Also by Jeffrey Siger

The Chief Inspector Andreas Kaldis mysteries

MURDER IN MYKONOS

ASSASSINS OF ATHENS

AN AEGEAN PROPHECY (aka PREY ON PATMOS)

TARGET: TINOS

MYKONOS AFTER MIDNIGHT

SONS OF SPARTA

DEVIL OF DELPHI

SANTORINI CAESARS

AN AEGEAN APRIL

THE MYKONOS MOB (aka ISLAND OF SECRETS)

A DEADLY TWIST

ONE LAST CHANCE

AT ANY COST *

* available from Severn House

NOT DEAD YET

Jeffrey Siger

This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

First world edition published in Great Britain and the USA in 2025

by Severn House, an imprint of Canongate Books Ltd,

14 High Street, Edinburgh EH1 1TE.

This eBook edition first published in 2024 by Severn House,

an imprint of Canongate Books Ltd.

severnhouse.com

Copyright © Jeffrey Siger, 2025

Cover and jacket design by Jem Butcher Design

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. The right of Jeffrey Siger to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs & Patents Act 1988.

British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN-13: 978-1-4483-1496-6 (cased)

ISBN-13: 978-1-4483-1497-3 (e-book)

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Except where actual historical events and characters are being described for the storyline of this novel, all situations in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is purely coincidental.

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Praise for the Chief Inspector Andreas Kaldis mysteries

“A new Kaldis case is always a treat”

Booklist Starred Review of At Any Cost

“A timely mystery with an engaging cast and a sublime setting”

Kirkus Reviews on At Any Cost

“Breakneck action … Gorgeous descriptions of Greece”

Library Journal on At Any Cost

“Atmospheric and exciting”

Booklist Starred Review of One Last Chance

“Will appeal to fans of Donna Leon and Louise Penny”

Publishers Weekly on One Last Chance

“An engrossing procedural. New readers will discover the gorgeous aspects of Greek life”

Library Journal Starred Review of A Deadly Twist

“As always, Siger keeps readers turning the pages with ingenious plot twists and delicious description of the Greek isles”

Booklist on A Deadly Twist

About the author

Jeffrey Siger is an American living on the Aegean Greek island of Mykonos. A former Wall Street lawyer, he gave up his career as a name partner in his own New York City law firm to write the international best-selling, award recognized Chief Inspector Andreas Kaldis series. The New York Times has named him as Greece’s thriller novelist of record, and the Greek government selected him as the only American author writing novels that serve as a guide to Greece.

He’s also served as Chair of the National Board of Bouchercon, America’s largest mystery convention, and as Adjunct Professor of English at Washington & Jefferson College, teaching mystery writing.

jeffreysiger.com

To Dr Jeffrey W. Moses, with truly heartfelt love and thanks for all that you’ve done for me and my family over the years.

Acknowledgements

Roz & Mihalis Apostolou, Michael Barson; Andreas, Alexandra, Mihalis, & Anna Fiorentinos; Yanni & Flora Katsaounis; Panos Kelaidis; W. Wilder Knight II; Mackenzie of Skydive Sussex, NJ; Terrence McLaughlin, Karen Siger-McLaughlin, & Rachel Ida McLaughlin; Kathy & Michael Otinsky; Barbara Peters; Alan & Patricia Siger; Barbara Zilly Siger; Jonathan, Jennifer, Azriel & Gavriella Siger; Rachel Slatter; Ed Stackler; and, of course, Aikaterini Lalaouni.

ONE

The media had declared him dead a week ago, yet there he was, battered, bruised, tattered-clothed, and shoeless, plodding bear-like along a rugged Mediterranean shoreline, head down and oblivious to the pain inflicted upon his naked feet by the sharp rocks. The breezy late-summer afternoon turned slightly chilly once the sun had completed its ritual deep-orange setting, but the crisp, sea-scented air and starlight-filled sky drove him on.

Until he found the body.

He stood stiff-backed and stared.

Then lay down beside her.

And cried.

‘Chief, they found him,’ shouted Maggie Sikestes through the doorway of the office of her boss, Chief Inspector Andreas Kaldis.

‘Found who?’

‘Dimitris Onofrio.’

‘Dead or alive?’

‘Alive.’

‘He must be in bad shape.’

‘According to my sources, not as bad as you’d expect.’

Maggie Sikestes’s official title was Administrative Assistant to Athens Central Police Headquarters (GADA) Chief of Special Crimes Unit. But it was her unofficial role as mother superior of GADA’s support staff and her wide-ranging, subterranean network of government clerks, secretaries, and administrative staff that made Maggie an invaluable resource for cutting through Greece’s legendary bureaucratic red tape.

‘I dare not quarrel with your sources,’ said Andreas, ‘but if Onofrio was in the plane that went down a week ago in the deepest part of the Mediterranean Sea, it’s a miracle he was found, let alone survived. What about the others on the plane?’

Maggie stepped inside the office. ‘A worker in a sewage treatment plant in Messenia found him stretched out next to his wife on a remote Ionian beach about three hundred meters from the plant. He found only them. The coastline is rocky and beaches are rare. This one, Papa Limni, is particularly isolated.’

‘How’s the wife?’

Maggie gestured ‘no’ with a quick upward jerk of her head. ‘She didn’t make it. According to the plant worker, she looked like she’d been dead for days.’

‘Was her husband with her the whole time?’

‘No idea. The coast guard just arrived and is trying to piece together what happened. The husband is in shock and not making any sense.’

‘Sounds like there’s a hell of a story to be told.’

‘Which is why my source called me. To give us a heads-up on what’s coming our way.’

‘Dare I guess what that might be?’

‘Being the super detective that you are, I think it’s a safe bet you won’t be surprised.’

Andreas sighed. ‘If you’re about to tell me what I think you are, I think it’s safe to assume the Fates will not spare us from enduring the messy press coverage that inevitably stalks those unlucky enough to be drawn in to investigating Onofrio, his business ventures, political influence, and many alleged crimes.’

‘Messy press coverage? That’s one way to describe the media’s criticism of our government’s repeated failure to implicate Onofrio as Greece’s kingpin for international drug-smuggling operations, or as responsible for even one of a decade of murders and suspicious deaths of persons posing a threat to his interests.’

‘How else would you like me to describe it? Accusations are not evidence, and no one tasked with investigating Onofrio ever came up with evidence sufficient to convince a prosecutor or a judge that there was enough to bring a case against him.’

Maggie nearly shouted, ‘That’s because every witness prepared to come forward with evidence of his central role in Greece’s equivalent of the French Connection drug deal died before they could testify.’

Andreas shrugged. ‘What can I say other than that when the justice system couldn’t establish what the press believed it should, they started hammering anyone who couldn’t prove Onofrio had done anything wrong.’

He gestured for Maggie to sit in a chair across from his desk, leaned in toward her, and stage-whispered, ‘Frankly, something about those investigations always puzzled me. Our mandate is to investigate matters of national concern or official corruption, yet our unit was never consulted on anything having to do with Onofrio, let alone asked to investigate.’ He leaned back. ‘But, having more than enough serious cases of my own, I wasn’t about to stick my nose in another unit’s business.’

Now Maggie leaned in. ‘Aside from his reputed criminal activities, he’s a powerfully influential man with vast interests in the legitimate worlds of shipping, oil, media, and professional sports. I can’t imagine him or his associates wanting you looking into his affairs.’

‘That’s still not a reason to think him guilty of a crime.’

‘No, but getting you involved would mean that if he were guilty, you’d likely dig up the dirt and lead the way to prosecution.’

‘Thank you for the flattery, but if you’re right, why would those same powerful folks want me involved now?’

Maggie shook her head. ‘I don’t know. Maybe his associates think Onofrio believes the crash that killed his wife was meant for him and he’ll be coming after them because of it.’

Andreas nodded. ‘That response would be consistent with his reputation.’

‘It would also likely yield a very long list of names, including some prominent and politically influential society stalwarts who would not sleep soundly if they thought they might be on Onofrio’s hit list.’

Andreas grinned. ‘I sense you’re just warming up. So, tell me, how do I factor into your scenario?’

‘You offer these concerned citizens their best chance at keeping their names off his list. You have a reputation for incorruptibility, so if you conduct the investigation into the crash and determine it to be an accident, Onofrio is more likely to believe you than any other investigator.’

‘Fine, but what if I find it to be a botched assassination?’

‘As long as you name only those involved in the plot, anyone else Onofrio might have suspected will be in the clear and off his list.’

Andreas stared at Maggie. ‘I get it.’ He shook his head. ‘If Onofrio is anything like the brutal ruthless crazy some people claim him to be, there’s no way he’ll agree to let a court mete out justice. Anyone I name will be dead meat. No prosecution, no trial, no questions asked.’ He leaned back in his chair. ‘No, thank you – that’s not a role I intend to play.’

Maggie stared straight into his eyes. ‘On the other hand, by not conducting an investigation, you’re likely condemning a lot of innocent people to death, simply because a paranoid madman thinks they all deserve to die.’

Andreas cocked his head toward Maggie. ‘Why do I get the feeling you’re not telling me everything your source told you?’

She paused. ‘My source works for the ministry responsible for the aviation agency looking into the plane crash. When his boss learned Onofrio was alive, the first thing she said was, “As maniacal a narcissist as Onofrio was before the crash, it’s impossible to imagine him not going off on a wholesale revenge binge now that he survived.”’

Andreas pointed at his chest. ‘But why give us a heads-up?’

Maggie bit at her lip. ‘My source knows that I know a woman named Lila Vardi.’

Andreas blanched at hearing his wife’s name. ‘Why’s that relevant?’

Maggie held her breath for an instant. ‘The plane was chartered by Onofrio. It’s owned by a company that lists Lila and her father as its only officers, directors, and stockholders.’

‘In other words, if Onofrio creates a hit list, they’ll likely be on it.’

Maggie bit at her lip again.

Andreas stared at her for a moment. ‘Is there something else you want to tell me?’

She averted her gaze. ‘The company’s name is LV Lines.’

Andreas blinked. ‘Since LV is also my wife, I think it’s safe to presume that a paranoid like Onofrio would never accept my investigatory opinion as credible. It might even make him put Lila and her father at the top of his list. And include me for good measure.’

‘What are you going to do, Chief?’

‘Speak to Lila and her father.’

‘Then what?’

‘Pay a condolence call on Dimitris Onofrio.’

TWO

This wouldn’t be the first time, or the last, that the wealth and influence of his wife’s family added an unexpected twist to one of Andreas’s investigations. Ferreting out official corruption was a mainstay of his unit’s portfolio, and with Lila’s family being one of the wealthiest and most respected in Greece, it wasn’t uncommon for a social or business contact of her family to emerge as relevant to an investigation.

But this time was different.

Once word got out that Andreas’s wife and father-in-law owned the plane involved in the Onofrio crash, the media would be off and running with conspiracy dramas rivaling those still feeding the British public’s obsession with the death of Princess Diana.

And should Onofrio choose to blame Lila’s family …

Andreas let that thought drift away.

Alone in a blue and white police cruiser parked on perhaps the most exclusive street in Athens – close by Greece’s Presidential Mansion and across from the National Garden – Andreas sat pondering how to tell his wife that her life and the lives of her family might be in danger.

He turned his head to stare across Irodou Attikou at the entrance to the majestic apartment building he now called home. He remembered the first time he walked through that doorway, and how out of place he’d felt standing in its elegantly appointed lobby while waiting for a doorman to announce that a policeman was there to interview Mrs Lila Vardi.

At the time, Lila was public relations director for the Museum of Hellenic Art. Virtually single-handedly, she kept its world-renowned collection in the public eye. Through her society friends and media connections, rarely a week passed without some story, or at least a few photographs, appearing in one of Greece’s most popular celebrity magazines and tabloids. It wasn’t an ego trip; it was what kept the museum alive. There may be smiles on their faces, and dignity in their voices, but among most museum boards fundraising was a relentless battle against fickle giving habits and opportunistic competitors.

In keeping with the fundraising truism that ‘Donors like being part of something important, visible, and sexy,’ Lila was as priceless to the museum as anything in its collection. And since she refused a salary, asking only that the museum pay her expenses, she truly was priceless.

Andreas smiled as he thought of their feisty first encounter. She’d been recommended to him as a potential source of information on the ins and outs of Athens society relevant to a particularly perplexing murder investigation.

