Kjersti's gentle emphasis enabled all four to regroup. Stephane's assertion about the Archbishop and offering protection, which might no longer be around, had confused them.
"We'll go to the kitchen. More coffee?"
"Yes, please. Don't be long. I might go for a walk and not come back," Stephane teased.
It had its effect, though he was only too aware he'd nowhere to go which would provide the indemnity he craved.
In the kitchen, Kjersti, Aris and Iphi conferred. They agreed, Aris with reluctance, that the story had the potential to become bigger than just the Russians and gambling with money laundering. Iphi asked.
"Are we not going to follow up about Christodoulou?"
"You and Aris will. I'll take the lead about the Church. Maybe we can formulate two stories and leave you clear of direct Church involvement."
The relief from Aris and Iphi was overt. Kjersti considered a gentle prod, and decided against it.
"Shall we go back?"
Aris and Kjersti carried their own coffees. They left Iphi to bring hers and the one for Stephane. Kjersti restarted the questions.
"What did you mean about the Archbishop?"
"He's on his way out. Dying. I'm not sure of what, though he looks old. But there is an unexplained, to me, urgency. On two fronts. The dedication ceremony, which he is intent on masterminding and where Eleni has concentrated much of her time. Plus closing the SinCard franchise deal. It's as if the old boy knows his time is up. He rushes to complete."
These revelations introduced a deeper consternation in Stephane's listeners. Their note taking ceased. At different levels, they cycled through possible ramifications. Kjersti recovered first.
"SinCards?"
"You may not have heard of them, but you will. According to Eleni, buying and replenishing your confessional SinCard is how you will contribute to the Church so it can pay off the loans to build Nea Hagia Sophia."
"Has this anything to do with Inma?"
"Why her? Not that she mentioned when we had dinner."
Kjersti mused. Davide. Inma. The Vatican? Davide had once mentioned the HolyPhone. She'd not known what he was talking about, so she'd looked it up to find it was a mechanism for extracting contributions to the Catholic Church via confession. Could there be an extra connection? She knew Davide's original meeting with Inma involved Rome. She shrugged. Both were in Nicosia. She'd ask.
In her own silence, Iphi talked. Kjersti listened.
"You say the Archbishop is dying?"
"That is the implication. All Eleni's recent activities, when not focused on the Kampanarió, have involved ceremony design. When I last saw the Archbishop, he didn't look well. I have to repeat: when he dies I lose my protection."
Iphi was about to follow up when Aris cut across her line of questioning.
"The third person in the photo I showed you. You don't know who he is?"
"I've no idea, though I think I've seen him before. Once, in Limassol, leaving the company offices. Do you know who he is?"
"His name is Tassos Christodoulou."
"Means nothing to me."
"He is a property developer with a nasty reputation, which includes beating up prostitutes as part of his pleasures."
Iphi squawked. Aris hadn't told her this, though her own editor had alluded to unpleasant proclivities. Aris was much more specific.
"More relevant is his chairmanship of this Bank."
Stephane leaned forward. It was his turn to display surprise.
"Thalassa was the name of the Cyprus financial institution where the sports betting held its accounts. It was often where the proceeds of winning bets ended up. It smelled suspicious to me. I could never find anything out about it. It's private-owned and the website was in Greek and Russian. No English. Not abnormal, but unusual not to have all three here."
It was the turn of Aris to become pensive. As he cogitated about the Bank and Christodoulou and Dmitriy and sports betting and money laundering, Kjersti phoned Davide. Could she meet him this evening? His answer was it could only be this evening. He and Inma had reservations to leave tomorrow. Their assignment complete, they would fly via Athens back to Madrid.
"It seems your girlfriend departs."
Stephane looked blank. He had no clue as to what Kjersti was talking about.
"Inma has booked to travel tomorrow, with Davide. I'm going to have dinner with him later, to talk about the SinCards, though he doesn't know. So back to the Bank and Christodoulou. Iphi, you've been quiet. Summarise what we have."
