Murder in Mykonos

by Jeffrey Siger

  ‘That means he planned on using a boat all along.’ Tassos sounded surprised.

  ‘Sure seems that way.’ Andreas kicked a stone. ‘I guess we’re following in his footsteps more than chasing him.’ He sounded frustrated. ‘We need to check out the boats and beaches and coves and—’

  Tassos stopped him. ‘We don’t have enough men to do that. We can’t pull them off the churches. You know they’re still our best bet.’

  Andreas nodded. ‘I know. I’ll ask the port police to help out. The shoreline is their jurisdiction anyway – and they’ve got a helicopter.’

  ‘Where do we tell them to start looking?’ asked Tassos.

  ‘I’d say our killer could be an hour away from here by now,’ Andreas said.

  ‘That means they could be anywhere on Mykonos,’ said Tassos.

  ‘Which is exactly where I’m going to tell them to start looking – any place they can think of where someone in a boat might try to hide from police.’

  Tassos rolled his eyes. ‘Sounds simple enough.’

  ‘Yeah, like everything else in this case.’

  Andreas’ cell phone rang. It was Kouros. ‘Chief, you told me to call you on your mobile if I couldn’t reach you on—’

  Andreas interrupted him. ‘It’s okay. What’s up?’

  ‘I have news on the jeweler.’

  ‘Did you find him?’

  ‘No, but he’s not where he’s supposed to be.’

  Great, thought Andreas, just what we need, another missing hot suspect.

  Kouros continued. ‘One of his salesmen has outstanding DUI warrants, so I pushed him to tell me where his boss was.’

  Good work, thought Andreas.

  ‘He gave me a number in Athens for the jeweler’s girlfriend. When I called and asked for him she started screaming before I even identified myself. Said he wasn’t there and if I wanted to know where he was I should call his wife – because that’s where he told her he’d be staying this trip to Athens. So, I called his wife.’

  ‘Let me guess,’ said Andreas. ‘She had no idea where he was.’

  ‘Yes, she thought he was still on Mykonos, but when I said he wasn’t and identified myself, she suggested I call the girlfriend.’

  ‘She what?’

  ‘Didn’t even seem angry, just told me to call her. I told her I already had.’

  Andreas couldn’t help but laugh at the image.

  ‘That’s just what she did, sir.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Laugh. She said, “Good, now the bastard’s cheating on both of us.”’

  Andreas laughed again. ‘Okay, but does he have any other family you can check with?’

  ‘No, sir. The salesman told me he has no other family. They’ve all passed away.’

  Andreas hung up and shook his head as he told the story to Tassos.

  ‘I wonder where he is?’

  Andreas shrugged and turned to the other cops. ‘Okay, let’s get back to the car.’

  They concentrated on breathing rather than talking as they walked up the hill to the SUV. When they got there Andreas used the radio to call the chief of the port police. Tassos leaned against the driver’s side fender and looked off to the west. The sun had fallen below some of the nearby hilltops, sending their shadows out into the valleys.

  Andreas finished his call, walked over, and leaned on the fender next to Tassos. ‘He’ll have the chopper in the air in thirty minutes, and his boats will be looking for Vanden Haag – with a shaved or covered head – in the company of a man fitting the description of any of our suspects. Probably in an inflatable boat but not necessarily – he could have pulled a switch on us.’

  Tassos seemed in a trance. ‘Sunset is my favorite time of day,’ he said, and let out a sigh. ‘But I’m afraid it’s coming on a mite too quickly for me today.’ He turned his head toward Andreas. ‘You know, in a couple of hours it’s going to be too dark to hunt by helicopter, and if they try chasing him down in the dark by boat, it’s way too easy to toss her overboard.’

  Andreas nodded his agreement and reached for his cigarettes. ‘The boys found something else inside the mines.’

  Tassos didn’t say anything; he was back to staring at the sunset.

  ‘Relic digs. I think our killer’s involved in the stolen-antiquities market.’

  Tassos seemed unfazed. ‘Not surprised. These hills are full of them – many stolen centuries ago from Delos and hidden, misplaced, or simply reused as building materials here. Not sure how valuable any of them are.’ He paused but didn’t move his eyes.

