“Efisio. Not sure,” said Kouros. “Don’t think so, but he may have a telephone number for him. He went to Anna’s apartment about three this morning and asked if she had anything for him. She said ‘yes,’ but yes could have meant something else.”
“Like what?” asked Maggie.
“Like would you…sleep with me, because two minutes after he asked all we heard was…” he looked first at Maggie, then at Andreas, rolling his hand as if trying to mime the word.
“Fucking?” Maggie suggested with a smile.
Andreas ignored them. He saw this as the sort of banter cops needed to stay sane. “So, Maggie, what do you have for us on Efisio?”
“It’s a common first name. Interpol and the Italian police show six from that area wanted on big time kidnapping and murder charges, and not a current possible location for any of them.”
“Wonderful.” Andreas tapped his pencil on the desk. “What’s with this Demosthenes character? What’s he up to?” He kept tapping. “It’s pretty clear it’s tied in to what our old friend and colleague Tassos Stamatos told me this morning…which reminds me, neither of you is to speak to him about anything.”
He watched Maggie’s face drop. “Concerning this investigation.”
She smiled again.
He waved his finger at her. “But you better be damn careful.”
“Am I missing something?” It was Kouros.
Andreas waved off the question. “Okay, Maggie, see if you can find anything else on Efisio. Try going backward from anything we have on his ex-girlfriend, Anna.”
“Will do.”
Maggie left, and Andreas filled in Kouros on his conversations with Kostopoulos and Tassos.
“Seems pretty clear Demosthenes is the link.”
Andreas shrugged. “If you believe everything Tassos says.”
“You really don’t trust the guy.”
“You’re one of the few who knows why.”
“Yeah, but he wasn’t trying to set you up. You just don’t like his ethics.”
Andreas pointed a finger at Kouros’ heart. “Once you make the first compromise, it’s so much easier to make a second, and bigger one, and by the third…” he rolled his finger over into circles in the air. “Bottom line, don’t do that first deal with the devil for what you think is just a tiny bit of your soul unless you’re prepared to lose the whole thing somewhere down the line.”
It was tough keeping cops straight. Most made less than a thousand a month. All Andreas could do was keep making his point and hope some, like Kouros, got it. He hoped he didn’t sound hypocritical, considering the other night.
“Anyway, if Tassos is correct, we have an ultraconservative group looking to keep Athenian society pure involved somehow with revolutionaries hot to bring down the rich. From what we know, that makes Demosthenes our most likely candidate for making both sides happy.”
Kouros nodded. “He feeds the leftists the rich meat they want.”
“And protects the wacko rich from the revolutionaries by letting the wackos pick who gets slaughtered.”
“How’s the paid muscle fit in?”
Andreas shook his head. “Not sure yet, but from what Kostopoulos told me about getting press clippings along with a message telling him this was what happened to families who didn’t leave, my guess is most fled because of psychological strong-arming, not muscle.”
“Quite a monster.”
“Better believe it. Fascists for a head and revolutionaries with retractable, professional killer claws to capture and destroy the prey.”
“What part is Demosthenes?”
“Central nervous system, bringing it all together.”
“More like the asshole if you ask me.”
Andreas grinned. “So, where do you suggest we go from here?”
“Why don’t we bring him in?”
“For what? Being inside a gay bar the night the kid was murdered? He has a room full of alibis. And all we have on tape is Demosthenes asking for an address on Mykonos and the telephone number of some guy from Sardinia. Big deal. Bringing him in only sends the whole operation spinning out of control and underground. We’re better off letting him run loose, on a tight leash. He’s our only chance of finding whoever’s at the head of whatever this is—and cutting the damn thing off.”
“We’ve got 24/7 coverage on him and the girl. It’s up to Demosthenes to make the next move.”
Andreas leaned back and stretched. He yawned, too. He’d forgotten how tired he was. “Just make sure to be there when he does.”
