Mykonos After Midnight (21 page)

“Good luck with that. Hard to imagine any real money-making idea involving tourists that hasn’t been thought of before by someone on this island.”

“I wonder if that’s what Sergey has in mind?” said Kouros.

“Like I said, ‘hard to imagine,’ but who knows?”

“I wonder if he’s upstairs. It didn’t sound like anyone was in his room.”

Andreas shrugged. “We were just as careful not to talk in our room. No reason to risk him being able to hear us.”

“Do you think he knows we’re in the next room?”

“After all the trouble we went through making that scene with the clerk? I damn well hope so. My guess is the clerk called him while we were on our way up to the room.”

“Do you think the clerk told him about your conversation with Lefteris?”

“Not sure, but that’s why we’re waiting for Lefteris here, where everyone can see us. Including him.” Andreas nodded in the direction of Sergey’s room without looking up. “I want the cocky bastard to know we’re coming for him.”

“Speaking of bastards, look who’s heading toward the hotel.”

Andreas turned his head.
“Wacki!”

Wacki jumped and swung in the direction of the voice. He forced a smile and went back to walking toward the hotel.

“Come here!” shouted Andreas.

“I can’t.”

“You damn well better or else I’ll come over there and drag your sorry ass back here.”

Guests at several tables began squirming in their chairs.

Wacki stopped, turned, and walked over to Andreas’ table. “Why are you hassling me?”

Andreas pointed at a chair across from him. “Sit.”

Wacki did. He glanced over his shoulder up toward Sergey’s room.

“Don’t worry, if he’s not up there watching I’m sure someone will tell him about our little meeting.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Andreas smiled and patted Wacki on the shoulder. “This little meeting. And if he is watching, I want him to know we’re the best of friends.”

Wacki didn’t move.

“Speaking of the best of friends, I know you heard about what happened to Tassos.”

Wacki nodded. “Yes. I’m sorry.”

“I just bet you are,” growled Kouros.

“And I assume you heard who did it?” said Andreas.

Wacki didn’t move.

“Funny thing. Guess what they were after.”

Wacki shrugged.

Andreas patted Wacki’s cheek with his right hand. “The very same thing your boss wanted from him. Small world isn’t it?”

Andreas patted Wacki’s knee. “And it gets even smaller. Everyone we nailed on Stapodia was from Mykonos. Hard-asses. The kind only someone with deep connections into the dark side of this island would know.”

Andreas leaned forward. “I wonder who that someone could be?”

Wacki looked away.

Andreas waited until they were eye to eye. “How long have you been working for Teacher?”

Wacki’s eyes widened for an instant. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Andreas leaned back. “What you know or don’t know doesn’t matter a rat’s ass to me as long as
I
know. I hear Teacher’s not a forgiving employer. How are the health and pension benefits?”

Wacki’s left eye began to twitch.

“No matter. With how badly you and your buddies fucked things up, my guess is you won’t be in need of either much longer.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Andreas smiled. “Of course you don’t. But as I said before, what you know or don’t know doesn’t matter. All that matters is that Teacher knows you’re a fuck-up.”

Wacki scratched his cheek and looked away.

“Now run along.”

Andreas stood and waved to a man walking toward him across the lawn. “Lefteris, my friend. Good to see you. Please, join us. We have much to talk about.”

Andreas stared at Wacki. “Like I said, ‘run along.’”

Andreas watched Wacki walk away. As he reached the lobby door Wacki looked back over his shoulder at Andreas. Andreas immediately smiled, waved, and blew him a kiss.

Wacki hurried inside, looking straight ahead.

***

Wacki knocked on the door.

“Come in.”

Sergey stood at the window holding back the curtain and looking out.

“Hi, boss.”

“What was that all about?”

“You mean Kaldis?”

Sergey didn’t respond or move from the window.

“He wanted me to know he thinks you and I were involved in the Stamatos kidnapping. He said the kidnappers were after the same thing you wanted and that everyone involved came from Mykonos.”

“What did you say?”

“I didn’t know what he was talking about.”

“Anything else?”

Wacki forced himself to keep looking at the back of Sergey’s head. “No.”

“Are you sure?”