Iphi dawdled. She did not like Kjersti thrusting her into the spotlight. She chafed at Stephane's mean, if ignorant, sideswipe at her and Aris.
"As I see it, we have the story of Dmitriy establishing an illegal gambling/money-laundering operation in Limassol which he closes but carries on running from the Kristina as it circles offshore in the Black Sea or off Cyprus. We have a connection between Dmitriy's operation and Christodoulou, as in the photo, and to the Bank. By the way, Dmitriy Avakian is an ex-director of the Bank, according to its Greek language website. The Bank completes the legitimisation of, we presume, illicit Russian-sourced funds."
"That is an understatement." Stephane delivered this commentary in an acid aside. All nodded. Iphi restarted.
"What puzzles me is whether the Bank has links to the Church and, if so, what does this suggest? We have the photo of Christodoulou and the Archbishop, but that could be innocent. They may be friends. We also have the SinCard dimension. I don't know where this fits. Then there is the Church connection to the Constantinou father and daughter, at least in part explicable because of Nea Hagia Sophia. Finally, there is Stephane's revelation, if true, that the Archbishop is on his last legs. Few will care, except Stephane of course."
Stephane wheezed at her sarcasm. He'd never imagined he might be the last person to wish the Archbishop well. Iphi had a point. He could charm her. Where would that lead? He switched to listen to Aris.
"I think we have a complete story about Dmitriy and the sports betting. That's good enough for me. We should leave it there and avoid any Church connections."
To her own surprise, Iphi spoke against Aris. Kjersti applauded.
"We don't have everything. We need one or two more pieces and we might possess a bigger story, with both Church and Russians."
"'Might' is the operative word. Where will we find your link?"
"By digging? Patience, like you showed with your photos. Kjersti and Davide? We can't give up yet?"
Her phone vibrated. She'd put it on silent. She answered and listened.
"I have to leave. That call might bring us more. No, I'm saying nothing now. "
Nicosia (Cyprus)
Davide waited for Kjersti. He would rather have dinner with Inma alone. It was their last night in Nicosia. Like her, he was ready to depart. It might be the opportunity to talk to her about Ana in an atmosphere not too seeded by Spanish preconceptions, his and hers.
He had made his mind up. Ana was a dead end. It might not have been if tio Toño hadn't collapsed at the very moment tio Toño had insisted upon: his visit to Ana's finca. Irony upon irony.
Kjersti burst into the room. It was the same bar as the other evening, in the hotel. He savoured the way she moved. There was a gazelle-like grace. Her whole body flowed through the furniture. She was an outlier. Tough as tungsten nails, had been Inma's laconic digest.
They greeted each other and for some moments tripped through the polite enquiries of no interest to either. Davide left it to her to take the lead. He scolded himself. That was normal. He could almost hear tio Toño's ironic clapping from on high.
"Tell me about SinCards."
"What sort?"
Kjersti was incredulous. This wasn't the response she anticipated. "Explain."
"There are two sorts. No, not wholly accurate. There is one sort in use already and another about to arrive."
"Okay? What's the difference?"
"As far as I know the Vatican cooked up
the original SinCard as a method to make it easier to contribute to its coffers. In essence, believers buy a card and deposit money on this. After confession over the HolyPhone, they make their contribution by selecting an amount to give, by entering the card number..."
"Don't tell me, and entering their PIN."
"You understand. It's more for use in countries where people don't have credit cards but know how to top up their mobile phones. It works pretty well."
"How do you know?"
"All I can say is I've done some work with the Vatican."
"With Inma?"
"Not exactly."
"What does that signify?"
"I can't tell you. Confidentiality. By the way, neither can she though the reason is different."
He diverted Kjersti down the ex-Opus Dei route. Davide hoped a rehash of what he thought Kjersti knew would divert her. He was fortunate. It worked.
"What about the other sort?"
"I don't know what I can tell you."
"The Church of Cyprus is on the point of introducing these?"
"That is a reasonable presumption."
"To raise money?"
"Yes."
