Tank touched his eyes with the thumb and forefinger of his right hand, as if holding back tears.
“Almost a week has passed since I lost my sister.” He swallowed. “We shall never spend another day together in our beloved Greece.”
He pressed at his eyes again. “She died because the police did not care. She died because the minister of public order did not care. She died because the prime minister did not care.
“When big foreign money is in play, our government is indifferent over who gets hurt, as long as those that matter get their share. My sister stood up to all of that, and now she’s dead. A bullet through her forehead from a foreign assassin. But it was our government that held the gun.
“Why is it the police have done nothing to catch her killer? They must know who is behind it? I do. It is no secret.
“Our country has no place for mafia types. That is neither our culture nor our history. We need a fair playing field for our honest businessmen and it is up to our government to provide one.
“I am calling on the prime minister in the name of my sister to destroy the vicious foreign criminal element behind her murder.”
He reached inside his jacket pocket, pulled out several sheets of paper, and held them up to the camera. “Here are the names and addresses of those who terrorize us, some of whom, I’m sorry to say, are working in complicity with our countrymen.”
He waved the list. “These are the ruthless gangsters responsible for the murder of my sister. Mr. Prime Minister, if you really care about making Greece a better place for the honest to do business, now is your chance to prove it. I’m giving you these names, unafraid of what retribution those named might seek against me for pulling them out from beneath their rocks.”
He dropped his hand and stared straight into the camera. “And if you ignore this list, I promise you that every day I shall publicly ask you, ‘Why?’ And pray for the people of Greece to join me in holding you accountable.”
Fade to black.
***
“That was a nice crisp three minutes of television,” said Kouros from the couch in Andreas’ office.
“He looked quite sincere,” said Maggie.
“Just goes to show you how gullible humans can be.” Andreas looked at his watch. “Any bets?”
“Within five seconds,” said Maggie.
Kouros said, “Fifteen—”
Andreas’ desk phone rang. Andreas looked at the number. “Maggie wins.” He hit the speakerphone button. “Hello, Spiros.”
“I’m dead. The prime minister will kill me. I’m dead.”
“Relax, you’re not dead yet.” Andreas grimaced at their unintended references to Spiros’ mortality.
“I’m not sure he’ll even give me the remaining eighteen hours on my deadline to solve the case.”
“He said to ‘break it wide open.’ Not solve it,” said Andreas.
“What’s the difference?”
“Solving means nailing the killer. No one on that list will get us to the killer. I’d bet my pension on it.”
“Why don’t you bet something that’s worthwhile, so that we know you’re convinced?”
“Who said that?” asked Spiros.
“Detective Kouros.”
“Oh.”
Andreas and Kouros braced for a harangue about taking the situation seriously. None came.
“Then who’s on the list?” said Spiros.
“I don’t know. Not the real killer or anything likely to lead us to him, that’s for sure. That would be suicide for Tank.” Andreas paused for a moment, wondering if he should say more. He decided not to. “How long until you can get us the list?”
“I assume I’ll get it the moment the prime minister does and you’ll get it a minute later.”
“Great. Tell him it’s the break we’ve been waiting for.”
“You just said it won’t likely help.”
“Not to solve the case, but as I said, it might be what we need to break things wide open.”
“How’s that?” asked Spiros.
“No need to get everyone’s hopes up until I’ve seen the list.”
“No one’s hopes but the prime minister’s?” said Spiros.
“Right,” said Andreas. “I’m just trying to buy you some breathing room,” said Andreas.
“I won’t need much in a casket.”
Andreas cringed. “Let’s just pray we get lucky.”
“I’m already doing that,” said Spiros.
“Good. Let me go, I want to get things organized just in case the list is the break we’re looking for.”
“Enough with the drama already. Just save my ass.”
Andreas hit mute on the speakerphone, “That sounds more like him.” He hit mute again. “We’ll do our best. Bye.”
“Bye.”
Andreas checked to make sure the phone was off. “I still can’t believe it’s him.”
“A brush with mortality can change a man,” said Maggie.
“So can unemployment,” said Kouros. “Something we’re all likely facing in eighteen hours. How are we going to break this case by tomorrow morning?”
“As I said, it all depends on the list.”
“And like the minister said, enough with the drama. Just tell me what the hell you’re thinking,” said Kouros.
“In a minute. Maggie, get Petro in here right away, and scramble every precinct in Athens and Thessaloniki to have men ready for a major operation beginning in,” Andreas looked at his watch, “eight hours. And alert the tax guys too.”
“They’re not going to listen to us,” said Maggie.
“Tell them it’s under a direct order from the prime minister.”
“How can we say that?”
“Who’s going to question you? Besides, the list is coming from the prime minister, so how can we not consider it his direct order that we go after everyone on it?”
Maggie nodded and headed toward the door. “Suicide takes many forms.”
“Thanks for the sign of confidence.”
