Andreas flashed him an open palm. “Plus, we’ve got a prosecutor and forensic supervisor back on Lesvos trying to pin Volandes’ murder on someone we know is innocent, who just happens to be employed by an NGO with an executive director hell-bent on committing suicide by threatening to publicly name the real killer. A name she does not know, I should add.”
“To be fair,” said Yianni, “it looks like she guessed right about Izmir being the big guy’s headquarters.”
“That could turn out to be a pyrrhic victory. A lot of people in Turkey might get nervous about what else she could know, and see her as too big a risk to ignore.”
“I think she’s going to cool it for now,” said Yianni.
“Let’s hope so, especially since we have no idea where Aryan is.”
“What about that Malik guy?” asked Maggie.
Andreas picked up a pencil. “We know from Tassos’ informant that Malik runs refugee smuggling out of Turkey into Lesvos, and according to the Turkish inspector, he’s a cousin of the businessman beheaded in his office in Izmir. Plus, the guy found beheaded in a stolen car in Malik’s territory the night after Volandes’ murder worked with Malik’s brother-in-law in refugee smuggling.”
“A very cozy family arrangement,” said Maggie.
Yianni nodded. “Until someone badly pissed off Aryan.”
Andreas began tapping the pencil onto his desk. “Yianni, you’ve just given me an idea.”
“Would you like to share it?” said Maggie.
“Pissed off. That’s the key to nailing Aryan. We’ve got to find someone pissed off badly enough at Aryan to testify that he’s our killer.”
“And how do you suggest we go about finding someone willing to risk a literal beheading to help us put Aryan away?” asked Yianni.
“Let’s start with the Greek family killed in the Turkish café. We know they weren’t the targets, Aryan was. That’s likely what set him off, and the guy found later that night beheaded in the stolen car, who must have been tied into the botched hit, worked with Malik’s brother-in-law.”
“Which meant Aryan knew Malik was involved.”
Andreas nodded. “And possibly others.”
“Like the late Izmir businessman,” said Yianni.
“Which brings me back to wondering why that Malik guy’s still breathing,” said Maggie.
Yianni shrugged. “Perhaps because he fingered the Izmir bad guy to Aryan as the big boss behind everything?”
“Could be,” said Andreas, “but that still has Malik involved in the hit, and Aryan doesn’t strike me as the sort who gives a pass to someone who tried to kill him.”
“Maybe he’s using him for something else?” said Maggie.
“Aryan used Malik to get him in to see that guy in Izmir, and Malik later told the police he only did it because Aryan had him as a hostage.”
“A bullshit story,” said Yianni.
Andreas pointed the pencil at Yianni. “But what if he really is some sort of hostage? That would explain why he’s still breathing. Because he’s more valuable to Aryan alive than dead.”
“For how long is that going to last?” said Maggie.
“Precisely.” Andreas slammed the pencil on the desk. “And I bet you Malik knows that, too. All we have to do is find a way to get to Malik, and let him know that if he’s willing to testify against Aryan, we’ll protect him.”
“He’s going to want immunity for his part in the killing.”
“If we get to the point of negotiations, I’d say we’re way ahead of where we are now. Let’s cross that bridge if we ever get to it. For now, though, we need to find some way to get to Malik. And we can’t use the Turkish police. Who knows what they’ll do.”
“How about through one of his family?” said Maggie.
“If you happen to know a family member willing to turn on him, I’m all ears,” said Andreas.
She waved her hand at Andreas in a less than ladylike gesture.
“So, how then do we get to Malik?” said Yianni.
“That’s the sixty-four-thousand-euro question, and the only way I can think of finding the answer is from someone on the ground in Turkey who moves in those circles.” Andreas leaned in toward Maggie and smiled. “Or perhaps through someone who knows such a person with access to Malik’s world.”
“If you’re talking about Tassos, don’t look at me. I’m more pissed at him than Aryan is at the Turks.”
“A lover’s quarrel?” said Yianni.
“No. Two people have to speak to each other in order to quarrel. And the son of a bitch hasn’t called me or answered my calls since he left here after Easter.”
Andreas started to say something, but stopped.
“Sounds like he’s all wrapped up in a case,” said Yianni.
“Nice try, Detective. That’s the same sort of bullshit I’m getting from his office when I call Syros asking to speak with him.” She twisted her shoulders back and forth and mimicked a coy young thing saying, “‘I’m sorry, he’s on assignment and unavailable.’”
Yianni laughed. “Do you really think something’s wrong?”
“If there isn’t, there damn sure will be by tomorrow, because if I don’t hear from him by the end of the day, I’m on the first boat out of Piraeus to Syros Saturday morning.”
Andreas pushed his pencil away. “I’m sure everything’s fine and there’s no need to worry.”
Maggie closed her eyes and sighed. “I hope so. God, I hope so.”
l l l l l
Aryan did not return to Malik’s house until well after dark, first calling Tomislav to tell him he would be knocking on the back door.
