An Aegean Prophecy: A Chief Inspector Andreas Kaldis Mystery: Book 3

by Jeffrey Siger

  There was a subtle change to the Protos’ voice; he was sounding more and more like a teacher. ‘Perhaps it would be helpful, my son, to give you what many call “the bottom line.” Without the additional chairs, there are three rows of seven men in seven chairs. There are a lot of sevens in Revelation. Indeed, the very Book of Revelation is written as a message to seven churches. My guess is that Vassilis added three abbot-style chairs to a picture of twenty one to take attention off the distracting number seven, and put it on the number twenty four which, to someone familiar with Revelation,’ he smiled at Andreas, ‘could only mean the twenty-four elders.’

  ‘Okay, but—’

  The Protos held up his hand. ‘I know, I’m still going too fast. For some, the twenty-four represent the leadership of the church that will emerge after the coming of our Lord.’

  After all hell’s broken loose as I recall, thought Andreas.

  ‘That was not his thinking, but I’m sure Vassilis replaced the faces and added the chairs to make clear to me when I read “the time is in their hands” that the men in the photo are seeking to change the church.’

  Andreas let out a breath. ‘Okay, let’s assume you’re right about what Vassilis was trying to tell you, and that he’s right about the monks in the photo wanting to be the new leaders of the church, I still don’t see how any of that makes any of them “evil.” At most it sounds like they may be out of step with prevailing church politics.’

  The Protos shook his head. ‘This is not a question of politics. And I’m not saying the men in that photograph are “evil,” nor did Vassilis. What I said is, “He sees them in the presence of great evil.”’

  ‘I’m sorry, Your Holiness, I need another “bottom line” moment here.’

  The Protos pointed to the carpet in front of the image that replaced his own. ‘If you look closely at the carpet you can make out a pattern. It took me a moment to recognize it, but once I did I immediately realized that the face replacing mine wasn’t from a photograph, it’s from a famous painting.’ He let out a breath and put down the glass. ‘The carpet pattern is of a dragon, and both the dragon and the blurred image represent the same thing.’ He crossed himself. ‘Satan.’ He crossed himself again.

  Andreas just stared at the photograph. This was turning into one of those days he wished he’d become anything but a cop. How do you tell this man, respectfully, to come back to the real world so we can solve a real world crime?

  ‘Okay, I hear you, Your Holiness, but what flesh and blood proof is there for any of this?’

  The Protos looked up and stared into Andreas’ eyes. ‘My son, Vassilis is dead.’

  ‘I haven’t felt that stupid in a long time.’ And on that note, Andreas finished describing his meeting to Kouros.

  ‘Yeah, I guess, “Vassilis is dead,” was sort of the obvious answer to your question.’

  ‘Sort of? I felt as if I were back in elementary school getting taken apart by a teacher.’

  Kouros kept his eyes on the road. ‘Just trying to make you feel better.’

  Andreas smiled. ‘Thanks, but it’s not working.’

  ‘So, where do we go from here?’

  ‘The Protos has gone back to Mount Athos, promising if anything else comes to mind he’ll let me know. As for where we go, it’s back to the office and the sexy side of police work.’

  ‘Sitting in a car for hours eating spanikopita?’

  ‘Better. Reading everything we can find on every monastery and every monk in Mount Athos. Which reminds me, what did you dig up on the Protos’ buddy, Sergey?’

  ‘Nothing bad. Yeah, he was one mean motherfucker in his army years, but no war crimes stuff. Seems to fit the profile for many who lose themselves in monasteries. They’ve seen it all, done it all, and now want to forget it all.’

  Andreas nodded. ‘And what about that computer backup the abbot promised to send us?’

  ‘Maggie said it arrived this morning, but nothing on it as far as she can tell except for esoteric comments by Vassilis on church doctrine and liturgy. She actually likes that stuff.’

  ‘Well, I’m about to make her even happier by getting her started on pulling things off the Internet.’ He picked up his phone and dialed Maggie’s number.

  ‘Should I get them here or wait until after the helicopter lands in Athens?’ asked Kouros.

