“In the mid-10th century Saracen pirates invaded Tinos, burned and leveled the church, and the holy icon vanished. Nine centuries later, in July 1822, a nun named Pelagia from a monastery northeast of the town had three recurring, consecutive Sunday visions of the Holy Virgin instructing her to convince her superiors to order digging at a specific place where they would find the missing holy icon and must build a church to the Holy Virgin.
“Her superiors believed the nun, but the place in her vision was a cultivated field and the owner was away in Constantinople, so excavations did not start until September. Within a matter of days the ruins of the ancient temple were discovered, but as more days wore on without finding the Megalochari the islanders lost heart and work stopped. Soon after, a great cholera epidemic struck the island, killing hundreds. The townspeople were frightened, believing they’d brought the epidemic on themselves by not following the Holy Virgin’s instructions. They prayed for forgiveness, resumed excavations, and began rebuilding a church on the unearthed ruins.
“On January 30, 1823, a laborer discovered the Holy Icon of the Megalochari by splitting it in two with his shovel. On one half was the Virgin Mary and on the other half the Archangel Gabriel. It had been buried for almost 850 years, yet when found was virtually undamaged. A miracle in and of itself.
“Sister Pelagia was sainted in 1970.”
Andreas reached for a biscuit, sneaking a peek at his watch as he did. He’d asked for the whole lecture. There was nothing he could do but listen.
“There was another immediate miracle recorded by historians of the time. From the moment the holy icon was discovered no more cases of the epidemic were reported and those suffering with the disease recovered.”
Andreas took a sip of coffee.
“The people of Tinos decided to build a much larger church than the one they’d started. Although they would finish the smaller one, work immediately began on what would become our magnificent Church of Panagia Evangelistria. The construction of the church and much of the eastern part of the complex you see today was completed in less than eight years, virtually all of it during Greece’s War of Independence with Turkey. That was another miraculous achievement, considering Tinos was a poor island and everything was done while it operated a wartime port, sent its young off to fight alongside other Greeks, and struggled to feed thousands of refugees fleeing here from other islands.
“They transported marbles and columns, mainly from ancient temples on the nearby holy island of Delos but also from Tinos’ ancient temple of Poseidon. Marble was mined from our finest quarries and the most famous artisans and technicians of the time worked side by side with unskilled laborers. Passing ships loaded with timber and other building materials generously donated part of their cargo for the construction. And when all seemed lost, the Holy Virgin would provide.”
“By a miracle, I presume,” said Tassos.
Eleni smiled, “Yes, uncle, ‘a miracle.’ At one point during the first years of construction the church faced serious financial difficulties and there seemed no choice but to halt work. A large English frigate, anchored at the time off the town’s beach, was suddenly engulfed in an unexpected storm driving it toward certain destruction on the rocks. The English vice-consul standing on the frigate’s deck saw our church under construction above the town and prayed for salvation from the storm, promising a substantial donation should he be delivered from harm.
“An eyewitness said the storm raged all across the sea but around the frigate there was absolute calm, as if protected by a divine hand. Faithful to his promise, the vice-consul went to the church, gave thanks to the Megalochari and one hundred Spanish pieces of eight to the church treasury. His generosity allowed construction to continue.”
“That’s the sort of money-making miracle Greece could use right now,” said a smiling Andreas.
Eleni’s tone turned sharp. “I’m afraid the Foundation has done just about all that it can for our country.”
Andreas forced a smile. “Uhh, no need to take that personally. It was meant to be funny. A witty observation on our times some might say.”
Eleni cleared her throat. “Sorry, I misunderstood. I thought you might be leading into the purpose for this meeting. I’m a bit sensitive on the subject of ‘financial miracles for Greece,’ it seems they’re always tied to some pitch for the Foundation to help ‘save our country.’”
“For yet another time,” said Tassos.
Eleni nodded. “Yes, the Foundation’s treasury has supported the Greek state in famines, floods, earthquakes, and all manner of other things.”
“As I recall,” said Tassos, “The Foundation offered all of its treasures in support of Greece’s defense against the Italian invasion in World War II.”
“Yes, the Italians commenced war against Greece by sinking the Greek destroyer Elli in a submarine attack in Tinos’ harbor on August 15, 1940, a day dedicated to celebrating the Megalochari. The Foundation responded by dedicating all of its resources toward Italy’s defeat.
“But the Foundation has always been there for our country. Right from the beginning we helped establish its national fleet. We were born out of the same times and our histories are interwoven. The very discovery of the Megalochari was taken as a divine sign that Greece’s fight for independence was just.” She shook her head, “But what our country faces today is well beyond our resources.”
“And just what are those resources?” said Andreas.
Eleni turned to Tassos. “Is that what this meeting is all about?”
“Whoa,” said Andreas. “Greece’s financial problems have nothing to do with why we’re here. I want to know what the Foundation has because we’re worried someone wants to steal it.”
Eleni stared at Andreas. “You can’t be serious.”
“As a matter of fact he is,” said Tassos.
