“Men are really dumb when it comes to women. They don’t even know how to deal with other men when it comes to women. If one man tells another man that the woman he’s attracted to isn’t right for him, it drives the other man to find reasons why she is, if only to justify to himself why he was attracted to her in the first place. If you let Yianni work this out on his own he’ll realize she’s not right for him.”
“And what if he doesn’t?”
“Then may they live happily ever after.”
Andreas shook his head. “I’ll never understand women.”
Lila nodded. “I know, I’m afraid you never read beyond the chapter on animal attraction.” She smiled.
Andreas waggled his eyebrows. “Is that an invitation?”
Lila laughed. “Up until your Groucho Marx moment the thought had crossed my mind. Where did you pick up that eyebrow thing?”
“It made Tassaki laugh, so I thought I’d try it on you.”
“Stick to flowers, chocolates, and—” Lila jumped.
Andreas had slid his hand under the covers and swept his fingers down between her thighs.
“And this?”
Lila slid down from up against the headboard onto the bed, put her arms around his neck, and whispered in his ear, “Forget about the chocolates.”
“And the flowers?”
“Negotiable.”
Andreas turned off the light.
“Deal.”
***
When Kouros was a kid, he’d had all sorts of trouble with authority figures, though he never quite put his mother in that category. After all, she was different; she was his mother. His father learned early on that the best way to get his son to go along was to play to his conscience. “All I ask, son, is that you listen to what I have to say, and if you do, I’ll back you one hundred percent in your decision, even if I disagree.”
That put quite a burden on a headstrong teenager, for if he did the wrong thing he’d also bring shame upon his father. When his father died, that structural discipline to his life collapsed, and but for his fathers’ military buddies convincing him to join the Navy, Kouros shuddered to think about how he might have turned out.
Or if he hadn’t met the Chief.
Still, it riled him to be lectured by Andreas on his personal life.
Especially when the malaka was right.
Chapter Twenty
The early morning autumn air had taken on a noticeable chill and it didn’t feel much different inside Uncle’s house. Perhaps Calliope liked it that way, or maybe it was Kouros’ imagination playing off the icy expression on his cousin Mangas’ face.
“Sit,” said Mangas, pointing to a chair across from him at the kitchen table. “Calliope, make us coffee and leave us be.”
Kouros sat.
Calliope silently brewed and served the coffee. She put out no cookies, walked to the sink, leaned back against it, and crossed her arms. “I’m not leaving. I want to hear this.”
“This is not for women,” barked Mangas.
“I’m your sister and your father’s daughter. I’m not moving.”
Mangas gritted his teeth, drew in and let out a deep breath. He stared at Kouros. “You’re lucky Calliope isn’t chanting a mirologia over your body today.”
Kouros nodded. “I know.”
“What were you doing there?”
“Cut the crap. You know what I was doing.”
“I mean besides that. It couldn’t have been just to ball the girl.”
Kouros bit at his lower lip. “We thought someone besides Babis might have been involved in your father’s murder. I went there to find out what she knew.”
“Who’s we?”
“My boss, Andreas Kaldis.”
“Did you get an answer?”
Kouros picked up his coffee and took a sip. “Yes.” He looked at Calliope. “May I have some cookies, please?”
Calliope stared but did not move.
“Calliope, get your cousin some damn cookies.”
She uncrossed her arms, opened a cupboard, took out a tin, placed it in front of Kouros, and returned to her place at the sink. She’d offered him no plate.
“Thank you.” Kouros opened the tin, took out a cookie and bit into it. “Yes, we know who did it and why he did it. Now it’s just a matter of catching him. Which we will do. I promise you he’ll go to prison.”
Veins bulged in Mangas’ neck. “I want him.”
“I know you do, but we don’t do things that way anymore.”
“He should die.”
“Greece doesn’t have the death penalty.”
“The Mani does.”
“Ease up on the drama, cousin. We’re going to get him. No need to start a war. It’s only one man, not a family thing.”
“I knew it,” Calliope screamed. Both men jerked their heads around to look at her as she shook her fists at the heavens. “That miserable bastard. I told father to have nothing to do with him. That he was not of our kind. We should have killed him when we had the chance and father would still live.”
“Who are you talking about?” said Mangas.
“The devil. That Ukrainian who wanted to build his hotel on our land.” She spit at the floor.
Mangas turned his head to look at Kouros. “Is that true?”
Kouros gestured no. “It’s not the Ukrainian. The one who killed your father also got Babis to kill himself, and hoped to kill the girlfriend in a way that would make you think the Ukrainian was behind all three murders.”
“But why?”
“To stop the hotel project.”
“I can’t believe all this over a golf course.”
“Come on, Mangas, you had to know about the Ukrainian and his arms dealing.”
“How would I?” He banged his fist on the tabletop, spilling a bit of his untouched coffee. “I didn’t know anything about the hotel deal until Father told us about it here the day before he died.”
Kouros looked at Calliope. “But you knew.”
“Of course she knew. She lived with him.”
