Sons of Sparta: A Chief Inspector Andreas Kaldis Mystery

by Jeffrey Siger

  “I promised not to bust his balls if he told me the truth. And to ground them up into powder if he didn’t.”

  “You do know how to make friends in the department.”

  Andreas shrugged. “He told me the kid ‘wouldn’t get with the program.’”

  “Sounds like a hell of an endorsement.”

  “I took it the same way. He got the kid transferred to a place where all he’ll ever get to do is tell tourists not to take pictures of the building and look tough for photo ops.”

  “Some career.”

  “Which is why he jumped at the chance to keep an eye on Orestes. He reports only to me.”

  “Why do you have such a hard-on for Orestes?”

  Andreas smiled. “Interesting choice of words. You can’t imagine.”

  Lila and Maggie swept into the room.

  “Your little angel is asleep, Chief.”

  “Thanks to Maggie. He listens to her,” said Lila.

  “We all do,” said Tassos.

  “It’s a fear-driven response,” said Andreas.

  Lila laughed. “On that note, dinner is served.”

  “Oh, great. Time for more little boys and their stories.” Maggie winked at Lila. “At least we begin our fairy tales with ‘Once upon a time.’”

  ***

  Kouros didn’t bother to look at the clock when he woke up. He knew it was morning and that was all he wanted to know. He ran his head under the shower for ten minutes, a real waste of water in parched Mani, and after searching around the bathroom he found some long-expired ibuprofen. He swallowed more than prescribed, stared in the mirror, and made the solemn pledge so many have vowed in similar moments of clarity: “If I survive, never again. I promise.”

  He dressed in jeans and a polo shirt and followed the smell of coffee out into the kitchen. His mother handed him a cup as he walked into the room. He made a point not to look her in the eyes, just gave her a quick peck on both cheeks, said “Kali mera,” grabbed two biscuits off the table, and headed out the kitchen door. He didn’t need a maternal lecture, his lesson had been learned through on-the-job experience. Again.

  Kouros walked five paces from the door, closed his eyes, and for a moment did nothing more than concentrate on breathing in the brisk salt air laced with random whiffs of wild herbs. He opened his eyes and stared out across the plateau toward the bare-as-the-moon Saggias Mountains. It was a typical cloudless, brilliant blue-sky day in the Mani. He wondered why he always thought of Mani skies as gray. Maybe it had something to do with the bloody history of the landscape beneath them? Not just from battles against Turks, Franks, Bavarians, Venetians, and so many other would-be conquerors, but in neighbor-against-neighbor savagery as merciless as any World War I trench warfare.

  He shook his head. Hard to imagine all of this ending up as a golf course. Still, these days nothing seemed to remain the same for long where there was money to be made. And it wasn’t as if explorers had come across a lost tribe living a Stone Age existence and, by announcing their find to the world, sealed the doom of their discovery’s ancient ways.

  No, the modern world had always touched the Mani. It just never held on very long, because the Mani had a tendency to burn a dabbler’s fingers. Maybe this time would be different. Kouros sure hoped so. The hard-working strugglers around here could sure use some good luck.

  He wondered how his own life might change if he had money coming in regularly without having to work for it. Make that honest money. He’d never thought about anything like that before. His father raised him to expect to work hard for whatever he wanted. Kouros took a sip of coffee. No reason to start daydreaming about that sort of life now, because it didn’t seem likely the deal would go through, at least not as his uncle had envisioned it. His uncle’s interest in the property had passed to his children, not Kouros. Now it was their call.

  He shook his head, thought of his uncle, and remembered he’d promised Mangas to get the autopsy report off to Athens. He’d noticed a scanner in his uncle’s office. He’d send it as soon as he finished his coffee.

  Coffee. Another memory triggered. The synapses had begun to fire again.

