Whatever you wanted or needed to hear Demon told you. He had a knack for that and never worried about the truth. It was far too cumbersome a convention for his goals. Whether or not that made him a clinical sociopath was of no concern to Demon. He did what had to be done.
7
'So, Maggie, what's so important for you to call me four times in the last forty-five minutes?' He sounded nonchalant but, knowing Maggie was not an alarmist, expected hearing that life on earth as he knew it was over.
'You're pretty popular, Chief. Everyone's calling for you, from the prime minister on down.'
Maybe it really was over. 'We're heading back to the office. Be there in fifteen minutes.'
'Better turn around and head the other way. You have an appointment in-' she paused, Andreas assumed to look at her watch, 'ten minutes at the Tholos.'
'At the what? And why did you schedule an appointment without clearing it with me?' His voice was sharper than he intended.
She didn't seem bothered. 'I didn't schedule it for you. The prime minister's office did. Tholos is a virtual reality theater inside a big dome, looks like a planetarium. The show starts with the burning of Athens by the Persians and focuses on life in the Agora during Athens' classical period. Makes you feel like you're living back in the fifth century BC. It's on Pireos Street.'
'What the fuck's going on — sorry, Maggie, I didn't mean that for you.'
She laughed. 'Don't worry. I was wondering the same thing.'
'Can't seem to get out of that neighborhood.' Andreas gestured for Kouros to turn the car around and head in the opposite direction.
'No, Chief, it's in the Tavros section, on the other side of town from Omonia, at 254 Pireos.'
'Who am I meeting?'
'That superbitch from the prime minister's office wouldn't tell me, just said to tell you to "be there," but if I had to guess, I think I know who it is.'
He'd learned to trust her instincts. 'So, tell me already.'
'Marios Tzoli.'
'Shit.'
'Thought you'd like that. He called me twice, insisting he must speak to you-'
'Personally called?'
'Yes, and I told him I couldn't reach you. Then I got a call from the office of the minister of public order telling me you must call Marios immediately. I told them the same thing, I couldn't reach you.'
That minister was his boss. 'Let me guess. Then came the call from the prime minister?'
'Five minutes later.'
'Boy, he really must be owed some favors.'
'Shall I tell you some of them?' said Maggie giggling.
'Not on the telephone, my love.' Andreas smiled.
'Let me know what happens.'
'Will do. And Maggie, have a blue-and-white meet me at that dome-thing. I have fingerprints I want the lab to run STAT.' He hung up. 'Yianni, who do you think actually runs my office?'
'I'd need permission from Maggie to answer that.'
Andreas smiled again, and shook his head. 'Well, what do you think has Greece's number-one scandal-chasing TV personality all hot and bothered?'
Kouros' look turned serious. 'You don't think he somehow found out about, uh-'
'Last night?' Andreas shook his head no. 'Don't think so. Only if it were a set-up from the start would he be so pumped up so quickly. Besides, as important as I seem to you,' he smacked Kouros' shoulder, 'I'm not close to the sort of person his viewers are interested in watching screw up their lives. Certainly not enough to get this kind of personal attention from the Man himself.'
'So, what do you think it is?'
Andreas shrugged. 'Whatever it is, he's sure anxious to tell us. Maybe it has to do with where he's picked to meet?'
'Yeah, it seems a bit dramatic, even for him.'
'I think when referring to Marios he prefers that you spell "him" with a capital H.'
Kouros grinned. 'Oh, yes, I forgot he's one of our modern gods.'
'All-knowing, all-powerful, gazing down upon us mere mortals from Mount TV, deciding who shall live, who shall die, and what bullshit gets the best ratings.'
'Wonder who he's after?'
'Well, if it isn't us, let's not give him a reason to change his mind, like by keeping him waiting. Step on it, we're already late.'