Kouros left and Andreas buzzed Maggie. “No interruptions except for Kouros. I’ve got a lot of work to catch up on.”
“Nitey nite.”
Andreas looked at the phone, then walked over to the couch, pushed some papers onto the floor, and lay down. He kicked off his shoes, and fell asleep to a single thought: Is it just Andreas Kaldis, or is every man transparent to the women who know him?
CHAPTER 19
It was tougher than usual finding a phone to use at the university, but Demon did.
“Hello, is this Efisio?” Demon spoke in Italian, using his most conciliatory, solicitous voice.
“Who’s this?” In the tone of those two words Demon sensed what Anna feared.
“I have a proposition to discuss with you.”
“How did you get this number?” Menace was the tone.
“Through a mutual acquaintance.”
“Who’s that?” Now anger.
“Can’t say.”
“Conversation’s over.”
Demon panicked. “Anna, it was Anna.”
Dead silence. Demon thought he hung up. “Are you there?”
“Where is she?” For an instant Demon wondered if it were the same person; the voice was so unexpectedly calm. As at the eye of a hurricane.
“In time, my friend, in time.” Demon spoke softly.
Efisio exploded. “She’s dead, do you hear me, dead. You, too, asshole, if you don’t tell me where she is now!”
Demon felt back in control. He loved it when adversaries lost their tempers. “That would be a terrible shame, and a loss of a lot of money for you.”
“Where is she, where is the miserable—”
“Now, Efisio, if you don’t need forty million euros just tell me, and I’ll take my business elsewhere.”
“She’s dead.” He did not scream this time.
“Going once…”
“What did you say?” The voice was back to flat.
“Going twice…”
“About the money.” Efisio’s voice showed just the touch of anxiety Demon was hoping for.
“Ah yes, the forty million euros. Are you interested?”
“Are you some sort of wacko?”
“If you’re willing to meet, you can decide for yourself. You pick the time and place, as long as it’s in Athens and by no later than tomorrow.”
“If you’re fucking with me…” Efisio was back to threatening, but his tone wasn’t.
“I know, don’t bother telling me what you’ll do to me, but if I’m not, I’m the person who is about to set you up for the rest of your life. That will make me your boss, and I’ll expect to be called sir.”
Demon heard a muffled curse, no doubt from Efisio’s attempt to cover the phone with his hand, followed by a calmly said “How do I tell you when and where?”
Demon said a cell phone number and told Efisio to text the details there.
Efisio grunted, “Okay,” and hung up.
Demon put down the phone and ran his hands through his hair. It was a long time since he’d dealt with someone as out of control as Efisio. The guy probably was a psycho. He must be careful. He knew that ultimately he’d have turn over Anna, and the kid, too, when Efisio found out about him, but not until after he finished the job. Demon shrugged, as if talking to himself. Too bad for them—but shit happens.
***
“Chief, it’s Kouros.” The words came over the intercom. Mag
gie said them three times.
“Okay, be right with him.” Andreas twisted off the couch, stretched, and looked at his watch. He’d slept for all of forty-five minutes.
He reached across the desk for the phone. “Yianni?”
“He’s made contact.”
Andreas still was a bit fuzzy. “Who are we talking about?”
“Demosthenes. He spoke to the Sardinian. He went to the university again this morning to make a call. We thought he might, so we set it up to shut down every line but the ones we’d covered.”
“Must have pissed off a lot of people trying to make calls.”
“Imagine if they knew we did it.”
Andreas preferred not to. Cops tapping phones while illegally on university grounds was not a wise career move. “So, what did they say?”
“They’re meeting sometime today or tomorrow in Athens. Efisio is text-messaging the details to Demosthenes. We got the cell number, so we can intercept.” He paused. “Chief, there’s something else.”
“What is it?”
“I think we should pick them up when they meet.”
“Why?”
“This Efisio is a real crazy. My bet is he’s wanted by the Italians for serious shit.”