He’d expected a pretentious upper-class dilettante, and she had prepared for a classless, arrogant bureaucrat. Some of the same divisive societal perceptions that led to Greece’s post-World War II civil war – and that to some extent still persisted today.

Neither met the other’s expectations.

Vardi was not Lila’s maiden name. An only child, her family name could be found on at least one product on virtually every dinner table in Greece. If you ate, you knew her name. Vardi was her late husband’s name. He’d died in a car crash, and she’d kept his name as a memorial to him.

She and her husband met while she was at college in Boston, and she’d reflected on how his death had affected her. Andreas spoke of how tough it was at eight years old to lose his cop-father to suicide and grow up watching his mother and sister endure the flurry of false rumors surrounding his death.

Lila’s husband had been a successful ship owner, not one of the biggies or from one of the old families but successful, while her family was socially prominent and wealthy well before the 1900s. Her husband’s family never was part of that old-line crowd, and never achieved any sort of prominence, financial or otherwise, until the 1980s.

None of that meant a thing to her, but to some in Athenian society it was a mortal sin for Lila to have married him and elevated him to their level.

Andreas always chuckled at the thought of how those same folks must have reacted to Lila subsequently marrying a second-generation cop.

He sighed as he opened the car door.

Time to prepare my wife.

Andreas and Lila’s home occupied the top floor of a classic old-line apartment building standing about as tall as any residential structure in earthquake-conscious Athens. When the elevator doors opened on the sixth floor, Andreas thanked the lift operator, stepped into a tastefully decorated foyer, and headed straight for his front door, key in hand. His normal practice at this hour was to press the door buzzer quickly twice to alert those inside that he was home, but tonight he did not buzz. He entered hurriedly and passed briskly through rooms filled with French antiques, Old Master drawings, and classical paintings favored by his wife, not stopping until reaching a broad bank of windows offering a panoramic view of the Acropolis.

This was his favorite place to think.

‘I thought I heard someone creeping in here,’ said Lila walking into the room. ‘You didn’t buzz.’

‘I didn’t want to risk waking the kids.’

‘It’s not so far beyond their bedtime to have discouraged you in the past.’

His eyes remained fixed on the Parthenon.

Lila walked up behind him and pressed the palm of her right hand against the middle of his back. ‘You may not have wanted to disturb the children, but how about disturbing your wonderful wife with a little Hi-Honey-I’m-home kiss.’

Andreas turned and pulled her toward him in a powerful hug followed by a long, deep kiss.

‘Wow, I wasn’t expecting that sort of hello.’

Andreas relaxed his hug. ‘Sorry, I’m just chewing over something that came up at work.’

‘Really? You hide it so well,’ she said with a smile.

Andreas dropped his arms to his sides and attempted to force a grin. ‘It’s been a bad day.’

‘Do you want to talk about it?’

He shrugged.

Lila took his hand and led him to a sofa facing the windows. ‘Let’s sit here while you decide how much or how little of your day you want to share. I don’t want you aggravating yourself any more than you already are just to satisfy my overwhelming curiosity at what has my normally unflappable husband so worried.’

‘It shows?’

‘Whenever I find you standing alone in your contemplative corner staring up at the Acropolis, I know something’s bothering you.’

‘My contemplative corner?’

‘It’s a subconscious habit of yours. One I picked up on long ago. It means things aren’t going quite right in your world. Think of it as a behavioral cue one spouse learns to read in the other. It allows me to understand the mood behind your words.’ She smiled. ‘At least attentive spouses gain that skill.’

‘In other words, if I were a poker player, you’d say I have an obvious tell.’

‘That sounds about right.’ She kissed him on the forehead.

His face softened. He reached out with one hand and gently stroked her dark hair. ‘I guess I might as well tell you now. I’ll have to, sooner or later.’

Lila’s face drew taut. ‘Sounds like it’s something personal.’

Andreas nodded.

‘Are you ill?’

‘No.’

‘Is someone else?’

‘It’s not about anyone being sick.’

‘Have you been fired?’

‘No such luck.’

‘I’m not joking.’

‘I get it, otherwise you’d have asked me if it’s about another woman.’

‘Andreas, stop deflecting. What’s bothering you?’

He shut his eyes and drew in a deep breath.

‘Hey, you’re beginning to alarm me.’

‘Have you heard about the plane that crashed a week ago in the Ionian Sea in the deepest part of the Mediterranean?’

‘Of course. It was all over the news and is back today with reports of a miracle survivor.’

‘What do you know about the crash?’

‘Nothing more than what the media keeps harping on about to keep up the public’s interest. I think I know the storyline by heart.’ She sighed. ‘Approximately sixty kilometers southwest of Pylos and twice that south of Zakynthos, a plane dropped from the sky into an area of the Ionian Sea known as the Calypso Deep, which, at close to 5,200 meters, is the deepest part of the Mediterranean.’

He took her hand. ‘Have you talked about the crash with your father?’

‘My father? Why would I talk about it with Father?’

Andreas bit his lip. ‘Are you sure he never said anything to you about the crash. Or the plane?’

‘Why would he?’

‘I’ll take that as a yes.’

Lila pulled her hand away. ‘I get the impression you’re interrogating me as if I or my father is some sort of suspect.’

Andreas gestured ‘no.’ ‘Of course not, but I need to understand your family’s involvement with that plane in order to assess any risks that may be out there.’

‘Involvement? Risks? What are you talking about?’

‘The plane that crashed is owned by a company that lists you and your father as its sole shareholders, officers, and directors. And the company’s name is LV Lines.’

She stared at Andreas, then fixed her eyes on the Acropolis. ‘My God, what have I gotten our family into?’

‘I don’t think you, your father or that company did anything criminal. What concerns me is the nature of the miracle survivor of the crash.’

Lila’s eyes narrowed. ‘Dimitris Onofrio?’

He nodded. ‘Onofrio’s wife was also on that plane and she didn’t make it. Because of that, your life, your father’s life, your mother’s life, and the lives of everyone in our family could be in danger from Onofrio.’

She turned to face Andreas. ‘Wait. From Onofrio?’

He gave her another nod. ‘Do you want a straight answer or the sugar-coated version?’

‘Andreas! Enough with the melodrama. Just tell me.’

‘You’re familiar with Onofrio’s PR persona – the fabulously wealthy patron of the arts. That’s not how he’s known to us in law enforcement. To put it simply, he’s a ruthless, narcissistic, vengeful, criminal mastermind. Smart and powerful enough to avoid prosecution for his many crimes by arranging for those who threaten his well-being or business interests to turn up dead.’ Andreas cleared his throat. ‘He’s also known to take brutal revenge on those he perceives as having wronged him or his family. If—’

Lila cut him off. ‘But why would he want to take revenge against us? He has no basis for a grudge.’

‘I’m sure any clear-thinking, rational being would agree with you, but we’re talking about a deeply paranoid criminal mind so obsessed with the fear of being assassinated that he’s eliminated colleagues simply because his warped instincts got him thinking they might be future threats to his life.’ He swallowed. ‘We have to assume that if he perceives a failed assassination attempt on his life is what cost his wife hers, there’s no limitation on the scope of revenge he’ll be prepared to take.’

Lila stood, shook her head, and pointed toward the children’s rooms. ‘Would he go after Tassaki and Sofia?’

‘I wish I could say no. But I don’t know. All I can say is there’s nothing I’d put past him.’

She fixed her eyes on Andreas’s. ‘What do we do?’

‘We begin with finding out what, if anything, about this company might lead Onofrio to you and your father. I need to speak to your father ASAP.’

Lila wrapped her arms across her chest, shut her eyes, and exhaled. ‘His health hasn’t been the best.’

‘I know, that’s why I was hoping I could get the information from you.’

She opened her eyes. ‘I know virtually nothing about the company other than it was formed by my late husband and passed to me upon his death. My father always handled all the details for me.’

‘I still need to speak to him.’

‘I understand. Let’s call him. Just promise me one thing.’

‘What’s that?’

‘You’ll give him the sugar-coated version.’

Lila’s efforts to reach her father turned out to be far more complicated than she’d anticipated. She spoke daily to her mother but not nearly as frequently with her father, leaving it up to her mother to dutifully keep Lila’s father up to speed on the various goings-on of his daughter and grandchildren. When Lila called her mother looking to speak to her father, her mother pressed to know why. Lila said it had to do with a matter being investigated by Andreas.

She was not moved. ‘Your father isn’t here, darling, so tell me what it is – perhaps I can answer Andreas’s questions. After all, I do know many of the same people and most of the same gossip as your father.’

‘This has to do with routine corporate ownership arrangements, not something Father would likely bother boring you with.’

‘How do you know that? He speaks to me about everything.’ She paused to giggle. ‘With a particular penchant for the boring.’

‘Please, Mother, just tell me how I can reach Father. He’s not answering his mobile.’

‘That’s because he’s likely turned it off during his dinner meeting with the Nigerians.’

‘Nigerians?’

‘Yes, he’s at a delicate point in negotiations to acquire a major new source of flour for our products.’

‘This is the first I’ve heard of that.’

‘Darling, you have your own life to live. There’s no reason to intrude on you with details of your father’s business affairs. I, as a wife, have no choice but to listen.’

Lila chuckled as she glanced at Andreas listening in on the call. ‘Yes, Mother, I feel your pain, but Andreas believes Father might be able to help him. So, when you speak to him, please have him call Andreas ASAP.’

‘Very well. So, are the children still awake to say goodnight to their yia-yia?’

‘Last I checked they were both sleeping.’

‘Oh well, I’ll catch them tomorrow morning. Night, night.’

‘Goodnight, Mother.’

Lila looked at Andreas as she put down the phone. ‘I assumed you didn’t want to speak to Mother.’

Andreas nodded. ‘At least not yet. I want to know the corporate facts before having a conversation with either of your parents about my concerns. Any idea when your father might call me?’

‘My guess is as soon as Mother tells him to call you.’

Andreas smiled. ‘I feel your father’s pain.’

‘Andreas, I hope it’s not too late to call. Mother just told me you wanted to speak with me.’

‘No problem, sir, we’re in bed but still awake. Let me put you on speaker so that Lila can hear us. It will spare me being interrogated over what we talked about.’

‘Hi, Father, how are you feeling? I was surprised to hear you were out at a business dinner.’

‘I’m doing much better. I told my doctor I wanted to stay active in the business. He said that would be fine as long as I didn’t get so involved as to jeopardize my health. When I asked what he meant by that, he gave me some of the best advice I’ve received in a long time. “Use your common sense. Business is all about gaining money and power, and you don’t need any more. If you’re not enjoying what you’re doing, don’t do it.”’

Andreas laughed. ‘My job would be a lot easier if bad guys followed your doctor’s advice.’

‘I’ve since used it to my advantage when potential business partners try playing hardball with me. When they do, I simply say, “On my doctor’s orders I cannot participate in your style of negotiations. You’ll have to be more considerate of my condition if you want me involved in whatever you have in mind.”’

Andreas laughed again.

‘But, since you raised the subject of bad guys, I assume that’s why you wanted to talk to me.’

‘Not really, sir. My question has to do with a corporation that lists you and Lila as its sole shareholders, officers, and directors.’

‘Which corporation would that be?’

Andreas told him the name.

‘Is that the airplane leasing company?’

‘Yes, it’s the corporation that owned the plane that went down in the Ionian about a week ago.’

‘Really?’

‘You didn’t know that?’

‘I’d heard about the tragedy but had no idea that a company of mine was involved.’

‘We understand it leased the plane to Dimitris Onofrio.’

He paused. ‘I know of Mr Onofrio, but this is the first I’ve heard of any business of mine having any dealings with him.’

‘Are you involved in the chartering business?’

‘Yes, with our ships, but only passively with aircraft.’

‘What do you mean?’ asked Andreas.

‘When Lila’s late husband passed away, his estate consisted largely of shipping assets, all of which he left to Lila. But included among his holdings was a relatively small company involved in the charter of corporate jets he’d named LV Lines. Neither Lila nor I had any knowledge of that business or interest in it, but it was a highly profitable operation, no doubt playing to an affluent international crowd that associates a different meaning with Lila’s initials.’ He swallowed. ‘So … I found someone experienced in the business and offered him the opportunity of running the company for a share of the profits, with the understanding that neither Lila nor I were to be bothered with day-to-day operational details. He agreed, but the banks providing financing for new planes and related equipment purchases insisted I serve as a joint owner with Lila. I made arrangements that my share of the company’s after-tax profits go for the benefit of Lila, the children, and you, and when I die, Lila becomes its sole owner.’