“I can’t believe anyone would try to steal the Megalochari. Yes, during the day it is on display for all to worship and embrace. It must be. That is its purpose. But when not, it is locked in a safe. It is never out of sight or unprotected. Not since it was stolen.”
“Stolen?” said Andreas
Eleni nodded. “Once. One hundred and seventy years ago, on December 15, 1842 to be precise. An ex-convict passing through Tinos saw the holy icon draped in jewels and gold. Around midnight, after everyone was asleep, he used a rope to drop into the church and stole the holy icon, its gold and jewel offerings, and whatever other precious articles he could find.” Eleni crossed herself.
“The next morning the theft was discovered and the town went wild. Patrols scoured the island and rallied Tinians to find the thief. Every available ship circled the island to cut off the thief’s escape.
“He’d made it to the northwestern tip of the island, a quarter-mile from the neighboring island of Andros, and tried to convince some sailors to take him there. But they couldn’t agree on a price. A patrol found him around noon drinking at a spring. They searched him and found silver articles he could not explain, so they brought him to the governor of Tinos for questioning. The thief confessed and showed them where he’d hidden the holy icon and everything else he’d stolen.”
Tassos smiled, “I assume they obtained his cooperation through modern methods of police interrogation.”
“Probably,” smiled Andreas. “Yours.”
“He was sent to prison and died there, insane. Since that robbery, as I said, when not on display the Megalochari is locked in a safe.”
“I don’t mean to sound disrespectful, but in the hundred and seventy years since that robbery bad guys have gotten a lot more sophisticated,” said Andreas.
Eleni shrugged. “We’ve had no more problems of that sort.”
“So far. What else does your church have to steal besides the icon?” said Andreas.
She looked at her uncle. “I feel uncomfortable talking about that sort of thing without the permission of my boss. After all the Foundation is a private institution.”
&nbs
p; “What is there you can tell me?”
“You still haven’t told me ‘what’s on your mind,’ and since I can’t tell you what ‘else’ might attract a thief without first obtaining my boss’ permission, what if I tell you how the Foundation works? Maybe that will help you with your unstated questions.”
Andreas smiled. “Sounds like a place to start.”
“The founders of the Church of Panagia Evangelistria were forward thinkers who established a separate legal entity making Panagia Evangelistria neither a monastery nor a parish church. Its independent status as part of our Evangelistria Foundation was established by an act of the Greek state in 1835 and confirmed by royal decree in 1851. The Foundation’s operations are run by that ten-member commission I mentioned before, and its administration and management are under the supervision and control of the Greek state, not the Greek Church. Employees are appointed by the commission and paid out of the Foundation’s treasury. The Greek Church does not intervene in the administration of Panagia Evangelistria and the clergy hired to exercise religious duties in Panagia Evangelistria are employed and paid for by the Foundation, not by the state as with other Greek clergy.
“The Foundation derives its income mainly from donations, the performance of ritual celebrations and rites, legacies from deceased donors, the sale of offerings, and rents from properties.”
“Are you saying the Greek Church has no say in what the Foundation does with its money?” said Andreas.
“Essentially, yes.”
“That must make the Greek Church really happy.”
“Same answer, ‘essentially yes.’ The Foundation’s aims include religious, and we support pious clergymen and their families in need when there is no one else to help, and many of the clergy we helped have risen to positions of influence in the Greek Church. The Foundation also makes significant voluntarily contributions to the clergy’s pension fund and insurance, supports missionary activities outside of Greece, maintains and supports all of Tinos’ church organizations and parishes, and assists churches all over Greece affected by calamities. And our non-religious aims are in keeping with the good works of the Greek Church.”
Andreas caught himself nodding at the thought of how adept the Foundation was at keeping the Greek Church happy.
“We have supported our country in times of need, but also provided aid to those beyond our borders affected by natural disasters and war. On Tinos we have built or subsidized practically every school and related facility, granted college scholarships to poor but promising students no matter where in the world they chose to study, offered financial aid to the poor, sick, old, and incapable of working, created an old people’s home, helped finance the hospital, offered dowries to indigent girls, and supported the poor nuns of Saint Pelagia’s Kechrovouni Monastery.
“Most people outside of Tinos don’t realize all that we do for our island. In order for the Foundation to do its good works we rely upon the continuing generosity of our visitors and pilgrims, so the Foundation does what it must to make their stays pleasant. The Foundation has been behind most major public works projects on Tinos. In 1926 we funded the creation of an aqueduct system to replace the island’s reliance on wells, and thirty-five years later financed a new water distribution system. We’re responsible for the large avenues connecting Panagia Evangelistria to other parts of town, and in one way or another financed virtually every significant road-building project on the island. Major funding for Tinos’ man-made port and modern quay came from the Foundation, as did much of the funding for the power plant and high-tension distribution network bringing electricity to most of the island. Plus, we constructed hostels for pilgrims and help pay for many public services, such as fire fighting. The list of what the Foundation does for Tinos is endless.”
“Is there any part of life on Tinos not touched by the Foundation?” said Andreas.