“So what? We’ve got our own serious shit to worry about here.”
“The guy promised to kill Anna. I mean he screamed what he intended to do to her.”
“Does he know where to find her?”
“Not yet. But I wouldn’t bet on Demosthenes keeping it secret much longer.”
Andreas didn’t answer immediately. “I understand where you’re coming from, but the only reason I’ve heard so far for blowing this investigation out of the water is to question, not even arrest, an Italian living outside of Greece who might be wanted in another country. And why? Because in an angry rage he told a third party what he wants to do to his ex-girlfriend if he ever finds her. I’m not convinced.”
Kouros paused. “There’s the forty million euros he offered Efisio.”
“Forty million euros! To do what?”
“Didn’t say.”
“Holy Christ, Yianni, we’re in the wrong line of work.”
“I was thinking the same thing.”
Andreas rubbed at his eyes with the heel of his left hand. “How can we do anything but let this play out? Either Demosthenes is a nut-job or into something so big I don’t want to think about it. Forty million euros.”
Kouros cleared his throat. “But don’t you think we have enough to squeeze Demosthenes into making a deal to give up whoever killed the Kostopoulos kid?”
“And turn us into media heroes?”
“I was thinking more along the lines of catching the killers we’re looking for and letting someone else chase after whatever else is out there. Hiding in some cave, with long sharp teeth and claws, breathing fire—”
“Okay, okay, I get your point. I’ll think about it. In the meantime, make sure whoever’s watching Anna’s apartment knows the ex-boyfriend’s threatened to kill her, and that they’re to protect her, if necessary. Okay?”
“Okay.”
They hung up. No way Andreas could go back to sleep now. Too excited. He leaned back against his desk and stared out the window toward the sky. What Yianni said made sense. The only crime his unit was officially investigating was the Kostopoulos murder. They probably could nail who did it with the right amount of heat on Demosthenes. But there was something so much bigger going on…
Curiosity always was one of Andreas’ weaker—or stronger—traits, depending on whether curiosity killed the cat. Or, satisfaction brought it back.
“Forty fucking million euros!” He’d made up his mind.
***
Demon was feeling the pressure. Kostopoulos was doing things they’d not expected. He had to be stopped. And quickly. It wasn’t just the Old Man who was pressing him. There was unhappiness throughout the pack. He had to keep the old lions in line. They were his future. He smiled. Make that a pride of lions. Yes, he had to keep the pride of his old lions intact. He enjoyed smiling at the little jokes he made in his mind. They helped keep him calm, too. Which was what he must remain if he hoped to survive being dumb enough to meet alone with a psycho-killer-kidnapper.
He looked at his phone again. The message read, “Four. Plaza opposite Hadrian’s Arch. Wear PAOK hat backwards.” The message came in at three-thirty. Not sure if it meant today or tomorrow. He made it here with only seconds to spare. Finding the Arch wasn’t the problem. It’s been standing in central Athens for almost two thousand years as the symbolic entrance to the city, and the square across the avenue marked the start of today’s main pedestrian walkway into the area of the Acropolis. The problem was finding the hat. PAOK was a team from northern Greece with legendary, insane fans. They regularly started fires inside their basketball stadium to celebrate, and no one seemed to notice or care except those charged with carrying fire extinguishers. Come to think of it, no surprise he picked that team’s hat.
Demon stood by the front of the square looking up and down the street. He walked twice around the square’s dominating statue of actress Melina Mercouri, one of Greece’s more modern symbols, and stared back into the square. Maybe it’s tomorrow. The phone beeped once and another message appeared: “Syndagma to Omonia. now. Nice hat.” Demon looked around, but people were everywhere. He could be any of them. Syndagma to Omonia made no sense. Why not say one or the other? Then it hit him. The message was about metro stops.
