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The Mykonos Mob

Page 27

by Jeffrey Siger


  “So, ladies,” said Lila, sipping her coffee, “would you like to continue with these counseling sessions?” She smiled on the word counseling. “Perhaps next time down there.” She pointed to a private cove sprinkled with sunbeds, sailing paraphernalia, and snorkeling equipment.

  “That’s yours too?” said Ino.

  “Yes.”

  “I’d love to come back,” said Adina.

  “Me too,” said Ino.

  “Great. Only one condition.”

  “Here goes,” sighed Ino.

  Lila ignored the remark. “You must promise me that you’ll take an honest look at how you’re living your lives, where you see yourselves headed, and whether that’s where you want to end up. Though I’d like you to think that you want to take a different path—one filled with education and efforts at establishing a lifelong career for yourselves—if you come back to me and truthfully say that you like the way your life is headed, we’ll still be friends and you’ll always be welcome in my home. I just want honesty from you.”

  Adina bit at her lip. “But how can girls like us possibly hope to get an education or a career? The Greek economy sucks, and as non-Greeks, we’re treated as second-class citizens, even though we were born here.”

  Lila’s face turned stern. “Because I’ll have your back. If you’re honest with me and try your best, I’ll do my very best to support you. That gives you a hell of a lot better chance than going at it alone.”

  Adina looked at Ino. “Maybe she can help us with Flora?”

  “Who’s Flora?” said Toni.

  “We can’t talk about that,” said Ino. “You know how he feels about us talking about other girls with outsiders.”

  “But she’s our friend, and no one else seems to care.”

  “I’m sure she’ll turn up sooner or later,” said Ino.

  Adina shrugged. “It’s been days.”

  “Okay, what’s going on?” said Toni.

  “We lost touch with a friend,” said Ino.

  “She’s more than a friend,” said Adina. “She’s like our big sister. Always trying to protect us.”

  “She’s nineteen.”

  “When we asked where she was, we were told it’s none of our business.”

  “Where is Flora’s home?” asked Lila.

  “Thessaloniki.”

  “Maybe she went there?”

  “Not without telling us,” said Adina. “She said she’d been told to do a favor for a friend of Karavakis.”

  “Who was the friend?” said Lila.

  “She didn’t know.”

  “Who told her to do the favor?” asked Toni.

  Ino snickered. “Who do you think?”

  “Karavakis?” asked Toni.

  The girls nodded.

  “What kind of favor?” asked Toni.

  Adina tensed. “She didn’t say, but she got hooked on drugs in nursing school, and now does whatever she’s told to support her habit.”

  “Anything else you can tell us about her?” said Toni.

  “What good will that do? How could you help?” said Ino.

  “We have connections,” said Lila.

  “I have a photo in my bag of the three of us,” said Adina.

  “Let me see it. I’ll make a copy,” said Lila.

  “You shouldn’t do that,” said Ino. “If word gets back that we’re talking to outsiders…” Her voice trailed off.

  “No one’s going to know,” said Adina.

  “We never showed up at the club last night. How do we explain where we were?”

  “Tell the truth,” said Lila.

  “What do you mean?” said Ino.

  Toni answered. “You were arrested for underage drinking and released into our custody for counseling.”

  “I don’t think you want to be messing around with these people,” said Ino.

  Lila smiled. “No, I don’t think they want to be messing around with us.”

  “Karavakis won’t be impressed by this.” Ino waved her hands around her.

  “No, but he will by this.” Lila cleared her throat. “Tell him you’ve been enrolled in a program called—” she looked at Toni.

  Toni said, “Fresh Start.”

  “Yes,” said Lila. “Fresh Start. Run by Lila Vardi, wife of Chief Inspector Andreas Kaldis, head of GADA Special Crimes. I think that will shut him up.”

  “Your husband’s a cop?” said Ino.

  Lila nodded.

  “Is he here now?” said Adina.

  “No, he left this morning before we got up. When he gets back, I’ll get him to start working on finding your friend.”

  “That would be great,” said Adina.

  “So,” said Lila, “do we have a deal? Your honesty in exchange for my support?”

  The girls looked at each other before turning back to Lila. “Okay,” they said in unison.

  Toni smiled. “To quote the last line of my favorite movie, ‘I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.’”

  “I know that movie,” said Ino. “Casablanca!”

  Adina smiled. “Of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world, we walked into yours.”

  Lila called for a taxi to pick up the girls and take them to town. Lila told them to keep the sweats, tee-shirts, and flip-flops to wear the next time they visited. Both girls promised to call her tomorrow and make arrangements to come back ASAP.

  “What do you think?” Lila asked Toni.

  “You’re a natural at this.”

  “Thanks, but I meant about the girls.”

  “I think you nailed it. They’re afraid. Afraid of Karavakis, afraid of where their lives are headed. That last part alone draws a lot of kids into drugs. Toss in the prostitution angle, and drugs are almost a sure thing.”

  “Your plan to use the police chief as cover seems to have worked, but I’m happy the girls were out cold when they arrived last night, and sound asleep when the men left this morning. I don’t think Andreas and Yianni would have appreciated the nuances of your plan once the girls started talking about their ties to Karavakis.”

