A Deadly Twist

by Jeffrey Siger

  “That’s just the point. There is nothing to hide. Everything’s already out there.”

  “You know, I thought the same thing. But then I spoke to Nikoletta. And you’ll never guess what she’s learned through her investigative reporting.”

  “You mean she’s a better investigator than our distinguished Chief of Special Crimes,” said the mayor with a slight chuckle.

  “Simply amazing, isn’t it? Why don’t you tell the mayor what you learned from your sources?”

  Nikoletta smiled. “As you’re well aware, Mr. Mayor, during World War II, Nazis plundered Greece. Much of our patrimony went straight to Germany, but some treasures were reported as destroyed. Take for example your island’s School of Commerce, now the Naxos Archaeological Museum.”

  The mayor nodded.

  “Over the years, our Ministry of Culture has documented those destroyed treasures in connection with our nation’s claim for war reparations from Germany.”

  Nikoletta paused to take a sip of water from a bottle in her bag. “In response, Germany submitted its own documentation contesting their alleged destruction and listing specific items claimed to have been destroyed that still existed.”

  “Are you going to believe the Germans?” snapped the mayor.

  She smiled. “No, but the Germans weren’t asking Greece to take their word for it. They provided auction-house records, gallery records, insurance records, private collection records, and other types of reputable third-party documents showing the items to still exist, decades after the war.”

  The mayor pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket.

  “Many of those rebuttal records also reveal the provenance of the items and, lo and behold, guess whose family name, or companies recorded in other Greek ministries as being tied to that family, pop up? Athena’s family appears in the provenance of a plethora of items allegedly destroyed in World War II as owning those items before the war. If true, that would convey legitimacy upon anyone subsequently acquiring an item through the family. But we know, don’t we, Mr. Mayor, that before the war those items were the property of Greek institutions, not private individuals or companies?”

  The mayor said nothing.

  “In some instances, nonfamily members and unrelated companies are listed as participating with the family in ownership of the items.” She paused. “Who those participants are is particularly interesting.”

  More silence.

  “As I said, the German government went to great pains to demonstrate how claims by the Greek government were inaccurate. In its rebuttal documents, Germany listed military officers of the occupying forces, and persons and entities connected to those officers, found to have participated in transactions involving items previously reported by those same officers as destroyed. In many instances, those records show Athena or her children as participants in those transactions.”

  “This is insane! How could that be?” shouted the mayor, exploding out of his chair.

  “If you’re asking from a logistical perspective how such a distinguished Greek family could conspire with Nazi occupiers to steal Greece’s national heritage, the answer’s very easily. The family had both the means and experience necessary for smuggling and disposing of such treasures, and the officers had the incentive. If the Nazis didn’t claim the items were destroyed, they’d be ordered to ship them back to Germany to enrich their superiors. Working with the family made sense for both sides.” Nikoletta shook her head in disgust. “If you’re looking for moral justification for robbing their fellow Greeks, may they find that answer rotting in hell.”

  Andreas cleared his throat. “Allow me to summarize. I think it’s safe to say that this story shatters the image of the family as a stalwart supporter of Greece. After all, how is this going to play out against Nikoletta’s publisher’s crusade to have Britain return the Parthenon Marbles, when his own family pillaged Greece during its moment of greatest suffering?”

  Andreas paused and motioned for the mayor to sit down. “That said, Mr. Mayor, which side of this story of Nazi collaboration and murder do you wish to end up on?”

  He sat quietly.

  A minute passed.

  “Well, say something, already,” said Marco. “This is outrageous. It’s not even an issue open to discussion. We must cooperate immediately with the police.”

  Andreas wagged a finger in Marco’s direction. “I’m so happy you said that. Because something has been percolating in the back of my mind that never quite sat right. I’ve heard that Spyros—you probably know him as Honeyman—was acting as the front man in efforts to acquire beachfront properties on behalf of Athena’s family.”

  “Yes, I’ve heard that too,” said Marco.

  “But I’ve also heard that Honeyman knew his limitations, and negotiating those kinds of potentially sophisticated transactions doesn’t seem to fit within his skillset. Nor do I think his boss—and I think by now we all know who that is—would trust him to be his man on this island in charge of supervising such significant ventures.”

  Marco nodded.

  “I think the big boss would look for someone familiar with the terrain and the people, someone experienced in business who would know which buttons to push and people to reach out to, even if he didn’t do it himself.” Andreas stared at Marco. “Can you think of anyone who might fit that description?”

  “No.”

  “Permit me to put it differently. We are investigating murders here. Anyone tied into doing that family’s business on this island is a suspect. If you know anyone who might qualify for the role of Honeyman’s boss and buffer between him and the big boss, you should encourage him to come forward now. The longer he waits, the closer he gets to a murder charge. And I can promise him that, in my experience, he can expect no assistance from the guy at the top of the pyramid. The only words that guy will say are, ‘I knew nothing about what my subordinates might have done.’”

  Andreas stared at Marco. “In other works, speak up now or be set up later.”