Wacki knew that question would come. He’d gone over his answer a dozen times on his walk up to the room. Teacher had made it abundantly clear that absolutely no one but Sergey and he were to know of her connection to the project. If Wacki told Sergey of Kaldis’ suspicions there was no doubt Sergey would tell Teacher in a way that would end badly for Wacki. If anyone would be the bearer of bad news to Teacher it would be Wacki. But not now, he needed time to think.

“Yes, I’m sure. But I did hear him say to Lefteris that they had a lot of things to talk about.”

“What sorts of things?”

“He didn’t say. He told me to leave.”

Sergey dropped the curtain. “He’s bluffing. He knows nothing. He’s just trying to frighten us into making a mistake by getting in our faces.”

Sergey turned and walked toward Wacki. He rested his forearms on Wacki’s shoulders and stared into his eyes. “But we won’t make any mistakes, will we?”

Wacki held Sergey’s stare. “No, boss. We won’t.”

Sergey held the stare then patted Wacki on his shoulders.

“Good. As long as we do not panic we have nothing to fear.”

“What about his conversation with Lefteris?”

Sergey shrugged. “What of it? Lefteris is like you. He knows nothing of my plans. He has nothing to tell him.”

Chapter Twenty-eight

“What was that all about?” said Lefteris sitting down and waving for a waiter.

“We were just discussing mutual acquaintances,” said Andreas.

“If they’re ‘mutual’ with Wacki, my guess is they’re guys you put away.” He waved again at the waiter. “Or ought to.”

“We’ll see what we can do about that,” said Andreas. “But for now I just want to talk about the hotel.”

“What about it?”

The waiter came running. Andreas waited until Lefteris ordered for everyone and the waiter had left.

“Why do you think Sergey is buying it?”

“Because he wants to be in the hotel business. Why else?”

“That’s my question.”

“But what other reason could there be? He can’t sell the property. All he’s permitted to do is what the lease allows.”

“Does it make sense to you that a foreigner like Sergey is willing to pay so much just to operate a hotel?”

“I’m not interested in making sense out of what’s going through someone’s mind who wants to give me a lot of money.”

“Indulge my curiosity. We both know that no matter what you’re actually making running this place as a hotel, on and off the books, the price he’s paying can’t be justified.”

“I pay every cent of my taxes.”

“Yes, I’m sure. Then if I were you I’d be straining my brain for justification to the tax authorities as to why a stranger to the hotel business is buying a lease on a hotel whose total profit over the past five years is less than a single year’s bank interest on the purchase price.”

“You seem to know a lot about the deal.”

“I’m a national hero, remember. People tell me things. Besides, that memorandum of understanding you signed with Sergey and submitted to the ministry of tourism disclosed the purchase price and the bank accounts of your friend Sergey that will make you a very rich man.”

“So what do you want me to do, guess?”

“Go for it.”

Lefteris shrugged. “Fine, I’m always up for party games. How about turning it into a house of prostitution? The lease doesn’t permit it, but at times it seems that way anyway. Then again, on this island the paying clientele would be limited.” He smiled.

“Maybe a high-end house?” said Kouros.

“You guys are serious about this, aren’t you? Okay, from my experience here’s my bottom line opinion on a high-end prostitution operation. Classy hookers working this kind of high-roller destination would end up turning it into a wedding chapel for old farts and young tarts.”

Andreas laughed. “Catchy phrase.”

“Mottos for businesses. It’s my gift. My favorite was, ‘Don’t fret, get wet, lay a bet.’”

“What level of whorehouse was that supposed to be?” said Kouros.

“No, wise-ass, it was my motto for turning this place into a seaside casino.”

“A casino?” said Andreas.

“Yeah, I had the idea twenty years ago, when the ministry of finance was still giving out casino licenses. I even negotiated a modification to the lease with the ministry of tourism that would allow the place to operate as a casino if I ever got the license.”

“What happened?”

“The ministry of finance stopped issuing licenses. All you can do these days is buy an existing one, but you can’t move it to a different location. Once you have the license it’s regulated by the ministry of tourism, but my friends there can’t help me with getting one for Mykonos. That’s all in the hands of the ministry of finance and brutal politics.”

“What sort of politics?”

“Many kinds, but the most obvious is that the nine casinos already out there don’t want more competition. And certainly not of the sort Mykonos could bring to the table. Can you imagine what a casino would do for Mykonos? It would turn the place into the Las Vegas of the Mediterranean.”

“And that’s a good thing?” said Kouros.