"To pay off loans obtained to build Nea Hagia Sophia."
Davide ducked his head. She knew more than he thought possible.
"By any chance, is Thalassa involved?"
He maintained silence. This would be to confirm too much.
"Your reticence is as good as corroboration."
Davide's discomfort increased.
"What about a Tassos Christodoulou? Or a Dmitriy Avakian"
Davide did not react.
Disappointment edged into Kjersti. Where could she go from now?
"Is there a link beyond the Nea Hagia Sophia loans between the Church and the bank?"
"All I know is I provided input about how the Vatican SinCards worked. My conjecture is the Church of Cyprus wishes to introduce a similar scheme."
Kjersti heard a sigh from behind. She whipped round to find Inma standing there. It was clear she'd listened to all that Davide had said. This would be the end. Though she and Inma had cooperated on the way to Madrid to Davide's uncle's memorial service, they were unnatural partners. Opposites, and Inma had more than one axe to grind.
Kjersti's shoulders sagged.
Even if Davide continued with an offer of dinner she couldn't bear it. Doubly not if Inma joined them to gloat over her inability to obtain what she sought.
"Tell her the truth, Davide."
Davide remained quiet.
He watched.
Inma sat down between Davide and Kjersti.
"If he won't, I will. My conscience troubles me."
"What conscience?" sparked Kjersti.
"You mean, because I am ex-Opus, I can't have one?"
Inma's instant ferocity crashed over Kjersti. Inma had taken offence. And Inma had reason.
Kjersti apologised.
"I never thought to hear that from you!"
"You mean Kjersti can't have a conscience? Now it's you playing games, Inma. Either tell her or keep your peace."
Davide's voice was so quiet Kjersti almost did not hear him.
Inma jerked at the rebuke.
"I never thought to hear that accusation either. I'm sorry, Kjersti. You have that effect on me."
"It's mutual."
Though the words were harsh, their antagonism abated. Kjersti didn't dare speculate about what might happen next. She focused on what Inma was saying.
"I do have a guilty conscience. I don't like what the Church of Cyprus plans. It is about to rape its congregation in the way governments rape their populations with lotteries.
"I agree with you, about lotteries."
"You do?"
Inma's surprise was evident. She carried on.
"It intends to raise money to repay the loans from the Thalassa which are funding the completion of Nea Hagia Sophia. The Church will franchise a SinCard operation to a consortium headed by a man called Christodoulou. I believe he is the chairman of Thalassa though this is not an overt part of the franchise. There is a Russian connection, via another member of the consortium. His name is never mentioned. The SinCards will be proclaimed tomorrow or the day after or it might be next week."
Kjersti whooped internally. It was all here, if Inma offered enough.
"What was your part?"
"I'm ashamed to say I made suggestions and recommendations about how to market the SinCards for maximum revenue. Playing on the guilt of others. The plan is to use betting shops and hairdressers and corner stores to sell SinCard top-ups. I offered refinements as well as the main marketing messages."
Davide intervened to give Inma a break. Her distress was apparent.
"Why are you asking these questions?"
"Can you keep a confidence? Of course you can. I'm being half-witted."
Kjersti conducted them on a brief tour of all her, Iphi and Aris's activities and conclusions. Davide and Inma were sceptical until she added details they recognised, especially that the Russian was Dmitriy Avakian.
Inma surprised both Davide and Kjersti.
"Shall we have dinner here? It's not wonderful. There is more to share and I want to hear what you plan to do with what my conscience compels me to reveal. Though I can probably guess!"
Nicosia (Cyprus)
Eleni drove her father to Tower 25. She parked nearby, but not underneath. She wasn't looking forward to this dinner. Its focus was to be the dedication ceremony.
Her father warned her, as they rode up in the elevator. She should not exhibit too much shock when she saw her uncle's condition.
Nikos greeted them. According to him, they would eat on the terrace. His Beatitude spent most of his waking time there. He could not tear his sight from Nea Hagia Sophia, his pleasure enhanced by the news that Istanbul's original might revert to the mosque it had been for the four and a half centuries before Mustafa Kemal Ataturk mandated it become a religion-neutral museum.