  His uncle’s everyday coffee crew was a bunch of bad guys, no matter how charming and likable they seemed. And whether truly the “council of elders” they fashioned themselves to be, Kouros knew they hadn’t told him anything close to what actually took place in their morning meetings. He might be Uncle’s “favorite” nephew, but he was still a cop and, with Uncle gone, they had little reason to treat him much better than any other Maniot prying into their affairs.

  Still, he had to try. On the surface several had potential motives, most unmistakably Stelios, whose family—maybe even he—once exchanged vendetta killings with Kouros’ family. Yet that seemed too obvious to be likely. But if his uncle had been murdered, everyone was suspect, beginning with those he did business with.

  Kouros finished off the biscuits in two bites and downed his coffee. There would be time for more coffee later, after he’d sent the autopsy report on to Athens and dropped in on his uncle’s crew at the taverna for a more sober chat. Why not? After all, they’d told him he was “always welcome.”

  ***

  It was eleven by the time Kouros walked into the taverna. The only one in the front room was the waitress.

  “May I help you?” she said.

  “Uh, yes, I’m looking for friends of my uncle. They have coffee together here every morning.”

  “Oh, yes, I remember you. You’re the nephew from Athens. They were talking about you this morning.”

  “You mean they’re gone?”

  She nodded. “They’re here every morning at nine and gone by ten-thirty.”

  Wow, he thought. Those old guys drank even more than I did. How did they ever make it out of bed for coffee by nine?

  “They thought you might show up this morning.”

  “Did they say why?”

  She shrugged. “Said you might have more questions about your uncle.”

  So much for the element of surprise, thought Kouros.

  “They left a message for you if you showed up.”

  “What’s the message?”

  “‘The trick is to have water in the glass with your whiskey.’”

  Kouros burst out laughing.

  The girl laughed, too. “Coffee?”

  “Yes, please.”

  He watched her walk toward the kitchen. Tight black jeans, tight white t-shirt, dark hair, dark eyes, great butt. Front not bad either. Kouros’ blood started to pulse. Watching her walk seemed likely to sober him up a hell of a lot faster than coffee.

  She came out of the kitchen with a coffeepot in one hand and a cup and plate of cookies in the other.

  Kouros smiled. “My name’s Yianni.”

  She smiled back. “Stella.” She put down the coffeepot, cup, and plate.

  He held out his hand. “Pleased to meet you.”

  She took his hand and he gripped hers. Neither made an effort to let go of the other. They smiled at each other and he withdrew his hand.

  “How well did you know my uncle?”

  She looked down at the floor. The smile was gone. “Very well. He was a nice man and always kind to me.”

  “Do you know anyone who might have wanted to harm him?”

  “Harm him?” She looked up and seemed surprised. “Do you think it wasn’t an accident?”

  Kouros shook his head. “No, I’m just used to asking those sorts of questions. It comes from being a cop.”

  “You’re a cop?” She seemed afraid.

  “Don’t worry. I know about your incident with immigration. I’m not going to hassle you. You were a friend of my uncle, and that’s good enough for me.” He patted her on her bare forearm.

  Stella smiled and touched his shoulder. “Thank you.”


  “Now will you answer my question?”

  She looked down at the floor. “I only knew him from his mornings here. He always sat with his friends and I never heard anyone say a bad word about him.”

  “Did you ever overhear any talk of threats against him?”

  “No, I never listened to their conversations.”

  Kouros knew she was lying. But, that was to be expected. He was an outsider, and a cop on top of that. She’d be crazy to tell him what her customers talked about, especially those customers.

  “How did my uncle get his morning newspaper?”

  She looked up. “The man who owns the minimarket at the bottom of the hill on the other side of Vathia always delivered it here.”

  “When?”

  “Around eight.”

  “Who’d he give it to?”

  “He’d put it on the table at the place where your uncle always sat.”

  “Did he ever give it to him personally?”

  She gestured no. “He’d have a quick coffee and leave before they got here.”

  “Did anyone ever look at my uncle’s paper before he arrived?”

  She shrugged. “I didn’t. Maybe Babis did once or twice, but I don’t know for sure.”