They parked where parking was 'strictly forbidden.' Cops always ignored those signs; it made them feel more like civilian Greek drivers in need of a parking space. Though in a hurry, they had to wait for the uniform cop to pick up Demosthenes' fingerprints. They stood by the curb and stared at three connected structures identified by a sign atop the middle one: HELLENIC COSMOS.
The futuristic Tholos, or dome in English, stood to the left and was by far the most dramatic architectural element of the 23,000-square-foot complex. It was a virtual-world sphere, created by civic-minded Athenians in the midst an old neighborhood of gas stations and commercial spaces badly in need of aesthetic attention. Here visitors experienced life amidst the commercial, political, cultural, and religious center of ancient Athens — the Agora — while sitting in a 130-seat theater 'losing all sense of time and space.' At least that's what a sign by the entrance read.
Andreas pointed to the sign as they passed it. 'Let's hope that happened to Marios.' They were twenty minutes late for what he expected to be a pissy, prima donna performance by the self-styled 'Voice of Greece.'
They entered through the front door closest to the theater. He said to meet him there. They didn't have to look for him. He was standing on the other side of the door looking at his watch. Short silver hair, bright blue eyes, a slim five-foot-six-inch frame, and an age falling somewhere between Greece's past and present generation of leaders, Marios seemed tense. Andreas took that to mean he was about to unload on them for keeping him waiting.
'Chief Kaldis?' It was the voice millions knew. 'I could tell it was you from where you parked.' It sounded like sarcasm, but might be a joke.
Andreas treated it as humor. 'You mean I don't look like my photograph?' Andreas smiled and extended his hand.
Marios did not smile but did shake hands. 'Yes, your minister was kind enough to fax me a photograph of you.'
And probably a copy of his official personnel file. This guy had access to practically everyone and everything he wanted. 'Sir, this is officer Kouros.'
They shook hands.
'I would have preferred meeting elsewhere,' he waved his hands, 'somewhere less public but… well… you'll see.' Marios pointed to a broad steel and glass staircase leading to a mezzanine lined with floor-to-ceiling windows. 'Let's go up there.'
The actual steps, thirty-five of them plus a landing halfway, seemed the only wood in the place. No question that steel, glass, and light were the principal design elements here and presented a decidedly modern contrast to what Andreas expected. Then again, Andreas didn't know what to expect.
Marios held Andreas' arm as they walked. He gestured toward Kouros with his head. 'What I have to say is very private and off the record.'
'Officer Kouros and I work together. If it's something involving police work he will know anyway.' He looked Marios straight in the eyes. 'If it involves something else, I'm not the person to talk to at the ministry.' If this was about making Andreas one of Marios' 'unofficial official' sources, they may as well have it out right now. It was guys like this who did in his father.
Marios stared back. 'I heard you're a hard-ass.' He let out a breath. 'Okay, have it your way, but if word about what I'm about to tell you gets out, there will be hell to pay for all of us.'
This guy sure knew how to sell. He's about to pump me for information and makes it sound like it's the other way around. 'I understand, sir, there will be no problem.'
Marios nodded. 'Fine, just so you know it.' He made no effort to make Andreas feel comfortable in 'his' presence, such as by saying, 'just call me Marios.'
At the mezzanine they turned left and entered a dark room lined with television monitors along the tops of the left and right walls. Marios said this was where vis
itors were told what was about to happen inside the dome.
'When do we learn?' asked Andreas.
'Soon.' Again, no smile. Marios led them inside the sphere.
Eight semicircular rows of airplane-style seats descended to the base of the sphere. The screen rose up from the floor in front of the bottom row and seemed to envelope everything but the seats themselves. Marios pointed to two seats, dead center, in the next-to-top row. Each seat arm contained controls allowing the audience to vote during the course of the video on the direction the presentation should take. A bit of democracy in action in the telling of the tale of its birthplace. But the three of them had the theater to themselves and there was no doubt in Andreas' mind that this would be all Marios' show.
Marios sat in a seat two rows below and directly in front of them. He turned sideways to face them. 'I want you to watch something, but before it starts you need some background.' He paused for a moment, as if collecting his thoughts. 'Well, we all know about the terrible tragedy that befell the Kostopoulos family.'
