A Deadly Twist

by Jeffrey Siger

  “Have you ever seen him before?”

  “No, or after.”

  “What did he look like?”

  “Your height, a bit stocky, ruddy complexion, dark, normal-length hair, dark eyes, in his thirties.”

  “His ethnicity?”

  “No idea, I never heard him speak. He could have been Eastern European, American, or even Greek. I’ve no way of telling.”

  That fits the description of the guy who did a header onto the rocks below Nikoletta’s hotel.

  “What about the bartender who waited on him. Where can I find him?”

  “You mean her. I wish I knew. The staff in this place turns over before I can even learn their names. They move on as soon as they find a better job, whether here or on another island. I’m just happy if they give me notice.”

  “Do you have a name for that bartender?”

  “Uh, that’s a bit complicated.”

  “No working papers? So no legitimate name.” Yianni shook his head.

  “Hey, I was trying to help you out. Now you’re going to burn me?”

  “Don’t worry, I’m not going to turn you in. Just promise not to do it again.”

  “Sure. Promise.”

  Good chance of that one being kept.

  “Thanks,” said Stelios, hurrying off as if afraid to test his luck with further conversation.

  As Yianni walked back to the hotel, he put his conversation with the bar owner out of his mind to focus on his next challenge: telling Toni that their weekend plans were canceled.

  * * *

  “Hello.”

  “Sorry to bother you at work, but I know you take a break fifteen minutes before every hour.”

  Toni looked at her phone. “It’s a quarter to three, and there’s no one on the phone except you and me, so what’s the story you have to tell?”

  “One that I hope won’t dampen your sense of humor.”

  “Try me.”

  “The case that has me on Naxos is going to keep me here through the weekend.”

  “Whew, I thought it might be something serious, what with this being so far past your bedtime. We’ll do Athens another time. After all, it’s not going anywhere.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Well, I can’t say I’m not disappointed. I was looking forward to seeing you.”

  “Me too.” Yianni paused. “You could come over here. I’ll still have to work, but at least we could be together part of the time.”

  “Does Naxos have beaches, bars, and restaurants?”

  “Great ones.”

  “Fine, then count me in. I’ll find some way to keep myself occupied while you’re busy elsewhere.”

  “I’m not sure I like that proposal.”

  Toni laughed. “It’s no different than the sort of life I live over here on Mykonos without you. Need I remind you that I’m the experienced partier in this relationship? So, what is it, big boy, Naxos or nyet?”

  “If Greece had you negotiating its bailout with the European Union, we wouldn’t be in the mess we’re in today.”

  “That’s not an answer. I’ll give you until tomorrow to make up your mind.”

  “You mean today.”

  “Whatever day is Friday. I can catch the first boat to Naxos Saturday morning.”

  “Excellent. Just let me know the boat’s name so I can arrange for you to be picked up by the hotel if I can’t be there.”

  “Works for me. Time for you to get to bed, and me to get back to work.”

  “Miss you.”

  “Miss you too. Kisses.”

  The EU wouldn’t have stood a chance against her.

  Chapter Four

  Andreas couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept past dawn. With two young children, one of them always found a way to serve as his wake-up call. Lila and he had live-in help who could tend to the children, but Andreas looked upon these early-morning moments as his only guaranteed time with his children, because his evenings far too often belonged to the vagaries of what awaited him each day in his office.

  Lila never interfered with her husband’s first thirty minutes of daybreak playtime, but then she’d show up and impose order on the chaos her husband seemed ingenious at creating. After all, Tassaki had to get ready for kindergarten, and Sofia needed some semblance of a schedule. All of which meant that by eight each morning, Andreas was out the door and on his way to GADA.

  This morning he arrived in his office to find three voicemails from Nikoletta’s editor, each a bit more frantic than the one before.

  There was also a message from Yianni describing what he’d learned from the bar owner and promising to call in at nine. Andreas dialed the number left by the editor.

  The phone had barely rung once when Andreas heard, “It’s about time you called back.”

  “Morning, Giorgos. You should be honored. I’m actually calling before my first cup of coffee. So, what has you so riled up?”

  “MY REPORTER IS STILL MISSING!”

  “I know that. It’s why I have my best detective working around the clock on Naxos to find her.”

  “Well, get more people over there.”

  Andreas drew in and let out a quick breath. “There must be another reason why you left three messages for me in less than an hour, other than to bust my balls over how I assign my overworked, underpaid staff.”

  “He left me a message.”

  “Who did?”

  “The hacker, or at least someone acting as if he’s the hacker.”

  Andreas’s voice tightened. “When did you receive it, how did you get it, and what did it say?”

  “I found it on my voicemail when I got up this morning. The voice sounded like it had been through a scrambler, and he told me not to worry, Nikoletta was safe, and he was protecting her from those who might wish to do her harm. He said he knew the police were looking for her on Naxos, but they would never find her unless she wanted them to.”

  “Unless she wanted them to? Did he actually use those words?”

  “Those precise words.”