  “I think that’s what’s called an understatement.”

  “It’s the protective nature of men.”

  Some women, too, thought Toni. After all, she still hadn’t mentioned anything to Lila about the motorcycle that might be following her. With everything going so smoothly, she’d seen no reason to create unnecessary alarm.

  Lila picked up the copy of the photograph of the girls with their friend Flora. “I wonder what happened to her?”

  Toni shrugged. “She’s nineteen. Maybe she ran off with one of her clients. I’m more interested in what happened to Yianni and your husband. Yianni crept out like a cat burglar.”

  “Andreas wasn’t quite as thoughtful. I guess those sorts of romantic kindnesses wear off over time.”

  “I’ll take your word on that. Time has never played a part in my romances.”

  Lila laughed. “Are you looking for counseling?”

  “No, just for my boyfriend.” Toni paused. “Wow, I can’t believe I just called him my boyfriend.”

  “If he doesn’t mind, why should you or anyone else?”

  “But I’ve never called him that before. Certainly not to his face.” Toni waved her hand. “Whatever. Where are they?”

  “I don’t know. All Andreas said was that the local police chief called to ask for his help on something a fisherman found.”

  “Is your life always this mysterious?”

  “Not nearly as much as my husband’s,” she paused, then smiled. “Or your boyfriend’s.”

  Chapter Twenty

  The call from Telly came with an apology for its timing, but Andreas had no quarrel with the reason. The primary focus of most police stationed
on Mykonos fell to the enforcement of traffic laws, building codes, and the licensing of business operations, including bars, shops, and hotels. Solving serious crimes was not part of their training or duties. That fell to other police, such as Andreas’ unit.

  In fact, Andreas appreciated Telly’s request for help. Too many local police chiefs jealously guarded their turf, often botching investigations they never should have undertaken. That said, he couldn’t blame Yianni for not sharing his enthusiasm at their early-morning motorcycle jaunt across the island.

  Yianni’d had only two hours sleep, and in light of that, and for both their sakes, Andreas did the driving. He’d thought to take the SUV, but with a houseful of problematic guests, decided it best to leave it with Lila.

  When they met up with the main road in Ano Mera, Andreas turned left and followed it toward its terminus on the southeast shore at Kalifatis Beach. Just before Kalifatis, he turned right onto a dirt road, crossing over an isolated peninsula toward two hills at the end that locals called the “Mounds of Aphrodite.”

  The road turned east at the base of the first mound and ran between a gauntlet of one-story buildings, mainly private homes, rooms to rent, and a taverna. Just past the taverna, he turned left down to a cove behind the building. Tied up at a tiny concrete pier, with its far end and west side open to the sea, sat a maritime police Zodiac and a small fishing boat.

  Telly and two of his cops stood on the pier by the fishing boat, surrounded by three maritime police and an old man with a broad, steel-gray mustache, Greek fisherman’s hat, denim work shirt, and jeans.

  “Looks like an early-morning police prayer meeting,” said Andreas shaking hands with Telly and nodding to everyone else.

  “Thanks, for coming, Andreas.”

  “No problem, glad to help out. So, what do we have here?”

  “As I told you when I woke you—sorry again for that—our friend Petros here,” he pointed to the fisherman, “was reeling in his nets and found a body tangled up in one. No identification on the victim.”

  “Must have been quite a shock,” said Andreas, looking at Petros.

  “Not really,” said Petros with a shrug. “This was a fresh one. Not floating yet.” He sounded clinical, detached from what he’d witnessed. “When they drown, they sink to the bottom. Don’t float for eleven or twelve days in the summer. This one was still down there. That’s how it got tangled in my nets. If it hadn’t, it would likely have ended up in Naxos.”

  Andreas looked at Telly. “Sounds like he has a lot of experience finding bodies in the sea.”

  “I’m sad to say he does. But not here. He’s spent a lot of time as a volunteer on Lesvos, trying to save refugees crossing over from Turkey to Greece. He’s pulled a ton of bodies out of the sea. Alive and dead.”

  Andreas shook his head. “That’s a true tragedy. One seemingly without end.”

  “Let me show you the body,” said Telly. “Petros hauled it on board rather than dragging it behind his boat. It’s laid out at the stern.”

  Yianni and Andreas followed Telly to the edge of the pier but stopped short when the body came into view.

  “Panagia mou! This can’t be happening,” said Yianni, in the Greek’s traditional plea to the Virgin Mary.

  “Can’t be,” repeated Andreas.

  The body lay belly up, face obliterated by an apparent shotgun blast. The victim’s pants gone, likely stripped away to remove any identification in the pockets. Only the shirt remained, covering the rest of the torso in a blue-and-white check pattern.

  “Do you know the guy?” said Telly.

  Andreas ran his hand though his hair, drew in and let out a breath. “Telly, let’s take a walk to where we can talk privately.”

  Andreas led Telly and Yianni twenty meters or so away from the others.

  “We’ve known each other for a long time, and you know I like you.”

  Telly bristled. “Stop with the bullshit—what’s on your mind?”

