Mykonos After Midnight (3 page)

“When do you expect to make an arrest?”

“No telling. That’s something we’ll have to work through Europol. My guess is the killers are out of Greece by now.”

“Anything for Spiros to tell the press?”

“Not yet. If he does, it will tip-off the killers we’re on to them, and they’ll disappear like smoke.”

“I guess that means I tell him nothing.”

“I leave that to you. But knowing Spiros as we do, and his penchant for kissing the ass of anyone he thinks might help his career, if you told him the whole story he might think it serves his interests better if they’re
never
caught.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” said Andreas.

“There’s a part to this murder that makes the simple solution I just described far more intricate a puzzle than I dare tell you on a mobile phone. Even a supposedly secure one.”

“Jesus, Tassos, you and your dramatics. You’re just trying to get me over to Mykonos to buy you dinner.”

“Andreas, how many times do I have to tell you? ‘We’re cops. We don’t pay.’”

Andreas laughed. “A perfect description of our different approaches to police work.”

“So, are you coming or not?”

“How about tomorrow morning on the first flight? I promised my mother that Lila and I would have dinner with her tonight.”

“And Tassaki?”

“If we didn’t show up with her grandson, I doubt my mother would feed us.”

“Yeah, Maggie said that your mother won’t even let you use a babysitter.”

“I’m glad to hear that my secretary is keeping you up to speed on my personal life.”

“Your secretary is discreet. It’s my girlfriend who talks.”

“Cute.”

Andreas had unknowingly rekindled an old romance between Tassos, a long time widower, and Maggie, Andreas’ secretary and mother superior of Athens’ police headquarters.

“But seriously, my friend, get over here ASAP.”

“Will do. See you tomorrow. Good night.”

Tassos put the phone on the table. He picked up his coffee, took a sip, turned his head, and stared at the crescent of tavernas spread out along the harborfront. He watched a few taverna owners trying to lure passing tourists inside with offers of “very fresh fish, special price.” The enticers were obviously transplants from other places. Mykonians didn’t act that way. They looked down on such pushy practices, considered them contrary to their philosophy that hospitality meant serving, not pressing, your clients. So far, that approach had worked out well for them. Mykonos’ tourist draw was the envy of every island in the Cyclades, if not everywhere in Greece.

He took another sip of coffee and thought about how much the times had changed. The island was still paradise, and the old town never failed to enchant tourists wandering its centuries-old maze of whitewashed two-story buildings aligned every which way along narrow, flagstone alleyways. But paths once used to flee invading pirates now served as playgrounds for village children beneath the watchful gaze of black clad grandmothers chatting away across brightly painted wooden balconies.

A pack of scantily clad college-age girls walked by, toying with the taunts of boys calling out to them from the taverna. Tassos smiled. Maybe times hadn’t changed that much. Just the places. He’d heard locals say that during the hectic summers of Delos’ Third Century BCE heydays as the commercial trading center for the ancient world, Delians would send their wives and children to Mykonos during the hot summers. Not so much to holiday––as many wealthy but busy Athenian husbands and fathers sent them today––but to save them from the advances of thousands of anonymous sailors and traders passing through the island looking for ways to spend their time. Today, the former sanctuary posed the greater threat to virtue than the Delian ruins. A promise that drew even more to the flame.

As with everything in Greece, the history of Mykonos entwined with the gods. Some said the island’s name came from Apollo’s grandson, Mykons. Others claimed it just meant “a pile of rocks” in keeping with the myth that Heracles fought the Giants in aid of Zeus and after defeating them threw the vanquished into the sea where they turned into the massive boulders found scattered around Mykonos.

The first evidence of human inhabitants on Mykonos dated back to 4000 BCE. For most of the ensuing six thousand years, whether the island prospered or not depended primarily on its proximity to the more commercially developed islands of Delos, Syros, and Tinos, and to the foreigners then in control––Carians, Egyptians, Phoenicians, Minoans, Ionians, Athenians, Macedonians, Romans, Venetians, Turks, and Russians, were among those who dominated Mykonos at some point.

Two other significant elements played a part in Mykonos’ development: piracy and plague. Pirates haunted the island virtually from antiquity, so much so that it became home to many, and legend for its able-bodied seamen willing to sail to wherever there might be commerce or battle.