  “Sounds like someone is trying to slow down the search by suggesting all’s fine. But it’s a rather bizarre way to do it, since it suggests a Stockholm-syndrome situation in the making.”

  “My feelings exactly.”

  “Then again, the call could’ve been a phony,” said Andreas.

  “Could be. There are a lot of crank callers out there. I’ll send over a copy of the voicemail to your office for analysis.”

  “Better yet, bring us your phone. Our lab might be able to pick up more from it than off a copy of the message.”

  Giorgos’s voice tensed. “I’ve got a lot of other things on that phone. Confidential things.”

  “I’m sure. It’s why I suggested you bring it over. Watching what the lab guys do to your phone might give you peace of mind.”

  “I’m expecting nothing of the sort until Nikoletta’s found, safe and sound.”

  Andreas paused. “On that point, I’ve reconsidered your request to assign more people to look for her.”

  “How many more?”

  “Just one. For now.”

  “One? You think that’s going to make a difference?”

  “My wife thinks the world of him.”

  “Your wife? What—” Giorgos chuckled. “Okay, wiseass, when do you leave for Naxos?”

  “ASAP.”

  “I really appreciate that.”

  “Understood.”

  “Have you found anything helpful in her notebooks?”

  “Just a lot of possibilities to follow up on.”

  “Any chance of an ID on the hacker from her sketchbook?”

  Andreas sat up straight in his chair. “What sketchbook?”

  “She always carries a sketchb
ook with her to draw images of the people she met and places she visited. Interviewees don’t always care for cameras, so she sketches them later from memory. We don’t put them in her articles, but she saves them in case a source later denies giving her the interview.”

  “Where did she keep her sketchbook?”

  “Usually in the back pocket of her jeans. It’s about the size of a thin paperback with a simple brown leather cover. She never goes anywhere without it.”

  “What are the chances it contains a drawing of whoever called you?”

  “If she interviewed him, I’d say it’s a given.”

  “My detective didn’t find it in her room. That’s too bad. It’d be helpful to know what our kidnapper looks like.”

  “You think she was kidnapped?”

  “She disappeared, no one’s heard from her, and you receive a call from a stranger telling you not to worry, she’s safe, because he’s protecting her. If not a crank call, it sure sounds like a kidnapping to me. Which makes it all the more important that you—and your publisher—don’t let the story get out to your media colleagues.”

  “But the caller didn’t ask for ransom.”

  “All that means is money isn’t why he took her.”

  “Shit.”

  “And that he’s likely a psycho.” Andreas’s other phone line rang. “Gotta run, it’s my detective calling from Naxos. Let me know the moment you hear anything more from Nikoletta’s protector.”

  Andreas hung up on Giorgos and answered the other line with a grunted “Yes?”

  “That’s a cheery greeting to hear first thing in the morning.”

  “It’s not the first thing in the morning, and I’m not in a cheery mood. I made the mistake of answering my phone before having my first cup of coffee and haven’t been able to get one yet.”

  “At least you had the chance to wake up. I may need to glue my eyelids open. I haven’t slept. I tried, but my mind kept running through all the things Nikoletta wrote about the people she interviewed. The interviews are blending one into another, and I’ve got to talk to the mayor in an hour.”

  “I’m sure you’ll handle it fine, but just in case you’d like to slow down, take a nap, or maybe even spend some time at the beach, don’t worry, everything’s under control.”

  “Uh-oh. What bad news are you about to drop on me?”

  “Nikoletta’s editor just received a voicemail from her potential kidnapper telling us not to worry, he’s protecting her.”

  “What?”

  Andreas filled him in on his conversation.

  “I never saw a sketchbook,” said Yianni, “and I searched her room thoroughly.”

  “I know, but when you have the chance, take another look at it from the perspective of someone looking for a hiding place.”

  “I’ll do it as soon as I get off the phone.”

  “Don’t run off just yet. Have you told Dimitri that the bar owner’s description of a stranger hanging out in his place the night Nikoletta met the hacker matches the dead tourist?”

  “Not yet. I plan on telling him when he picks me up this morning. That should spice up his morning almost as much as you’ve done mine.”

  “I have some good news for you too. I’m coming to Naxos tomorrow to help with the investigation.”

  “Terrific. I can definitely use the help running down suspects.”

  “Maybe you’ll get lucky in your meeting with the mayor.”

  “Who knows, but it should be interesting. I hear he plans on turning it into a PR event to announce the disappearance of the reporter and claim the local police chief isn’t competent to handle the investigation—as evidenced by the fact that Athens sent me here.”

  “I was afraid of something like that. Why avoid taking a swipe for political gain, even if it risks a woman’s life? Does the mayor know you’re friends with the chief?”

  “Dimitri’s the one who told me, so I doubt it.”

  “Sounds like you’re in for a hell of a morning.”

  “The good thing is, it’ll at least wake me up.”

  “Some folk like to get their morning jolt from a cup of strong coffee, others opt for bare-knuckles conflict. I guess you fall into the latter category.”

