Linardos cut him off. “Yes, we were.” He was still smiling.
“I was wondering if, in the course of your dealings, you heard of anyone who might harbor such anger toward him to do such a thing?”
“I’m sorry, ‘do such a thing?’ I thought this was a gay-bashing murder or lovers’ quarrel or something like that.”
“That’s the delicate part, sir. It looks to have been a premeditated murder made to look like what you described.”
“That’s horrible.” He blinked rapidly three times. “How can you be sure?”
“Forensics.”
“But why would anyone do that sort of thing to an innocent child?”
“Don’t know. That’s why we’re here. We were hoping you might have some idea who would. After all, the father was aggressive in his business tactics. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that.” Andreas paused, but Linardos said nothing. “So, I was wondering if, possibly, in defending against what he was doing to you, you might have come across information on other victims.”
“Victims?” Linardos voice almost cracked.
“Of Kostopoulos’ business tactics. Someone so upset with what he’d done to them, or tried to do, that they might be willing to kill his child for revenge.”
His smile was gone. “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I cannot help you. Those are not types of people I would know.”
“No, I don’t mean the ones who actually did the murder, I mean someone so angry with the father that he would resort to murder.” He wondered if he should say more. “Perhaps, to send a message?”
Linardos paused. Andreas wasn’t sure if it was to think or explode.
“No, sir, I’m afraid, I know of no such persons. I wish I could help but I can’t. If you think my lawyers might have come across that sort of information, I’ll be more than happy to arrange for you to speak with them.” Linardos stood up, a clear signal the audience was over.
“Thank you, sir, that would be very helpful.” Andreas and Kouros rose.
Linardos leaned across the desk to shake hands and say goodbye. He did not show them out. Andreas opened the door leading out of the office and allowed Kouros to pass through it first. Just as Andreas was closing it, he heard the bathroom door open. He doubted the problem was Linardos’ prostate.
***
“He didn’t even ask to see an ID!” Kouros almost was shouting. “I mean, we could have been anyone.”
Andreas smiled. “I guess he figured from the way we looked we couldn’t be anything but cops.”
Kouros turned his head and stared at Andreas.
“Hey, Yianni, watch where you’re driving.”
“You know he’s hiding something.” He looked back at the road.
“Yeah, no doubt about it.” Andreas scratched the top of his head with his right hand. “I got more than I expected. I pushed him to where I expected to hear ‘Who do you think you’re talking to?’ but he let it all pass.”
“We spent more time listening to him piss than talk.”
Andreas grinned. “That told us a lot more about him than anything he said. The guy was nervous.”
“A lot of people get nervous around us.”
Andreas shook his head. “Yeah, but not Linardos. He knows our boss. He knows everyone’s boss.”
“So, what’s he hiding?”
“Don’t know yet. But he’s definitely involved somehow. I can’t believe that if Marios knew about the banishment thing Greece’s most influential newspaper owner wouldn’t know about it, too, or at least have heard the rumor. And as far as not knowing anyone who might want to harm Kostopoulos…” Andreas waved his left hand in the air in little circles, “that would make him just about the only person in Greece who couldn’t name at least one.”
“Maybe he’s behind the whole thing?”
“Anything is possible, but I’d think whoever is would handle it better. Be cool. After all, getting nervous in front of cops attracts attention, no matter what the reason, and I don’t see the guys running this as nervous types. They’ve been at it too long and too successfully.”
Andreas drummed the fingers of his left hand on the dashboard. “I think he’s more worried about them than us. If they think he’s turned on them, he knows they’re capable of killing not just him, but his children. That could explain why he wouldn’t point a finger at even a publicly declared enemy of Kostopoulos. He’s afraid to be seen as cooperating with us one bit.”
“Can’t blame him.”
Andreas looked at Kouros. “What are you saying?”
“He has to protect his family.”