“Any time.” Maggie opened the door and left.
“But why are we alerting half the police in Greece over what could be a very short list?” asked Kouros.
“If the names on Tank’s list are what I think, it’s our chance to blow up his entire operation.”
“And is there a name for this magic you plan on using to turn Tank’s list into his demise?”
Andreas smiled. “Nuts and bolts, my boy. Just good, old, basic, boring, nuts and bolts police work.”
Chapter Nineteen
Tank lay in bed switching between television channels covering his press conference. He was the central subject of conversation on all the network news shows; old faces, old ideas, old agendas all screaming at one another trying to make points with a public fed up at hearing them. But in this case the talking heads were all in agreement: Tank had scored a winning goal. He’d punched the sitting government in the eye by playing to the Greeks’ natural propensity for seeing a conspiracy in the number of raisins in a cereal box, and for assuming their government was in cahoots with monied bad guys. Best of all, he’d successfully portrayed his own politically powerful and suspect family as part of Greece’s victimized suffering masses.
All day he’d been receiving congratulatory calls from politicians of every party. Even members of the prime minister’s own party called playing up to him. Hedging their bets, no doubt, with elections on the horizon. This was not a time for party loyalty, but for tending to your own ambitions. Politics stood as practically the only surefire way of making money in Greece these days, even for the honest. It was a matter of self-preservation.
Tank was in heaven. It was the greatest moment of his life. He was no longer his family’s black sheep bad boy, but a cunning politician, as good as any o
f his cousins, or brother. Too bad his sister had to die, but her sacrifice made all this possible. He’d erect a statue to her. Yes, a grand statue.
He smiled as he listened to another commentator rave on about how “Tank’s List,” as the press had come to call it, would help “rid Greece of a great curse.” It certainly would. It would finish off his Athens and Thessaloniki competitors in the counterfeit alcohol business. Every single one of them was on that list. Names and locations.
He laughed out loud at the brilliance of his ploy. At the image of the Greek police wiping out his biggest competition without touching a hair on his head. His demonstration of true Greek ingenuity at work would impress even Teacher. The arrogant bitch. Daring to speak to him as if he were a child. He wished he could be there to see her face when she learned of his masterstroke. He wouldn’t be surprised if after this she asked him to participate in all her European operations. Of course, he’d only agree if she made him an equal partner.
His mobile rang. Probably another congratulatory call. He didn’t recognize the number. He looked at the time. It was after two in the morning. He took the call.
“Whoever this is, why are you calling me at this hour?”
“Tank.”
“Xenophon? I didn’t recognize your number.”
“It’s not my phone. I left it in the warehouse when I went out the back window.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
“The police are raiding everywhere. Not just our competitors, they’re hitting us too. Knocking out our warehouses, production facilities, distributers, even our customers.”
“Did you say ‘us’?”
“Yes, US.”
“But how could they? I only gave them information on our competitors.”
“I have no idea, but they’re busting up everything, and by that I mean our entire illegal operation. Tax authorities are with them shutting down our retail outlets in Athens and Thessaloniki, padlocking clubs and discos, and putting customers out on the streets.”
“That can’t be happening.” Tank’s voice cracked.
“Look, I don’t know what the fuck went wrong. But we’re out of the counterfeit business and a hell of a lot of people tied into our operation see your little play on TV today as wiping them out. They think you’ve snapped, decided to become a hero good guy, and they want you dead.”
“But I didn’t turn them in. You know that.”
“Yes, I know, but I’m not about to tell any of them that. At least not now. They’re angry enough to kill anybody they think was in on this with you, and I’m not saying anything to anyone that might get them thinking that way about me. I’m calling you just to warn you to hide out until the smoke clears. There’s talk among our own people about taking you out tonight, before you can do them any more harm. Whoever did this set you up magnificently. The cops had a list of every place tied into our operation. Someone really wanted to fuck you. Someone really—”
Tank shut off the phone. He didn’t want to hear any more. He had to think. He had to think. He had to—
I have to get out of here.
***
At precisely ten the next morning, all Greek television networks interrupted their regularly scheduled programing for an announcement from Minster of Public Order Spiros Renatis.
“Ladies and gentlemen, good morning. It is with enormous pride in the Greek people that I speak to you today. Yesterday you heard one of our countrymen speak of the tragic death of his sister, and call upon his government to bring those responsible for her death to justice.
“I am pleased to tell you that last night, in daring raids across much of mainland Greece, your government did just that.”
Spiros cleared his throat. “But we could not have done it without her brother’s help. The prime minister and all of us in your nation’s police force share your desire to make our country a better and safer place, free of the criminal element corrupting our democracy. But as in so many situations, unless members of the community are willing to come forward and identify those who prey on them and their neighbors, we have no way of knowing whom to go after.
“Yes, I know many of you think police are all-knowing, but we are not. We need your cooperation in order to help you.