  Marco looked away. “I didn’t do anything wrong. My only dealings on behalf of the family were in connection with its efforts to acquire the properties. All told, this was a huge project. The biggest the family had ever attempted. Sovereign funds were banking on Naxos becoming bigger than Mykonos and were lined up to invest in the project once we acquired the land. It was my job to manage that, but I had to stay behind the scenes if we hoped to get all the necessary properties.”

  He paused to swallow. “If locals learned I was involved, they’d know something big was underway, and there’d be instant organized opposition.”

  Dimitri glared at his friend. “So, that’s why you picked Honeyman to be the face of your project. Someone so ill-regarded by his neighbors that they wouldn’t take him as a serious threat to succeed.”

  Marco looked down, avoiding Dimitri’s eyes. “We needed a low-key, nonthreatening farmer type, but Honeyman was far from my first choice.” He swallowed again, still looking down. “I had no say in hiring him. I was ordered to use him.”

  “Ordered by who?” said Andreas.

  “By the head of the family, Nikoletta’s publisher.”

  Andreas shifted his gaze. “Your turn, Mr. Mayor. Who’s running the family’s operations on the island?”

  It was the politician’s turn to lower his gaze. “The publisher runs all the family’s businesses. The other family members have nothing to do with how he runs them. He treats them all like sheep, paying the six branches of Athena’s family tree equal shares to distribute among themselves. They take what he gives them to maintain their lifestyles and ask no questions.”

  That’s why there are no new initials, thought Andreas.

  He looked at Marco. “If word got out that the publisher’s family had been secretly collaborating with the Nazis against Greece, what effect do you think that would have on the development proje
ct?”

  “It would kill it. Look, the publisher’s potential investors aren’t exactly upright citizens of the world, so I’d think the last thing they’d want to be is ensnared in that kind of emotion-charged public mess. They’d certainly still be interested in the project, but not if it involved the publisher’s family.”

  “In other words, if the family’s Nazi-collaboration past got out, the publisher would see his family’s biggest deal ever disappear. Or, worse yet for a man with his ego, be snapped up by someone else.”

  Marco nodded. “Yes.”

  Andreas stood. “Thank you, gentlemen. I suggest you keep our discussion to yourselves. Not because I’m concerned about any of this getting back to the publisher, but because you might be concerned if that happens. Thanks for your time.”

  Andreas led his group from the mayor’s office, down the stairs, and out of the building.

  Once outside, Andreas turned to Nikoletta. “I’d say you have a pretty big story to write.”

  “Thanks to you.”

  “Just do our chief a favor,” said Yianni, “and leave out the part where he talked about ‘a pernicious evil that’s come into bloom with a vengeance.’ He’ll get razzed about that line for the rest of his life.”

  Andreas showed Yianni an open hand. “I was setting the mood for that pretentious putz of a mayor.” He turned back to Nikoletta. “Do you remember our agreement?”

  Nikoletta nodded. “I received all my information through my sources, and I will never reveal a source.”

  “Perfect. We don’t want Maggie and her friends getting fired because of this.”

  “It shall remain our secret.”

  “By the way,” said Andreas, “you might want to hold off for a day or so on getting your story out there. I sense there are a couple more shoes to drop.”

  “No problem. I’ve got other things to do anyway.”

  “Like what?” said Yianni.

  Nikoletta smiled. “Like finding someone to publish it.”

  * * *

  “Gray puffy clouds drifting across the western sky transformed by hues of orange and gold into flowers, clowns, and big balloons as they pass across the setting sun.” Lila smiled at Nikoletta sitting on a deck chair between Lila and a rattan outdoor couch. “There’s nothing like an Aegean sunset, and sharing such a glorious one as this with my closest friends out here in the fresh air inspires me. Though, to be honest, I think I should leave the descriptive efforts to professionals like you.”

  “No, that was perfect. Besides, I write about crime, not sunsets.”

  “I never tire of sunsets,” said Toni. “Even though they’re really nothing more than nature’s alarm clock, telling me it’s time to get ready to head off to work.”

  “I wish we could share more sunsets,” said Yianni, his head on Toni’s lap and facing west, legs stretched out on the couch.

  She stroked his hair. “Don’t worry; you soon may have the opportunity. I was supposed to be back at my job yesterday.”

  “I’m sure he’ll take you back,” said Lila.

  “He’d better,” said Yianni.

  “So you like the thought of me chained to my piano seven nights a week?”

  “You got that right.”

  Toni smacked him lightly on the head.

  “What’s on the agenda next, Chief?” asked Maggie from a deck chair wedged between the couch and a recliner Tassos had angled toward the house while announcing he’d rather see his friends than another sunset.

  “I head back to Athens first thing tomorrow. There’s not much more I can do here.”

  “What about me?” asked Yianni, sitting up.

  “Take the rest of the week off.”

  “I want to go back to Athens to see Popi and her husband. Thank God they won’t have to remove her spleen, but I bet it’d make her feel a million times better to hear in person what we’ve learned so far.”

  “I can’t argue with that,” said Andreas.

  “Nor can I. As much as I’d like to have you stay with me on Mykonos,” said Toni.

  SMASH.

  “What the hell was that?” asked Tassos.

  “Sounds like something broke one of the big windows by the front door,” said Maggie.