“From us?” Andreas’ voice was rising. “I’m not used to hearing that sort of don’t-trust-the-government Greek bullshit from a cop.”
“Come on, Chief, if this is a big-time conspiracy, don’t you think Linardos believes whatever he says to us will get back to the bad guys?”
Andreas’ temper was rising. “Yianni—”
Kouros cut him off but his tone was apologetic. “Chief, you know I’m not saying we’re like that, but how does he know to trust us? Virtually everyone in this country thinks everyone in government is corrupt. We know that’s not true but, let’s be honest, even we’re careful about what information we let out of our unit. If he knows how dangerous these guys are, can you really blame him for wanting nothing to do with us?”
This was not a conversation that the chief of a police unit wanted to have with a subordinate, no matter how valid the point might be. “Let’s head on over to the bar.” Andreas said the words without emotion. He wondered if this was how Don Quixote might have felt had he ever accepted that Sancho Panza might be right about the windmill.
CHAPTER 12
They arrived at the bar and parked up the street to wait for the place to open. Andreas wanted the undivided attention of the owner, unencumbered by the demands of a busy late-night crowd.
From outside, the place wasn’t large as bars go; no more than twelve feet wide at most, with just two small windows, one on each side of a single glossy black door that opened directly onto the street. The windows were done in an opaque, black and silver hand-cuff motif, leaving no doubt to the casual observer just what sort of place this was; even though no one could tell from the outside what actually was going on within The Ramrod. That name was announced in all white letters on both windows.
A man dressed in a business suit walked up to the door and went inside.
“Well, I guess it’s open for business. Time to move.” Andreas opened his car door.
Kouros was quiet as they walked toward the bar. He hadn’t spoken for quite a while.
When they got to the front door, Andreas put his hand on Kouros arm to stop him. “One thing, Yianni, I want you to keep whatever feelings you have about this sort of place in check. Do you understand?”
No answer.
“I said, ‘Do you understand?’”
Kouros exhaled. “Yes, Chief.”
“Good, let’s go in.”
Andreas went through the door first. There was no one inside, and it was not what he expected. A light-colored, well-worn wooden bar with a brass footrail ran for about twenty feet along the left wall. It stood in front of an even longer mirror reflecting three ascending rows of liquor bottles. Four faintly glowing casino-style lights in amber-colored glass hung equidistant over the bar. A dozen matching wooden stools lined the bar. The floor was dark, likely old marble, and there were no tables to be seen. This was where customers mingled. For sitting and other nonvertical activities they had to find someplace else.
At the back of the room were two doors. The one to the right was marked WC, the other unmarked, but if it led to the outside it should be marked with an exit sign. Just beyond the far end of the bar on the left was an open doorway leading to what looked to be a hallway. Andreas walked over and stared through the doorway. This place was bigger than it appeared from outside. There was a closed, unmarked door directly across from where he stood. The hallway ran for about thirty feet stra
ight back to another door, this one marked exit. On the wall to the right was another unmarked door. From its location Andreas guessed it led to the same place as the unmarked door in the back of the bar room. Separate entrances for patrons trying to hook up discreetly with each other, perhaps. As for what went on once inside those doors—
“Excuse me, can I help you?” It was the voice of a man coming through the unmarked doorway next to the toilet.
Andreas turned and smiled. “I certainly hope so.”
Andreas could tell the man was checking them out. Only natural. Andreas was doing the same thing. Hard not to: the man’s appearance demanded attention. He was about fifty years old, five-foot-ten, stocky, but not fat, with a gleaming, bald head and jet-black handlebar mustache. He wore a silver velveteen shirt, embroidered in a white floral pattern set off by pearl buttons. A thick silver German cross on an even thicker silver chain hung around his neck. His pants were black leather, his shoes black Pumas with silver laces. This was a man in his element, and certainly not the man in the business suit, wherever he might be at the moment.
“Are you the owner?” Andreas asked.
“Who’s asking?” The guy knew how to be belligerent.