  “Frankly, I prefer sex, but since that’s currently unavailable, I think I’ll have to settle for doing my best at screwing the mayor.”

  “On that, I think I’ll say goodbye and leave you to your good times.”

  * * *

  Dimitri had left a note for Yianni with the hotel receptionist apologizing for not arranging to pick him up for his meeting with the mayor, but since the mayor hadn’t invited Dimitri to attend, it seemed best that Yianni not show up with a police escort. Instead, he left Yianni the keys to an unmarked motorbike parked outside the hotel.

  Greeks and their intrigues. They never end.

  Yianni’s drive to Naxos’s town hall took considerably longer than he anticipated. From a map, he’d estimated five minutes, but a gnarled web of one-way streets filled with tavernas, shops, hotels, and tourists anxious to get to the beach made it seem as though he’d never get there. After twice finding himself caught in a loop taking him away from town hall, he decided to make up a route of his own. He made a U-turn and headed due south along the harbor front aimed directly for town hall, ignoring a host of ONE WAY and DO NOT ENTER signs along the way—not to mention a flurry of honking horns and salty gestures from oncoming drivers.

  Town hall overlooked the southern end of the harbor and served the Naxos and Small Cyclades Municipality governing Naxos and its neighboring smaller islands of Iraklia, Schinoussa, Koufonissia, and Donoussa, among others. Of Naxos’s 18,400 residents, 13,000 lived in Chora and its environs, which meant approximately seventy percent of the population lived within roughly thirty percent of the island’s territory. The balance lived in the sparsely populated but much larger rural territory north, east, and south of Chora. Police divided coverage responsibilities between headquarters in Chora and an auxiliary office at the center of the island in Naxos’s second largest village, Filoti.

  Yianni parked directly in front of the town hall in a spot overlooking a smaller replica of the massive marble Sphinx of Naxos donated nearly 2,600 years ago by the people of Naxos to the Temple of Apollo at Delphi. Town hall’s modern-day version of that ancient guardian stared straight out to sea, ever vigilant for any sign of danger headed its island’s way.

  The relatively new, two-decade-old town hall bore no resemblance to any ancient architectural style associated with the sphinx, and little to the old town’s distinctly thirteenth-century Venetian influence. Still, its neoclassical design, ecru stucco front, and parallel rows of turquoise windows framed in white marble sublimely complemented the Kastro’s three-hundred-year-old former School for Girls—perched high atop the old town in the ideal spot for looking down upon her much younger brother.

  The town hall’s main entrance stood between a pair of Doric columns supporting a second-story marble balustrade and terrace fronting a set of French doors. From his experience with other town halls, Yianni assumed the French doors and Il Duce–style balcony opened into the mayor’s office.

  Yianni stepped into the vestibule leading to the main entrance and reached for the door handle, but there was none. He tried pushing against the door, but it wouldn’t budge. He could see people inside, but no one stepped forward to open the door. As obvious a grand entrance as it was, this wasn’t the way in.

  He turned around, looked left, looked right, went left, and made another left at the end of the building. There he found an open door leading into a short hallway lined with offices.

  He smiled. His superstitious aunt would say he’d just received a message from the gods: Be wary of the obvious.

  Chapter Five

  As soon as Yianni stepped inside, a man asked if he was there for the
press conference.

  “No, I’m here to meet with the mayor.”

  “About what?”

  Yianni smiled. “I don’t mean to sound rude, sir, but my business doesn’t concern you. The mayor’s expecting me, so why don’t you just tell him Detective Kouros is here to see him?”

  “Oh, so you are here for the press conference. The mayor left instructions for you to go directly inside.” He pointed toward an atrium at the center of the building, where a lone olive tree grew beneath a pyramid-shaped skylight. A second-floor balcony, trimmed with scenes from classical Naxos, encircled the atrium floor.

  At one end of the atrium, reporters milled about a podium, waiting for a press conference to begin. Yianni shouldn’t have been surprised. It wasn’t often that a mayor from a traditionally non-newsworthy island had the opportunity to draw national coverage. Announcing the now-famous reporter’s disappearance would make headline news for sure.

  Yianni recognized some of the reporters from Athens and stood back from them, not wishing to draw their attention.

  “Detective Kouros, how nice of you to show up.”

  Yianni swung around to see a short, well-tanned man with a bouncing belly, badly dyed brown hair, and a well-rehearsed smile.

  “I’m sorry, sir. I don’t believe we’ve met.”

  “I’m the mayor.” He extended his right hand. “The receptionist told me you’re here, and I came right down.” He pointed to a staircase behind him. “After all, we don’t want to keep the press waiting.”

  “Excuse me, sir, but I’m not here for a news conference. I’m here to ask you about your meeting with Nikoletta Elia.”

  “All in good time.” He patted Yianni on the shoulder. “But first we must alert the press and my fellow Naxians to what has befallen her and assure them that we, their public servants, are doing all that we can to find her.”

  “We are. But having a news conference to announce her disappearance and my unit’s involvement could endanger her life.”