Andreas rubbed his forehead. “Don’t you think the island has gone about as far off in the ‘nightlife direction’ as the Mykonians can take?”

“Maybe, but it has only profited the handful of locals who control it. Look, I love this place as much as any Mykonian. I grew up here and raised my family here. But I’m a realist. There is no going back to the old days. None. All we can do is try to protect the future, make things fairer so that no longer will one man get rich and another go to jail for doing exactly the same thing just because one has connections and the other does not.

“If we’d commit as a community to turning our island into a worldwide entertainment destination, a Las Vegas on the sea, it would become a year-round tourist attraction, and not just a place for partying kids in the summer.”

Lefteris turned his hands palms up and shrugged. “But none of that is ever going to happen. Even an ex-prime minister couldn’t get a license for a casino on Mykonos. The big boys here have all the juice and the big boys elsewhere don’t want Mykonos to have a casino. And you don’t have to look very hard to see how nasty some of them are willing to play.”

“You mean like casino employees jumping out of windows in what are called ‘suicides’?” said Kouros.

“You got it. Those boys play for keeps. So, unless you’re prepared to play by their rules, stay away.”

“Sounds like good advice,” said Kouros.

“It’s the same advice as I gave Christos.”

Andreas leaned in. “Christos Vasilakis?”

Lefteris nodded. “He came to me about a year ago. He remembered that I’d negotiated a lease modification to operate the hotel as a casino and wanted to know if I’d be willing to go partners with him if he could get a license from the ministry of finance.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing. I said no. I’m not a fool. Christos and I were friends since he came to the island. The only way he’d be able to pull that off would be by squeezing some very serious balls. I wanted no part of that sort of aggravation at this point in my life. Besides, I took it more as a big show for his
putana
girlfriend.”

Andreas cleared his throat. “She was
with
Christos when he talked to you about getting a license to turn the hotel into a casino?”

Lefteris nodded. “Tits and all.”

Don’t fret, get wet, lay a bet.

***

Andreas and Kouros walked along the harborfront. It was filled with tourists speaking every language but Greek. Still, the two men spoke quietly, just in case Greek might be a second language for some.

“Son of a bitch. He’s planning to go into the casino business,” said Kouros.

Andreas nodded. “It all fits. Ties everything together. Christos planned on using his files to extort a license for a casino on Mykonos. The girlfriend passed the idea on to Sergey, he went to Teacher for financing, and here we are. Two bodies later and Sergey’s on the verge of bringing Russian gangsterism to Mykonos.”

“As tough as Greek bad boys like to think they are, the Russians will chew them up. Wholly different rules. No one, not a child, mother, you name it, is off limits.”

“And once here, they’ll want a piece of everything they can get their hands on,” said Andreas. “Those big clubs with bullet-proof rooms for protecting all that cash they generate each night will need tanks to hold off the Russians.”

“Las Vegas may not be a bad comparison for the way Mykonos could end up. I hear it’s surrounded by desert filled with never-to-be-discovered bodies. Mykonos has the Aegean.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t go that way.”

“What’s to stop it? If all it takes is money to do whatever you want, those with the most get to call the shots,” said Kouros.

Andreas put his arm around Kouros’ shoulder. “If you’re right, there’s nothing you or I can do to affect the end of that story; it’s all up to the Mykonians. But there is something you and I can do about one miserable motherfucker named Sergey.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Not quite sure yet, it’s percolating, but whatever it is will require us back in Athens. Time to head home.”

“Before lunch?”

Andreas smiled. “Who’s buying?”

“Spiros.”

“Good, I know the perfect place.”

***

Sergey watched the two cops leave the hotel gardens and walk along the road toward town. He’d sent Wacki away ten minutes before.

He clenched the curtain in his fist as he stared out the window. All that rat-faced fool ever wanted to do was gossip. He couldn’t be trusted. He knew Wacki was aching to see him fail. It was the nature of his kind. Sergey couldn’t risk involving Wacki or any of his people again in anything serious. They were useless. He must return to using those he could rely upon to do as they were told.

Sergey unclenched his fist, stepped back from the curtain, and looked at the phone.

He wondered if he should ask Teacher to find the two men he’d told to disappear? The fates knew he was wrong before. Yes, that’s why they didn’t allow him to find and eliminate them. The fates looked after him. They always did.

