Kouros pulled up a metal folding chair. “Sit.”
Niko did. Andreas and Kouros did not.
“We’re here to arrest you in connection with the murder of two men and the attempted murder of two others.”
“Including me,” said Kouros.
“I assumed that’s why you were looking for me. But for the life of me I can’t figure out why. So, I asked one of my cousins to allow me to take his place here as a volunteer this morning. I wanted the chance for us to talk. To show you that everything I’ve done was an attempt at preventing harm from coming to anyone. ”
“You have a strange way of doing that,” said Kouros.
“Not sure what you mean.”
“You and your buddies talked your family’s old friend Babis into killing himself,” said Kouros.
“Oh yes, poor, Babis. I tried my best to convince him not to take his own life, but he was so wracked with guilt at what he’d done to your poor uncle that I just couldn’t talk him out of it. And, yes, perhaps the fact that he’d also betrayed my father made him feel doubly guilty. But I was there simply to end any further bloodshed in the Mani.”
“Yeah, right. Too bad your buddy we arrested tells a different story. He has you pissed at Babis for screwing up my uncle’s murder and leaving you exposed as his accomplice.”
“I don’t know what he told you, but his Greek isn’t very good and he must have misheard. I went there to tell Babis he was crazy to have killed your uncle. That it would never get him back in the good graces of my family. Yes, I did for a moment lose my temper with him, but that was when he said he’d tried to make it look like part of an old family vendetta. I called him a ‘fuck-up’ because the idiot was threatening to get my wife’s family involved in his crazy twisted thinking. And, yes, I might have said I’d see that he died far more painfully than he could ever imagine if he got my wife’s family involved in his craziness. But I certainly wasn’t suggesting he take his own life.”
“Nice try,” said Kouros, “but how would you know Babis murdered my uncle if you weren’t involved? Only the chief and I had any evidence of that.”
“I’m afraid I do have the advantage on you, Detective. You see, I knew long before it happened that someone wanted Babis to kill your uncle. So when he turned up dead I knew who must have done it.”
For a second time in minutes Niko had Andreas struggling not to seem startled. He could see that Kouros felt the same. “And you did nothing to stop it?”
Niko shrugged. “What could I do? Someone came to me and asked if I thought I could get Babis to do a job. When I asked what kind of ‘job’ and was told it was to kill your uncle, I passed. The plan was well thought-out but required Babis to think all would be forgiven by my family if he took revenge on the man who’d set my father up to die in prison. I tried discouraging the idea by saying I doubted that would get Babis to turn on your uncle. After all, your uncle had been protecting him for all these years, so what reason would Babis possibly have for betraying him now? Besides, Babis didn’t need my family’s forgiveness as long as he had your uncle’s protection.”
Niko ran his fingers through his hair and stretched. “That’s when I was shown a photograph of your uncle and Babis’ girlfriend coming out of a hotel room together. Whoever planned this knew how to push Babis’ buttons. But I certainly wasn’t going to be the one to do the pushing.”
“An even better story than before,” said Kouros. “But why did they come to you and not go to Babis directly?”
“At first I thought because Babis would insist on direct assurances from my family that we wouldn’t come after him once his protector was dead. But then I realized my family’s guarantee didn’t really matter, because if the kill went off as planned, he’d still not lose the protection of your uncle’s family. What really mattered was that Babis never learn who was behind the hit. I thought that if I refused to act as middleman the plan could not possibly go forward. Obviously, I was wrong.”
“Okay, I’ll bite,” said Andreas. “Who was your mysterious visitor with the plan and photograph?”
Niko stared into Andreas’ eyes. “His cousin.” He switched his stare to Kouros. “Your uncle’s daughter, Calliope.”
“You lying shit,” said Kouros moving toward Niko.
Andreas raised his hand. “Easy, Yianni.”
Niko raised both hands in a gesture of innocence. “I understand how you feel, Detective. But please, answer this question for me. How would I possibly know about that photograph if someone hadn’t given it to me? And if you want to know who that someone was, ask the photographer.”
“Do you have a name for this photographer?” said Andreas.
“No.”
“I didn’t think you would,” said Kouros.
“But I have a description. Your cousin told me it was a legitimate photo taken by an old friend of hers. A priest. And if you can’t trust a priest, who can you trust?” Niko crossed himself.
“Do you have anything else to say?” said Andreas.
“I’ve told you all that I know, freely and with a clear conscience. And I wanted you here,” he said to Kouros, “so that you could share with your family all that I’ve told you. After all, I don’t want there to be any misunderstandings on the part of your family that could have them thinking I had anything to do with their terrible tragedy. We all know how violent your family can be if they feel dishonored.”
Andreas looked at Kouros. “Did you get the message?”
“Yes.”
“Fine. Now cuff the bastard and let’s get him out of here.”
***
After briefing Tassos on their conversation with Niko, Andreas and Kouros hauled Niko up to Sparta and deposited him with the local police. They agreed to meet back in Gytheio in about four hours. Tassos said not to worry. He’d hang out with his friend who’d brought him there from Syros.