No beating around the bush for this guy, thought Andreas. Better be careful; there might be microphones hidden somewhere.
'And I'm sure you think I brought you here to pump you for information about that.'
Andreas was expressionless. 'Of course you would, but I assure you that's not why I brought you here. I don't want to know your thoughts. I want you to hear mine.'
Andreas knew better than to interrupt a rambler. Sooner or later they said something they shouldn't. But, then again, this guy's too experienced to make that sort of mistake. He's a better interrogator than most cops.
'You know about the siege the boy's father, a truly unlikable man, waged on one of Greece's oldest and most respected families for control of their newspaper?'
Andreas nodded.
'When was the last time you spoke to Zanni or Ginny Kostopoulos?'
'Yesterday, we…' Andreas caught himself. This guy's smooth, he thought. Almost got me into details of our interview with the family.
Marios didn't miss a beat. 'Of course, when you told them of their son's death.' He paused, as if waiting for Andreas to respond.
Andreas decided not to speak unless asked a specific question and, even then, not to volunteer an unnecessary word.
'Do you know what the family is doing today?'
It was a direct question. 'No.'
'No reason why you should. Would you be surprised if I told you they put up for sale all the real property they own in Greece?'
Andreas gave no response.
'Or that an investment banker was engaged to sell all Kostopoulos family business interests in Greece?'
Still no response.
'And that Mrs Kostopoulos and the children left Greece, first thing this morning?'
Silence.
'Under heavily armed guard?'
Andreas started to fidget in his seat.
'And, my guess is, once the boy's body is released, burial will be outside of Greece. So they need never return.'
Andreas couldn't keep quiet any longer. 'I have no idea why you're telling me this, or if any of it is true.'
Marios shrugged. 'Frankly, I don't want to be here telling you any of this. And, on a personal level, I don't give a rat's ass whether you think I'm crazy or not. But when you leave here and check out what I told you,…' he allowed his words to drift off. He turned away from them and pressed a button. The lights faded down and images began filling the dome. The journey to Athens of another time had begun.
It was a fascinating experience, with great special effects, but what held Andreas' interest was one simple question: What the fuck was going on? Kouros kept giving him looks along the same line. They were up to 416 BC, in the time of the Athenian democracy, and thirty-five minutes into the forty-minute presentation.
'This is the part for you to concentrate on.' They were the first words Marios had said since the show began.
The presenter's voice picked up with, 'Ostrakizmos was a procedure conducted by secret ballot for the protection of Athenian democracy. Once a year, citizens of Athens decided whether to hold a vote ostracizing one of their fellow citizens. If a sufficient number of Athenians wanted to conduct an ostracism, the person banished could be anyone the voters agreed was dangerous to Athens and democracy. Reasons for ostracizing were
1. the citizen had conservative views characteristic of dictatorship ideas;
2. the citizen was dishonest in business dealings;
3. the citizen misled people for personal purposes; or
4. the citizen was rich and bragged.
4. the citizen was rich and bragged.
'Anyone determined to be such a danger was banished from Athens for ten years and required to leave the city within ten days.'
Marios pressed a button, the presentation stopped, and the lights went on. 'So, what do you think?'
Lunatic was the first thing that came to mind. 'Interesting,' was the word Andreas uttered.
'I see, you don't agree. But I'm sure you understand the point and, yes, there could be other explanations for why the family left so quickly.'
Like simple, unmitigated grief, thought Andreas.
'Of course, in those times it was only a ten-year banishment of the individual from Athens, not his entire family from Greece for life.' He waved his hand in the air. 'But, times change, procedures evolve, and everything in life can't be a perfect fit.'
Andreas hoped his loss of patience wasn't showing. 'Sir, you're a smart guy; we all know that. You're also damn good at what you do; we all know that, too. What we don't know is, where the hell you're headed with this?'