Andreas didn’t answer, just pulled his ID out from beneath his shirt and showed it to him. Kouros did the same.
“Okay, yeah, this is my place. Name’s Pericles. What can I do for you?” His tone hadn’t changed. Maybe that’s just the way he was.
“We’re here about the body in the dumpster.”
“I already told the cops everything I know.”
“Well, we just have a few more questions. Mind if we sit down?” Andreas gestured toward the bar.
Pericles grunted, “Go ahead.” Andreas hoped he might be more comfortable talking to them across a bar, something, from the looks of the place, he’d been doing for decades. The man walked behind the bar and stood in front of them. “Want something?”
“Just water would be fine, thanks,” said Andreas.
“And you?” He was looking at Kouros.
No answer.
He reached under the bar and handed Andreas a bottle of water. “A glass?”
“No, thanks, this is fine.”
He looked back at Kouros. “You want a glass to share your buddy’s water?”
Again Kouros said nothing, but his facial expression tightened. The man didn’t seem to notice, or maybe just didn’t care.
“So, like I said, what can I do for you?”
“I was wondering if you noticed anything strange or out of the ordinary that night.” No need to tell him which night. The guy knew what this was about.
He smiled. “Strange and out of the ordinary happen here every night.”
Andreas laughed. “Okay, but you know what I mean.”
“No, it was just a typical Saturday night. No rowdies, no problems.”
“Any strangers?”
“Sure, it’s the nature of the place.”
“What about when you were closing up? Anything different? Anybody come in, look around, and leave?”
“That happens all the time, too. I don’t even notice anymore, except when they yell something. It’s mostly kids who do that, just before they run out. Usually on some dare that if they hassle gays it proves their manhood. You know the type.” He looked at Kouros.
Andreas looked down at the bottle of water and drummed his fingers on the bar thinking, this guy’s picked up on Kouros’ vibe and is into busting his balls. Better get out of here. He’s got nothing to tell us anyway. He turned to Kouros. “Anything to add?”
Kouros was tight-lipped and gestured no.
Andreas stood up and pulled a card out of his pocket. “Well, thanks for your time, sir, and if you think of anything, please give me a call.”
“No problem.” He stared at the card. “Hey, you know, come to think of it, there was one guy. But he didn’t just come in and leave. He sat here for about two hours.”
“Was that unusual?” asked Andreas.
“Not really, he just sat quietly on that stool,” he pointed to the one closest to the front door, “sipping a Coke and not talking to anybody. Once in a while he’d make a phone call on his mobile.”
“Then why him?”
“Well, it was late and I wanted to close up, but I had two regulars at the bar and this guy.” He pointed again to the bar stool by the door. “They wouldn’t leave.”
“What about back there?” Andreas pointed to the unmarked door next to the one for the toilet.
Pericles hesitated. “No one was in there. Besides,” he grinned, “all we have to do to empty out that place is slowly turn up its lights. Anyway, my guy took out the garbage, mopped the floors, and I started turning out the lights in here. Finally, the two regulars got up to leave.”
Andreas interrupted him. “What about the other guy?”
“That’s the strange part. He hadn’t talked to anyone all night, but when the two headed toward the back door he ran after them and dragged them back in from the hallway as if they were old friends, saying ‘Let’s have another drink on me.’ I was pissed. I wanted to close, but he gave me a hundred euro tip, so I stayed open another half-hour. He seemed an okay guy. Interesting, too.”
“What did he talk about?”
“That’s what made him interesting, he had a real knack for getting everyone to talk about themselves without giving away a thing about himself. I overheard everything they said. I had nothing left to do but listen, and all I heard were stories my regulars had repeated a hundred times before. But that guy made them think it was the very first time they told them, and that he genuinely was interested in every single word.”
“Sounds like a guy trying to get laid.” It was Kouros.