  Andreas joined him staring west. ‘I wish I knew what’s behind all these . . . these human sacrifices. I’m sure his serial-killer traits are off the charts, but why the ritual-sacrifice angle? And how do those paintings on the ceiling of saints and underworld gods tie in to all this? Do you think there’s a connection to the relics?’

  Tassos’ tone remained the same. ‘Don’t know, but in today’s world some movie or TV program on human sacrifice in some ancient civilization could have set him off.’ He paused. ‘Maybe that Mary Renault book did it – the one about your lady with the cord, Ariadne, getting mixed up in human sacrifice on Naxos.’ He gestured toward that neighboring island. ‘Or even a news story on those crazies still doing it in parts of India and Africa.’ He paused again. ‘He’s probably twisted so many things up inside his head even he doesn’t know what’s driving him anymore. I don’t see much of a chance of us ever knowing what pushed him over the edge, but I do think we’ll identify him. It’s only a question now of when.’

  Andreas offered him a cigarette, and Tassos took one. ‘Do you remember the story of Saint Kiriake?’ Andreas asked.

  ‘She was a young woman martyred by pagans who tried torturing her into denying her faith.’

  Andreas lit Tassos’ cigarette and then his own. He drew in a puff and slowly let it out without saying a word; when he did, he sounded like a preacher. ‘Yes, but what first attracted the pagans’ attention was her extraordinary beauty. No matter what tortures or guiles they tried, she wouldn’t give in. God protected her and healed her wounds – even destroyed a pagan temple and a few of her tormentors in the process.’

  Tassos took a puff on his cigarette before speaking. ‘Sounds like a plan. Let’s just hope Kiriake can get some of that action working for Vanden Haag tonight.’

  ‘Amen to that.’

  21

  When it came to schmoozing, the mayor was one of Greece’s best. Once he locked on, there was no graceful escape from his bottomless pit of conversation. Catia was learning that firsthand. He’d not left her side since she introduced herself as the sister of the deputy minister. Despite all the mayor’s words, he hadn’t told her much more than that the police were doing everything humanly possible to find Annika and expected to do so soon. When she said she appreciated all that he and her brother had done to organize the search, Catia caught what she thought was a puzzled look on his face, but he quickly offered lengthy praise for her brother’s help and commitment to the search.

  No matter how many ways she asked whether Annika was in danger, his answer always was ‘I sincerely hope not.’ The mayor dismissed the taxi driver’s reference to ‘another girl’s body’ as a product of ‘uninformed village gossip’ growing out of an ‘isolated, unrelated crime’ involving some of those ‘wrong types’ now allowed into Greece. He was certain a woman of Annika’s ‘obvious character’ would not associate with such a ‘bad element’ and with ‘hundreds’ of police searching by ‘land, sea, and air,’ she’d be found ‘before too long.’ When she pressed him for a more definitive time line, he shrugged and said, ‘Soon.’

  Her impatience at his stalling was about to erupt when a fast-moving helicopter suddenly shot over the taverna. Without looking up, the mayor smiled broadly. ‘See, it’s like I told you. It’s the port police flying out to find your daughter. It’s only a matter of time. Trust me.’

  It was the perfect phrase for turning her impatie
nce into alarm. She must call her brother immediately.

  The pilot and copilot were told to look for a middle-aged man and a kidnapped young woman in – probably – an inflatable boat. That hardly narrowed the search. Practically every yacht afloat used inflatables, and the idea had caught on. Now everyone could act like part of the yachting set for the price of a blow-up boat. They had a lot of hovering to do before sunset.

  They swept north out of the airport over Panormos Bay and its popular, clothing-optional beaches. Even late in the day, the beaches were packed with partiers. The pilots took a quick peek at the bodies on the beach and moved on to hover over the occupied boats anchored offshore. There were a lot of naked bodies in those boats and a few explicit acts going on undisturbed by their presence. One couple in a Zodiac even waved at the chopper in the midst of their humping. The guy looked middle-aged and the brunette looked young, but from the way they were going at it they seemed happy enough. Besides, there was another middle-aged man/young woman couple doing the same thing at the same time on the deck of a nearby sixty-foot sloop. Just another typical summer day in the air over Mykonos beaches.