  Andreas was holding the phone to his ear, waiting for Maggie to pick up. ‘Get what?’

  ‘The spinach pies. I think five dozen should be enough. After all, twenty major monasteries, no telling how many related places, and a couple of thousands monks. How long can that possibly take?’

  ‘Like I said, thanks for trying to make me feel better, and the next time you – Hello, Maggie …’

  They’d gone through almost two dozen spanikopita and three pots of coffee. Andreas was glassy-eyed and Kouros claimed to be numb ‘for a lifetime’ to anything clerical. Maggie, on the other hand, seemed in virtual heaven. She said she couldn’t believe she’d been asked to immerse herself in the study of her church as part of her job, and get paid overtime for doing it. A lot of overtime.

  ‘I can’t read another word. I just can’t.’ Kouros pushed himself up from Andreas’ couch, stretched, and jumped up and down.

  Andreas lifted his eyes from the pile of documents on his desk. ‘Stop that, you’re wrecking my concentration. I’ll forget where I am.’

  ‘That’s what I want to do,’ said Kouros, jumping three more times before stopping. ‘So much of this is all the same sh –’ he glanced at Maggie, ‘stuff, just written differently enough that I have to read it again and again and again. I see nothing.’

  Andreas stretched. ‘I thought the first thousand or so articles were pretty interesting, myself.’

  Maggie looked up from the chair she’d been glued to for hours. ‘Stop that, you two. This is very interesting. It’s the history of our church and of those special souls who dedicate their lives to honoring our past and our traditions in order to keep our church alive in the present.’

  Andreas looked at Kouros, then at Maggie. ‘Cut us some slack, will you? We’re trying to find a clue to a murder, not impugn the church, and it’s …’ he looked at his watch, ‘… four o’clock in the morning.’

  ‘Like I said, Chief, I’ve had it,’ yawned Kouros.

  Andreas threw his pencil on his desk. ‘Okay.’ He ran his hands through his hair. ‘Before we call it a night, do either of you have anything to tell me that might be helpful? Anything?’

  Kouros shrugged.

  Maggie scowled. ‘Okay, wiseasses.’

  Andreas smiled. At four in the morning Maggie finally was letting them know who really ran their office.

  She handed Andreas a single sheet of paper. ‘Read this.’

  He looked at it. ‘I’ve read this or something like it a hundred times already. It goes monastery by monastery according to hierarchical rank, describing each one’s history, location, size—’

  ‘Well, read it again, and this time more carefully.’

  Just what he needed, another teaching moment; but he did as she told him. It described a monastery ranking near the bottom of the twenty, but it had more monks than virtually any of the others. It also was one of the strictest and most severe. He read it twice, then looked up. ‘Okay, what am I missing?’

  Maggie took the paper from his hand and began reading out loud. ‘“The monastery withdrew its representative from the Holy Community decades ago and does not take part in its assemblies.”’

  Andreas gave her a blank stare. She turned to Kouros. He shrugged and then yawned.

  ‘If one of the twenty monasteries refuses to participate in assemblies of the Holy Community of Mount Athos, why then are there twenty abbots in the photograph with the Protos at his installation – instead of nineteen?’ She said the last three words very slowly.

  Kouros shrugged. ‘No idea. And I’m too tired to make a joke.’

  Andreas stared at Maggie. ‘Twice in one day.
’

  ‘What “twice in one day”?’ said Maggie.

  ‘That I’ve missed the obvious.’

  Kouros reached for another spanikopita. ‘Don’t forget about the cross.’

  Andreas nodded. ‘Fine, okay, three times.’ He looked at his watch. ‘Too late or early to call the Protos?’

  ‘Both,’ said Maggie. ‘He’s probably in the middle of morning prayers.’

  ‘I’ll take that as a sign to get some sleep.’ Andreas stood up. ‘At least now we have a question to ask.’

  ‘Do you think he’ll talk to you over the phone?’ asked Kouros.

  Andreas shrugged. ‘Won’t know until I try. He gave me his landline numbers when we were in Ouranoupolis. They’re probably more secure than the prime minister’s, but if it’s something he doesn’t want to talk about I’m sure he’ll let me know.’