‘Who’s running the business?’

‘A fellow named Christos Vlahous.’

‘Do you have a number for him?’

‘I can get it for you. I don’t believe I’ve spoken with him in years. He supplies me with regular accounting information and income distributions. I doubt Lila even knows who he is.’

Lila spoke up. ‘I’ve never heard of him. In fact, all I ever knew about the company was that it regularly sent me checks.’

‘That’s how I planned for it to work. Sort of like an annuity with no need for you to be involved.’

‘But didn’t you know that one of your planes was involved in a crash?’ said Andreas.

‘Unless Christos had told me, I wouldn’t know. I assume he did what I would have done: alert the appropriate insurance carriers and lawyers. I hired Christos to make it a stress-free, profitable operation, and that’s how it’s been operating. So much so that I put it out of mind. At least until now.’

He cleared his throat. ‘So, what has you so concerned that my wife waited up to tell me to call you at once?’

Andreas glanced at Lila. ‘I have been tasked to investigate the plane crash, and in the course of the investigation I learned that you and Lila own the company that owned the plane. That presents a potential conflict to my serving as the investigating officer. I’m just trying to determine whether I need to recuse myself. Nothing you told me suggests that I’ll need to do that, but I will have to speak to Mr Vlahous.’

‘Understood. I’ll get his number to you first thing tomorrow and tell him to cooperate with you fully. Is that OK?’

‘Perfect, thank you, sir.’

‘Now if you’ll excuse me, I shall seek to convince Lila’s mother that we are not in trouble with the police.’

Andreas laughed. ‘No, you’re not.’

‘You better not be,’ chirped in Lila, ‘or I know a certain chief inspector who’ll be in bigger trouble with his wife. Goodnight, Father.’

‘Kisses to you both.’

Andreas shook his head as he hung up the phone and lay back on his pillow.

‘What’s that head-shake for?’ asked Lila.

‘Don’t get me wrong,’ said Andreas, ‘you know I love your father and mother dearly, but it’s hard for me to imagine taking such a passive, uninvolved attitude toward a company that throws off so much money for their family.’

Lila shrugged. ‘I know, but I’ve been amazed at how many wealthy donors have no idea where all their money comes from or how much they even have. They depend on accountants, business managers, investment counselors, and lawyers to keep things straight.’

‘I hope I didn’t upset your father.’

‘No, I thought you handled it perfectly.’

‘Well, what I said is true. I’m sure there’s no potential criminal liability at play here on you or your father’s part, but if the investigation were to turn up anything linking legal liability back to either of you, I would have to recuse myself. That’s assuming the case were assigned to me. Up to now, I’m just unofficially looking into family matters.’

‘Just as long as you’re not forbidden from consorting with a potential party to the process.’

‘Forbidden by whom?’

Lila leaned back on their bed and spread her arms wide. ‘By little old consortee me.’

THREE

‘Christos Vlahous, please.’

‘Who’s calling?’

‘Chief Inspector Andreas Kaldis of Athens Central Police Headquarters.’

‘Ah, Lila Vardi’s husband. A pleasure to meet you, sir, if only over the phone.’

‘Mr Vlahous?’

‘Yes, yes. Sorry. I’m a bit distracted at the moment making breakfast for my son. He’s off to school in a few minutes and his mother is busy making his lunch.’

Andreas grinned. ‘Sounds sort of like my house at times.’

‘I’m not complaining, just explaining.’

‘Got it.’

‘So, how can I help you?’

‘I’m calling you about the plane crash.’

Vlahous’s voice dropped. ‘A terrible tragedy.’

‘I assume you heard one passenger was found alive.’

‘Yes, Mr Onofrio. I saw that on the news. It’s a miracle.’ He swallowed. ‘But it doesn’t bring back his lost wife, his two security guards, or the two pilot friends of mine who died with her. It’s something we’ll never get over.’

‘I understand. Have you spoken to Mr Onofrio?’

‘Not since the crash.’

‘What about before?’

‘A half-dozen times, maybe. But only to greet him if I happened to be around while he was boarding or disembarking one of our planes.’

‘He was a repeat customer?’

‘Oh, yes. Very much so.’

‘How often did he fly with you?’

‘I’d have to check, but I’d guess two or three times a month over the past couple of years. He used us for long-haul flights. For more localized travel he preferred helicopters, but we fly only fixed-wing aircraft.’

‘I’m surprised you only spoke to him on those few occasions.’

‘Booking arrangements with my office were always made by someone on his staff. Long ago I learned that in this business if you want to keep high-end clients, don’t make social chit-chat unless they initiate it. No matter what inflated views we may have of ourselves, we are but taxi drivers or service station attendants to his sort and – Taki, don’t leave until you finish your milk.’

‘Sorry to be bothering you while you’re helping with your son.’

‘No problem. So, what else can I help you with?’

‘Has a cause for the crash been determined?’

‘Our insurance carrier and lawyers are in the midst of addressing all of that. I understand they’ve still not found the black boxes, and they’re reluctant to guess. Have you heard anything?’

‘Not a word. Has anyone reached out to you about the crash?’

‘A lot of people. I refer all questions from the media to the company’s lawyers. As for investigatory agency inquiries, we’ve provided all the materials requested, including maintenance records and pilot logs, and answered all questions to the best of our abilities.’

‘Has anyone else sought to speak to you?’

‘Such as?’

‘Representatives of the deceased.’

‘Oh, yes. A lot of family members.’ He paused. ‘It’s really been tough on the pilots’ families not knowing whether their loved ones are alive or dead …’ His voice trailed off. ‘And the unexpected news that one man survived has played havoc with their emotions, just as they were beginning to accept that none had survived.’

‘Have you heard anything from the Onofrio family?’

‘No, although I did have my assistant call the person he generally deals with at Mr Onofrio’s companies to express our condolences.’

‘But none of his lawyers or anyone else on his behalf has attempted to contact you?’

‘No one. And I’m sure my staff would have told me or my assistant had anyone spoken or written to them.’

‘What’s your assistant’s name?’

‘Lefteris Drivas.’

‘How long has he worked for you?’

‘Since a year or so after I joined the company. But he wasn’t my assistant back then, he started out as an aviation mechanic and worked his way up.’

‘Thanks, you’ve been very helpful. I have just one more question.’

‘Shoot.’

‘How did you know I was Lila Vardi’s husband?’

Andreas heard a chuckle.

‘Chief Inspector, due to the generosity and trust of her father, I run this business for them. What would it say about me if after all these years in a personal-services business I did not know the names of my two bosses, their spouses, parents, children, and grandchildren?’

‘Good answer.’

Next morning, Andreas arrived in his office to find Detective Yianni Kouros lying on the couch along the wall of windows across from Andreas’s desk. The two had met many years before on Mykonos while Andreas briefly served as the island’s Chief of Police and Yianni was a brash but talented rookie cop. When Andreas moved on to his current position in Athens, he brought Yianni with him, and he’d been Andreas’s right-hand man ever since.

‘What are you doing here?’ Andreas asked, heading for his desk. ‘I thought you were on an island-hopping holiday with Toni.’

Yianni sat up and yawned. ‘We were, but a lucrative business opportunity came up that required her to be in Athens today, so we came back by ferry early this morning.’

‘And since you have nothing better to do with your free time, you dropped by the office to see what you might be missing.’

‘If that’s your subtle way of telling me to get a life, you’re wasting your time. Maggie’s already given me that lecture.’

Andreas chuckled as he leaned against his desk facing Yianni. ‘So, what’s the business opportunity? Does it involve Toni’s piano talents or her gift for recovering valuables on behalf of the recently robbed?’

‘No way that she’d cut short our holiday for a piano gig. The meeting’s with the head of claims for a major insurance company. He’s looking for a way to manage the spike in claims his company is receiving tied to ultra-expensive watches. They’re being snatched off insureds’ wrists by thieves so smooth the victims don’t realize they’ve been robbed until they bother to check for the time.’

‘That sort of grab-and-snatch tourist season crime has been around since long before I was a cop.’

‘Yes, but there’s been a big jump in high-value thefts, especially in vacation hotspots.’

Andreas shrugged. ‘That makes perfect sense to me. After all, if you’re a thief looking for the most profitable opportunities in practicing your trade, are you going to spend your time wandering among goats and olive trees in remote Greek mountain villages, or in places where conspicuous consumption rules. Clubs, bars, and beaches packed with crowds of drunken, drugged-out partiers dressing to impress perfect strangers with over-the-top displays of wealth would be my choice.’

‘You’ll get no argument from Toni or me on that, Chief. She considers the jump in high-end theft directly related to a tourism mentality premised on charging higher prices to draw in a more affluent clientele. Trouble is, it also attracts far more predatory felons than the simple sneak thief. This new breed is organized. They train in their home countries and descend like locusts upon a targeted locale, systematically stripping tourists before hustling their loot out of Greece and moving on to the next target.’

‘How does Toni plan on changing that paradigm for the insurance company?’

‘By doing what she already does for her individual clients. Create working relationships with bad guys so that in exchange for the immediate return of stolen goods they not only avoid the risk of prison time but receive a cash-in-hand buy-back price competitive with what they’d expect to receive from fences back home.’

‘Sounds to me as if that’s a sure-fire way to encourage more foxes into the hen house.’

‘The insurance company sees things differently. Yes, it would prefer far more aggressive police intervention to curb the robberies, but while awaiting that miracle to occur, it sees Toni’s strategy as a method for reducing claim payouts to a far more digestible amount than the full retail price payouts it’s now making to policyholders.’

Andreas shrugged again. ‘If it works for Toni, it works for me, just as long as she’s careful about which bad guys she chooses to do business with. She doesn’t want to end up in the middle of a feud between competing gangs. They don’t play nice.’

‘Noted.’ Yianni cleared his throat. ‘Now that you’ve raised the subject of bad guys who don’t play nice, Maggie told me about the Onofrio situation.’

‘Yep, it’s a tricky one.’

‘How do you plan on handling it?’

‘Hoping it simply goes away has a certain appeal.’ Andreas feigned a smile. ‘But we both know that’s not a strategy. It’s a prayer.’ He fluttered his lips. ‘I’m a realist. With Lila and her family involved, it’s likely that when the Minister gets round to it, the case will be assigned to someone outside our unit.’ He paused. ‘But, being a realist, I’m not about to entrust the lives of my family to someone else’s judgment.’

‘Which brings me back to my question about what you have in mind.’

‘I’m thinking you and I should find something interesting to do while you wait for Toni to finish her meeting.’

‘And by “interesting to do” you mean precisely what?’

Andreas stood and walked toward his office door. ‘How about joining me to pay an unofficial condolence call on Dimitris Onofrio?’

Yianni rolled his eyes as he followed Andreas. ‘Why did I even bother to ask.’

Dimitris Onofrio owned homes in many places around the world, including London, New York, Mykonos, Rougemont, and the largest private residence in Athens’s wealthiest main-line suburb. He’d grown up bitterly poor in Athens’s roughneck port city of Piraeus as the second son of a dawn-to-dusk hardworking dockside porter. He’d shared a tiny fourth-floor walk-up apartment with his parents and two brothers until his father died in a horrific port-side accident, leaving the family unable to pay the rent. His mother moved in with her sister, taking her youngest son with her and leaving the older boys – ages twelve and fourteen – to fend for themselves on the streets of Piraeus.

Decades later, in an apparent paean to his overcoming those challenging roots, an already wealthy Onofrio bought the rundown building he once called home. But instead of rehabilitating it in honor of his achievements, he promptly evicted every tenant and turned the building into a whorehouse filled with trafficked Balkan women.

Life taught Onofrio that ruthless opportunism worked, and as if to drive home that point to the world, he lived a life of unfettered ostentation driven by his obsession for acquiring celebrated trophies attesting to his success. Fine art, rare books, championship sports teams, and vintage wines all featured prominently in his collection. But what mattered to him most and what he valued above all else was his third wife, Alexandra.

It wasn’t Alexandra’s beauty that enthralled him, for beautiful women were as plentiful and readily available to him as harborside cats are to catch-laden fishermen.