Demon ran to the metro entrance closest to Parliament and in two stops was in Omonia. As he was coming up to the square from the platform below, he noticed another message on the phone: “Piraeas.” It was Athens’ port city and as far south as you could go from Omonia on the old electrikos train line, with its almost two dozen stops between Kifissia on the north and Piraeas. “Shit, the mother fucker’s playing with me.” But he got on the train.
In Piraeas the message was “Larisis,” which meant switching to another train and heading for the railroad station northwest of Omonia that linked Athens to the rest of Greece. He was not going to leave Athens, no matter what the next message said. Or so he kept telling himself. He didn’t have to decide, because at Larisis the message switched him back to the metro and back to Omonia station, two stops away. In Omonia there was no message waiting for him. He looked around. No one seemed to be paying attention to him.
Demon checked the phone to make sure there was cell service and looked around again. That’s when he heard the beep and saw “Kifissia.” That meant switching for another ride on the electrikos; this time as far north as the line ran. He’d been traveling for hours and now was the height of rush hour; he was pissed, but made it.
One stop later, as people pressed into the car, a little guy who’d been standing nearby bumped into him. The man turned as if to say “excuse me” but what Demon heard was, “Drop the hat, follow me,” in a voice unmistakably Efisio’s.
Demon froze. He watched the little man walk to the doors and step off the train, never looking back. Demon pulled off the hat and rushed to follow him, pushing and shoving passengers out of his way. He even knocked a woman to the floor also trying to reach the doors. But he made it.
He looked around for Efisio and saw him walking slowly toward the exit at the center of the platform. This was Victoria Station, and they were headed up to the street. Demon thought, if you were looking for a neighborhood in which to meet someone you might want to kill, without shaking up the locals, this was a very good choice of metro stop. Demon didn’t smile at that joke.
Once on the streets, Demon stayed twenty yards or so behind Efisio. A few blocks from the station, on Feron Street just past Aristotelous, Efisio stopped beside a parked black Fiat. Two men were in the front seat and the engine was running. He waited until Demon was next to the car before opening the back door. “Get in.”
Demon didn’t see a choice. One way or the other, this was the end of the line for him if he failed.
Kouros was with the surveillance team watching Demosthenes’ apartment when the first message was intercepted. It set off a mad scramble: Andreas sent a male-female team dressed as tourists running off to photograph everyone around the square across from the Arch; two cops watching Demosthenes’ apartment were ordered to drop everything and follow him; and Kouros was told to get back to headquarters immediately.
By the time the Syndagma to Omonia message came through, two more cops in plainclothes were sitting in a blue OTE telephone repair van next to the Arch. They were told to hustle over to Syndagma and follow the suspect, now wearing a black and white PAOK cap.
They saw Demosthenes running toward the metro entrance and followed him to Omonia. That’s where they almost lost him. He was headed out of the station but unexpectedly turned and went back in, trapping the two cops on a crowded, ascending escalator. By the time they started back down, Demosthenes was out of sight. They split up to look for him and, when the message came through that he was headed to Piraeas, only one cop was close enough to catch the train.
Andreas kept his fingers crossed they wouldn’t lose him in Piraeas. No way to get more people from his unit there in time, and he couldn’t risk involving local cops. They weren’t trained for this sort of thing. Then he saw the next message: Larisis. What a break. Demosthenes was headed back north and into their waiting arms.
A new team picked him up at Larisis and followed him to Omonia.
There was no new message at Omonia. Demosthenes was in the middle of the platform looking around. Maybe the meet was here? Finally, a new message, Kifissia was the next destination. Perfect. They followed him to the new platform. One cop walked to where the car behind Demosthenes would board, the other to where the car in front of him would be. Neither wanted to risk spooking him by getting too close. There would be plenty of time to move closer later.
***
Kouros stuck his head into Andreas’ office. “We lost him.”
“What!”
Kouros stepped inside and closed the door. “He got off at Victoria.”
“Victoria? I didn’t see Victoria on any message.”
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