An Aegean April

by Jeffrey Siger

  “Bye.” Andreas drew in and let out a deep breath as he hung up the phone.

  “Nicely done.”

  Andreas spun his head around to see Lila standing by the doorway.

  “You heard?”

  “With you screaming at the top of your lungs, how could I resist finding out what had you so worked up. I assume that was Tassos. Is he okay?”

  “I hope so. It sounds like he’s going in for a cardiac catheterization on two arteries and a valve replacement.”

  “Like my father.”

  “That’s what I told him. I think his head’s in a better place now.”

  Lila walked over and sat down next to him. “Promise me, Andreas, that you’d never keep any bad health news from me.”

  “Why would I ever do that?”

  “Because certain macho men types have problems along that line.”

  Andreas patted her thigh “Don’t worry. I don’t have that hang-up. I know that someday that sort of bad news will come––if we’re lucky. Otherwise it’s just one big bye-bye-world moment.”

  She waved her hand. “No need to overdo it with the reassurances. I just wanted you to understand that I took the ‘in sickness and in health vow’ very seriously.”

  “But what about the ‘obey’ part?”

  “I must have been day-dreaming and missed it.”

  Andreas smiled. “There’s something I should tell you.”

  Lila crossed herself. “Don’t you dare make a joke about your health. It’s not funny.”

  “No, it’s nothing like that. Tassaki knows about refugee children drowning. I don’t know how he knows, but he does.”

  “Is he frightened?”

  “No, just worried for Sofia. He wants us to teach her to swim.”

  Lila squeezed Andreas’ hand. “I guess it’s a good sign when a five-year-old learns about the dark side of life and thinks only of how best to protect his sister.”

  Andreas smiled. “Good point. I hadn’t thought of it quite that way.”

  “Daddy,” came echoing down the hall.

  “Like father like son,” said Lila. “He’s developing a very robust scream.”

  “It’s storytelling time.” Andreas stood up. He reached out his hand for Lila’s. “Let’s do it together.”

  Lila stood. “I’d like that.

  Andreas kissed her on the cheek. “It’s all about family.”

  She patted him on the butt. “And, if we’re lucky, friends like you.”

  l l l l l

  Aryan went to bed alone that night. He had no desire to be with anyone. Nor did he sleep.

  How could they know his true name? Where had he fucked up? He’d spent half the night running through every conceivable source. He had no fingerprints or DNA on record. At least none that he knew of, and he’d changed his appearance. It could be someone who knew him after the plastic surgery. He compiled a list in his mind of every possible betrayer. He would have to deal with each one. He couldn’t afford for this to happen again. But that would have to wait. The urgent problem was here.

  He paused. No, not here. On Lesvos. It must be tied into that woman who spoke to the press. Everything flowed from that press conference. She’d drawn worldwide attention to his work on Lesvos, and someone, some enemy somewhere, could have recognized the swordplay and revealed his name. But who would dare? Again, he could trust no one.

  He tossed in bed. He had to be careful. His knee-jerk reaction to grab the Lesvos woman and force her to tell who might know his true identity wouldn’t work. He’d done interrogations that way many times before in many different situations, but then he’d worked anonymously in the fog of war, with no one caring what he did. Things were different now. Too many here would like to see him disposed of by the police. That would conveniently end his threat to their interests.

  Killing an American always came with risks, but killing an American aid worker from an organization that had just seen another of its members murdered on the same island would inevitably generate relentless pressure on the police to find her killer. He needed to find a more subtle approach, one that ended her life before she publicly revealed his name to the world, yet satisfied the police without drawing him into the mix.

  Yes, he needed to plan much more carefully.

  l l l l l

  Lila and Andreas spent a few hours on Saturday and Sunday visiting with Tassos and Maggie at the hospital. Yianni stopped by each day and, together, they watched Maggie dote on Tassos while he faked that he minded the attention. Maggie said she wouldn’t be back at work, “until this is all straightened out,” but that she’d arranged for a friend to cover for her.

  Andreas told her not to worry.

  “I have to worry,” she said. “I’m a Greek woman.”

  Other than that, the weekend had passed as peacefully as the calm before a storm.

  l l l l l

  Andreas was headed out the door to lunch with Yianni when his office phone rang.

  “It’s the Mytilini police commander,” said Maggie’s friend. “Shall I tell him you’re at lunch?”

  He gestured no and pointed at Yianni. “I’ll spend the whole time listening to him speculating on what the commander has to tell me. Put it through.”

  He walked back to his office, followed by Yianni, and reached across his desk to put the call on speakerphone. “Hi, you caught me just as Yianni and I were headed out. What’s up?”

  “We’ve got a strange development in the Volandes case. Make that bizarre development.”

  Andreas dropped into one of the chairs in front of his desk. “Is it good bizarre or bad?”

  “Depends on who you talk to. The prosecutor has agreed to release Ali.”

  “That sounds good,” said Yianni.

  “For Ali,” said the commander.

  “Why’s he letting him out?” said Andreas.