Eleni controlled her face. The Archbishop, never physically imposing, was skeletal. She sensed that under his ryasa, there was little left.
"You did well, Vasilia."
"What do you mean, Uncle?"
"I watched you on TV. You must explain about the sabotage. Your interview and your closing comments were perfect. Tuned to the preservation of the Church's reputation. Xerxes did well too. His chest distracted. What happened?"
Eleni led him through the mercury find. She explained the chemical consequences when exposed to aluminium and the steps she was engaged in to verify once and for all there was no ongoing threat. Her uncle clucked his congratulations as she recounted the reunion with Xerxes around the dome and how she'd persuaded him to appear with her to distract the reporters.
"I can't forget your words. They were perfect. How did they go? Something like: 'If it was someone demented, why would the Church want to prosecute? Charity and forgiveness are the hallmarks of the Archbishop and of the Church of Cyprus'. Your mastery of the unctuous should make you a Bishop."
Her father's cheeks creased at his brother's happiness. She couldn't enjoy the approbation. If anything, her stomach turned. To her relief, Nikos served the food.
"Isn't she magnificent?"
Her uncle referred to Nea Hagia Sophia as if it was a ship. Unusual. It was his choice.
"You have both accomplished something remarkable. When Vasilios took me inside, and most of all to the synthronon with your motorised throne, it pleased me beyond measure. All I can do is praise your brilliance. Inside, she is superb and will improve as the decoration arrives. I didn't see the galleries. I hope to do so. The Sanctuary is everything I could have desired."
Vasilios and Eleni bobbed their heads in appreciation. It did not stop him.
"As for the Kampanarió I like it better every day. Now that the sides facing here have the sandstone panels, the Kampanarió lights up, almost glows in the evening sun. It's glorious.
"Best of all is Omega."<
br />
As Ioannis said this, a single boom, on the half hour, rumbled across the city. A minute later a distant echo. The Pentadaktylos replied.
"I wanted to diminish Mohamed. Omega does this every hour. You have executed my heart's intentions. I am unable to thank either of you enough."
"Uncle, I have a request before we discuss the dedication ceremony."
Eleni described the coffee house and the owner's complaints about the disruption caused during the erection of the Basilica to people living close by and to local businesses. She recommended her uncle invite all affected in the Old Town to celebrate with him at the dedication.
As she feared, her uncle resisted. When Eleni phrased it as a deed worthy of a great Archbishop like himself, he acquiesced. Eleni felt ill for a second time.
The Archbishop did not notice her discomfort. The next hour flew by in a torrent of details about who should process where and the priorities. There was less about the splendour of the dedication and more about the social niceties and the seating and the invitation design.
Without a hint of warning, the Archbishop crumpled. Not in body, but in energy, or lack of it. It was clear to Vasilios and Eleni he couldn't continue. They began their farewells.
As they were doing so, Alpha, Beta and Gamma sang. Vasilios and Eleni halted to appreciate the resonance. High up in Tower 25, the impression was different to being at ground level. Omega started. Eleven thunderous 'bongs' breached the evening air.
This time any response from the Pentadaktylos was drowned by three 'crumps', the dull thuds of explosions. The Archbishop, Vasilios and Eleni questioned each other.
Before any could reply, the Archbishop raised a wizened hand and pointed. Behind the Kampanarió, a flash of flame appeared. It died. It roared back, sailing high above the louvres of Omega's hanging position. Twenty or thirty metres above the Kampanarió it climbed. Then died again.
The next sounds were of emergency vehicles. Fire truck, police and ambulances wailed their way across Nicosia to enter the Old Town.
Vasilios and Eleni uprooted themselves. They ran for the elevator. They left Ioannis shocked, and speechless.
"Should we take the car, father?"
"No point. We won't get there any faster than on foot."
Resurrection (The Corruption Series Book 4) Page 35