They’d met at a state dinner when he was married to his second wife, a former Greek television anchor renowned for her great beauty and penchant for Paris couture and fine jewelry. Wife Number Two habitually held court for her sycophantic admirers and paid little attention to her husband’s predilection for leaving her alone whenever she did.

It was during such a momentary respite from his wife that Onofrio met Alexandra, a career diplomat in Greece’s Foreign Service. A Balkan foreign minister who knew her from a past ambassadorial-level posting to his country introduced Onofrio to her as a colleague in unspecified ‘business dealings’ before leaving them to chat alone.

Onofrio’s usual reaction upon meeting a new woman was to contemplate a strategy for bedding her. But not with Alexandra. She did not attract him. Standing close to his height, athletically trim, with dark hair tightly pulled back in a bun and virtually devoid of makeup, she seemed more like a male athlete than the sort of voluptuous centerfold-type woman he favored.

Still, he knew to be gentlemanly and courteous on these occasions, and patiently waited for the litany of questions one expects to receive upon being introduced to someone new at such a formal event.

Alexandra did not disappoint, and Onofrio dutifully recited his well-rehearsed pitch on being a poor boy who made it big through hard work and dedication to his family, church, and country. Alexandra listened intently, nodding in awe at every appropriate occasion, and once he’d finished, paused as if overwhelmed at the magnitude of what she’d just heard.

‘That’s all very impressive, Mr Onofrio, but aren’t you tired of peddling all that made-up public relations BS? We both know the truth about how you made your money, and if I didn’t, I’d be a lousy diplomat.’

Onofrio bristled, ‘If that’s how you speak to people you just met, I don’t doubt you’re a lousy diplomat.’

She laughed.

He clenched his bear-like fists, as if struggling to retain control. ‘Fuck you, bitch.’

Alexandra laughed again. ‘Amazing how easy it was to get you to blow your I’m-a-perfect-gentleman cover. If you noticed, I took care to say what I did so that only you could hear me. Thankfully, you didn’t curse me loud enough to prove to anyone within earshot that you’re just as out of control as you’re rumored to be.’

With his fists still tightly clenched, but in a voice straining for control he muttered, ‘Maybe I like being considered “out of control.”’

Alexandra fixed her eyes on his, as if taking the measure of his fuming anger. ‘Ah yes, the “I’m a crazy mad lunatic ploy” practiced by evil autocrats hoping to convince saner folk to let them have their wicked ways.’

Onofrio’s eyes narrowed, and his face reddened as if he were about to explode.

Alexandra shook her head. ‘Frankly, from the point of view of the autocrat, I don’t agree with that strategy. Because to make it work, you must accept that you and your family will be ostracized from much of the civilized world.’ She nodded toward Onofrio’s wife holding court across the room. ‘Something I don’t think she’ll go along with.’

‘What are you trying to say?’

‘So far, your methods have proven extraordinarily successful. Harsh, some might say, even ruthless or barbaric. But the bottom line is, they’ve worked. And I applaud you for that. But where do you intend on going from here? If you’re only interested in acquiring more power and wealth, how long do you think you’ll get away with that before someone says enough is enough and decides to oust you? Perhaps it’s time to reflect on what you might like to achieve in life beyond the mere accoutrements of wealth and power.’

‘Are you some sort of emissary for the Church?’

‘Church?’ She laughed again. ‘Anyone who knows the Church knows it wouldn’t want me as its representative, and vice-versa.’

‘OK, so what’s your angle?’

‘I have no angle. I just thought you could use a bit of honesty, and I could use a break from spewing diplomatic-cocktail-party BS.’ She nodded in the direction of the maître d’hôtel. ‘I think we’re about to be invited in for dinner. I hope nothing I said spoils your evening. I was carried away a bit because I found talking with you refreshing, and it’s charged me up sufficiently to make it through another petrifyingly boring state dinner.’ She smiled, said, ‘Thanks for that,’ swung around, and walked away.

Onofrio stood in place, not quite sure what had just happened. She wasn’t at all what he’d expected. As he watched her sashay away, a different thought came to mind:

She’s got a great ass.

As a Greek woman immersed in the old-boy network of international diplomacy, Alexandra was well aware of being viewed as a target for sexual conquest by colleagues and adversaries alike. Their approaches differed – some subtle, some not – but she’d learned to parry them all with wit and, if necessary, unmistakable firmness. To date, she held and maintained an impeccable reputation for her keen professional skills and ascetic private life. In furtherance of her carefully groomed reputation, she kept to a rigorous personal-fitness routine and eschewed gender-enhancing dress and makeup altogether.

Those who thought they knew her well saw Alexandra headed toward political greatness in Greece, of the order of that achieved by her maternal grandfather. She’d been raised by a family desperate for its children to reclaim political relevance. But her two brothers had showed little of the promise she possessed and none of her drive. Both were older and left Greece to attend university, one in the UK and the other in the US. Neither returned.

This left Alexandra alone to shoulder the burden of her family’s political aspirations. Her parents proposed what they saw as the quickest and surest path toward achieving that goal: marry the scion of an old-line shipping family deeply immersed in national politics.

But she refused.

To settle the family row her refusal generated, she proposed joining the Foreign Service, promising to burnish the family name as she went about establishing herself as a political force to be reckoned with. Faced down by their strong-willed daughter, the family agreed, leaving Alexandra to her own devices for achieving the prominence she’d promised them.

On the night she first met Onofrio, ten years had passed since she joined the Foreign Service. Highly valued by her superiors, but unable to overcome more politically connected competitors for plum diplomatic appointments, and relentlessly besieged by her family to achieve the political prominence she’d promised, Alexandra had begun second-guessing her earlier judgments on how best to steer her life forward.

Perhaps she should have married the boy her parents suggested. Her girlfriends who’d followed the marry-well route all seemed happy enough as stay-at-home wives and mothers. But Alexandra thrived on the notion of making things happen on a national scale. She simply could not see herself surrendering that intoxicating sense of power in exchange for the largely predictable life of social prominence without financial worry.

And truth be told, there were way too many husbands out there behaving as all-powerful beings who arrogantly believed their wives could achieve nothing without them. She saw little value to gain by investing the time and energy it would require to change that sort of man. The marital challenge seemed unworthy of undertaking.

On that thought, an image from earlier that evening, of Onofrio clenching his fists as if about to burst a blood vessel, popped a smile on to her face.

Now that would be a reclamation project akin to achieving world peace.

FOUR

The medevac helicopter dispatched to transport Onofrio to Athens for medical evaluation, and Alexandra for autopsy, landed on a grassy patch of solid ground atop a rocky hillside approximately a hundred meters from where he’d found his wife.

When police attempted to put Alexandra’s remains into a postmortem bag, Onofrio lunged at them as if the bear he resembled had come silently raging out of hibernation to protect his mate. It took three burly men to restrain him, while a fourth administered an injection to calm him down.

Two paramedics, one in front and one behind, cautiously steered Onofrio up the hillside behind two officers carrying the body bag. The helicopter left for Athens without further incident or Onofrio at any point having uttered a single word to anyone, including the sewage-plant worker who’d found the couple lying on the beach.

Catatonic was how the paramedics described him to the hospital staff, and how he remained when Andreas and Yianni arrived at the hospital hoping to interview him.

They parked in the lot reserved for doctors and entered the hospital through the main entrance. A receptionist at the desk told them to ‘follow the blue tiles in the floor’ for the elevators to Onofrio’s floor, and once on the floor to ask for his room number.

‘I’m sorry, Chief Inspector,’ announced the courteous young woman at the nursing station down the hall from Onofrio’s private room, ‘but his personal physician left strict instructions not to disturb him except for medical reasons.’

Andreas nodded. ‘That sounds reasonable, but what does it mean?’

She blinked. ‘Just what it sounds like.’

‘I see, then I assume it means not to disturb the patient except to the extent necessary to protect his life?’

‘Of course.’

‘Well then, we qualify as a reason. The police officer currently stationed outside his hospital room 24/7 is there because your patient’s life is in danger from persons unknown, and we’re charged with protecting him from further harm.’

Somewhat flustered, the nurse said, ‘But he doesn’t speak. He hasn’t said a word to anyone since he was found. He’s in a very delicate psychological condition brought on by extraordinary physical and psychological trauma.’

‘Understood, but how is his physical condition?’

‘Remarkably good, considering all he’s endured.’

‘Then us looking in on him briefly won’t threaten him medically?’

‘I can’t say that.’

‘But can you say that it will?’

‘Not without my being there to observe your behavior.’

‘Terrific. Come join us and make the determination for yourself.’

Andreas and Yianni turned and headed toward the police officer at the end of the hall.

‘But, but …’ stammered the nurse, ‘I can’t leave my station.’

‘Understood,’ said Andreas, still heading down the hall. ‘Join us when you can.’

As they approached Onofrio’s room, the cop stood. They stopped and identified themselves to him.

‘The nurse will be joining us,’ Andreas assured him. ‘We’ll wait inside.’

The cop nodded and sat back down.

Andreas softly opened the door and the two of them stepped inside, not saying a word.

Onofrio lay in a room more than twice the size of Andreas’s office, hooked up to a bank of monitors, IVs, drainage tubes, and oxygen. A row of windows along the far side of his bed offered a distant view of upscale Athens suburbs. At the near end of the room sat a tastefully furnished visitor area, complete with a big-screen entertainment center. This was not the sort of accommodation accident victims could expect to receive when rushed to a public hospital, but this patient was Dimitris Onofrio, a well-known endower of private hospitals, including this one.

Onofrio’s wide-open eyes stared at some spot on the ceiling above him. He appeared oblivious to the strangers in his room.

‘How long do you think we have until the nurse calls in the cavalry?’ whispered Yianni.

‘Figure on thirty seconds.’

‘Max.’

Andreas slowly approached the bed. ‘Mr Onofrio, my name is Andreas Kaldis. Please don’t be alarmed – we’re here to help you as best we can. You have our sincerest condolences on your loss, and we want to help by finding anyone responsible for what you and your wife endured.’

Onofrio showed not the slightest flinch.

‘I’ll leave my card on your bedside table and another copy with your nurse. Please feel free to reach out to me with any information you believe might be helpful to our investigation. Perastiká.’

No sooner had Andreas wished him a speedy recovery than the door to the room swung open and a doctor, followed by the nurse, came charging in.

The doctor spoke through clenched teeth. ‘How dare you violate my orders and endanger the health of my patient?’

‘As I’m sure the nurse can explain to you, I’m doing the opposite.’ Andreas took a card out of his pocket and handed it to the nurse. ‘Please give this to Mr Onofrio when next you speak to him. He’s expecting you to have it.’

The doctor grabbed the card out of the nurse’s hand and tore it in half. ‘No one speaks to my patient without my consent.’

‘How do you know that’s what he wants?’

‘Because I’ve been his personal physician for years.’

‘I see,’ said Andreas, taking two more copies of his card out of his pocket. He handed one to the nurse again, saying, ‘Same instructions as before.’

He held out the second card to the doctor. ‘I have plenty of these, but I’m giving you this one so you’ll know where to find us for your interview.’

‘What interview?’

‘The one you’re going to schedule ASAP with Detective Kouros,’ pointing to Yianni, ‘to plumb your memory for potential information on who might be responsible for what happened to your patient and his wife.’

‘This is outrageous harassment. What makes you think I’d know anything?’

Andreas smiled as he tucked the card into the breast pocket of the doctor’s coat, taking note of the name on his ID badge as he did. ‘Because, Dr Seraphim, you’ve been his personal physician for years.’

‘You drive,’ said Andreas, flipping the SUV’s keys to Yianni.

‘Where to?’

‘Back to GADA.’ A ringing mobile phone in hand, Andreas slid on to the front passenger seat and hit the speaker button as a female voice came online.

‘Hi, Chief, how did your hospital visit go?’ asked Maggie.

‘About as well as could be expected with an uncommunicative, utterly unresponsive Onofrio tuned out to everything in his world but for the ceiling above his bed.’

‘That doesn’t sound too hopeful.’

‘What hope there is for him I can’t say, but on the off chance he does understand what’s going on around him, I was able to make the point that he can reach out to us for help.’

‘Why would you expect him to want help from the police? He’s the sort who’ll want to take revenge on his own terms. The more brutal, the better.’

