Target: Tinos (2 page)

Chapter Two

Athens General Police Headquarters, better known as GADA, was across the street from the stadium of one of Greece’s two most popular soccer teams, down the block from Greece’s Supreme Court, and next to a major hospital. In one way or another, what happened in that neighborhood affected virtually all of the more than five million people who lived in Athens. But at the moment Andreas faced only one Athenian. His boss had surprised him with a mountain-coming-to-Mohammed sort of visit. That usually meant he was in desperate need of Andreas’ help.

Andreas wore that glazed look so often seen on those waiting for a politician to get to the point.

“At least that nastiness in Tinos is resolved,” said Spiros.

He’d regained Andreas’ attention. “You solved the murders?”

Spiros jerked his head up in the Greek gesture for no. “They’ll never be solved. You know how blood feuds are among
tsigani
. No one talks to outsiders. Besides, as long as they keep the killing to themselves…” he shrugged.

The
tsigani
were notorious for many things and victimized for far more. They were the objects of Nazi extermination efforts in World War II and a conundrum to the European Union today. Andreas knew that the behavior of a very few had irreparably branded the image of the many, but a solution for that sort of bigotry was not in his hands. He had to accept the reality caused by the few and deal with it.

“Is that what Odysseus thought happened?”

“Tinos police are no longer in charge of the investigation.”

“Why is that?”

“It doesn’t matter. And their chief is now officially on vacation for two weeks.”

“What do you want from me?”

“I want you to close the case.”

“And how do you propose I do that?”

“By stating the obvious. They were clan-motivated
tsigani
revenge killings and those who were behind it have fled Greece.”

“You’re the minister, you can close it.” Fat chance of that, thought Andreas. Spiros never put his neck on the line; he always wanted someone to blame if things went wrong. Odysseus must have passed on being his fall guy and I’m his runner-up choice.

“The case is dead, Andreas, and no one cares any more. Let’s just officially end it.”

To Andreas that translated as the victims weren’t anyone who mattered and lacked relatives with political or media clout, so press interest in their murders had evaporated.

“Sorry, Spiros, but Tinos is not within my jurisdiction.”

Anger flashed across Spiros’ face but he did not raise his voice. “We both know you have jurisdiction across Greece for something like this.”

“Yes, but only if it’s a matter of national concern or potential corruption. Don’t you think the press might start to wonder why GADA’s Chief of Special Crimes made a special appearance to take a case away from local police only to announce that it’s closed?”

Spiros paused a few seconds and cleared his throat. “Perhaps I wasn’t making myself clear. I’m not asking for you to take personal responsibility, I just thought you might be able to use your influence with your friend to convince him to help us out with this.”

I guess we’re on to fall guy candidate number three. “What friend?”

“Tassos Stamatos. As chief homicide investigator for the Cyclades, Tinos falls within his jurisdiction and what we’re asking him to do isn’t something he hasn’t done before.”

“I can give you his mobile number it you don’t have it. I’m sure he’ll take your call. After all, you are his boss.”

Spiros forced a smile. “I think that suggestion might be better received coming from you.”

Andreas couldn’t argue with that. Andreas and Tassos met when Andreas was police chief on Mykonos, another Cycladic island, and they’d become fast friends with similar views on many things, including the abilities and ways of their minister. But Spiros had even less leverage with Tassos than he did with Andreas because Tassos was well beyond retirement age and possessed secrets and connections from both sides of the law that guaranteed him lifetime job security for as long as he wanted.

“I would owe him a big time favor. I’d owe you both,” said Spiros.

They would be lost on your mountain of other IOUs, thought Andreas. “Perhaps if you told me what has you so wound up about this case I might be able to help you out. We both know the story is dead in the press.”

“I’m not concerned with what the press thinks.”

Andreas smiled.

“At least not the Greek press. And it’s not just me who’s worried. It’s my boss.”

“Are you trying to tell me that the Prime Minister wants the investigation closed?”

Spiros rubbed his chin. “It’s about the money.”

“Come again?”