  “According to the prosecutor’s forensic supervisor, who also happens to be my daughter’s boss, the evidence doesn’t support a case against Ali.”

  “So he’s come around to agreeing that Ali isn’t the killer?” said Yianni.

  “Not exactly,” said the commander. “He’s saying the evidence won’t make it a slam-dunk conviction, which to this prosecutor makes it a no-go prosecution.”

  “I thought you said the forensic supervisor does whatever it takes to get that prosecutor convictions,” said Andreas.

  “And on this investigation he went out of its way to set Ali up to take the fall,” added Yianni.

  “Yes to both points,” said the commander. “Which is precisely what makes this development so bizarre. First thing this morning, the forensic supervisor had a letter delivered to the prosecutor’s office stating that his department’s report was riddled with errors and faulty observations, making it impossible to rely upon it in any prosecution. In other words, bye-bye physical evidence.”

  “Wow, that’s quite a screw-up to own up to,” said Yianni.

  “Don’t start admiring him. The only blame he admitted to was entrusting my daughter to know what she was doing, claiming the professional disaster was all her fault. Well, not quite all her fault because he did go out of his way in his letter to write––and I quote––‘Her techniques typify the same absence of attention to readily observable details as features so prominently in her father’s many botched investigations,’ end quote.”

  “How nice of him to give you credit,” said Andreas.

  “Yes, I can’t wait to find his car illegally parked.”

  “That’s quite a serious charge. How’s your daughter taking it?” said Yianni.

  “She’s laughing.”

  “What?” said Andreas.

  The commander told him how his daughter had given in to her boss’ demand that she blindly sign his report, but did so using the words, “
I disagree” as her signature.

  Andreas laughed. “That’s quick thinking. How long do you think it will be until someone picks up on that?”

  “If someone does, it won’t affect Ali’s release because the forensic supervisor has admitted the facts are wrong, regardless of who recorded them. As for my daughter, she’s out of there anyway, as soon as she finds a new job, and if either her boss or the prosecutor tries pushing this any further against her, whether they know the truth or not about the report, at the appropriate moment I’ll shove that report up their asses. Sideways.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” said Yianni.

  “But why do you think the supervisor decided to do this, since we know his reason is bullshit?” asked Andreas.

  Yianni said, “Maybe he was worried about the observations in the report coming out at trial as phony, and he didn’t want to risk the public humiliation?”

  “My vote,” said the commander, “is any explanation that involves putting profit in his pocket or covering up one of his many past transgressions.”

  “I see you hold him in high regard,” said Andreas.

  “You have no idea. And I’m not talking about calling a suicide an accidental death so that some tortured soul can be buried in consecrated ground. I’m talking about finding the most outrageous practitioners of unsafe, illegal procedures as ‘not at fault’ for horrendous outcomes. As I see it, he relishes every disaster requiring his involvement as a potential profit opportunity.”

  “Like mass drownings at sea?” asked Yianni.

  “You get my point.”

  “With what came out at that press conference, Ali’s going to have a target on his back,” said Andreas.

  “I know.”

  “So, when do you let him out?”

  “I can’t do that until I officially hear from the prosecutor. My guess is that won’t happen until tomorrow.”

  “If you haven’t heard from the prosecutor, how do you know what you just told us?” asked Andreas.

  “From my daughter. Her boss had the memo typed up this morning before his secretary got in, and the one who did the typing was my niece. She smuggled my daughter a copy.”

  “Quite a loyal office he runs.”

  “That’s a reason to hire your own relatives. Unless you have any more questions, gentlemen, I’ve told you all I know.”

  “Thanks. Catch you later. Bye.” Andreas didn’t move from his chair, just stared at the speaker until he heard the commander hang up. “Something’s not right here. I feel it in my bones.”

  “Me too,” said Yianni.

  “Too quick a reversal on the prosecution without any justifiable new reason.”

  “At least none we know of.”

  “There’s some other story playing out here, Yianni, and I don’t see a happy ending in it for Ali.”

  “So, what do we do?”

  “Call the McLaughlin woman and see what she knows about this.”

  “But what about protecting Ali?”

  “Yes,” said Andreas. “Alert immigration on Lesvos to be on the lookout for Aryan trying to get back on the island.”

  “You mean Alban Kennel?”

  “I have no idea what name he’ll be using. Send them his photo. That’s likely all we’ll have to go on.”

  “Do you think he’d try to come to Lesvos through an official point of entry?”

  “It’s all we can hope for.”

  “But why would he come back?”

  “That’s something I hope we never get an answer to.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m afraid it will involve more dead bodies.”

  l l l l l

  Dana looked at the number ringing on her mobile. An Athens number. She recognized it as that of the detective she’d spoken to before. She knew what he must be calling about. Aleka had called her an hour before with the news about Ali. Aleka said she’d told her father. He must have told the Athens cops. Now they were calling her. At least they were thinking of her.