‘Agreed, but what does he have to lose by accepting our help? Whatever names he gets from us he can simply add to the list of targets probably running through his mind since the plane first fell from the sky.’

‘But you never told him we’re police,’ said Yianni.

‘I didn’t want to trigger the traditional bad guy’s knee-jerk negative reaction to anything to do with the police. He might be wondering who we are – even suspect we’re police – but not mentioning that up front seemed our best chance at getting him to at least mull over our offer.’

‘Until he sees the card you left for him,’ said Yianni.

‘I’d hoped my unspecified reference to the card might pique his interest in it,’ said Andreas. ‘But I never counted on his doctor adding such drama to the moment. If Onofrio is conscious of his surroundings, the good doctor certainly drove home to his patient the impact of my card.’

‘Pretentious?’ asked Maggie.

‘A Class A exhibit of the sort who thrive on practicing celebrity medicine.’

‘Celebrity medicine?’ asked Yianni.

‘Medical professionals who by reason of the celebrity of their patients acquire an outsized and overvalued impression of their own skills and importance. Some take their duty to protect their clients’ privacy as justification for keeping them insulated from opinions other than their own, a potentially counterproductive approach for maintaining their patients’ health.’

Kouros nodded. ‘But what could Onofrio’s doctor possibly tell us that’s relevant to an investigation into the plane crash?’

‘We won’t know until we ask him.’

‘Uh, boys, on that note I think I should interrupt you.’

‘What is it, Maggie?’

‘I called you, Chief, to say I’d just received a message from our Minister’s secretary that the Minister wants to speak with you ASAP regarding a call to him from a Dr Seraphim.’

‘Aha,’ said Andreas. ‘The upside of celebrity medicine. Connections. Please call back our boss’s secretary, tell her you gave me the message and, as directed, I’ll call him ASAP.’

‘Why do I sense you’re focused on other priorities?’

‘Your keen woman’s intuition?’

‘Bye-bye.’

After Maggie left, Andreas sat for a moment in the passenger’s seat, toying with his mobile phone.

‘Are we still heading back to GADA?’ asked Yianni.

‘Since I assume we’re about to be ordered to keep our noses out of anything having to do with Onofrio, I’d like to take a shot at learning what we can about what happened to Onofrio’s plane.’

‘From whom?’

‘The Hellenic AAIASB.’

‘Is that where Maggie’s source works?’

‘She never said, and I can’t imagine her giving me a name unless her source authorized it. Something I doubt will happen, given that talking to cops is a perfect way of making it on to Onofrio’s shit list.’

‘What makes you think anybody at AAIASB will take that risk and talk to us?’

‘The Air Accident Investigation and Aviation Safety Board is charged by the Ministry of Infrastructure and Transportation with coordinating all agencies involved in investigating plane crashes. If we’re lucky, we’ll find someone involved in the Onofrio investigation who’s as committed as their board is to finding answers and interested in working with another agency to achieve the same.’

‘Ah, the mythical inter-agency cooperation scenario. In other words, you’re banking on a wing and a prayer.’

Andreas stared at the side of Yianni’s shaved head. ‘Just shut up and drive.’

Yianni struggled not to smile. ‘Where to?’

‘Just off the National Road in Nea Filadelfeia, across from its community sports center at the corner of Vitinis and Kikladon.’

Yianni glanced at Andreas. ‘How do you know that off the top of your head?’

Andreas held up his phone. ‘It’s called Google Maps.’

They parked in front of a modern, multi-tower, five-story glass and ochre-tinted stucco office building. A plaque on one of the two marble gate posts on either side of the front gate read AIR ACCIDENT INVESTIGATION AND AVIATION SAFETY BOARD.

‘I guess Google got it right this time,’ said Yianni.

‘I’ll take that as a sign we were meant to be here.’

Yianni pointed across the street. ‘From some of the graffiti written across that playground wall, I’m not sure all the neighbors would agree.’

‘With all the windows in this building, we should be able to keep an eye on the car. Just be sure to lock it up.’

As they headed for the door Yianni asked, ‘So who are we looking for?’

‘Anyone who’ll talk to us.’

‘Sounds promising.’

Andreas strode into the building as if he belonged there, and wearing his most solicitous and charming smile made his way to what seemed to be the receptionist station.

Showing his credentials he said, ‘Hi, sir, we’re here to see the team leader running the Onofrio plane-crash investigation.’

‘Do you have an appointment, Chief Inspector?’

‘No, but I did not know I needed one.’

‘I couldn’t say, sir, but all I meant was the person you’re looking for just left for the day.’

Andreas shook his head in seeming disappointment. ‘I can’t believe our bad luck. Well, is there anyone else on his team we could speak to? It’s a matter of some urgency.’

‘Yes, there is.’

‘And who would that be?’

‘Me.’

Andreas turned to Yianni. ‘See, this truly is our lucky day.’

‘I don’t know how helpful I can be. I just came out here to sit at the desk while waiting for my lunch to be delivered. I’m more of a back-office technical guy. My boss deals with public inquiries.’

‘I understand completely. It’s sort of the same relationship I have with my detective here.’

Yianni blinked.

‘Isn’t that so, Yianni?’

‘Yes, sir,’ followed an audible throat-clearing.

Andreas extended his hand, ‘Call me Andreas, and this is Yianni.’

‘My name is Manos.’

They all shook hands.

‘Is there a more private place where we could sit and talk?’

‘I’m not sure I should be doing that.’

‘If you want to check on whether we’re who we say we are, feel free to call GADA and ask for my office.’

‘No, that’s not what I meant. Our investigations are confidential.’

‘Understood, but we’re not looking for anything that would breach any confidence. We’re just trying to get general background information on the process involved. Should something we ask be out-of-bounds, just say so.’

Manos appeared unconvinced. ‘It could cost me my job.’

‘I know how you feel,’ said Yianni, shaking his head. ‘I’m guessing your boss at times makes you feel incompetent to handle anything on your own other than the simplest most menial tasks. It’s frustrating when you know you’re the one doing the basic work and who possesses the clearest grasp of the situation. I’ve no doubt you know the parameters of what can be shared with us better than anyone else at AAIASB. As my chief explained, all we’re looking for is basic background information so that we can proceed with our independent investigation into matters wholly unrelated to your own.’

Manos noticeably chewed at his lip.

‘Yianni’s right. I respect him more when he takes charge of the moment, especially when – as in this case – a grave injustice is about to befall innocents wrongfully branded in the press as somehow responsible for that tragic incident. All we ask is that you tell us what you believe you can. Nothing more.’

Manos closed his eyes. Andreas held his breath.

‘Can I bring my lunch with me?’

Andreas exhaled ‘Of course, and I’ll even buy.’

‘That might be considered inappropriate,’ said Manos.

‘But feel free to buy mine, Chief,’ joked Yianni.

All three laughed.

As soon as Manos’s lunch arrived, they moved into an empty office sparsely furnished with three unmatched chairs and a well-worn desk, all looking to have done particularly hard service in government quarters long predating their current offices.

It did, though, have a view of their police SUV.

Andreas and Yianni started off asking broad general questions about matters with answers already well-covered in the media. They slowly edged into more specific questions related to where and when the plane went down, receiving qualified answers from Manos. He pointed out that the Cockpit Voice Recorder and Flight Data Recorder, better known as the black boxes, would contain that information but had not yet been recovered.

‘I think I know the answer to this question,’ said Andreas, ‘but do you have any idea when they might be found?’

Manos smiled ruefully. ‘I’ll tell you when we find one.’

‘Why do you think they haven’t been recovered? Is it because of how deep and dark that part of the sea is?’

‘Black boxes are actually painted blaze orange and fitted with reflective tape, but where the plane went down could complicate a visual sighting. Still, that doesn’t explain why we’re not picking up a signal from the underwater locator beacons.’

‘What sort of signal?’

‘Each recorder is fitted with a ULB that generates an ultrasonic pulse detectable by acoustical locating equipment such as sonar. A submergence sensor on the beacon activates when water hits the sensor and that sets off a pinging once per second for thirty days. That signal could be picked up even if the recorder fell to the deepest part of the sea. So far, though, no pinging has been detected.’

‘Why is that?’ asked Yianni.

‘The simple answer could be, it’s a deep, dark sea.’

‘How about a not so simple answer?’ asked Andreas.

Manos grinned. ‘Recorders are designed to survive horrific crashes, but it’s possible for a beacon to be destroyed in a particularly severe crash. Not likely, but possible.’

‘What are the odds of that happening to the beacons on both recorders in the same crash?’

‘Odds I can’t give you, but I can say I’ve never heard or read of that ever happening.’

‘So, you think you’ll find at least one?’

‘I hope so, but if we don’t, we won’t give up. Sometimes it takes years to find a missing recorder. But if it’s out there, I’m confident we will.’

‘That’s a bit longer timeline than we have to work with,’ said Andreas. ‘Any ideas on what might have caused the accident?’

Manos smiled. ‘You’ve finally asked a question I can’t possibly answer or even speculate upon.’

‘Understood,’ nodded Andreas.

Yianni raised his hand. ‘If I may, Chief. Do you mind if I phrase your question somewhat differently?’

‘Not at all,’ shrugged Andreas.

‘Though I’m not sure I can answer differently,’ warned Manos.

Yianni nodded. ‘Everyone in Greece is well aware of Helios Airways Flight 522, the deadliest aviation accident in Greek history. It occurred about ten years ago and was attributed to air pressure and reduced oxygen levels that the crew members could not correct in time to save the plane.’

Manos’s face paled. ‘Killing all one hundred and twenty-one people on board.’ He stared out the window. ‘Including my parents.’

Yianni blanched. ‘Oh my God, I had no idea. I apologize for raising it.’

Manos shook his head. ‘No need to apologize. In this agency, Flight 522 is ever-present in our minds. For me it’s just a more nuanced reason than it is for the others. We’re all interested in flight safety. My motivation for going into this career was different from my colleagues’, but our purpose is the same.’

‘I don’t know what to say,’ said Andreas. ‘We didn’t mean for our questions to drift into such unpleasant territory.’

Manos sighed. ‘Well, now that you have, let me see if I can answer what I anticipate to be Yianni’s question. You’d like to know if something like what brought down Flight 522 could explain what happened to the Onofrio plane.’ He took a sip of what remained of his water. ‘The answer is yes, though for it to have happened with modern aircraft would require far more direct, intended human intervention than the negligence and poor training that brought down Flight 522.’

Andreas and Yianni said not a word.

‘As you may recall, in Flight 522 a repair crew neglected to reset the pressurization system to automatic on takeoff. It led to the tragic interplay of missed signals, utter negligence, and plane design, all resulting in virtually all on board suffering generalized oxygen deprivation and incapacitation while autopilot kept the plane flying until it ran out of fuel and crashed. That sort of accident is called a “ghost flight.” And without the recorders, I can’t rule out that, under the right conditions, it could have happened to the Onofrio flight.’

‘But how could Onofrio have survived a ghost flight?’

‘Again, I can’t speculate on that.’

Andreas rubbed his chin. ‘Assuming it was a ghost flight being kept in the air on autopilot … Is it possible for the plane to have glided into the sea rather than dropped like a rock?’

‘That’s why we need the recorders.’

‘You’re not saying that’s out of the question?’

‘No, I’m not.’

‘But,’ said Andreas, ‘if a lack of oxygen rendered him unconscious and he remained in that state long enough for the plane to run out of fuel, how could he have survived the crash?’

‘I can’t answer your question except to say oxygen deprivation affects different people in different ways, and I’ve no idea how much fuel the plane carried.’

Andreas looked at Yianni, then turned back toward Manos. ‘I sincerely thank you for taking the time to talk to us. You’ve been very helpful.’

‘Thank you. You made my souvlaki more exciting than usual.’

‘Our pleasure,’ smiled Yianni.

‘And you didn’t ask me any questions much different from those my boss is constantly fielding about the Onofrio crash.’

Andreas perked up. ‘Questions from whom?’

‘The usual cast of characters: media, insurance carriers, aeronautical plane and parts manufacturers, lawyers and experts for prospective defendants and plaintiffs. They all line up hoping to find an angle that will help them in their pitches, claiming innocence while they look to push blame off on others. These are big cases involving sophisticated adversaries.’

‘With you squarely in the middle,’ added Andreas.

‘You got that right,’ nodded Manos.