“Where have you been?” said a somewhat hysterical Malik when Aryan strode into the living room.
“Making the world safe for you, my partner.” He nodded at Deema. She looked away.
“The police have been here three times. Twice this morning and once this afternoon. The last time they searched the house.”
“Did they find anything?”
“No.”
“Good, then what are you worried about?” Aryan stretched and yawned.
“They might come back and find you.”
“So what? They have no reason to arrest me.”
“You killed my cousin.”
“No, we killed your cousin. And if I am arrested, you’re arrested. Our defense is self-defense. Pure and simple.”
“But I told them I was not involved in the meeting where you murdered him.”
“You were nervous, so you lied, because you were afraid of his proven vengeful children. But no matter, your only way out is to claim self-defense, and Tomislav here––a former employee of the decedent and the only objective observer in the room at the time––will back us up on that.”
Tomislav nodded.
“But what if they find out about your past? There may be others who want to arrest you.”
He smiled. “I have no past.”
Malik shook his head, and pointed toward an ivory inlaid coffee table. “That package on the table came for you.”
Aryan picked up a book-size envelope. “It’s light.” He turned it over in his hands several times, sniffing at it as he did, before carefully opening it at one end. He smiled as soon as he saw inside. “Ah, how I love efficiency.”
He dumped the contents on the table: a blood-soaked red beret with bullet hole through the top.
Deema walked out of the room.
Malik stared at the beret. “He was the last of my cousin’s bloodline.”
“A lesson to be taken,” said Aryan. “I’m hungry, what do we have to eat?”
Malik called for the maid, his face pale.
“Don’t be so disheartened, it’s a new life for us. Everything will work out just fine.” He eyed a bowl of dried apricots on a si
deboard across the room.
“The police will be back,” said Malik.
“Why do you keep saying that? They have nothing to go on as long as we keep saying self-defense.” He walked toward the sideboard.
“No, it’s not that. They think I know someone I do not know. They asked me, they asked my wife, they asked the maid, they asked Tomislav, they asked me again.”
Aryan reached for a dried apricot. “Who are they looking for?”
“Someone named Alban Kennel.”
Aryan blinked and withdrew his hand. He’d lost his appetite.
l l l l l
Deema hurried up the stairs toward her children’s room. She knew the meaning of the bloody beret: another life taken by the two men who one day soon would take hers.
Then who would look after her children? Who would keep them from turning into their father, or the foreigner?
She stood outside her children’s bedroom staring at the door.
It is better they die now than face such a fate.
She shut her eyes, and did what so many seeking refuge did in such moments of total despair. She prayed.
Chapter Sixteen
At five years old, Tassaki had begun the process of schooling that would take him on a fixed route though the traditional institutions attended by Greece’s rich and prominent. Rarely did the routine vary, except for those who went off to boarding schools in foreign lands, because the camaraderie of childhood translated into lifelong connections and support.
The big adjustment in his life, though, came in the form of a three-month-old sister. His friends had siblings, so did his cousins, but having one of your own living with you on your once-exclusive turf was different. His mother and father went out of their way to tell him how lucky they all were to have another person to love and love them, but he wasn’t so sure. She didn’t talk, slept a lot, and cried sometimes, but no one seemed to mind. A lot of visitors came to the apartment to see her. They’d bring her gifts, tickle her toes, and make sounds and faces he thought silly. They’d also say nice things to him, and some even brought him gifts, but he knew they’d really come to see her.
Babies needed a lot of attention. They weren’t grown up like he was. His father had told him he had a duty as her brother to protect his sister. He knew a duty was something important, but how would he know that his sister needed help when she couldn’t talk? It wasn’t like with those babies he saw on television, the ones who’d fallen into the sea and couldn’t swim. He could tell they needed help.
He was lucky. He knew how to swim.
l l l l l
“Why are you looking so serious, son?” said Andreas tousling Tassaki’s hair.
“I want to teach Sofia to swim.”
Andreas smiled. “We’ll do it this summer.”
“She needs to know, Dad, before she gets on a boat.”
“She’ll be fine. She’ll have her own life jacket, just like yours.”
“Life jackets didn’t save the children on television.”
Andreas’ smile disappeared, and he knelt down to his son’s eye level. “What children?”
“The ones in the boats that sank.”
“Where did you see that?” Lila and he had been careful not to watch that sort of news in front of their son, out of concern for the very worry he now saw on his son’s face.
“I told you, on TV.”
Andreas drew in and let out a breath. No reason to cross-examine his son. It could have happened anywhere. A careless night watching a show together in bed thinking him asleep when a breaking news update came on, a television running when no one thought him around, or something he saw at a friend’s house on a play date. It didn’t matter now, the image had fixed in his mind.
“Your sister is safe.”
“I don’t want her to drown.”
Andreas hugged him. “Don’t worry. I won’t let that happen.”
“Promise?”
Andreas swallowed. “Promise.”