Niko didn’t say much on the ride up. Nor did Andreas and Kouros. And at his booking Niko said little more than, “I want to see my lawyer.” Everyone knew that as soon as he went before a judge he’d be released from jail while awaiting trial. Still, Andreas and Kouros stayed around to make sure all legal formalities were followed. No way they’d let a convenient official screw-up destroy this prosecution, no matter how weak it might now seem.
Andreas drove Kouros back to Gytheio. “He sure as hell gave us a lot to think about.”
“Sociopaths can be very creative,” said Kouros.
“Yes, but even a sociopath would have a hard time coming up with a story like that and expect it to fly. I thought the way to make him talk when we found him was to play up to his ego. Hardly needed to do that.”
“He obviously knew everything the bear told us, and worked the details into his alibi story.”
“Yeah, I’m sure he got the details from the bear’s lawyer. No doubt Niko’s paying him. But there is that other point…”
“I know. Calliope.”
“Quite a story.”
“I can’t believe she had anything to do with her father’s murder. No, not ‘can’t.’ I will never believe that she did.”
“Okay, I understand your reaction. But there is that part about the priest and the photograph. Hard to imagine he’d make that up since it’s so easy to verify.”
“Not so easy. The priest won’t talk about anything having to do with my cousin. He even denied telling her about seeing her father and Stella together at that hotel.”
“I know, but maybe this time things will be different.”
“What do you mean, ‘this time’?”
“While you were busy helping out with the paperwork on Niko, Tassos called me. His buddy who brought him to Gytheio is from one of those old Syros families that once did a lot of business with folks in Gerolimenas. Tassos wanted to know if I thought it okay to ask him if he knew the priest. I said, ‘yes,
’ and it turns out he knows the mother even better. So, Tassos and his friend are on their way down to see the mother and the son.”
“Why did you wait until now to tell me?”
“Because I’d rather you threw a fit alone with me in the car than in front of our suspect.”
“Fuck you.”
“Finished?”
“For now.”
Chapter Twenty-two
The mother’s apartment sat directly above the taverna, reached by a set of stairs inside a nondescript painted wooden door on the side of the building. At the top of the stairs stood a finely finished oak door with two hand-etched glass panes backed by a lace curtain on the inside.
Tassos and his friend Stavros showed up at the mother’s door with a large box of sweets, flowers, and a bottle of seven-star Metaxa brandy. Her surprise at two unexpected visitors lasted only until she recognized Stavros. She insisted on cooking while they sat at her kitchen table, reminiscing about the old days and common friends. Tassos knew all her friends from Syros, and added some details about a few that surprised even Stavros.
Two hours into the visit, and a third of the way into the Metaxa, Tassos nodded at Stavros.
“Keria, I keep forgetting to ask. How is your son?”
“Ah, my joy. He is a man of the cloth. His prayers will surely send my soul straight to heaven.”
Tassos leaned across the table and patted her arm. “I’m sure, keria, that no prayers will be needed to assure your place in heaven. Not after contributing your only son to the Lord’s work.”
She smiled and raised her glass. “But it doesn’t hurt to have a friend on the inside. To my son, Father Carlos.”
“To Father Carlos,” the two men said raising their glasses.
“So sorry I won’t have the chance to meet him,” said Tassos.
“Why, of course you will.” She picked up a mobile phone from the table, pressed a speed dial button, and waited. “No answer.” She dialed a second number. “I’ll try the taverna downstairs.” She waited for an answer. “Costas. Have you seen my son?”
Pause.
“Then find him.”
Pause.
“I don’t care if you’re busy, I want to see him now. Find him and tell him to come home immediately.” She hung up without saying good-bye.
She smiled at the two men staring at her. “It pays be the taverna’s landlord.”
Five minutes later the front door swung opened and in hurried Carlos, scruffier than Kouros had described but just as bleary-eyed. On seeing the two men he turned quickly and headed back toward the door.
“Where are you going?” his mother said, and without waiting for an answer added, “come here, I want you to meet some old friends.”
Carlos stopped, walked to the kitchen doorway, and stood acknowledging the men with a nod.
She pointed with a smile in her son’s direction. “This is my boy, Father Carlos. Spiritual leader of Gerolimenas.”
Carlos looked down at his dust-covered cowboy boots.
Tassos stood up, walked over to him, and extended his hand. “Hello, Father. My name is Tassos and my friend over there is Stavros. It is an honor to meet you.”
Carlos hurriedly shook Tassos’ hand. “Sorry, gentlemen, but I must run.”
Tassos wrapped his arm around Carlos’ shoulders. “I won’t hear of it. Not after all the wonderful things your mother’s been saying about you. I insist you sit with us for at least a few moments.” He steered him over to a place at the table between his chair and Stavros.
Carlos’ mother leaned across Stavros and patted her son’s arm. “Why, of course my boy can spare some time for friends of his mother.”