Marios was unfazed. 'For those who didn't accept the ostracism, the penalty was death.'
Andreas already guessed that. The founders of democracy were notoriously direct in their punishments, even among peers. 'But, with all due respect, sir, it's one hell of a stretch to suggest that this… this "ostracism,"' he pointed at the screen, 'was behind the boy's murder.' He knew his frustration was showing.
'What if there were proof linking what you just saw to the death of the Kostopoulos boy?'
Andreas wondered if his minister had any idea how offthe-wall this guy was. 'I don't know what to say, sir. If you have evidence, of course we'll look into it and-'
Marios put up his hand. 'Stop. No need to placate me. I'm not crazy.' His voice was firmer than before, but not strident or angry. 'This involves far more than just the Kostopoulos boy's death. His is not an isolated event. It is perhaps the most dramatic in recent memory, but it is not something new. This has been going on in our country for years.'
Crazy or not, Andreas had no choice but to hear him out. 'Okay, so tell me what you know. But I want specifics.' He paused as if wondering if he should say more. 'Based on evidence, not some conspiracy theory woven by a TV producer looking for ratings.'
Kouros' face jerked toward Andreas, and both cops braced for an explosion.
Instead, there was a very long, noticeable silence. Marios kept staring into the row between them. 'Our Greece is a land steeped in history, a country that long ago learned how to survive its people. The question is, in these modern times, does our country require some help, or shall we leave it to the fates to decide its future?' He stopped and looked into the eyes of each man. 'Do you really want to hear this? Because once you do and come to see that what I tell you is true, you will face two choices: accept what you cannot change and live within a system antithetical to your core principles, or endure lifelong, merciless frustration battling against choice number one.'
Andreas smiled. 'You sure know how to set the hook.'
'Millions think so.' Marios forced a smile. It was his last of any sort for more than an hour. Marios' reputation for telling terrific stories without allowing anything as pesky as the whole truth to interfere with his tales made Andreas wonder how much of what he was saying was true and how much was his form of 'journalistic interpretation' or, as the less sophisticated would call i
t, bullshit.
Marios believed in a world run by bargains and distractions. Bargains by the all-powerful to stay that way; distractions for the masses to keep them that way. It was not a very optimistic view of man. He believed those hungry for power did whatever necessary to achieve it and expended ruthlessly higher quantum levels of effort to keep it.
All of that required distracting the masses from their plight or, where life was not so bad, from the disparity of so much power in the hands of so few. Hate and fear always seemed to work. 'Just find the right scapegoat… and run with it.' Different ethnicities — 'find a way to justify to Greeks that it's bad for the Turks and you're home free;' different styles of worship, even within the same faith — 'look a few countries east of here for daily, bloody examples of that;' race — 'name a Western country, make that any racially or tribally mixed place in the world, free of those tensions;' political differences — 'though significant ones are hard to find today among organized parties;' class distinctions — 'my family is better than yours because… fill in the blank;' and, in a pinch, fans of a rival sports team — 'no example necessary, GO OLYMPIAKOS OR GO PANATHINAIKOS. The bottom line goal: keep the focus off of us. Whoever us may be.'
Andreas had seen Marios perform enough times on TV to know he was building up to his point and that there'd be no hurrying him along.
'Hitler's rise to power in the 1930s should leave no doubt in anyone's mind that even the world's most advanced civilization can, under the right circumstances, allow a mind-boggling many to suffer for the goals of a few… and a miserable few at that.
'Since 9/11 much of the world's focus has been on threats of foreign terror, but in the long term what we face from within is likely to be far more menacing and difficult to control, absent a Stalinist-like will.' He paused and looked at Andreas. 'I'm not suggesting a return to the Regime of the Colonels, or anything of the sort. I'm just making my point.'
Andreas took that as Marios' way of saying he knew all about his father's service to the dictatorship and what followed. What Andreas couldn't tell was whether the remark was intended as some sort of threat or just to show that he knew his facts.
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