“They would meet here. Sit at that very table. I would serve him coffee.” She spit again. “Father swore me to secrecy. He knew I’d find out about his plans and the Ukrainian’s background. I pleaded with him not to trust the Ukrainian.” With her right hand she pulled at the left sleeve of her black mourning dress. “It had to be the Ukrainian.”
“No, it wasn’t. I’ll tell you who, but first, Mangas, you must promise you’ll let us handle this.”
Mangas smiled. “Well, since you said he’ll end up in prison, that’s almost as good as turning him over to us.”
“I want your word you won’t go after him.”
“I promise not to interfere with the judicial process.”
“That does not give me comfort.”
“It’s all you’re going to get. Otherwise I start going after every miserable son of a bitch who could have done this.”
Kouros swallowed. “An arms dealer out of Kalamata called Niko set up the whole thing.”
“No,” said Calliope.
“Are you talking about one of the sons of that Pirgos guy my father arranged to take a fall in a drug bust a half-dozen years back?”
“The same. Niko’s father died in prison.”
“What about the other sons?”
Kouros gestured no. “Only Niko and Babis had anything to do with killing your father. No one else.”’
Calliope stood shaking her head, arms wrapped tightly across her chest. “I can’t believe this. It had to involve the Ukrainian. It just had to.”
“The Ukrainian had no reason to want your father dead. He’s a big-time arms, drugs, and human trafficker who wanted the deal to go through so he could build his airstrip. He planned on using charter fli
ghts in and out of the hotel property as cover for his operations in Africa. Niko found out about it and didn’t want the competition.”
“Why didn’t he just take out the Ukrainian?” said Mangas.
“He likely didn’t want to start a war with the Ukrainian mob any more than he wanted one with you. And by using Babis to kill your father before he signed the contract he also killed the deal.”
“I don’t believe this.” Calliope walked out of the room.
“What’s wrong with her?” said Kouros.
Mangas shrugged. “I have no idea what’s going through her head. She’s snapped or something. She knows she can live in this house for the rest of her life but all she keeps telling me is that she doesn’t want to ‘profit’ from Father’s death. I can only guess she somehow blames herself for not convincing Father to stay out of that deal.”
“But it wasn’t the Ukrainian who killed your father,” said Kouros.
“Calliope only sees things in black and white. Somehow Niko found out about the deal and saw it as an opportunity for getting rid of both my father and his competition. No deal, no Niko, no murder of our father.”
I hate somehows, thought Kouros.
“Any leads on where Niko might be?” said Mangas.
“You know better than to expect me to answer that.”
Mangas smiled, “I’m only asking because if you’d like to know I can probably tell you. Unless, of course, you’d like me to find him for you.”
“Where is he?”
“His wife’s family is from Gytheio. In the old days his in-laws were almost as tough a crew as our family. I’m sure if Niko tells them he’s hiding from us they’ll protect him.”
“Why?”
“The wife’s family is related to a family from here. The same family whose son was murdered by our grandfather for getting Calliope’s namesake pregnant.”
“You must be joking.”
“Nope, it’s true. A lot of intermarriage among the Mani clans. And that family link gives those folks in Gytheio another reason for protecting Niko from us. But you’re a cop, and who knows, the Petropoulakis clan just might be civilized enough these days to actually cooperate with the police.”
Mangas walked around the table to Kouros. “Just be careful about using your last name. Even shortened they might guess you’re one of us.”
Kouros shook his head. “All these Byzantine interconnections.”
Mangas put his arm around Kouros’ shoulder. “Cousin, welcome to the real Mani.”
***
Gytheio’s history as a hideaway dated back to the Trojan War, but it had likely been longer since an Athenian cop successfully convinced a Gytheio local to turn in a family member to the police. Andreas hoped it would improve their chances that Niko had only married into the family.
Tassos met Andreas and Kouros just outside the entrance to the Gytheio port. He’d hitched a ride there on the boat of a buddy from Syros rather than accept Andreas’ offer of a lift on the helicopter Andreas had requisitioned to get him there from Athens. The three cops drove north toward Sparta for about two miles before turning right onto a narrow blacktop road at a sign marked HOTEL PETROPOULAKIS.
“The Gytheio police chief said it’s about a mile up, at the top of the hill,” said Andreas. “‘Just follow the olives,’ he said.”
Kouros took his hand from the steering wheel and waved at the gray-green groves running across Tuscan-like hills of red earth. “They’re everywhere.”
Near the top of the hill, Tassos leaned over the front seat and pointed left at the crumbled skeletons of a few fieldstone buildings just beyond the first line of trees. “Looks like they went down in an earthquake.”
Kouros smiled. “Finally, my chance to teach the teacher. Nope, they’re what are left of what the Germans bombed in 1942. This whole area was hard hit. In fact, the first villages in Greece destroyed by the Nazis in reprisal for partisan attacks on German soldiers were here. On the road north to Sparta you’ll see monuments to two villages the bastards wiped out. A lot of family trees lost entire limbs to the Nazis. They did almost as much harm as the Turks, and in a hell of a lot less time.”