‘Did you notice anything out of the ordinary involving this usual cast of characters?’

‘No, not really.’

‘Not really?’ said Yianni.

‘Well, at first all of them were barraging us for information on the crash 24/7, but then suddenly, crickets.’

‘Crickets?’

‘Yes, all the pressure on us stopped. It was as if nobody was interested in playing the blame game anymore.’

‘When did the crickets appear?’

Manos paused for a moment to think. ‘When it was announced Onofrio had been found alive.’

‘Any idea why the sudden change?’

Manos cocked his head. ‘I may be a back-office guy, but I do read the papers. I know who Onofrio is and what’s likely to happen to anyone he thinks responsible for what happened to him and his wife.’

‘Point taken,’ said Andreas. ‘One last question. We’re going to have additional questions that fall within your area of expertise, but we don’t want to bother you again. So, can you recommend someone outside AAIASB who knows your world well enough to assist us?’

Manos nodded. ‘As a matter of fact, I do. He’s retired but was one of our best investigators. He’d be perfect for your needs. But let me check with him if it’s OK to give you his name.’

‘We promise not to contact him until you give us the OK but do have to make sure there’s no legal reason that would restrict us from reaching out to him.’

‘Sounds reasonable. His name is Niko Reichardt, and he lives down by the old Hellinikon Airport.’

‘Chief.’

‘What is it?’

‘Some kids are trying to break into the car.’

Jumping to his feet, Andreas quickly shook Manos’s hand and headed for the door. ‘Sorry to run. Thanks, and if ever you need a favor, just call me.’

As Andreas raced down the stairs, Yianni handed Manos his card and shook his hand. ‘The same goes for me.’ He looked out the window. ‘There seems to be a crowd gathering. I guess I better get out there to help my boss.’

Manos smiled. ‘Welcome to the neighborhood.’

Nea Filadelfeia gained its name and owed its roots to those fleeing the terrors of Asia Minor in the 1920s. Over the ensuing century, this northern suburb of Athens maintained its commitment to refugees and asylum seekers by supporting programs, events, and aid intended to benefit those seeking better lives. Along the way, it also developed a major reputation for its sports clubs, most notably for their international success in basketball, volleyball, and handball. But for generating sheer wild-eyed fan fervor, its AEK football team was what stoked the partisan soccer flames of Nea Filadelfeia.

Andreas came out of the building heading straight for a group of six late-teenage boys milling about the back of the marked SUV as if deciding what to do next. Across the street, just outside an entrance to the basketball courts, a larger crowd was gathering.

‘Can I help you guys make the right decision?’ said Andreas walking up to the back of the SUV.

‘Is this yours?’ barked a boy squeezing a basketball between his green Giannis Antetokounmpo #34 jersey and a chiseled forearm bearing the green and blue tattoo of a dragon-headed buck spewing fiery red flames on to an equivalently well-developed bicep.

‘Actually, fellas, it belongs to the Hellenic Police Force, something you should be able to tell from what’s written all over it.’

‘Then you should know better than to come into our house with the shit that’s on it.’ The boy squeezed the basketball tighter.

Andreas spread his arms. ‘Guys, you can’t seriously believe police are afraid to come into your neighborhood, no matter how hard-assed you might think you are.’

Yianni came charging bull-like out the front of the building.

‘We’re not talking about anything like that, we’re talking about this,’ said the boy, pointing at a bumper sticker on the rear of the SUV.

Andreas burst out laughing.

‘What’s so funny?’ asked Yianni, drawing up beside Andreas.

He pointed at a red and white sticker reading OLYMPIAKOS GATE 7. ‘They’re objecting to the bumper sticker.’

Yianni shook his head and laughed. ‘I agree with them. Olympiakos football fans have no place in AEK fan territory.’

‘Sounds to me like the vote’s in.’ Andreas reached down, tore the sticker off the bumper, and handed it to the kid with the basketball. ‘Here, I’m trusting you to dispose of it with all the dignity it deserves.’

The boy hesitated but took it. Nodding to his friends he smiled. ‘This bro is fire.’

A puzzled Andreas looked at Yianni.

‘You’re cool.’

Andreas looked at the six. ‘Thanks, guys.’

Andreas and Yianni watched the group merge with the crowd across the street and all head off together to the basketball courts.

‘I’d say we just demonstrated an exemplary defusing of a potentially ugly conflict while bettering community relations with neighborhood youth.’

Yianni nodded. ‘Not to mention banishing the unwanted presence of crazy Olympiakos football fans from our ride.’

Andreas stiffened. ‘One is still with you.’

Andreas turned on his phone. Almost immediately it rang. ‘What is it, Maggie?’

‘Where have you been? The Minister is hysterical. He wants to see you in his office immediately.’

‘I guess I made the right decision turning off my phone.’

‘Next time you decide to play hide-and-seek, let me know so I can turn off mine too.’

‘On a scale of one to ten, how worked up is he?’

‘Twenty-five. Same as the number of times he called me looking for you.’

‘Any other news?’

‘I refuse to distract you further. Just get your butt over to his office now.’

Andreas stared at his phone. ‘She hung up on me.’

‘Next time perhaps you ought to try practicing some of your community relations charm on those you work with. Especially those of us you consider no more than “back-office technical types.”’

Andreas walked around to the passenger side, opened the door, slid inside, and closed the door.

Once Yianni was in the driver’s seat, Andreas said, ‘Just get us to the Minister’s office, assuming that’s menial enough a task for you to accomplish on your own.’

‘No need to worry, Chief – I can always call for backup.’

‘Google?’

‘Like the Greek Freak’s fan said, “You’re fire.”’

FIVE

During Andreas’s time with the Hellenic Police, the ministry responsible for Greece’s National Police had gone through four name changes, the latest being Ministry of Citizen Protection.

The ministry’s various names hadn’t changed Andreas’s work much. What had a more direct effect on operations was the choice of minister. More than a dozen ministers had served during his years on the force, including his own brief stint in that position. He’d never wanted a political post but was convinced to take it on when the minister under whom he’d served the longest fell terminally ill and begged Andreas to succeed him to save the credibility of their ministry from the intentions of others seeking his position.

Andreas disliked being minister and couldn’t wait to get back to his old job as Chief Inspector of Special Crimes. Yet when he did, he found his tenure as minister had made his old job unexpectedly more difficult to perform.

Subsequent bosses felt threatened by him, even though he’d made clear to all that he had zero interest in serving again as minister, and all he wanted was for them to stay out of his way so that he could do his job. Fearing that Andreas might one day want their job, some tried to undercut his reputation, while others worked at setting him up to fail, but even those who took him at his word were somewhat uncomfortable in having a former peer willingly serve beneath them.

The current minister had served under Andreas as an assistant during his time as minister and regarded Andreas more as an equal than a subordinate, though both men knew who ultimately was in charge. Andreas expected today’s meeting to test the bonds and bounds of their working relationship.

The moment they walked into the Minister’s suite of offices his administrative assistant leaped to her feet from behind her desk and practically shrieked, ‘Andreas, where have you been? The Minister is under siege because of you and has been hounding me for hours to find you.’

‘Sorry about that, Dora, but I came as soon as Maggie reached me.’

She put up her hands and rolled her eyes. ‘Maggie and I go back way too far for that to work on me. Just get in there before he has a stroke.’

Through the intercom on her desk the Minister bellowed, ‘Dora, have you found that malaka yet?’

‘I think that’s our cue to go inside,’ said Andreas.

‘I’ll wait out here for you, Chief.’

‘The hell you will. I might need a witness.’

Dora pulled open the door to the Minister’s office, and with a flourish of her hand, said, ‘Gentlemen, after you.’

As soon as Andreas and Yianni entered the office, Dora abruptly closed the door, remaining safely outside the anticipated line of fire.

Mahogany paneling, understated Persian rugs, highly polished tabletops, dark brown leather seating, walls tastefully decorated in 19th-century lithographs, and floor-to-ceiling bookcases at the far end of the room set a no-nonsense tone.

Behind an antique pedestal desk positioned directly in front of the bookcases sat the Minister. He said not a word but pointed at two Chesterfield chairs across from him and waited for Andreas and Yianni to take them.

Andreas sat down, crossed one leg over the other, and folded his hands in his lap. Yianni simply dropped into a chair and rested his forearms on the padded chair arms.

‘Comfy, are we?’ said the Minister flatly.

Neither man answered.

‘So, tell me what’s going on. AND I DON’T WANT ANY BULLSHIT STORY ABOUT WHY YOU’VE BEEN DODGING MY CALLS.’

Andreas waited until the vein throbbing in the Minister’s forehead subsided. ‘I assume this has to do with our visit to Dimitris Onofrio in his hospital room.’

‘Are you suggesting there might be another reason for my considering busting you down to issuing parking tickets?’ The pulsing vein was back.

‘What precisely is the problem, Minister? Possibly as many as five people have died in a suspicious plane crash, in which it’s reasonable to assume Onofrio was a target of assassination. All I did was introduce myself as someone interested in any assistance he could give us in our investigation.’

‘It’s not your case.’

‘Well, then whose is it?’

‘It’s not yet been assigned.’

‘And why is that? The plane went down a week ago and Onofrio is the sole known survivor. He’s the most likely person on earth capable of helping us find answers for what happened and identifying who might be responsible.’

‘But he’s not just any survivor.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Let’s be realistic, Andreas. He’s about as connected as anyone in Greece, and he doesn’t want to be bothered by the police. So, we shall conduct no investigation until the AAIASB has completed its work.’

‘But what about the two pilots and two bodyguards who presumably perished in the crash? Don’t their families deserve a full-scale investigation into what cost their brothers, sons, fathers, and husbands their lives?’ Andreas felt his forehead pulsing now. ‘From what I saw in Onofrio’s hospital room, at this moment his only connections are to IVs, oxygen, and monitors. He’s in no position to say he’s bothered or not. Frankly, my guess is that those who don’t want him talking to us are more concerned for their health than his.’

‘How can you say that about his doctor?’

‘His doctor is at best a pompous ass. He’s no more qualified than any of us to claim he can read Onofrio’s catatonic mind.’

‘But he’s known him a lot longer and more intimately than any of us.’

‘Then he also knows Onofrio to be a ruthless killer with much to hide, and the notorious corrupter of prosecutors, judges, and our own police brethren. If that’s what’s driving the good doctor’s interest in keeping us away from his patient, I couldn’t give a damn what he thinks.’

‘Do you have any idea of how much heat I’m getting from some of the most powerful and influential people in Greece, screaming that you’ve callously victimized a deeply traumatized man?’

‘Actually, I’m not surprised,’ nodded Andreas, ‘but be sure to keep a list of your callers for when the day comes that we get the go-ahead to purge our society of those endemic organized-crime enablers who have our countrymen convinced no crime is beyond salvation through bribery.’

‘Do you have proof of any of that?’

‘You know the answer to that. And you also know I’m right. He’s beaten every accusation lodged against him, no matter the nation in which charges are brought, or the judicial venue asked to pass upon his fate.’

‘Aided by the mysterious deaths of nearly two-dozen witnesses lined up to testify against him for everything ranging from fixing sports events to drug-trafficking, racketeering, and murder,’ added Yianni.

The Minister looked at Yianni. ‘I admire your loyalty to your Chief, Detective Kouros, but if you want to continue in your career, I suggest you follow the orders of your superiors.’

‘And what would those orders be?’ bristled Andreas.

‘Stay away from Onofrio. Period. End of story.’

Andreas paused, nodded, and smiled. ‘Yes, sir.’

Andreas and Yianni sat in the ministry’s parking lot cursing the Minister. After running through the usual litany of epithets directed at a boss’s do-it-my-way-or-the-highway ultimatum, Yianni asked, ‘Do you think the Minister has been ordered or bribed to kill an investigation?’

Andreas exhaled. ‘I certainly hope not. He’s always been honest, but these days with the wild amounts being tossed around just to buy a single person’s election vote, who’s to say he couldn’t rationalize taking the life-altering amounts some of these fixers pay.’

‘Is that a yes or a no?’

Andreas shrugged. ‘My guess is the Minister thinks it’s useless to tangle with Onofrio in the current political environment, especially in light of his miraculously surviving the plane crash. The Minister knows what Onofrio is capable of, and the safe option is to sit back and watch the bad guys kill each other off over whatever vendettas the crash spawns.’

