have a serious chat with your friend Toni.”

  “That’s our friend,” said Lila abruptly.

  Two waiters arrived with the appetizers.

  “Time to eat,” said Yianni. “We can return to puzzle-solving later.”

  Right, thought Andreas. Solving would be nice.

  Toni was quite proud of herself at having made it to her office precisely at four, just as she’d promised her client.

  The waiter handed her an envelope. “An Albanian left it for you about an hour ago.”

  She opened it and found a note.

  I’m afraid to be seen with you in harbor. Please come to house.

  He obviously had a better appreciation of the risks involved than she did.

  She did not recognize the address he’d given for his home. Thankfully, he’d also drawn a map showing its location. That, she recognized: an alleyway between Little Venice and the bus station.

  She dropped a couple euros on the table and wandered out into a crush of tourists and sidewalk hawkers busily culling prospective patrons into their tavernas. At her first opportunity, she escaped the harbor and plunged into the old town’s confusing maze of narrow alleyways and lanes.

  Things always seemed calmer in here, even when the town was packed with tourists. Perhaps because when you’re wandering inside a labyrinth you’re never quite sure what might lie around the next twist or turn. It gave rise to hope that you’d run into something better than the mess you were caught up in at the moment.

  No wonder her father called her an optimist. I really do need to call him.

  When Toni first moved to the island, children played in the old town maze while black-clad grandmothers sat in doorways and on geranium-filled balconies, chatting with one another as they kept watch over their grandchildren.

  These days, the only grandmothers you’d likely f
ind here were stylishly dressed and keeping watch over the goods in their shops. The buildings were now far too valuable to serve as residences, and most had been leased to strangers or used as businesses for the buildings’ owners. As for the grandchildren and their games, today you’d mostly find them tucked away indoors like the rest of their digital generation.

  She followed the sound of the birds. They congregated in the part of town where she was headed, high among the sturdy eucalyptus trees lining the wall encircling the town’s grade school. During the school year, these same birds sang backup to the sounds of children at play, but in summer they headlined the show.

  Toni watched four boys of no more than twelve scoot over the schoolyard wall and head for the playground, basketballs in hand. Their chatter interrupted the birds, scattering some. Toni shook her head at how, even as young as twelve, they’d mastered the many uses for the word malaka in male company.

  At a lane that once housed the post office, she turned. Now the building stood vacant, hung up for years in intra-governmental and family feuding over whom had the right to determine its future. The old town seemed to be aging rapidly, though you couldn’t tell that in tourist season. Much like an aging film star who’s neglected her underlying health, she could still fool the masses when outfitted in her finest party clothes and makeup.

  But in off-season, or even during tourist season, if you wandered down neglected back streets away from the glitz and shopping areas, you’d notice distinct differences. Sewer smells, leaking pipes, uncollected garbage, unenforced building regulations, and cosmetic neglect were what had sent locals fleeing to out-of-town residences, with foreign workers moving in to fill the void.

  Or perhaps it was the other way around: Because locals had left the old town, their elected officials no longer cared what happened in the out-of-sight/out-of-mind parts of the old town.

  Whatever the reason, this was where Toni was headed.

  The front door to the home she sought stood two steps up and back from the street. To get to it, she had to duck under a clothesline tied to a hook to the right of the front door. The line stretched across the door, past an adjacent casement window, to a hook above another door in a wall running perpendicular to the front of the house.

 

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