“My god, you can speak.” Pericles smiled. “Yes, I suppose it does, but if you ask me, this wasn’t a guy looking for that. At least not in here, anyway.”
“He was straight?” Andreas didn’t sound surprised.
“In my professional opinion, yes.” He smiled.
“How can you be sure?”
“Ahh, he speaks a second time.” Pericles smiled at Kouros.
Andreas touched Kouros’ elbow to remind him to keep his cool.
Pericles looked at Andreas. “I have great gaydar. I can tell who is straight and—” he shifted his look to Kouros, “who’s in the closet.”
Kouros didn’t budge. He just stared at Pericles, blew him a kiss and said, “In your wettest, wildest dreams, old man.”
The two glared at each other.
“Cool it, both of you. Yianni, this is Pericles’ place, show some respect, and Pericles, stay serious, this is a murder investigation.” The glaring didn’t stop.
Andreas figured it was only a matter of seconds before World War III broke out.
“Yianni, wait in the car.” His voice was sharp.
Kouros looked at Andreas.
“I said, wait in the car.” It was in the unmistakable tone of an order.
Kouros gave a hard look at Pericles, slid off the stool, and left.
Andreas decided not to ask any more questions until things cooled down a bit. After a few minutes, Pericles began wiping the top of the bar.
“Ever see the guy any other time?”
“No.”
“Happen to get a name?”
He exhaled and put the rag under the bar. “It was Niko or something, but I’m sure it wasn’t real. Most don’t use real ones in here.”
“Do you remember what he looked like?”
Pericles shut his eyes. “He was about five and half feet tall, slim. Dark hair, dark eyes, and light skin. He was in his thirties, I’d say, but tried to look younger. Don’t we all.” He opened his eyes.
“What do you mean ‘tried to look younger’?”
“He wore jeans and a tee shirt like kids do, and his hair was long, like a college student’s.”
“Anything else?”
Pericles shut his eyes for a few seconds and opened
them. “Yes. He had a beard. Well, not really a beard, I think it’s called a chin strip.”
“A what?”
“One of those thin little things that run from here to here.” He pinched his fingers together just below the center of his lower lip and drew them down to the bottom of his chin. “You might say it was a very gay-looking beard.” He smiled.
Andreas smiled back. “Anything else?”
“No. As soon as he got a phone call he was out of here.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
“Thanks,” said Andreas.
Pericles smiled. “I want to say thanks, too.” He put his right hand across the bar.
Andreas nodded, shook the man’s hand, and left—to deal with Kouros.
***
The car was rocking from Andreas’ anger. He was shouting, shaking his fists, and pounding on the dash. The bottom line: no matter how much Andreas liked him and respected his abilities, if Kouros couldn’t control himself and keep his personal feelings in check, he couldn’t work for Andreas. It made him too easy to manipulate. Andreas couldn’t have made it clearer had he tattooed his words inside Kouros’ eyelids, undoubtedly a far more pleasant experience than the one Kouros was enduring at the moment.
“This is your last chance! Do you understand me?”
Kouros’ chin hadn’t left his chest since Andreas slammed the car door and started in on him. “Yes, sir.” It was said in about as meek a voice as Andreas could imagine coming from someone Kouros’ size.
“Good, then let’s never talk about this subject again.”
Andreas, drew in a deep breath, exhaled and told Kouros to drive to headquarters.
Kouros didn’t say a word. The silence was uncomfortable. Andreas tried breaking the tension by filling him in on what Pericles had said after Kouros left the bar.
“Chief.” His voice was tentative.
“Yes.”
“That guy at the bar, the one who, uhh, didn’t belong.”
“Yes.” Andreas wondered where this was headed.
“Doesn’t he sound familiar?”
“Not particularly.”
“At the coffee shop, where Anna worked, the guy at that back table who said he saw the two who killed the boy. You asked me before to speak to her about him, and I planned on doing that first thing tomorrow. The description of the guy in the bar sounds just like him.”
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