  The chopper flew out of the bay, turned east, and ran along the north shoreline in the direction of the mines. They decided to search the rarely used coves and beaches along the north and east coasts first. Then on to Tragonisi, a tiny, deserted island two thousand yards east of Mykonos, once favored by pirates and still by smugglers for its secret caves and hidden inlets. That was where they were betting their man would feel safe. Time to surprise the bastard.

  He kept thrusting for a few minutes longer just to be sure. He stopped and listened. No rotors. He turned his head and scanned the sky. Nothing. He sat up and looked around at the other boats, then down at her. She was breathing faster and stronger than before. He couldn’t believe their brief, adolescent dry-humping session was bringing her around.

  He’d had her lying atop the bow cushions on her stomach – as if sunbathing nude – when he heard the helicopter. He’d done the first thing he could think of to hide – be obvious. He’d pulled off his pants and lifted her to the floor. Then spread her legs, gripped his fingers in hers, and did what he could to make it look convincing – even lifted one pair of interlocking fingers in a wave. It worked.

  Now what to do? They were anchored far enough out not to attract attention from shore, and the other boaters were into their own thing. Still, he wanted to get out of here. She could wake up any minute, and he had no drugs to give her. He’d left it all back at the cell when he ran. He wanted to tie and gag her but didn’t dare in daylight – too many people around.

  His original plan was to hide in one of the caves to the east – or on Tragonisi – until it was time to take her to the church. He’d started off in that direction but changed his mind. Being chased by police wasn’t part of his plan, and those caves were the logical first place they’d look. He’d decided to turn west and hide in the open among tourists who still believed all was perfect in paradise.

  He looked at the sky. It would be hours until dark. He wanted to move out to sea but knew he couldn’t with that helicopter still searching for them. If she woke up here, she’d start screaming. He sat quietly staring at her. Slowly, and with great care, he covered her with the gray dress, stood up, put on his pants, and went to fetch the bowline. He improvised a garrote and placed it next to her throat. If she slept until dark, she lived; if she woke, she died.

  Deputy Minister Renatis had no idea what his sister was talking about: a massive search for Annika? He asked to speak to the mayor. The mayor was his usual political self – all words, no substance.

  ‘Minister, you must know your niece is very important to us and we’re sparing nothing in our search to find her.’ He smiled at Catia.

  ‘What’s all this about another body – and what’s that got to do with my niece? I want to know now.’ He spoke like an angry boss.

  The mayor lowered his voice – presumably so Catia couldn’t hear but possibly as a supplicant to the deputy minister. ‘A young tourist woman was found murdered a few days ago, and the police are concerned the same killer may have your niece.’

  The phone was silent for so long the mayor must have thought the connection had failed.

  ‘Why wasn’t I told?’ Spiros asked in a voice as cold as stone.

  The mayor paused. ‘Didn’t the chief call you about it? I thought he had.’

  Spiros didn’t answer. He was certain the mayor was just another politician instinctively trying to pass blame, but he remembered that he’d been avoiding Andreas’ calls. Perhaps that’s what the chief was calling about. He asked to speak to his sister.

  ‘Catia, I’m leaving immediately by helicopter to be there with you. Don’t worry, we’ll find her.’

  Silence.

  He tried sounding reassuring. ‘Our very best men are on this. We’ll find her. I promise. You must believe me. I’m leaving now for the heliport.’ He looked at his watch. ‘And I should be there in forty-five minutes. Around nine.’

  He heard a meek ‘Okay, I’ll be waiting for you.’

  He was angry at himself for ducking Andreas, but that didn’t excuse what was going on in Mykonos without the knowledge and authority of his ministry. Heads were going to roll. He’d see to that personally. But first, he must get to Mykonos and take charge of this mess.