***

Teacher hung up the phone. Sergey seemed so cheerful. Was he mad or just trying to please her? He said, “All is going well,” “Right on schedule,” “Nothing to worry about,” “The license will be ours soon.”

Such confidence.

But then came the real reason for his call. He wanted her to find the killers of Christos, to bring them to Athens. She thought he would want them eliminated. But he said, “No.” Surely he knew the risk in their returning to Greece.

It spoke of desperation. That was not good. Desperation led to misjudgments.

A misjudgment at this moment could be fatal. No gambling meant no international money crowd. The sex, the drugs, the party atmosphere would not be enough to draw them away from other places offering the same. They needed the magic of a casino to bring it all together.

She clenched her fist. Without that casino license her plans were ruined. She would be trapped in this life for the rest of her days.

She looked at the photograph of the young girl on her desk and relaxed her hand.

Am I desperate? Have I misjudged?

***

Halfway to Ano Mera, just beyond the island’s garbage dump and overlooking the wind and kite surfers’ Shangri-la of Ftelia Bay, sat what many Mykonians viewed as the most blatant example of how far their island had gone in the wrong direction: A strip club with signage leaving nothing to the imagination about what was available inside for a price.

“I still don’t understand how that place stays open,” said Kouros.

“Of course you do.”

“Okay, but how do they get away with putting up signs like that on an island with fourteen hundred churches?”

“Maybe that’s why there are so many churches. There’s a lot of sinning to atone for going on in places like that.”

Kouros laughed. “Where are we headed?”

“My favorite place. Fokos Beach.”

“Great. I haven’t been there in years. Could use a trip back to old Mykonos after all this dark side shit we’ve been putting up with.”

“Aha, the true danger of a cop’s life. We see the worst and wonder if there is any better.”

A few minutes later they entered Ano Mera and took the second left, just before a tiny square. They followed a paved road that narrowed down to barely a lane and a half as it wove between borders of old low and new high stone walls. Beyond the walls, beige-brown fields and pastures ran off in all directions toward hills of still different shades of brown, peppered everywhere with tiny white churches, old homes, and new construction.

After about a mile the road turned to dirt, widened to two lanes, and ran north along a valley floor beside a mile-long rainwater reservoir. The valley’s brown-gray hillsides were veined with old stone walls and filled with wild rosemary, savory, thyme, and goats. The only signs of man were power lines along the road and a modern windmill perched on a hilltop off to the east, generating power to operate the reservoir.

Anywhere but on an Aegean island one would marvel at the deep blue of the man-made lake, but on Mykonos it literally paled in comparison to the sea.

“The natural beauty of this island is extraordinary.”

Andreas nodded.

The road made a wide arc to the right, and just before turning sharply left Andreas slowed by a man and boy fishing in the water.

“Nice of you not to coat them with dust from the road.”

“I didn’t want you to miss this.”

As Andreas made the swing to the left the far end of the reservoir came into view.

“What the hell?”

Andreas didn’t have to ask what had caught Kouros’ attention. “That’s about what I thought you’d say when I heard you hadn’t been out here for a while.”

Hovering above the end of the reservoir, as if devouring the hillsides beneath them, loomed a mass of white villas.

“How could somebody so screw up such a beautiful place? Damn them,” said Kouros.

“I think they already are damned. Last I heard not a single one’s been sold, and the asking price has been reduced by two-thirds.”

“Serves them right.”

The end of the reservoir stood seventy-five feet above sea level. Beyond it the road dropped steeply down toward a wide, sandy cove and a taverna of natural stone set fifty yards back from the sea at the widest part of the beach. The cove was edged distally in black- and rust-color stone and framed by virgin brown hillsides, azure blue waters, and brilliant Aegean skies.

It was a picture postcard vision that magazines and moviemakers often used to present the paradise known as Mykonos to the world.
Sans
villas. And where locals and longtime fans of Mykonos escaped to remember how very beautiful their island could be.

They parked beside the broad stone steps leading up to the taverna’s outside terrace. They’d barely made it up the steps when the owner recognized Andreas and dragged both of them over to his table. He had his grill man cooking octopus, calamari, and fish, his wife turning out zucchini pie,
moussaka
, and more types of salads than Andreas could imagine, and his daughter pouring wine until Andreas had to threaten to arrest the entire family if they didn’t stop.

In other words it was a terrific time.