  “Who’s Babis?”

  “He’s my…my boss.”

  “Where is he?”

  “Right here,” said a booming voice behind Kouros.

  Kouros turned his head and saw a dark, burly Greek of about Kouros’ height, but heavier, standing in the doorway between the two dining rooms.

  “Hi, I’m Yianni Kouros.”

  “What do you want?”

  Kouros smiled. “We met here yesterday after my uncle’s funeral.”

  “Like I said, what do you want?”

  Kouros swung his body around so that he was facing the man head on. “That’s a very inhospitable Maniot way to act.”

  “I’m from Pirgos.”

  Kouros smiled. “That explains it.”

  The man stepped toward Kouros. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Kouros now forced a smile. “Ease up there, Babis. It was a joke.”

  “I don’t like jokes about my hometown.”

  “I have a question for you, Babis. With this hair-up-your-ass attitude how did you ever end up in the hospitality business?”

  Babis took another step toward Kouros. “Listen, malaka, I don’t need your horny sort sniffing around my help. Just have your coffee and get out of here.”

  Kouros glanced at Stella. She’d brought her right hand across her chest to grip her upper left arm and stood staring at Babis’ feet, shaking.

  Kouros stood. “I don’t know what’s with you, but I suggest you get a grip on yourself. I’m just asking questions about my uncle and I’m going to have a few for you, too.”

  “Fuck you,” said Babis, stepping in front of Kouros and grabbing Stella by the arm. “And you, putana, into the kitchen.” He pulled her forward by her arm then flung her back in the direction of the kitchen.

  Kouros stepped between them, his face right up against Babis’. “Hold it right there.”

  Babis glared at Kouros, but it faded into a smile.

  “That’s better,” said Kouros.

  At that instant Babis drew his knee up hard into Kouros’ groin, doubling Kouros over, and drove his elbow down onto the back of Kouros’ head.

  Kouros stumbled forward onto a table. Babis picked up a chair and swung it down at Kouros’ back, but Kouros slid off onto the floor and the chair shattered into pieces against the table. Babis grabbed a table leg and swung wildly at Kouros as he struggled to his feet. Kouros ducked and drove forward, delivering a forearm across Babis’ face that sent him reeling back onto a table. Kouros kept coming, grabbed Babis by his chest, lifted him off the table, and with a quick, powerful open palm thrust to Babis’ jaw, dropped him like rock onto the floor.

  Babis was out cold. Kouros bent over and groaned.

  “Are you okay?” Stella said.

  “No. Definitely not okay.”

  “What do you want?”

  “Ice in a towel.”

  “Maybe heat would be better?”

  “A lot of things would be better, but for now just the ice.”

  Kouros stayed bent over, struggling not to puke. It could have been a lot worse, he thought. He stared at Babis laid out on the floor. “You miserable cocksucker. I should kick the shit out of you.”

  Stella returned with the ice in a towel. Kouros put it on the back of his head.

  “I thought you wanted it for down there.” She pointed at his groin.

  “I’d rather not talk about that at the moment.” He drew in and let out a deep breath. “Does he always behave this way?”

  “Not for a very long time.”

  “Why now?”

  “He’s always been jealous. But…”

  “But what?”

  “He’s not hit me since…” She shook her head and stopped talking.

  “Look, Stella, your boyfriend, boss, whatever, just kicked me in the nuts for no apparent reason, and if you don’t tell me what the hell is going on here, I might just forget what I said before about you and immigration.”

  She studied Babis’ body as if making sure he couldn’t hear her. “Not since your uncle warned him not to lay a hand on me.”

  Kouros stared at Babis. “So he didn’t like my uncle?”

  “He was afraid of your uncle.”

  “He’s not as dumb as he seems.”

  Babis started to stir. Kouros picked up the coffeepot and emptied the contents across Babis’ face.

  Babis smacked at his face, trying to rub off the coffee. “You burned my face!”