Tassos shook his head. “And right smack dab in the middle of the Gytheio port, I saw a huge sign for Chrysi Avgi.”
“They have an office there,” said Kouros. “Amazing how a political party openly praising the architects of Hitler’s methods for inflicting such horrific suffering upon the Greek people has such widespread support among the children and grandchildren of the Nazis’ victims.”
“Go figure,” said Tassos.
“I’d rather not,” said Andreas. “I’d prefer guys like that and Niko simply disappear.”
“Well, you’re about to have your chance at making part of that happen,” said Kouros. Dead ahead about thirty yards off the road sat a cluster of two-, three-, and four-story brown-beige-gray stone buildings.
“I don’t see a sign,” said Andreas.
“This has to be the place.” Kouros pulled up and parked on the dirt under a huge mulberry tree close to the edge of a flagstone patio. Off to the right, an ancient three-story structure looked as if it had caught some of those World War II bombs.
Kouros pointed across the patio at an immaculately restored four-story tower about ten yards away. “That looks like it might have been a war tower for the Petropoulakis family. There’s a sign on that almond tree over by the door. Maybe it’s the office.”
Andreas put his hand on the car door handle. “I think we have about as much a chance of pulling this off as winning the lottery.”
“I prefer betting on a sure thing,” said Tassos. “Like, if we don’t get him, Yianni’s cousin sure as hell will. So, don’t worry, be happy.”
“Yeah. But there could still be other players out there. And until we know how Niko learned about the hotel deal, we won’t know for sure.”
“And then there’s the photograph of my uncle and Stella.”
“The only living soul likely to give us an answer to those questions is Niko,” said Andreas.
A dark-haired man in his mid-forties, approximately Kouros’ size, and wearing a blue shirt and dark pants stepped through the doorway of the tower and headed toward them.
“That looks like the guy the police chief told you to see. You’d better move,” said Kouros.
Andreas and Tassos jumped out the passenger side of the car and the man veered toward them, extending his right hand as he did. “Hello, I’m Mihalis Petropoulakis. I understand you want to speak to me.”
Andreas shook Mihalis’ hand. “How did you know that?”
Mihalis shrugged as he shook Tassos’ hand. “Come let’s sit and talk.” He turned and led them past the tower to a flagstone pool area lined with oleander, mulberry, and pines overlooking more Tuscan-like hills covered in olives.
“You have a spectacular place here,” said Andreas.
“Thank you. The tower was built in 1750. It’s been my dream and joy to restore it.” He pointed at a taverna table and three chairs in the shade of a mulberry tree at the far end of the pool. “There’s no one else here.” He smiled. “And I don’t expect any more surprise visitors this late in the season. Why don’t we sit over there?”
They did, and a young girl brought them a bottle of water and three glasses. Mihalis put his arm around her. “This is my daughter.” She smiled, he patted her on the back and she left. He leaned back in his chair. “So, what can I do for you?”
“I assume you know who we are.”
Mihalis nodded. “Yes, and I assume I should be honored to be visited by two such distinguished members of the police.”
Andreas smiled. “As are we that you agreed to see us.”
“Always happy to help out the police.”
Tassos waved his hand. “I don’t have as big a sweet tooth as you t
wo guys. How about we get through this huggy-kissy time and to the point.”
Mihalis smiled. “I see your reputation is well-deserved, Chief Inspector Stamatos.”
“As is yours, Mihalis. All I want to know is how long after we spoke to the local cops did it take for them to tell you we were down here looking to talk to the ‘appropriate’ member of the Petropoulakis family about a ‘confidential matter’?”
Mihalis raised and dropped his shoulders. “Is it my fault you spoke to my second cousin?”
Andreas grinned. “No problem, Mihalis. Family is family. We understand.”
He nodded.
“In fact, that’s why we’re here. To talk to you about a member of your family.”
Mihalis pointed a finger at his chest. “My family? One of my children?”
“No, not your children. But a member of your family. Or rather someone who married into your family.”
“Who’s that?”
Andreas said Niko’s name.
Mihalis nodded. “I see. Yes, he married a second cousin.”
“You have a lot of second cousins,” said Tassos.
“Even more third and fourth, as I find out every time someone gets married in this town.”
“We need to speak with him,” said Andreas.
“I don’t know where he is. Why don’t I give you his wife’s telephone number and you can call her?”
“I doubt she’ll know where he is.”
“Then how should I?”
Andreas leaned across the table toward Mihalis. “This is not good for your family.”
Mihalis’ eyes flared for an instant. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Your second cousin’s husband is a dirtbag,” said Tassos.
“That’s between him and his wife.”
Andreas shook his head. “I don’t think so. Not when he tried to rekindle your family’s famous vendetta with another well-known Mani clan.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Do you know Mangas?”
“Yes, his father just died.”
“Well, this is about your second cousin’s husband setting up your family to look responsible for the murder of Mangas’ father.”
Sons of Sparta: A Chief Inspector Andreas Kaldis Mystery Page 21