“You mean that matters?” she smiled.
“ Touche.”
“The Foundation tries to be low-key. Its purposes are good works. And everyone connected with the Foundation knows that everything we have we owe to the Holy Virgin.”
“You mean the Megalochari,” said Andreas. “I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but without the holy icon Panagia Evangelistria would be just another church, impressive yes, but no longer a major draw for pilgrims and their offerings.”
Eleni started to say something, but Andreas put up his hand to stop her. “Honest, I respect what the Foundation does, but it’s all based on one very real and portable holy icon.” Andreas cleared his throat. “And that makes your church the target for what we have reason to believe is some very serious harm planned by some very bad guys.”
Eleni raised her voice, “What are you talking about?”
Andreas looked at Tassos. “Can we trust her?”
“Stop being cute, Chief Inspector.”
“I stopped being cute years ago. I just want to know if you feel obligated to tell your boss or the commission what I’m prepared to tell you?”
“Depends.”
“‘Depends’ doesn’t work for me. I need an absolute ‘no,’ at least until we get a better handle on what’s going on.”
“How can I agree to keep a secret like that from my boss if it’s as important as you say?”
“Trust me, it is important. But if you tell your boss, he’ll tell my boss, and that will end any chance your uncle and I will find out what’s supposed to happen before it does. All I can tell you is that whatever is planned is serious enough to get two men incinerated.”
“Are you saying the murder of those two tsigani brothers was related to a plot against our church?”
“I certainly wouldn’t bet against it.”
Eleni looked at Tassos. “What should I do, uncle?”
“I’ll tell you what I always say when someone asks me that question. But this time I actually believe it. ‘I think it’s best for you and everyone who might get hurt that you tell us what you know before it’s too late for us to help.’”
Eleni bit at her lower lip. “Do you really think there’s something to this?”
“Enough for us to be here,” said Tassos.
Eleni ran her fingers through her hair. “Okay, Chief Inspector, I promise not to tell anyone, including my boss, until you say it’s okay.”
Andreas looked at Tassos. Tassos nodded.
Andreas said, “We understand that recently an unusually high number of metanastes have come here looking for work and are willing to do so for whatever wage gets them the job.”
“There are a lot of new faces working on the island these days but I have no idea what they’re paid. At the Foundation we employ mostly Tinians in our office but there are many metanastes working on our construction projects. After all, it seems they’re the only ones willing to do hard labor these days.”
Andreas smiled. “For the time being. So, how are offerings to the church holding up in these times of crisis?”
“Not sure why that’s relevant, but I can tell you that in hard times many seek out the Megalochari who otherwise might not.”
“It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me numbers. After all, it doesn’t take a genius to count the people crowding daily into Panagia Evangelistria, multiply that by an estimated average value per offering, and conclude that there’s serious wealth passing to the church every day. And since much of what’s being offered is in the form of precious metals and gems, there has to be a place to store it all. Not every offering can stay draped around the Megalochari. The pile would reach the roof. And then there are all those offerings of oil and candles to contend with.”
Andreas shook his head. “Remember that transient foreign thief you talked about who took a shot at stealing the icon?” Andreas tapped his right index finger on the table. “At this very moment you have an island filled with transient bad guys who I can assure you are lot worse than that first Megalochari thief ever was. And I can also promise you that whatever escape plan they have in mind
won’t have them hanging around Tinos waiting to make a deal with local sailors.”
“What do you want from me?” said Eleni.
“I need to know what’s valuable enough in your church to get two human beings who claimed to know about a plan to rob Panagia Evangelistria murdered in a way that made a very public point.” Andreas decided not to mention the third dead brother. The woman was already alarmed enough.
“What point?” said Eleni.
“Wish I knew. Then I wouldn’t be bothering you as much as I am for help.”
“The Megalochari is, of course, our most priceless treasure but it is also worthless to anyone trying to sell it.”
“Not so,” said Tassos also gesturing no with his head. “There are mega-rich collectors out there holding priceless missing treasures in secret collections. They’d pay a fortune for the holy icon.”
“Plus any number of rich nuts out there, religious and otherwise, who’d love to have the power of the Megalochari all to themselves,” said Andreas. “And let’s not forget ransom. Can you imagine what the Foundation would pay to get the holy icon back?”
“I can assure you all of that has been considered and appropriate safeguards are in place.” Eleni sounded defensive.
“And in case you’re wrong?” said Andreas.
Eleni stared away. “There is also the Foundation’s art collection of icons, relics, paintings, sculpture…so many priceless things that I cannot possibly put a value on them.” She turned back to Andreas. “And, yes, places where the offerings and treasures are stored. Some are kept until they’re sold to help fund the Foundation’s purposes and others are saved for the true treasures they are.”
“In other words,” said Andreas, “the Foundation has a lot to steal.”
Eleni nodded.
“Can you think of any other potential targets on the island?” said Tassos.
“Many. There are some very wealthy families on Tinos.”
“Let’s just stick to the churches,” said Andreas.
Target: Tinos ak-4 Page 9