  Kouros put the towel filled with ice on the table and straightened up. “Get up, asshole.”

  “I can’t.”

  Kouros stomped the heel of his shoe down on one of Babis’ hands. “I said get up.”

  Babis struggled to his feet.

  Kouros punched him hard in the stomach, sending him back onto the floor.

  “Get up.”

  “I can’t.”

  Again Kouros stepped on Babis’ hand. “I said get up.”

  Babis pulled himself up, but stayed bent over trying to protect himself from another punch. Kouros feigned a jab at Babis’ head, getting him to raise his hands, then faked another to Babis’ midsection getting him to bend again and drop his hands, giving Kouros the perfect opportunity for landing two quick slaps across each side of Babis’ face.

  “Just messing with you, asshole.” Kouros grabbed Babis and pulled him down into a chair.

  “Let me tell you the new rules, asshole. From now on you’ll always be known to me as ‘asshole,’ so unless you want your customers to hear me calling you that to your face, you better keep your ugly face away from me whenever I’m around. Do you understand rule number one?”

  Babis stared at the floor.

  Kouros reached down, grabbed Babis’ chin, lifted it up, and stared him in the eyes. “I said, ‘Do you understand rule number one?’”

  “Yes.”

  “Good.” Kouros waved for Stella to come over. She hesitated. He gestured again and she came.

  “Asshole, if I ever hear of you laying a hand on her, you better get used to walking without kneecaps.” Kouros reached down and squeezed Babis’ cheeks between his thumb and index finger. “Understand?”

  Babis said nothing.

  Kouros shook his head hard from side to side. “I said, ‘Understand?’”

  Babis mumbled, “Yes, I understand.”

  “And if you don’t see me around here for while, don’t think I’ve forgotten about our little deal. My cousins will be keeping an eye on her for me.”

  Kouros did a quick thrus
t of his fist toward Babis’ nose, but stopped just before making contact. It didn’t matter, the thought of what was coming had Babis falling backwards off the chair and striking his head on the stone wall. Kouros picked up the ice-filled towel and threw it at him. “Here, you’ll need this.”

  Kouros headed toward the door, but Stella called for him to stop.

  “Thank you,” she said, tears welling up in her eyes. “You’re as kind as your uncle.”

  Kouros nodded. “My suggestion is that you get yourself another boss. And quick. I don’t see much of a future for you here.”

  Outside, Kouros leaned against the hood of his car. He should have known better than to get in the literal middle of a domestic dispute. The girl’s asshole boyfriend had a hell of a bad temper, one likely simmering near the boiling point for a very long time over Uncle telling him how to treat his woman. Just my luck to remind him I was his nemesis’ nephew.

  Kouros shook his head and let out a sigh. If Babis’ kick to the nuts had been more effective, the crazed man might have beaten him to death. Kouros’ balls hurt, but nowhere nearly as much as they would have if he’d not listened to Andreas’ advice and been wearing that American designed holster that fit around his hips, under his pants and held his backup gun flat against his testicles. Kouros reached down and touched what lay sore but protected beneath the holster.

  “Thanks, Chief. You saved them again.”

  Chapter Nine

  Kouros drove from the taverna up toward Vathia. He doubted the minimarket owner would know anything about the message written in Uncle’s newspaper, but he still had to talk to him. Besides, in a small town gossip was currency, and where better to exchange it than at the place where you came for news about the rest of the world?

  He’d just passed the path leading to the cemetery when his mobile rang.

  “Hi, Maggie. Did you get the autopsy materials I sent you?”

  “Yes. That’s why I’m calling. I sent it all off to our techies, but they just called to say they needed more information. They need the raw info. Photos, recorded media, blood and tissue samples, etcetera.”

  “If we start asking for that, the whole of the Mani will be saying GADA thinks it wasn’t an accident.”

  “Don’t worry, I told the techies to call the coroner and tell him new procedures required that a copy of all material relating to any official autopsy be stored centrally in Athens.”