But sea travel brought with it many perils, including plague. As recently as the mid-nineteenth century, plague so badly ravaged the population that those who survived and did not flee to other islands or the mainland were too few to work the fields or take care of the animals. That’s when the Church induced immigrants from islands such as Crete, Naxos, Santorini, and Folegandros to move to Mykonos, offering the promise of a new start for them and the hope of a new beginning for the island.

A flicker of promise appeared after World War I that tourism might take root, but World War II crushed it. The German army’s program of taking everything for themselves and leaving nothing for the occupied people brought devastating famine and death to Mykonians on a scale greater than almost anywhere else in Greece.

After World War II, came war on the mainland between the left and the right, and in the fifties and early sixties a mass exodus of the island’s youth to Athens and far off lands in search of a better life.

Against that six thousand years of struggle it seemed magic that in little more than a single generation Mykonos transformed into its present-day wonder and the long-impoverished Mykonians became among the wealthiest per capita people in Greece.

Tassos took another sip of coffee. The unusually gentle breeze coming off the sea had a lot of people strolling along the wide, blue-grey-brown flagstone border between the tavernas and ten yards of sand to the water. Some came out to smell the sea, most to people-watch, but all to absorb the in-season energy of Mykonos and a sense that, for the moment at least, all was right with the world.

Tassos put down his cup. Good thing they didn’t know what was locked inside the briefcase at his feet.

Chapter Four

When the alarm went off at dawn, Lila mumbled from her pillow, “Is there something you forgot to tell me?”

Andreas hit the snooze button. “Yep, I have to catch the seven-thirty flight to Mykonos.”

“Is it about Christos?”

“I won’t even try figuring out how you knew that.”

“Not hard. It’s all over the news. Make that Spiros is all over the news. And when he’s all over the news can my husband be far behind? After all, someone has to come up with his answers.”

“I knew there was a reason I married you.” He kissed her on the cheek.

“That’s all I get for such glorious praise first thing in the morning? A peck on the cheek?”

“Put it on my account. I’ll settle up later.” He pinched her butt.

Lila sat up. “I’ll have Marietta make you breakfast.” She reached for the phone.

“No time for that. I’ll catch a bite at the airport.”

Lila smiled but dialed. “Marietta, would you please prepare breakfast for Mr. Kaldis. And pack it to go.”

She hung up the phone. “You’re still not used to having help.” She smiled. “I like that about you.”

Andreas nodded. “I’m trying. Yesterday, I let Tassaki pick out my clothes.”

“Letting a two-year-old pull all your shirts out of a dresser drawer is not what I meant.”

Andreas shrugged. “I’m trying.” He leaned over and kissed her. “Now I really have to run.”

“Open the drapes, let in the light. It won’t bother me.”

Andreas picked up the remote control and pressed a button. The drapes parted, revealing narrow, pale-gray horizontal steel slats covering the windows. They were necessary security for virtually every upscale home in Greece, even a penthouse on the most prestigious street in Athens and next door to the presidential palace.

Andreas pressed another button and the shutters rolled up and out of sight as light rushed into the room. An unobstructed view of the Parthenon atop the Acropolis filled the window. This was another thing Andreas had difficulty getting used to: living the life of the super rich. But if he wanted to marry Lila it came with the package. He could not expect her to live a life on what he earned as a cop. Make that an honest cop.

So, this was how he now lived. Not that he resented his good fortune. It was just so very different from his own roots as the son of a working class cop. Another honest cop.

“Do you need a ride to the airport?”

“No thanks, Yianni is picking me up.”

Yianni Kouros was Andreas’ right hand. They met when Yianni was a brash young rookie on Mykonos and Andreas his chief. They’d been together ever since.

“When will you be back?”

“No telling. Tassos wants to see me. Hopefully on an afternoon flight or, at worst, the last boat.”

“Well, at least with Tassos I know you won’t be getting into any trouble.”

“My love, with Tassos there’s generally nothing but trouble.”

“I meant of the
other
kind.” She smiled. “The Mykonos crazy lifestyle sort of trouble.”

Andreas nodded. “Good point. I think I’ll bring Yianni along. He specializes in that sort of thing.”

Andreas managed to get to the bathroom door before Lila’s pillow caught him from behind.

***

Kouros sat in a marked blue and white police car in front of the apartment building.

“Morning, Chief. I see you have breakfast.”

“As a matter of fact
we
do. Lila had it packed for two.” Andreas held up a
spanakopita
as he slid into the passenger’s seat. “A bit heavy for breakfast, but easier to eat in the car than yogurt.”