  Andreas looked at Maggie. ‘Any idea of what his potential answer might be?’

  ‘Probably something obvious, like everyone came out of respect for the office of protos.’

  ‘Sort of like warring families getting together at a church social?’ Kouros was smiling.

  Maggie shook her head. ‘You can’t help yourself.’

  ‘Would you prefer something more earthshaking? How about, “The devil made me do it”?’

  Guessing at answers was a big part of every cop’s life. In Andreas’ experience some were better guessers than others, but even the best of them rarely were right on the mark, just close enough to point the way. Great, he thought, the devil made somebody show respect for the Protos.

  Ever so quietly he crept into the room. Like a thief in the night. But a naked one, on tip-toe. Andreas had dropped his clothes on the floor outside the bedroom. Muscle memory brought him around the bed, extreme care lightly onto it. No covers tonight, he thought, the movement might wake her. Ahh, made it.

  PLOP. An arm dropped across his bare chest. ‘Anything interesting happen today, my love?’

  ‘I can never sneak in on you, can I?’

  ‘Nope, and don’t you ever forget it.’ She patted his chest.

  He rolled over and kissed her. ‘Missed you.’

  ‘I bet. After all that time alone with monks even Mother Theresa would look good.’

  He laughed and touched her belly. ‘How are you guys doing?’

  ‘Great.’ She snuggled up to him. ‘Now that daddy’s home.’

  He kissed her forehead. ‘Me, too.’

  ‘Tassos sent us the strangest gift today.’

  ‘What was it?’

  ‘It came from a florist, but I guess he was trying to tell me to learn to cook.’

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘It was wrapped with pink and blue ribbon – to cover all possibilities I assume – with a lovely note, but I can’t figure out why he sent what he did.’

  ‘What did the note say? I might have a better fix on his sense of humor.’

  ‘Something like, “May your home always be filled with joy and love, and may this protect your family from all that is not.”’

  ‘What did he send, a gun?’

  ‘No, wise guy,’ and she gently squeezed his nuts.

  ‘Careful, they’re not used to much action these days.’

  Lila didn’t listen; instead held them in her right hand, lightly squeezing and gently rubbing. Andreas adjusted his position on the bed. She started feathering him with the tips of her fingers and, after a while, strayed on to something much firmer and erect to the touch. Back and forth she ran her fingers, from top to bottom and back again. She stopped when she felt him start to pulsate, then gripped him tightly, and slowly and deliberately began pulling up and down.

  ‘I’d love to take you in my mouth, but I just—’

  ‘Don’t worry, this is just fine. Oh, yes, just fine.’ Andreas put his arm under her body and pulled her against him. He was flat on his back and thrusting in synch with her hand.

  She squeezed extra hard and pulled twice, very slowly.

  Andreas moved his hand to where he could touch Lila’s bare ass and squeeze it in rhythm with her stroke. He began to moan, she kissed him and stroked faster. He moaned more, twisting beneath her hand, then paused for an instant before thrusting his hips forward and holding them there. ‘Don’t stop, please don’t stop.’

  She didn’t.

  ‘Ohhhh, ohhhhh …’

  Lila kept pulling, even after he’d finished. Andreas had to hold her hand to get her to stop. ‘Easy there, my love, we’ll need to use it again some day.’

  She kissed his cheek. ‘You like?’

  ‘Yes … I like.’ He kissed her neck. They lay silently holding each other for a few moments, then Andreas left for the bathroom.

  ‘So don’t you want to know what he sent us?’

  ‘Who, my mind is completely blank at the moment. Just the way I like it.’

  ‘Glad I could clear your head.’

  Andreas was laughing as he walked back into the bedroom. ‘Okay, what was it?’

  ‘The strangest thing. Garlic. A dozen heads, wrapped tightly together in a line, and in a gold mesh bag no less. Such a silly thing. But a lovely thought.’

  His first thought was thank God the room was pitch black, so Lila couldn’t see his face.

  Andreas swallowed. ‘Yes, a lovely thought.’ His mother used to do the same thing, hang garlic in their house. But it wasn’t for cooking: it was to keep the devil away.