Yianni paused. ‘You never mentioned Lila or her father to the Minister. I thought you were worried about Onofrio seeing them as somehow responsible?’

‘I am, but considering the Minister’s attitude, I saw no benefit in raising that concern with him now. At best, I’d be giving him a legit reason for keeping me off the case, and at worst, ammunition for fueling a full-fledged media attack against Lila and her family.’ Andreas shook his head. ‘Make that our family.’

‘Do you really think the Minister would do that to you?’

‘Honestly, no. But if he felt compelled to protect me from someone seeking to discredit me for ignoring his order, he might just tell that person my reason. That person may not feel as constrained to ignore spreading the story. Bottom line, I felt better not mentioning it.’

‘So, what are you going to do now that you’ve been warned off the case?’

‘Don’t know yet.’

‘Of course you do,’ said Yianni.

Andreas pointed at the key in the ignition. ‘Just get us back to GADA.’

‘And then what?’

‘Don’t know yet, but I’ll figure something out.’

‘Let me know when you do.’

‘You heard our boss – you’re not doing anything about Onofrio.’

‘Yeah, sure.’

Andreas tapped Yianni on the shoulder. ‘Detective Kouros, that’s an order.’

Yianni turned and flashed Andreas a smile. ‘Yes, sir.’

Back at GADA, Andreas shut the door to his office, walked over to the pair of chairs across from his desk, swung one around to face the row of windows behind his couch, and dropped on to the chair. There was nothing much to see, what with an adjacent building having long ago taken away any worthwhile view, but Andreas’s mind wasn’t interested in scenery.

His thoughts were fixed on the middle distance, searching for a way to circumvent the Minister’s unequivocal ultimatum. Despite the sincere personal and professional regard each held for the other, the pressure on the Minister to keep Andreas away from Onofrio was intense enough to end the Minister’s political career if ignored. On the other hand, if Andreas abided by his boss’s ultimatum, his family’s lives could be at risk.

A wink-and-a-nod strategy would not work here. This was an irreconcilable standoff between legitimate personal interests that neither man could ignore.

Andreas saw no clear path forward. He shut his eyes, inhaled deeply, slowly exhaled, and sat silently for a moment. When he opened his eyes, he shouted out, ‘Maggie, get me Tassos.’

Tassos Stamatos, his mentor and close friend from Andreas’s police-chief days on Mykonos, reigned as Chief Homicide Investigator for the Cycladic Islands from its capital island of Syros. Maggie and Tassos had been an item since the moment Andreas unknowingly rekindled an old romance between his widower friend and the never-married Maggie.

Though Tassos was well beyond retirement age, he possessed secrets and connections from both sides of the law that guaranteed him job security for as long as he wanted. This wouldn’t be the first time Andreas had turned to his friend for perspective on how to overcome a seemingly impassable roadblock and, hopefully, it wouldn’t be his last.

The door to his office opened slightly and he heard Maggie’s voice. ‘Is this about some urgent professional matter or just for a bit of personal chit-chat?’

Andreas sighed. ‘What difference does that make? Just get him.’

The door opened wide enough for Maggie to step inside, hands on hips. ‘He’s at a doctor’s office, and I don’t want him using your call as an excuse for walking out on the appointment. You know how he is about doctors.’

‘OK.’ Andreas exhaled. ‘Just have him call me when he’s finished with his appointment.’ He paused and shook his head. ‘Sorry, the first thing I should have said was, “Is everything OK?”’

Maggie feigned a grin. ‘Actually, the first thing you should have said was “please.” But, not to worry. It’s a follow-up appointment with his cardiologist checking to see if everything is still working correctly.’ She lowered her voice. ‘However, to borrow a bit of language from your unnecessary apology, “Is everything OK?”’

‘Yes, all’s fine. I just have some thorny ministry politics to navigate, and I thought Tassos might have a suggestion or two.’

‘Please don’t get him all riled up and running around like John Wayne.’

‘There’s no running involved, just ducking. At least not yet.’

‘Fine, I’ll have him call you ASAP.’

‘By the way, what made you think something was bothering me?’

‘It’s simple.’ She pointed at the chair. ‘I long ago learned that when you close your door, start rearranging the furniture, and bark at me, something’s bothering you. And it’s usually personal.’

Andreas sat up straight. ‘Last night Lila told me almost the exact same thing but couched it in terms of one spouse sensing when things aren’t right with the other.’

Maggie smiled. ‘She’s right, of course, but think of it this way: I, as your assistant, spend more time with you on a daily basis than anyone else in your life, including your wife. For me, learning to read your moods is not a matter of wifely concerns, but pure self-preservation.’

Andreas sighed again. ‘Just get me Tassos.’

As Maggie headed out the door Andreas called out, ‘Please.’

‘How did your doctor’s appointment go?’

‘You mean Maggie didn’t tell you?’

‘Just that your ornery levels remain unchanged.’

‘Malaka.’

Andreas laughed, ‘May the rest of your test results be just as comforting in their accuracy.’

‘OK, now that you’ve gotten the obligatory pleasantries out of the way, what sort of office-politics mess have you gotten yourself into this time?’

‘If only it were that simple.’

Andreas explained how fallout from the Onofrio plane crash might threaten Lila and her family due to their ownership of the chartering company. He also described his meeting with Onofrio, then the Minister, and his orders to stay away from Onofrio.

‘What do you think?’ asked Andreas.

A full ten seconds passed before he heard a sound from his friend.

‘I wish I had something to say to lighten the mood, but this is a truly serious situation. I don’t have to tell you how dangerous Onofrio is. He wouldn’t hesitate to blow up a restaurant full of innocents just to get at a lone target of his anger. If he thinks Lila and her father are somehow involved, he wouldn’t hesitate to take out … I don’t want to even think, let alone say, the names.’

Andreas cleared his throat. ‘I don’t know if you agree, but I don’t see how my telling the Minister what I just told you would result in more than some compassionate words and well-intentioned promises from the Minister to do whatever’s necessary to protect my family. None of which will work against Onofrio if he’s committed to revenge, no matter how long it takes him to get it.’

‘I can’t disagree. Certainly not if the Minister isn’t committed to vigorously pursuing an all-hands-on-deck investigation into the crash. Something I don’t see him doing in the face of the pressure he’s under to do nothing.’

‘And even if he does launch a full investigation, I’ll never get his permission to participate once he learns that the outcome might affect the lives of my family.’

‘Hmm,’ said Tassos. ‘I’m not sure, but you may have hit upon the answer to your dilemma.’

‘Oh? Please, tell me!’

‘What if you’re not investigating Onofrio, but rather your wife is prudently seeking to protect her business and personal reputation by authorizing an investigation into the cause of the crash – independent of whatever insurance carriers or others might be doing. After all, their interests might not align with hers, and in light of the horrendous circumstances of the crash and the identities of the victims involved, it would be wantonly negligent for her not to do what must be done to fully prepare her company and family for the litigation onslaught to come.’

Tassos paused. ‘How’s that sound?’

‘I’m stunned. I’m not sure whether to take my hat off to you, or insist you be there when I tell Lila, “Rejoice, financial Armageddon is headed your way, but it may spare our lives.”’

Tassos laughed. ‘Don’t worry about the super-rich. In my experience they know how to take care of themselves.’

‘I’ll accept that without further elaboration, but I don’t see our Minister believing for a minute that I’m not involved in Lila’s investigation.’

‘Let him think what he wants; the fact is, she has every right to do precisely what I said, and if the Minister seeks to punish you for your wife exercising her legitimate right to undertake an investigation of the circumstances potentially affecting her reputation and fortune, he’ll be skewered in the press and vilified by many of the same self-protective society types pressuring him to stay off the case. His best response is to say that he can’t stop Lila from pursuing her rights, but he’ll crucify you if he finds out you’re involved in the investigation.’

‘That’s comforting. Especially since I don’t see how I won’t be involved.’

‘That’s between you and your wife – privileged communications. What you’re going to need, though, is an independent investigator. Someone who can figure out why that plane fell from the sky.’

‘I have a name. He’s a retired AAIASB guy recommended by someone working on the Board’s investigation.’

‘What’s the name?’

‘Niko Reichardt.’

‘No!’

‘I take that to mean you know him.’

‘Know him? We spent summers together as school kids on Syros. His yia-yia lived in the same village where I grew up. Haven’t seen him in years. But I did get to work with him on a suspicious helicopter crash a dozen years back. It turned out to be a homicide. He’s first-rate. Have you spoken with him?’

‘Not yet.’

‘Let me talk to him. He might be more amenable to getting involved if I reach out to him.’

‘Whoa, I don’t want to get you caught up in this. The Minister is your boss too.’

‘But he’s not told me to stay away.’

‘That won’t matter once he finds out that I put you up to reaching out to Reichardt.’

‘You didn’t.’

‘Huh?’

‘Lila did.’

‘You really think that’s going to fly?’

‘That’s my worry, not yours. Just tell Lila I’ll get back to her after I speak to Niko. Bye.’

Andreas held on to his mobile for a moment before putting it down on his desk. He stared at the chair in front of him, still turned facing the windows.

‘Thanks for the assist, dear chair.’

SIX

Niko Reichardt was born and raised in the largely non-residential Athens suburb of Elliniko, four miles south of Athens proper and just west of Glyfada. Today, Glyfada serves as the commercial heart of the ‘Athens Riviera,’ a strip of wealthy suburban enclaves featuring seafront residences rivaling the most opulent in Europe. A reputation not fully shared by Elliniko, despite recent efforts by developers to achieve precisely that.

Elliniko is better known for its long history of serving as home to military and civilian air facilities, commencing in 1938 with the construction of Kalamaki Airport, soon occupied by the German Luftwaffe. Following World War II, Greece permitted the US to maintain an air base in Elliniko, known as Hellenikon Air Base, and the US did so until closing its facilities in 1993 at the conclusion of the Cold War.

National and international non-military aeronautical services continued to operate there as an international airport until 2001, when air operations moved to Eleftherios Venizelos International Airport twelve miles east of central Athens.

Niko grew up during the US Air Force’s dominating presence in Elliniko, surrounded day and night by the fascinating sights and sounds of all manner of aircraft. He would hang around the runway security fencing for hours, waiting for planes to land and take off. American airmen soon took a fancy to the scrawny neighborhood kid, not yet ten, who would challenge them with the claim that he could identify any plane landing or taking off simply from its sounds. The wager meant chocolate for him from the PX should he win, and a spit-and-polish shoeshine from him should he lose.

Niko proved such a consistent winner that a flourishing side-bet bookmaking operation developed around him.

Rarely did Niko go home without a load of chocolates, and if by some chance he lost, never did he shine a shoe. The bookmaker covered his losses, because Niko’s time was far too valuable a moneymaker to be wasted on spit and polish.

By the mid-1960s, while still in his early teens, Niko’s reputation had attained near-legendary status on the base and he no longer went home with mere chocolates, but with a slice of the bookmaker’s vigorish. Rumor had it he could detect and identify a hummingbird’s flutter from fifty meters away, and as crazy as that sounded, none dared bet against the possibility.

One day, two new faces showed up at the quiet place outside the security fencing where each day before and after school he’d practice his magic. New faces never bothered him; once he put on his blindfold, he entered an otherworldly, laser-focused trance, not unlike that of the Oracle of Delphi – sans hallucinogenic assistance.

The bookmaker, though, kept casting anxious glances at the new faces. Niko couldn’t imagine why. It wasn’t as if local police were likely to raid penny-ante betting involving a local kid taking American airmen’s money for betting against his claim to know their planes better than they did. If anything, Greek police likely would be proud of him. Besides, his uncle was a cop. No, the bookmaker must be nervous for another reason. Perhaps he recognized the new men. So what if he did?

The action started out routine and continued on predictably. He would blindfold himself, wait for a plane to land or take off, and identify it from what he heard. This afternoon he’d so far identified a private plane, then another, then an unscheduled military transport followed by a fighter jet. He was getting bored. After each successful identification he’d take off his blindfold, drink a sip of water, and wait until the bookmaker told him to put on the blindfold and prepare for the next plane.

Shortly after Niko identified the fighter jet, the shorter of the two new faces spoke up and asked to increase the betting limit to twice the total amount he’d wagered up until then – and lost.

The bookmaker huddled with Niko and said it sounded like a setup. Something wasn’t right about this.