Kouros pulled away from the curb and reached for the spinach pie. “Any idea what has Tassos so wound up he won’t talk over the phone?”

“Not a clue.” Andreas pulled another
spanakopita
out of the bag and took a bite. He struggled to speak around his chewing. “But whatever it is, it must be serious. Tassos is not an alarmist.”

“Can’t wait to hear what’s on his mind. What time’s your flight back so I can pick you up?”

“Pick me up? You’re coming with me.”

Yianni smiled. “I hoped you’d say that.” He pointed with the
spanakopita
toward the back seat. “I even packed a bag. Just in case.”

“We’re not staying overnight.”

Yianni smiled. “Better safe that sorry.”

Andreas took another bite. “Damn it, I should have packed a bag. But if I had, Lila would have thought I actually intended to stay over.”

“We bachelors always plan ahead. You do remember those days, don’t you?”

“Detective Kouros, just get us to the airport.”

***

Andreas spent most of the flight reading the report Tassos had faxed to Kouros covering what he’d come up with so far in the investigation. The rest of the time Andreas stared out the window at a deep blue sea, white-edge waves, and beige-brown islands flecked with green and white.

Mykonos lay ninety miles southeast of Athens and less than thirty minutes away by plane, or two hours and fifteen minutes by high-speed catamaran. Approximately one and a half times the size of the island of Manhattan, it had a population of ten thousand year-round citizens that swelled to fifty thousand during tourist season.

The island differed greatly in season from its agrarian and seafaring roots. In summers Mykonos drew a monied crowd relatively immune to the worldwide financial crisis. And, for the most part, Mykonians put aside their way of life during those months as they braced for a tsunami of rich and super rich from around the world, joined by hordes of poseurs, flocking to their island on holiday.

Mykonos also served as a cruise boat mecca, drawing day-trippers to tourist shops and coffee at the port. But it wasn’t the rich or the cruise boats that Mykonos relied upon to support its many hotels, shops, bars, restaurants, and clubs. For those, the island looked to sun worshipers drawn by the island’s dozens of breathtaking beaches and partiers chasing after its world famous 24/7 action.

Yes, serious cultural reasons also drew visitors to Mykonos, most notably the intensely spiritual holy island of Delos. There one could walk amid restored, millennia-old ruins of the once thriving center of ancient Cycladic life. But one had to get up early to catch a boat to Delos because the last boat back to Mykonos was at three in the afternoon, and that sort of early morning pilgrimage rarely worked for the late night partier, no matter how sincere intentions might have been when falling asleep at dawn.

Tassos stood on the airport tarmac just outside the terminal’s arrivals door. He held a briefcase but managed to exchange embraces with his friends.

Andreas pointed at the briefcase. “Never knew you to carry one of those.”

“Follow me,” was all Tassos said. He led them inside the terminal, through the baggage claim area, and past a doorway to the right leading out of the building.

“Where are we going?” said Kouros.

“I’ll tell you when we get there.”

At the south end of the terminal building they took a flight of stairs up to the second floor and stopped at a door marked OFFICE OF DIRECTOR OF AIRPORT OPERATIONS.

“In here.” Tassos opened the door and waited for Andreas and Kouros to go inside. He pulled the door shut behind him and locked it.

“My friend said we could use his office. He won’t be back for an hour. He’s having coffee in the harbor with his cronies.”

Tassos put the briefcase on top of a desk, walked to a line of windows overlooking the runway, and closed the blinds.

Andreas and Kouros stood in front of the desk watching Tassos.

“What’s with all the mystery?” said Andreas. “The police station is only a hundred yards away. We could have met there.”

Tassos walked back to the desk. “You’ll understand when you see what’s in here.” He tinkered with a combination, popped the locks, lifted the lid, and spun the case around so the two could see what was inside.

“It’s the contents of Christos’ second safe. The one I didn’t mention in my report.”

***

Anna woke wishing she hadn’t. The celebration of the night before had turned nasty. Sergey insisted on getting drunk and that everyone join in. Then he had sex with her. In front of the other two men. She knew where things were headed, and tried to get out of the apartment as soon as Sergey finished. But the two men grabbed her at the door and brought her back to the bed.

She didn’t struggle. She remembered what they did to Christos. They hurt her, but other men had done much worse.

Sergey did nothing to stop them. He sat on a chair by the table drinking his vodka, watching it all. By far
that
was the worst thing any man had ever done to her.