  Andreas remembered the day she gave up that superstition. They’d just returned from his father’s funeral. She was a young mother of two children whose husband had chosen to commit suicide rather than subject his family to any more of the shame brought on by the bastard minister who’d set him up to look corrupt.

  It was a moment burned into his memory. His mother was tearing down the garlic and ripping it to shreds. ‘It doesn’t work. Nothing works if the devil wants to take you. Nothing.’

  Andreas crossed himself in the dark and prayed his mother was wrong.

  11

  ‘Hello, Your Holiness, it’s Andreas Kaldis. Sorry to bother you again.’

  ‘No need to keep apologizing, my son. We’re way past that. So, what fresh hell have you brought me today?’ There was a lightness to the Protos’ voice. It wasn’t what Andreas expected.

  ‘I’m glad to hear you’re sounding better.’

  ‘It is Easter Week, our holiest time, and all our trials must be measured against the ultimate sacrifice. Besides, I may never have the chance to use that Dorothy Parker “fresh hell” line again.’

  ‘I hope you’re not right about the “hell” part,’ whoever Dorothy Parker was. ‘I understand one of the monasteries is not part of the Holy Community.’

  ‘Yes, sadly that is true. Although we are hopeful they will return.’

  ‘But there are twenty abbots in the photograph taken at your ceremony. Did its abbot attend?’

  ‘Yes. In fact, that day was the first step toward a hoped-for reconciliation.’

  ‘What made your rogue monastery suddenly see the light?’

  The Protos cleared his throat. ‘I would not call it a rogue monastery, just slightly overzealous in pursuing its alternative beliefs on church policy.’

  Spoken like a true politician. Andreas waited, there had to be more coming. Teachers were like that.

  ‘We owe it all to Kalogeros Zacharias.’

  ‘Who’s he?’

  ‘A monk in that monastery, but a very special man. Although relatively young, he has great patience, humility, and skills. He gained the trust of his abbot and ultimately convinced him to attend the ceremony out of respect to the 1,100-year-old office of protos.’

  Guess Maggie was right.

  ‘That was not an easy feat to achieve. That abbot was the reason his monastery withdrew in the first place, and he is a man of, shall we say, strong opinions. He never got along with any protos before me. Some say our few steps forward are my doing, but they are all thanks to Zacharias.’

  ‘What do
you know about Zacharias?’

  ‘He’s very well educated, speaks a half-dozen languages, and came to Mount Athos in the mid-nineties.’

  ‘From where?’

  ‘I don’t know his origins, but his passport is Swiss. I know because he once asked me if he should obtain a Greek passport now that he was a Greek citizen.’

  ‘What rank does he hold in his monastery?’

  ‘None, he does not want rank. Which perhaps is why he’s so well thought of by so many. He presents no threat.’

  Andreas thought, this guy Zacharias seems too good to be true. What’s he doing in the outcast monastery if he’s so talented? ‘Do you happen to have a file on him?’

  The Protos paused. ‘What you’re asking is highly irregular.’

  ‘So is the murder of a monk. And I’m trying to keep it that way.’

  The Protos let out a breath. ‘You have your own special way with words.’

  ‘Can you arrange for me to come up and meet with Zacharias?’

  ‘When?’

  ‘Today.’

  ‘Impossible, this is Holy Week.’

  ‘Your Holiness, I appreciate all that but like I said—’

  ‘My son, I understand what you’re about to say, but you don’t understand. That monastery has the strictest rules of any on our Holy Mountain. No one, and I mean no one, is allowed access during Easter Week. From Sunday to the following Sunday at noon it has no contact with the outside world. There is no telephone and even electricity is forbidden during that holy period. There is no way you can visit or communicate with Zacharias until Sunday afternoon.’

  Andreas let out a deep breath. ‘When can you get me his file?’

  ‘The one I have, right away, but it contains little more than what I’ve said. Any additional information would be in his monastery’s file.’

  ‘And not available until Sunday.’

  ‘Assuming the abbot cooperates. Sorry.’

  Andreas thought damn, but said, ‘Thank you, Your Holiness.’