“There are serious people in the E.U. looking for any justification for ending financial aid to Greece. So far the arguments against us are purely financial. That we don’t work hard enough, we’re corrupt, we don’t want to pay taxes. You know the routine. And although you may not think it, that’s a problem for those who are willing to let us go under, because more people in the E.U. are sympathetic to us than against us. It’s a person-to-person thing. They feel the Greek people are being made to suffer by the E.U.’s big boys in an effort to deflect attention away from their own banks’ fiscal mistakes. We don’t want to do anything that might give our enemies different ammunition.”

“What sort of ammunition?”

“The worst, the hypocritical kind. I don’t have to tell you how every country in Europe has its own sort of immigrant issues. Ethnic stereotypes are a convenient, irresistible scapegoat for political failings, especially in hard times, and no one wants to be the first to point a serious finger at another country’s shortcomings in dealing with its immigrants.

“But our adversaries would love to switch the focus of the debate from our country’s financial problems to our national character. Paint us as indifferent to the plight of non-Greeks, an intolerant place where only Greeks are treated as deserving of protection, and all others be damned. It’s a volatile, irrational, and emotional argument but one that could turn world opinion against us if it found traction in the press. And then it would no longer be just a question of denying us further bailout funds, but whether or not to drum us out of the E.U.”

“With all due respect, Spiros, it sounds a bit dramatic to say that the murder of two
tsigani
on a relatively unknown island to non-Greeks could be the cause of getting us kicked out of the E.U.”

Spiros shrugged. “Our Prime Minister sees it as a risk and that’s good enough for me. Psychos running around the Greek countryside incinerating
tsigani
play right into the hands of those who want Greece to fail. And the longer this case remains open the greater the chance of some foreign reporter seeing glory in a story that shocks the world into action against us by linking Greece to words like ‘intolerance’ and ‘genocide.’ We cannot allow that to happen.”

Spiros seemed quite satisfied with his speech.

Andreas said, “Don’t you think the first thing to do is find out whether there actually are psychos running around out there? And if so, put an end to them.”

Spiros faced tightened. “There is no time for that. If the foreign press runs with that sort of story there will be no way to put the genie back in the bottle. We’ll be tarred forever. Besides, the only logical explanation for what happened is
tsigani
killing
tsigani
. I’m sure Tassos will agree.”

Andreas was surprised Spiros had resisted adding, “even if you don’t.” He took that as a sign of how desperate Spiros was for his help. What the hell, Tassos was a big boy. He could decide for himself whether or not to go along with Spiros’ wished for explanation.

“Okay, I’ll talk to him. But, first, I need to see the Tinos police’s file on the investigation.”

“Why?”

Andreas stared. “If you want me to help you close this case that can’t be a serious question.”

Spiros bit at his lower lip. “Okay, I’ll get it right over to you.” He stood up. “But I’m counting on you to do me this little favor and get everything wrapped up before the press gets to thinking there might be more to this than
tsigani
fighting
tsigani
.”

Andreas stood. “Thanks for stopping by. Always nice to see you, minister.”

Spiros pointed a finger at Andreas’ chest. “And I definitely want it closed before the wedding.”

“I’ll pass along your regards to Lila.” Andreas thought that a more politic goodbye than a simple, “So long, asshole.”

***

“
Maggie.
” Andreas found yelling for his secretary far more efficient than the intercom. The door swung open and a sturdy five-foot three-inch ball of energy came bounding into the room carrying a half-dozen file folders.

“You rang.”

“I like your hair. It looks very nice today.”

“Something really serious must be happening if you’re trying to soften me up.” Maggie had been a secretary at GADA for what seemed forever. She was its mother superior, knew all its secrets, and was used to speaking her mind. Pure chance landed her as Andreas’ secretary when her long time boss retired weeks before Andreas’ promotion back to GADA from Mykonos.

“Why do I even bother trying to be nice?”

“The word is ‘manipulative,’ not ‘nice.’ And the reason is because you can’t help yourself. You’re a man. Worse, a Greek man.” She put the files on Andreas’ desk.

Andreas put his left hand to his forehead and began to rub it. “Okay, I surrender. Please, I need you to pick out a gift for Lila. Something to show her I’m thinking of the wedding.”