She tried rolling off the bed, but the two men were asleep on either side of her. She pushed herself by her elbows toward the foot of the bed. One of the men grabbed her arm. She smacked his hand and cursed him. He let her go and she quickly slid off the bed and onto her feet.

She felt throbbing, burning pain everywhere down there and feared what diseases those sick bastards might have given her. She stared at Sergey sleeping with his head on the table.

And you let them do it to me
. She staggered to the bathroom and turned on the water to fill the tub. She prayed for a bit of hot water.

She wondered how she could have been so stupid. How she’d wrecked her chance to get away from scum like this. She stepped into the tub. It was soapy from the residue of past baths never scrubbed clean. But the water was warm. “Thank you, God,” she said quietly to herself.

She sat down and lay back in the tub, watching the water spill out onto her toes and creep up along the sides of her thighs to above the places of pain and onto her belly. It had reached her chin when the door opened.

“Good morning, my love.” Sergey was naked. “What a glorious party.” He aimed his penis at the toilet bowel and began to piss. “And it would have been nothing without you.”

“You miserable piece of shit. How could you let them rape me?”

“Rape? But I thought you were enjoying yourself so. I know how much you like making love to other men, so I thought why not let our colleagues enjoy you as well.”

What she wanted to say wouldn’t come out.

“Besides, those poor men have not been with a woman in a very long time, possibly never with one as beautiful as you. And it was the least we could do for all the generous help they’ve given us.”

“
We!
Those degenerate bastards raped me.”

“But, my darling, you are my girlfriend.” He bent his head forward, shook it vigorously from side to side, and jerked it back up, causing his hair to fall to the sides of his face. “I also suffered watching those men violate you. I, too, sacrificed—have you no compassion for what I endured?”

She stared at him, the water now up to her lips. She tried to speak but choked on the water. She sat up and turned off the faucets.

Sergey shook his dick, turned, and sat on the edge of the tub. He stroked her hair.

“Perhaps, if you hadn’t become so close and special to Christos I would not have let that happen. But you did, and so what was the harm in letting them enjoy you too?”

“What are you talking about? I came back to you.”

He nodded. “I know and appreciate that. For without your return I never would have learned of the glorious opportunity awaiting us on Mykonos. A chance for a new beginning.”

“And for that you let them fuck me! That’s how you show your thanks?”

He shrugged. “But it would have been such a waste not to let them enjoy you.”

She started to speak, but he put a finger to her lips. “Shhh, let me explain, my love.”

He took his finger away and went back to stroking her hair. “Christos would never give up his club. No matter how much money he was offered. Many had tried. It was his life. And no one could rival him. Not because others didn’t know how, but because they would never get permission to do so. Christos owned everyone in government whose approval was necessary to open a place, and not even the largest bribe could shake his grip.” He squeezed a fistful of her hair as if to emphasize his words. She winced and he opened his hand.

“There was nothing in the harbor of Mykonos to seriously compete with Christos’ place, and as long as he lived, there never would be. Certainly not any by us.”

“Why do you say that? You never even met the man. You have no idea how he might have reacted if you’d bothered to ask instead of sending those…those beasts of yours. That was your plan all along, wasn’t it? To kill him.”

Sergey shook his head. “My love, I know how powerful men behave. How they must behave to remain powerful. I intend to be such a man on Mykonos. One other men fear. There cannot be two such men in the same place. It is against the natural order of things.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I had a lot of time to think in prison, having so few visitors. And––”

“I couldn’t come and you knew that.”

Sergey put his finger to his lips. “Shhh, yes, yes, my darling. As I was saying, and I often wondered about opportunities outside of Poland and our poor Balkan neighbors for one willing and prepared to do what must be done to seize them.”

He smiled. “And as if fate were eavesdropping on my thoughts, you showed up on my very first day out of prison bearing a golden goose.”

“But Christos is dead. How are you going to get what you needed from him now?”

“His influence died with him, and now it is up to the strongest to step in and take advantage of the vacuum.”

“The locals will fill it. They’ll never let you in.”

“No need for you to worry. Christos and his club are no longer relevant. There are better opportunities, and with the right connections and arrangements, the golden goose will be ours.”

“But I can’t go back to Mykonos. Not after the murder.”

Sergey shook his head. “I know. It is a shame. And, as I said, a great waste.” He leaned in, kissed Anna hard on the lips, and pulled back. He ran his fingers lightly along her wet skin down to her breasts, cupped them in his hands and squeezed the nipples. “Yes, yes, yes…a terrible waste.”