  Dana’s big question to Aleka had been why the sudden change of mind? Aleka gave no answer, just told her to meet her in an hour at a taverna down by the old harbor. A bit dramatic, Dana thought, but then again, her entire life had turned into a BBC murder mystery, albeit set on an Aegean island.

  Dana arrived in the old harbor at the end of Ermou Street precisely on time, but she’d forgotten in which of the half-dozen tavernas lined up across the road from their open-air, summertime seaside venues she was supposed to meet Aleka. So, she went from taverna to taverna until she found her sitting at a table in the rear of the one with the least number of windows open to the street.

  “I take it from where you chose to sit that you don’t want to be seen with me,” said Dana smiling as she sat down.

  “Not sure which of us benefits more from that, but I figured it wouldn’t hurt to be cautious.”

  “Cautious of what?”

  “Of whatever the hell is going on in my office,” said Aleka. “Look, I’m a cop’s kid, I grew up surrounded by paranoid thinkers, I get all of that. But something’s not right about this lock-him-up, now let-him-go scenario. Since day one my boss has been wound up to get your friend Ali tried for the murder of Mihalis Volandes. Now he’s suddenly all fired up for letting him go. I don’t get the sudden change of heart.”

  “Guilty conscience?” shrugged Dana.

  “Not a chance. I know Ali’s your friend and you want him out, but something’s wrong about this.”

  “You think someone wants him out to get at him?”

  “If by ‘get at him’ you mean kill him….” Aleka shrugged.

  “I’ve heard this scenario before. From your father and the Athens cop.”

  Aleka forced a smile. “Is that your way of saying there’s nothing more for us to do about his fate?”

  Dana raised her hands in a gesture of surrender. “Whoa, I’m not criticizing you, just letting you know that you’re not the only one who feels that way.”

  Aleka let out a breath. “Sorry. I’m just tired of too many on this island seeing bad endings as inevitable.”

  “Well, I’m certainly not one of them.”

  Aleka waved for the waiter, and Dana ordered a coffee.

  Aleka let out a deep breath. “I realize I’m edgy at times. It gets me to wondering how long it will take for me—make that everyone on my island—to recover our footing. The media talks about how refugees are affected by experiences so far beyond the scope of any rational coping mechanism. What about us? We’ve seen too much, experienced too much.”

  Aleka shook her head. “I’ve watched folks on Lesvos who’d once praised their neighbors’ efforts at helping refugees––and basked in our island’s nomination for the Nobel Peace Prize because of those efforts––turn angry at those same neighbors, even boycott their businesses, arguing they shared in the blame many now cast upon the refugees for the island’s struggling economy.”

  Aleka took a sip of her coffee. “We’ve changed. My generation, for sure…dead babies on the beach, armies of desperate people trekking across our island begging for help, good people helping, others taking advantage, most refugees considerate, others criminal, the media making a show, the government setting up internment camps, international celebrities showing up for photo ops.” She threw up her hands. “Why am I telling you all this? You know it as well as I do.”

  Dana leaned across the table and patted Aleka’s arm. “It’s not just your island that’s affected. We who come to help are conflicted too, sometimes by people whose motives most see as saintly. For example, we get volunteers who come here on their school breaks wanting to help the refugees. How can you fault them? Yet, what they too often do is force us to assign full-time workers to train them, and just when they’re able to function on their own as a true on-the-ground benefit to our e
fforts, they’re off and back to school.”

  “That must be very frustrating for your people.”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s one of the reasons Ali didn’t mind being in jail. It’s Easter break, and a big-time draw for refugee tourism.”

  “Ouch, that’s a rather harsh phrase for describing people trying to help,” said Aleka.

  “Not nearly as harsh as the feelings I hold for media types who flock to refugee centers looking for a ‘new take’ on the same story.” Dana flashed finger quotes. “They seek out the refugee with the most horrific, heartbreaking story, thinking that their brilliant reporting will help the desperate refugee gain assistance. So, they get the poor soul to rip off the scab once more, get the story, and then disappear, never to be heard from again.”

  Aleka nodded. “All of which brings us around to why I asked for you to meet me here.”

  Dana sat up. “That sounds intriguing.”

  “I think you should call another press conference.”

  “What?”

  Aleka nodded. “You heard me. This time to announce a vast conspiracy aimed at concealing the true circumstances of the murder of Mihalis Volandes.”

  Dana stared at her. “Well, so much for my thinking you’re a parrot for law enforcement’s official line. They’ve all been telling me to lay low and keep my mouth shut.”

  “I know, but with what happened this morning I don’t see that as the way to go.”

  “You mean the decision to release Ali?”

  Aleka nodded. “Like I said, it makes no sense to me. Not only does it run counter to everything my boss has been doing to get Ali convicted, it galvanizes the press into wondering who might be the real killer. In unexpectedly releasing Ali, they’ve gone ahead and stirred up the hornets’ nest they’d been working so very hard at keeping under control.”

  “Who are they?”

  “I wish I knew. But letting this play out the way my boss and whoever else is trying to re-position things, strikes me as definitely the wrong way to go.”