  “Okay, I’ll put it to you straight. I don’t know, and at this point I don’t even care, what action you’re involved in on this island.”

  Telly tried to speak, but Andreas raised his hand. “Just listen. Like I said, I don’t care. What I do care about is this is likely the third murder connected to at least one of your big players on this island. And God knows how many more there’ll be if he gets away with it. He’s going down, so help me God. And I’d like to think you’re with me on this.”

  “Is that a threat?” said Telly.

  Andreas fixed his eyes on Telly’s. “Absolutely.”

  Telly clenched and unclenched his fists. “What makes you think the murders are connected?”

  “Because the Colonel, the guy who killed the Colonel, and the dead guy on the boat are all tied into Karavakis. More specifically, likely Karavakis and Despotiko’s hotel and casino project.”

  Telly ran his hand across his hairless scalp. “Shit. That project has Interpol and Athens breathing down my neck.”

  Andreas pointed at the boat. “And the guy in the boat is the one who put them there.”

  Telly’s jaw dropped. “That’s Pepe?”

  Andreas nodded.

  Telly stomped his foot on the ground. “Gamoto. They’ll be all over me now.”

  “So, are you with us or not?”

  Telly shook his head and sighed. “Of course, I’m with you.”

  “What do you have to do with the hotel project?”

  “Nothing. I just know about it. To tell you the truth, this makes no sense to me.”

  “Why’s that?” asked Andreas.

  “Because Karavakis told me—in so many words—that he was working on a project that he saw as his chance to go legitimate. At least legitimate, to his way of thinking.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “He knows better than anyone what’s happening on the island. It’s become a magnet for a very dangerous crowd of international bad guys. He knows it’s only a matter of time before they move in on his operations. That means a war, and he feels too old for that. So, he came up with this hotel project and teamed up with Despotiko. He knew the bad guys wouldn’t dare take them both on.”

  “I thought it was up to the Colonel to protect them?” said Andreas.

  Telly shrugged. “With all the crazy money being made here off drugs, hookers, and protection, Karavakis knew that couldn’t last. He decided the safest course in his old age was to build his big resort, concentrate all his businesses there, and leave the rest of the island for the others to fight over.”

  “In other words, only deal with hookers and drugs on his own property?” said Andreas.

  “Like I said, legitimate, to his way of thinking.”

  “I guess he’s had a change of heart,” said Yianni. “Because in killing the Colonel he’s sped up the timetable on an all-out war among competing mobs.”

  Andreas kicked a pebble across the dirt. “That’s true, but what makes even less sense is what’s lying dead in the boat.”

  “I don’t understand,” said Yianni. “Killing Pepe gets rid of a witness who could tie Karavakis into two murders.”

  “But this murder likely killed something very precious to Karavakis,” said Andreas.

  “What’s that?” said Telly.

  “Pepe’s the brother of Karavakis’ only link to the international hotel chain he’s depending on to make his deal work. If the brother somehow sees Karavakis as tied into this murder, his project and all his future plans are likely as dead as Pepe.”

  “Where do we go from here?” said Yianni.

  “As far as I can tell, there’s only one witness left.”

  “Who’s that?” said Telly.

  “If I knew I’d have her in custody.”

  “Like I said, who’s that?”

  “The woman who killed
the Colonel’s assassin.”

  “Considering the number of bodies turning up, what do you think the chances are of her being alive?”

  Andreas sighed. “I’d say between slim and none.”

  “With the way things have been going for us so far,” said Yianni, “those sound like pretty good odds.”

  Telly looked at his watch. “Forensics should be here from Syros within the hour. Maybe they’ll give us something to go on.”

  “What I could use to go on right now is some breakfast,” said Andreas.

  “I’d rather take a nap in the back of Telly’s cruiser,” said Yianni.

  “To each his own,” said Andreas. “Come on, Telly, jump on the back of the bike, and we’ll head off to breakfast to tell each other lies about how our grand service to the nation has made Greece a better place for all its people.”

  Telly smiled. “I see you still believe in myths.”

  Andreas parked in front of a modern-looking taverna a hundred meters or so to the left of where the dirt road to the Mounds of Aphrodite met the main road. It drew more of a dinner crowd, and at this time of day tended to be quiet. The owner knew to leave his customers alone when they wanted privacy, so after making the obligatory fuss at hosting both the current chief and an ex-chief, he sent over a platter of assorted pastries, courtesy of the house, and retreated to a table in a far corner.

  Andreas picked out his favorite, the Mykonian treat kalathakia, named after its shape, which resembled a little basket. Made of walnuts, eggs, sugar, butter, flour, and a dab of marmalade at the bottom, they had been forbidden from entering their house by Lila.

  “So, how’s the family?” said Andreas, taking a bite.

  “My daughter’s almost fourteen, and the boy is a terror at twelve.”

  Andreas grinned. “You mean it gets tougher than battling wits with a five-year-old boy who knows it all?”

  “Yep, brace yourself.”

  “I have a seven-month-old daughter, too.”

  “The boy will seem an angel compared to what’s coming down that road.”

 

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