  Andreas and Tassos personally checked every church to Saint Kiriake located outside of town. None of the police at those churches had a thing to report. There was nothing in or under the churches and no sign of the woman or a potential suspect. Andreas wondered if the men sensed how wound up he was. Tassos didn’t seem much better. They barely spoke as they drove from church to church. Now they were headed to town.

  The crackle on the police radio made them both jump. Andreas answered, ‘Kaldis here.’

  ‘Andreas, where are you?’ It was the mayor and he sounded panicked.

  ‘About five minutes from the harbor.’ Andreas put the radio on speaker so Tassos could hear.

  ‘I am at the taverna in Ano Mera. Get here as soon as you can. We have a problem.’

  Andreas looked at Tassos. ‘What sort of problem, Mr Mayor?’

  ‘The missing woman’s mother is here, and her brother – the deputy minister – is on his way from Athens by helicopter. He’s supposed to be here by now.’

  Andreas’ voice was flat, though his blood pressure must have soared. ‘Thank you. Tell them I’ll be there as soon as I can.’

  ‘But—’

  Andreas switched off the radio.

  ‘Guess we should get over there,’ said Tassos.

  ‘First we have to check out the churches in town. Getting reamed out by the deputy minister isn’t going to help find his niece.’ Andreas seemed in a trance.

  ‘Okay, but let’s do it quickly. No reason to piss off our executioner – His Honor the deputy minister – any more than we already have.’

  * * *

  Annika felt the cold in the wind off the sea. The sky was black except for the stars and a bit of moonlight. She’d been curled up on her side on the floor of the boat for what seemed forever, but she knew it was only since he’d raped her – or tried to rape her. She wasn’t sure. She’d been groggy and had no strength when he’d pulled her to the floor, but she tried to resist – at least she thought she had. Now she felt bloated – pain too – everywhere down there, and couldn’t breathe through her nose. Her wrist was hurting again too. The good news was her senses were back.

  She was facing forward and knew he was somewhere behind her. Her instinct was to turn and confront him, but she could hardly move, let alone fight. Besides, she was still alive and untied; probably because she’d been unconscious. Things can only get worse once he knows I’m awake, she thought. She considered pulling herself overboard but doubted she had the strength to do it and certainly not enough to make it to shore – wherever that was. She decided to lie quietly and listen. She’d make her move when she had more stren
gth – or no other choice.

  It had taken about an hour in the dark to get the boat from Panormos Bay to where they now sat. She’d never woken up, even when they crossed in front of the frenetic Mykonos harbor in full view of two idling police boats. He’d gambled on a lot of small boats heading in the same direction at the same time, making him just another anonymous little duck on the pond. He had been right.

  His voice was very soft when he began talking to her. He spoke in Greek as if he knew she was conscious but wouldn’t understand a word of what he was saying. He was wrong about that.

  There was nothing in the town’s churches. Now it was all wait and see. As they pulled up to the taverna, Andreas wondered what the hell he was going to tell her mother. He wasn’t even thinking about what to say to her brother, his boss.

  Tassos was the first one out of the car. Andreas looked at his watch: ten-thirty. A woman was walking quickly toward them. She had to be the mother. Andreas got out and walked over to meet her.

  He could tell she’d been crying. ‘I’m sorry to be late, Mrs Vanden Haag,’ he said, trying to sound confident and professional, ‘but I had to make sure everything was ready.’

  She grabbed his arm. ‘Please, tell me what’s happened.’ She didn’t have to say she was worried to death.

  Her brother and the mayor walked over, and Andreas nodded an acknowledgment. ‘I’m sure the mayor has told you—’

  She squeezed his arm. ‘No, please, you tell me. Tell me everything.’

  He looked into her eyes, then down at the ground for a moment before looking at Tassos. It was just the five of them. ‘Sure,’ he said, and looked her straight in the eyes. It took about fifteen minutes. He told her everything, as if he were confessing. No one interrupted him, and when he finished, Catia was silent.

  It was her brother who spoke, his voice rising. ‘You think my niece is being held by a serial killer who’s been murdering tourist women on Mykonos for almost twenty years?!’