  Andreas stood up from his chair next to Lila and turned to go inside. He took one step toward the doorway and froze.

  Bear stood in the doorway to the terrace, a shotgun aimed at Andreas’s chest. “Like I said, asshole, until next time.”

  Yianni and Tassos jumped to their feet, and Tassos stepped toward the doorway.

  “Don’t try to be heroes. This is between me and him.”

  Andreas motioned with his hand for them to stay back. “Cool it, guys.”

  “You have something of mine.”

  “What would that be?”

  “Don’t play cute. You found it in the sofa. A cool but stupid move.”

  “Well, if we’re speaking frankly, your move is definitely not cool and is seriously stupid.”

  “Just give me the fucking gun.”

  “Sorry, no can do.”

  “You’re pretty cocky now, but what if I start shooting up these pretty ladies?”

  “I still couldn’t give you the gun. I don’t have it.”

  “Who has it? That numbnuts, Dimitri?”

  “Nope.”

  Bear pulled the butt of the shotgun tight against his right shoulder and clenched his teeth. “I’m done talking.”

  “Well, let’s look at the situation. If I had the gun and gave it to you, your smart play would be to leave us alone and at worst face charges surrounding this little performance. So, if I had your gun, why would I risk you killing me and then everyone else in an effort to cover your tracks? Am I getting the general drift of your thinking so far?”

  Bear snorted dismissively.

  “Good, so let me give you another scenario. Walk away now and all you’ll face are charges of owning the gun that killed Honeyman by that marble quarry and his two goons by the airport. With the right friends in high places, you’ll likely get away with little if any time served. But if you go through with this, you just might singlehandedly get Greece to reinstate the death penalty.”

  “You’re full of shit.” He squeezed the gun tighter against his massive shoulder.

  Andreas put up his hand. “Hear me out. There’s no way the guy who ordered those three murders would ever risk doing the dirty work himself. What did he offer you? The chance to take over Honeyman’s place in the food chain?”

  “You’ve no proof of any of that,” growled Bear.

  “True, and even if the ballistics lab that currently has your gun comes back with a report tying your gun to the bullets dug out of those three dead guys, the only provable charge is that you owned the gun. So, do the smart thing and put down the shotgun.”

  Bear’s nerves, plus whatever he’d taken to juice up for this confrontation, had elevated Andreas’s own. He raised his hand to his head and begun running his fingers through his hair. “Put the gun down, Bear.”

  “FUCK YOU.”

  “This is not going to end well for you.”

  “For me? I’m the one about to pull this trigger.”

  “Take a look at your chest.”

  A red dot twitted about the center of Bear’s chest. His eyes jumped to find the source, the barrel of the shotgun drifting in sync with his gaze.

  “Drop the gun.”

  “The hell I will.” As he swung the gun back around toward Andreas, Andreas dropped his hand to his side.

  Bear’s chest imploded a microsecond before the crack of the sniper rifle reached the terrace.

  Bear nearly toppled, and he struggled to turn his gun on Andreas, but Tassos leaped across the terrace and tore it out of the injured man’s hands.

 
“Call an ambulance!” Andreas yelled to Yianni.

  “This guy isn’t going to need one,” said Tassos. “That bullet took out his heart. He’s been running for the last few seconds on pure venom.”

  “Shit.”

  “Why are you complaining? This dirtbag was about to kill you and all of us.”

  “He’s the last witness we had who could tie the publisher to the murders.”

  “Shit.”

  Five other voices said the same.

  * * *

  It was dark by the time the ambulance drove off with Bear’s body.

  Lila stood with Andreas by the terrace doorway looking down at the bloodstains on the marble. The others sat on the terrace, waiting for local police to complete their investigation.

  “How am I ever going to explain to my family’s friend what happened in her lovely home?” asked Lila.

  Andreas put his arm around her shoulders. “Don’t worry; we’ll get someone here first thing in the morning to take care of cleaning all this up and to fix the window he smashed to get in.”

  “How can you be so calm?” She rested her head on Andreas’s chest. “I’m still shaking. He was going to kill you.”

  “But he didn’t. So I put it all behind me. No reason to dwell on it. Just learn from it.”

  “And what did you learn?” said Dimitri, stepping out onto the terrace.

  “That it pays to go with my instincts.”

  “What instincts?” asked Lila.

  Dimitri answered for him. “He told me to arrange to have two men assigned to watch the house until you all left.”

  “That’s what you were talking about with those two cops outside town hall?” asked Yianni.

  “Yeah. Dimitri brought them there so we could meet. He introduced one as a former Greek Special Forces sniper, and I told him to bring along his rifle, just in case.”

  “Why didn’t you tell us?” said Nikoletta.

  “I get somewhat paranoid whenever my family is involved, and I didn’t want to send everyone else off the deep end based on my hunch.”

  “How did the sniper know when to shoot?” asked Toni.

  “We’d worked out three signals. If I brought one hand up to my head and began running my fingers through my hair, it meant dot him on the chest with his sight. If I brought my other hand up so that both my hands were running through my hair, it meant stand down. But if I had only one hand in my hair and dropped it to my side…well, you know what that meant.”