“Oh boy, you must be in big time trouble.”

“You have no idea.”

“Unexpected gifts are the sure sign of a guilty conscience. The moment she sees it she’ll know something’s up.”

Andreas stared at her.

“Just call her and come clean.”

“Any other advice?”

“Then send the gift. Like a book of photographs showing beautiful weddings in churches. May I get back to work now?”

Andreas drew in and let out a breath. “I really do love you.”

“I know.” Maggie turned and walked toward the door.

“Have you been able to find Yianni?”

“Yes, he should be here any minute.”

“Great, tell him I want to see him as soon as he gets in.”

“Will do.” Maggie opened the door and pointed back at the files on Andreas’ desk. “They just came from the minister’s office.” As she closed the door she whispered into the room, “The book will be there by five, so don’t forget to call.”

Andreas stared at the closed door and shook his head. I’d rather call Spiros and tell him I quit than make this call. Lila is going to kill me. Calling off the wedding would be too easy on me.

Andreas was the son of a working class cop; Lila was from one of Greece’s oldest, wealthiest families, and the socially prominent young widow of a ship owner. Andreas met her when he called upon Lila’s knowledge of ancient Greek art for help in an investigation and things just happened between them. He loved her more than anyone on earth but never expected to marry her; even after she told him she was pregnant. He was certain they had too little in common to form a life together. Lila convinced him he was wrong.

Andreas drew in a deep breath. Perhaps this call might just prove to her that I was right. He picked up the phone and pressed a speed dial button.

“Vardi-Kaldis residence.”

He let out the breath. “Hi, Marietta, is Lila there?”

“One moment, Chief Kaldis.”

It was Andreas who insisted the phone be answered that way. All of Athens knew his soon-to-be-wife as Lila Vardi and, besides, most calls to their apartment were for her anyway.

“Hi, darling. I was wondering when I’d hear from you. What time are you picking me up for our rescheduled meeting with the wedding planner?”

Something in Lila’s voice told him this wouldn’t be easy. “Uhh, sorry. Things just sort of got out of hand.”

“Tell me about it. Remember how cute we thought it was watching Tassaki trying to walk? Well, today he’s decided to become a 24/7 sprinter.”

Their son was named Tassos, after Andreas deceased father, but when a well-meaning American friend of Lila’s added “aki” to the engraving on the silver frame of a baby photo—thinking Tassaki meant “little Tassos”—the laughs it generated sealed his fate. Greeks were in love with nicknames and little Tassos was now affectionately known by the Greek word for “ashtray.” Andreas tried convincing Lila it could have been worse; one of Andreas’ sister’s boys was called
kremidhas
the other
skordho
, a combination of “onions” and “garlic.” Lila still didn’t like it, but had come to accept the inevitable.

“What has him so wound up?”

“I think he’s waiting for his daddy to come home.”

Andreas took that as a warning:
MINE FIELD AHEAD
.

“I’ll try to get home as soon as I can.”

“Wrong answer.”

“I know. But something’s come up and—”

“In other words you can’t make it to the meeting.”

Andreas prayed for sudden loss of phone service. “Sorry.”

There was a seemingly eternal pause.

“Andreas Kaldis, we’re getting married in six days no matter how hard you try to convince me otherwise. All I want to know is whether your son and I can expect to see you on Mykonos next Sunday afternoon?”

Andreas swallowed. “I’ll try to be home before Tassaki goes to sleep.”

“Much better answer. Love you, bye.”

It wasn’t going to be a big wedding, at least not by Greek standards. Only a few hundred guests. Mykonos was where they fell in love and Lila’s family had a home large enough to accommodate the reception. But deciding to hold it on Greece’s most celebrated party island only ninety miles from Athens during the peak of the summer had turned it into one of the most anticipated social events of the season. Still, Lila wanted to keep it simple. At least as much as possible.

Andreas remembered Lila’s exact words: “We don’t need anything else to make it perfect.” But now she wanted the bridegroom showing up. Women. Always wanting more from a man than they said. He was smiling at his own stupid joke when a bull of a man about a head shorter than Andreas opened the door.