Tassaki hugged his father. “I’m doing my duty, Daddy, just like you told me. Protecting our family.”
Andreas smiled and kissed him on the forehead. “Time for your bath. Run along. I’ll be in to read you a story later.”
Tassaki took off like a shot.
How quickly they grow up. He felt proud to hear his son embrace duty to family so passionately. It reminded him of something he’d meant to do earlier. He walked into the living room, picked up the phone, and dialed. He sat on the couch, looking out at the brightly lit Acropolis while waiting for someone to answer.
“Syros Police, Sergeant Tsappas.”
“Sergeant, this is Chief Inspector Andreas Kaldis, and I’m looking to speak to Chief Homicide Investigator Stamatos.”
“He’s away on––”
“Assignment. Yes, Sergeant, I know the official line, but let me put it to you differently. I repeat, this is Chief Inspector Andreas Kaldis, Head of Special Crimes and the former Minister of Public Order. So, whose bad side would you prefer to be on, Tassos’ or mine? And before you answer, please consider that, one way or the other, I’m going to find out what’s going on with my friend.”
A whisper came through the phone. “He’s okay, Chief, honest. He just doesn’t want anyone to know.”
“To know what?”
“Promise you won’t tell him I told you.”
“Sergeant Tsappas––”
“He had a heart incident and has been in the hospital for the past couple of days.”
Andreas’ own heart skipped a beat. “A heart attack?”
“No, they said it wasn’t a heart attack, but he’s going to need surgery.”
“My God,” said Andreas. “What hospital is he in?”
“I—I’m not so sure it’s a good idea to tell you.”
“Just give me the goddamned hospital’s number!” Andreas shouted.
“Uh, Chief, if you call him in the state you’re in now, you might do him a lot more harm than good. He needs to take it easy.”
Andreas shut his eyes. “You’re right, Sergeant. Absolutely right. I’m sorry I yelled. It’s just that he’s like family to me.”
“I know, he speaks the same way about you.”
Andreas held back a tear. “I promise to stay calm. Honest.”
The sergeant gave Andreas the number and five minutes later, after a few more rounds of you-better-let-me-talk-to-him with the hospital operator and various supervisors, the phone rang in Tassos’ room.
“Hello.”
“Hi, buddy,” said Andreas.
“I assumed that sooner or later you’d find me. Sure took you long enough.”
“I’m not as efficient a detective as you.”
“Damn straight.” Tassos coughed.
“How are you feeling?”
“About as you’d expect. Tubes everywhere, lights on all the time, nurses running in and out checking the machines and prodding me. They act as if I’m someone important.”
“If you’d like, I could set them straight about you.”
“Spoken like a true friend.”
“So, what’s on the agenda?”
Tassos paused. “Does Maggie know?”
“Not from me.”
“Promise you won’t tell her.”
“It’s not up to me; that’s your call.” Andreas hesitated, not sure if he should say what he was thinking. “But I have to ask, why don’t you want her to know?”
He could hear Tassos breathing deeply.
“She’s too caring. If she knows there’s something wrong she’d come running.”
“And that’s bad?”
“She’ll feel the need to care for me. I don’t want her to feel responsible for an invalid. It will cripple her life too.”
Andreas felt a rush of anxie
ty. “You’re making it sound very serious.”
“They found two nearly blocked arteries and an aortic valve that has to be replaced.”
“That’s it?”
“Isn’t that enough?”
“Jeez, Tassos, that sort of surgery is done every day. My father-in-law had the same things done at a dozen years older than you, and was up and about in no time.”
“Honest?”
“Listen, my friend, you’ve got to face up to this and realize you’ve got a lot of friends out there willing to pitch in to help you—in ways like bringing you up to speed on what’s really going on in this world beyond chasing bad guys. Your medical knowledge seems stuck back in the days of bloodletting and leeches. All you have to do is ask.”
“Who do you suggest I talk to?”
“If I gave you any name other than Maggie’s in response to that question, I’d be in the bed next to you once she found out.”
“She’ll tell me, ‘I told you so.’”
“And if she’s right, maybe next time you’ll listen.”
“She’ll put me on a diet.”
“Did I just hear you correctly?”
“Okay, the doctor’s already told me I can either lose weight or lose years.”
“Nicely put.”
Tassos paused. “I guess I should call her.”
“All I can tell you is that if you don’t, you’re going to see her anyway, because she told me she’ll be on the first boat tomorrow to Syros.”
Tassos laughed. “If she does that, she’ll kill me for sure…assuming the surgery doesn’t get the job done first, because they’re airlifting me to Athens tomorrow morning. They wanted to stabilize me here before moving me there.”
“You better call her. And let me know where you’ll be. Otherwise, I’ll be in just as deep shit with the love of my life as you’ll be in with yours if you don’t tell her everything ASAP.”
Tassos chuckled. “I got you covered. Thanks for calling. And for that gentle kick in the ass. I better get off and call Maggie before it’s too late. Bye.”
An Aegean April Page 20