“All of Greece is by now familiar with what is called ‘Tank’s List.’ Thanks to that list, last night we struck a mortal blow to a deadly, nationwide, counterfeit liquor business lying at the very heart of one of Greece’s largest, clandestine, criminal enterprises.
“That list has done a great service for Greece, and shines as an example to our countrymen of what a single individual can do to better our country, our neighborhoods, ourselves. Police will do their job if you identify those robbing you, corrupting your politicians, and stealing your tax dollars out of your pocket. And you can do all of this anonymously. Simply send us your own Tank’s List of names and addresses, and we’ll take it from there.
“Your policemen and women could not have done what we did last night without Tank’s List. Having said that, and at the risk of sounding ungrateful, I do have one other slight favor to ask of its author.
“We are amazed at your grasp of those engaged in Greece’s illegal alcohol trade. With your help we’ve closed much of it down in Athens and Thessaloniki. But as I’m certain you know, during tourist season there is significant counterfeit alcohol activity taking place in the islands and elsewhere. Your country would greatly appreciate your providing us with a similar list of persons and places engaged in those criminal acts in those places. I assure you we’ll act on that information the moment we receive it.
“We look forward to your helping us again, and once more, thank you—” Spiros coughed as he pronounced Tank’s name. He left the podium, taking no questions.
Andreas jumped out of bed fully dressed, and pumped his fist in the air in front of the television. “Fantastic, beautiful, perfect.”
“How come you never say those things after we make love?” said Lila from the bed.
“Because you always leave me speechless.” He thrust his fist in the air again. “Spiros left Tank drawn and quartered. The bastard has no place to run.”
“Except home to daddy.”
“Not sure that will help him with all the people pissed at him after this.”
“The rich always find a way to take care of themselves.”
“But at a price.”
“Yes. For sure.” Lila patted the bed. “Why don’t you come back to bed? You’ve been out all night.”
“It’s been a night of sheer joy.” He glanced at Lila. “I mean professional joy.”
Lila smiled, “I knew what you meant. Were you in the office all night?”
“Yes. Yianni, Petro, and I stayed on the phones making sure the local cops did what we’d told them to do, even if it meant crossing serious bad guys who’d been paying them for protection.”
“How’d you manage that?”
“By scaring the shit out of them and their bosses if they didn’t do what we said.”
“And it worked?”
“A couple wiseass chiefs told us to ‘fuck off,’ so we had to get Spiros to tell them they’d best not report to work in the morning if they didn’t do what they were told that night.”
“Spiros was in your office?”
Andreas gestured no. “Up all night at his home. He seemed even more excited than we were. He’d met his forty-eight-hour deadline. We’d saved his ass.”
Lila frowned. “But he didn’t mention you once in his announcement. I didn’t like that.”
“He did exactly as I’d asked. I didn’t want my name near this story. We had to make it look like it was all Tank’s doing in bringing down his competitors and his own operation.” He smiled. “No brilliant police work involved this time.” There was another reason for keeping his name out of the story, but not
one he wanted to share with his pregnant wife. He didn’t want his name appearing on Teacher’s radar screen.
“Still, it was you who guessed Tank would only put his competitors on his list, and came up with the idea of adding on Tank’s places and people from what Yianni and Petro had compiled on his operation.”
“Yes, but it was the obvious play for someone like Tank to try. He thinks of himself as smarter than everyone else in the world.”
“But not smarter than my husband.”
Andreas offered a modest shrug. “It also served as an object lesson to Yianni and Petro that boring, basic police work sometimes pays off in unexpected ways.”
“From the way Spiros choked simply saying Tank’s name, you must have had a hard time convincing him to give Tank so much credit.”
“Not ‘so much,’ but all the credit. Yes, he hated the idea, but he came around to seeing it as the only way of ruining Tank with his bad guy business associates. Then Spiros thought up the idea of turning the whole episode into a how-to commercial on helping your local police to help you, and he was off and running on working up his speech.”
“Who thought to have Spiros ask Tank to turn over a list of bad guys operating in other places, like the islands?”
Andreas smiled. “You liked that idea, huh? It was mine. I figured if you wanted to turn Greeks against Tank, just get them to thinking he’s going to shut down their summertime cheap booze fun at their favorite vacation spots. Greeks who think their hangouts might be selling untaxed booze and bomba aren’t going to take kindly to anyone trying to close them down.”
“Ah, yes, the modern Greek’s motto: ‘I hate corruption except when it benefits me.’”
“Cynic.” Andreas stood by the edge of the bed.
“What do you think Tank will do now?”
“If he’s smart, disappear. This morning, a lot of very dangerous people are very angry with him, and with Spiros pitching him for a list of more names and locations, quite a few of them will do just about anything to make sure he doesn’t get the chance to turn in that list.”
“You mean like have him killed?”
Andreas nodded.
Devil of Delphi: A Chief Inspector Andreas Kaldis Mystery Page 17