Had he been a deer he’d have bolted for the door. Tassos handed him a glass of brandy, and raising his own, “To your mother. A great lady.”
Carlos mumbled some words and downed his drink without attempting to touch the others’ glasses.
Tassos waited until he’d finished the drink. “I’ve always admired those who follow your calling, Father. So many souls lying bare to you the deepest of their despair. It takes a special sort of person to comfort their pain.”
Carlos nodded, looking at the Metaxa bottle as he did.
“You must meet a lot of people here in the summers.” Tassos picked up the brandy bottle. He waved it in the direction of the wall of photographs behind his mother. “And famous people, too. I recognize some from the pictures. Did you take them?”
“Yes, he takes a lot of photographs,” said his mother. “It’s his hobby.”
“Is that so?” said Tassos moving to pour brandy into Carlos’ glass. When Carlos didn’t answer, Tassos held off on pouring.
“Yes,” said Carlos, “ever since I was a boy, I’ve loved taking photographs. It captures a moment that may or may not reflect a glimpse of the subject’s soul, but it’s as close as we can get to such revelations here on Earth.”
Tassos filled Carlos’ glass. “Very well said, Father.”
“The camera makes life so much simpler, focused, understandable. At least for that instant it captures.”
Tassos nodded. “I understand your thinking. I assume you capture candid moments.”
“I try.”
Tassos waved at the wall. “From what I see, I’d say you’ve been very successful. You must use a telephoto lens.”
He nodded, and drank a bit of the brandy. “You capture reality best when the subject doesn’t realize there’s a camera watching.”
Tassos stood up and walked over to the wall of photos. “I’m really impressed. You have a unique style in the way you place the subjects within the frame. Slightly slanted off the horizon.”
“It’s my trademark.”
Tassos pointed at one photo. “This one reminds me of a photo I saw just the other day. In fact, I was told it was taken in this very port a few weeks ago. Perhaps you took it?”
“I doubt it. I don’t sell my photographs.”
Tassos nodded. “Well, it sure looks like one of yours. Maybe you gave it away?”
Carlos gestured no. “I don’t do that either. I take them only for myself.” He held the glass to his lips.
“And for your mother,” she added with a smile.
Carlos forced a smile and began to drink.
“It was a photo of a young woman and an older man coming out of a room in that hotel across the harbor.”
Carlos choked on the brandy.
“Are you all right?” said Tassos.
“Yes, yes.” He put down the glass. “I really must run.”
“I think the name of the woman in the photo was Stella.”
Carlos stood up.
“The woman who gave me the photo,” continued Tassos, “said the man in the picture was her father and that a friend of hers had taken it.”
Carlos stared at Tassos.
“Please, Father, sit. I really need your help with this.”
Carlos hesitated but sat.
“I can’t remember the man’s name, but I think his surname started with a K.”
Tassos looked at Carlos’ mother. “You know how hard it sometimes is at our age to remember names.”
She nodded.
“It’s going to drive me absolutely crazy if I can’t remember the name of the man and his daughter. This getting old can be really discouraging at times.” He smacked his right hand on his thigh. “I think the photo might be in my car. With your permission, keria, I’ll run down to check, and if it is, perhaps you or your son will recognize the man in the photo.”
“Of course. Go. Carlos and I will do whatever we can to help you.”
Tassos thanked her and left. He waited downstairs outside the door and counted. At fifteen he heard footsteps racing down the stairs, at eighteen he caught Carlos coming out the front door on the
fly.
“Whoa there, Father. What’s the hurry?”
“I’ve got to be somewhere.”
“I’m sure, but first we have to clear up that little matter of the photo we both know you took.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Why does everybody always say that when they know precisely what I’m talking about?” Tassos shook his head. “I know you want to protect your friend, Calliope, but if I have to go upstairs and get your mother all worked up over this, a certain mutual acquaintance has assured me it will turn your idyllic home life into hell.”
Carlos looked up at the sky.
“If you’re looking up there for an answer, that’s fine with me. But, please, understand I’m really trying to help you out from down here, Father. I don’t want to create more grief for you with your mother over Calliope and her father. All I want to know is why you took the photograph.”
Carlos looked down at the ground. “I told Calliope I’d seen her father with the woman from the taverna going into the hotel, and she asked me to take a photo of them if I ever saw them together again.”
“And did you?”
“Yes.”
“And what did you do with the photograph?”
“I gave it to her.”
“When?”
“A week and a half or so before her father died.”
“To anyone else?”
“No.”
“Are you certain?”
“Positive.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because I emailed the photo to Calliope and deleted it from my camera and computer.”
“Why did you do that?”
“My mother’s always snooping around my things. If you haven’t noticed, she lives her life through me. I didn’t want her finding a photo of Calliope’s father. As our ‘mutual acquaintance’ no doubt told you, Mother doesn’t approve of my having anything to do with Calliope or her family.”
“How old are you?”
Sons of Sparta: A Chief Inspector Andreas Kaldis Mystery Page 23