Niko shrugged and told him to do what he wanted.

He took the bet, and Niko put on his blindfold.

Everyone stood silently waiting for the next plane to land.

Minutes passed, with no plane. Then far off something sleek, black, and silent approached the runway. It looked more to be gliding than flying.

The bookmaker bit nervously at his lip while the bettor smiled.

The plane touched down and slowly came to a stop. Niko said nothing.

‘I’m waiting to hear what you have to say, kid,’ chirped the bettor.

‘Would you like to double your bet, sir?’

‘What?’ said the bookmaker.

‘Don’t worry,’ said Niko, ‘he’s not confident enough to do it.’

‘The hell I’m not,’ barked the bettor.

‘Please, sir, watch your language,’ said Niko.

The bookmaker sighed. ‘OK, Niko, you’re covered.’

‘Enough with the talk. Either identify the plane or pay me off on my bet.’

Niko shrugged. ‘I must admit it was a bit challenging. I’ve rarely seen let alone heard such a top-secret plane so I thank you for likely arranging this opportunity. That was quite a risk to take with such an expensive plane simply to win a bet with a teenager.’

The bookmaker winced, ‘Please don’t tell me you can’t identify it?’

Niko continued, still wearing his blindfold. ‘However, the drag involved in attempting to land this single-engine plane without engine assistance produces a pronounced destabilizing flutter that can only mean it’s a Dragon Lady.’

The bookmaker’s voice cracked: ‘What the hell is a Dragon Lady?’

The tall man standing next to the bettor smiled. ‘It’s an American single-engine, high altitude reconnaissance aircraft better known as the Lockheed U-2.’

‘My compliments, son,’ said the bettor. ‘I’m chief of maintenance operations at the base and when I told my boss, the Colonel here,’ pointing at the tall man, ‘that the stories about you could not possibly be true, he suggested we put you to a test. And you just passed it.’

‘Brilliantly, I might add,’ said the Colonel. ‘So much so that I’d like to speak to your parents about the possibility of you coming to work for the United States Air Force as an engine mechanic trainee. We need qualified people, and you have skills that cannot be taught.’

And so began a life-long friendship between Niko Reichardt and the then-commander of Hellenikon Air Base. Niko remained at the base until it closed in 1993, rising to the post of Chief of Air Maintenance Operations and attaining American citizenship in the process. When the base closed, Niko drew upon his extensive knowledge and first-hand experience to launch a new career culminating in garnering an international reputation as the dean of Greek aeronautical accident investigations.

Through it all, Niko remained living in Elliniko, though now in a neighborhood closer to his beloved Glyfada Golf Club of Athens. The Colonel had sponsored him for membership shortly after its creation in 1966, and shortly after, golf became Niko’s passion. To it he brought the same dedication and focus as he did to his professional life. The once scrawny kid had grown up and filled out, developing power and skills to match. There was barely a member of the club who hadn’t fallen victim to underestimating Niko’s golf game. Betting against him still proved the losing way to go.

When Tassos called his childhood buddy for a face-to-face meeting, he gave no details other than to say they needed to speak ASAP. That’s how Tassos, who’d never played a hole of golf, ended up agreeing to meet Niko the next morning at his club. It was a geographically undesirable locale for a resident of the island of Syros, but at least it meant he’d get to spend the night at Maggie’s place in Athens.

And possibly even the next one too.

Literally butting up against the southern end of the abandoned airport sat the Glyfada Golf Club of Athens, the oldest golf course in Greece and the only one in Athens. At nearly sixty years of age, and comprised of approximately 530 acres of golf course, it came as no surprise that upkeep and maintenance were constant topics of discussion and criticism directed at the regional municipality responsible for tending to its care.

That said, different if not better days might not be far away, courtesy of its longtime airport neighbor to the north. The former airport property was about to be transformed from the ground up by developers promising to create a multi-use, smart-city development twice the size of New York City’s Central Park. Plans called for 10,000 upmarket homes and apartments, a green space claimed to be the biggest coastal park in Europe, world-class high-end shopping, and all the expected accoutrements for serving the wants and needs of the super-rich and those who wished to behave as if they were.

Tassos hadn’t been to the old airport in years and found it hard to believe the government had taken more than two decades to capitalize on what many claimed to be the most valuable parcel of land in all of Europe. He suspected the golf club’s current owners shared those thoughts. He wondered what Niko thought of the new project but decided that could be a touchy subject to raise with a lifelong Elliniko resident and golf fanatic.

What Tassos hadn’t counted on was Niko arranging for them to have their private conversation while walking the golf course, with Niko playing a round and Tassos tagging along as what Niko called his ‘kibitzer.’

‘Two old friends out on the course chatting away while one plays and the other strolls along for exercise isn’t as suspicious as the two of us sitting around in the restaurant or locker room speaking in hushed tones.’

‘Walking? I thought you guys used motorized golf carts?’

‘Some do but I don’t.’

Tassos grumbled, ‘And if we used one, that would raise suspicions over why you’re suddenly riding in a cart.’

Niko smiled. ‘I see you still have your sharp detecting skills.’

‘So sharp, in fact, that if I didn’t know that you’ve never met my lady friend, Maggie, I’d swear she put you up to this as a way of getting me to take more exercise.’

Niko’s smile ran into a laugh. ‘How’s that going? I’m surprised you haven’t made an honest woman of her yet.’

‘Me? You’re asking me that question? At least I was married once. You, my friend, have never taken the leap.’

‘Never found the right one. Besides, I have my golf game. And no jokes, please, on that straight line. I can assure you I’ve heard them all.’

‘I bet.’ Tassos paused. ‘On second thought, I take that back, I won’t dare bet against you.’

‘Ah, yes, my old reputation returns to haunt me.’

‘And hopefully to help me.’

‘Let’s wait until I tee off before hearing what’s on your mind. I don’t want to be distracted and blow my drive. Some club members like to watch who’s teeing off on the first hole,’ he winked at Tassos, ‘and I do have a reputation to maintain.’

Tassos waited until Niko had completed the first hole and teed off on the second. ‘Is it safe to talk now?’

‘Sure, fire away.’

‘Considering the subject I’m about to raise, that’s an ominous suggestion.’

Niko kept walking but swung his head around to look at Tassos. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘It concerns Dimitris Onofrio.’

Niko turned his head back in the direction he was walking, pulling his golf bag behind him. ‘Which I assume, since you’re speaking with me, has to do with the circumstances of his plane crash.’

‘Both as to how it happened and how he survived while everyone else perished.’

‘Why all the cloak and dagger? It seems a routine, legitimate investigation for the police to conduct.’

‘One would think so, but with Onofrio involved, things are never routine.’

Niko stopped by his ball, selected a club from the bag on his cart, and took his shot. ‘So, who’s at risk that has the Greek police so jittery?’

‘A lot of people. Some good, some bad, some guilty, some innocent. We need someone to sort out the responsible from the not before a lot of innocents are harmed, if not killed.’

‘That’s a pretty heavy load you’re looking to put on me.’

‘Only because I know you can carry it.’

Niko grinned. ‘I see you’re a believer in “flattery gets you everywhere.” But at this point in my life that’s not going to get me to jump back into the game.’

Tassos smiled. ‘It was worth a shot. But actually, I was hoping to appeal to your reputation for taking on seemingly impossible challenges. And this one I suspect would be among the greatest challenges of your career. Second only to getting me to walk this golf course.’

‘We’re only on the second of eighteen holes, so you’ve got a lot of time to convince me why I should take this on.’

‘Well, how about if I start out by telling you the name of who wants to hire you to conduct the investigation, and all the facts I know so far? I will, however, need your commitment to hold what I’m about to tell you in confidence whether or not you agree to take on the investigation.’

Niko nodded. ‘Sounds fair to me, and at my advanced age I have the advantage of honestly saying “I don’t recall” to many things asked of me.’

Tassos smiled. ‘As I said, I wouldn’t bet against you.’

By the time they reached the ninth hole Tassos had shared all that he knew, including what Andreas had learned from Christos Vlahous of LV Lines and Manos of AAIASB, as well as the Minister’s order directing Andreas to stay away from Onofrio and refusing to institute a police investigation until after the AAIASB has completed its investigation.

‘I assume that if I agree to take on the project, you’re not to be involved.’

‘Correct. Your contact is Lila Vardi.’ Tassos paused. ‘But if you feel the need for me to join you in another round of golf, don’t hesitate to give me a shout.’

‘You make this sound like some old-time CIA operation run through my old air base.’

‘How’d they work out?’

‘Don’t ask.’

‘Oh.’

‘Don’t worry, all’s not lost. And just to cheer you up, unless you’re interested in continuing our chat, we can end this after the ninth hole without raising suspicion.’

‘I can live with that.’

‘One more thing, please tell Ms Vardi to expect my call, because I have the sense she doesn’t know anything about your proposal.’

‘You’re not so bad a detective yourself,’ said Tassos waving his finger at Niko. ‘I’ll call you once I’ve confirmed she’s on board by thanking you for this scintillating round of golf.’

Niko shook his head and smiled. ‘Like I said – CIA.’

‘What are you doing home at this hour on a weekday?’ said Lila, clearly surprised to have her husband appear in the middle of the afternoon at the doorway to her study. ‘If you mean to surprise the children, they won’t be home from school for another hour.’

Andreas stood quietly in place, smiling at the image of his wife busily at work at her desk, framed Madonna-like in light streaming down from the floor-to-ceiling vista of the Parthenon captured in the lightly curtained window behind her.

‘I know,’ he said, walking to a chair across from her desk. ‘That’s why I stopped by now.’ He sat. ‘I didn’t want us distracted.’

Sounding rushed, Lila said, ‘I hope your intentions aren’t amorous, because I’m a bit busy at the moment preparing for a Zoom meeting in a half-hour with the museum’s board of trustees over our upcoming annual fundraiser.’

‘Nope, I wish they were. Maybe later?’

‘Get to your point, dear husband.’

‘All right. I just met with Tassos and he’s arranged for one of the best aviation-accident investigators in the business to look into the plane crash, but the investigator won’t proceed until he knows you’ve agreed to use him.’

‘What’s his name?’

‘Niko Reichardt.’

‘I’ve never heard of the man, but I suspect you didn’t think I would. Why do I sense there’s something more you want to tell me?’

Andreas paused. ‘The Minister’s been under a lot of pressure to keep the ministry away from the accident and he expressly warned me not to dare get involved with Onofrio.’

Her voice rose in timbre. ‘How can he do that? You’re my husband. Doesn’t he know of my family’s connection to the plane?’

‘Um, actually, not that I know of.’

‘Well, we need you. My family, our children, we need you involved.’

Andreas leaned in across the desk and softly said, ‘And I want to be involved. And I intend to be involved, but unofficially.’ He paused and waited to ensure Lila was listening. ‘For the time being, I prefer that the link to your family remains undisclosed. There are too many loose tongues at the ministry. A tipster tying your family’s name to the crash would score points with the media for the tip.’

She briskly asked, ‘What is investigator Reichardt’s plan?’

‘I don’t know if he has one yet, but Tassos told him we want to know why the plane crashed and how Onofrio ended up as the only survivor. Our problem now is logistical. Because the Minister has expressly ordered me to stay away from Onofrio, I can’t risk direct contact with Niko, and using Tassos as an intermediary won’t cut it with the Minister. That leaves all communications to go through you.’

Lila starred at him. ‘Me? How many times have you forbidden me to get involved in your cases?’

‘And how many times have you not listened to me?’ Andreas shook his head. ‘I hate the idea of involving you in this, but the truth is, you and your father are already involved and potential targets of Onofrio.’ Andreas waited to catch his wife’s eyes. ‘I believe this is our best way of protecting our family. Should word get out that Reichardt is working for you, no one – including the Minister – could justly challenge your legitimate interest in getting to the bottom of what happened to your company’s plane. See?’

She nodded.

‘To be fair, that was Tassos’s insight, not mine. But he’s right. Are you up to this?’ he asked.

Another nod.

Andreas patted the top of Lila’s desk. ‘I’ll tell Tassos. And don’t worry. I’ll be with you every step of the way. I just can’t be directly involved in the investigation.’

‘But I’ll need to talk to you about everything.’

‘For sure. And since what we say to each other is protected by the husband-and-wife private communications privilege, as long as we don’t waive the privilege, no one can legally force us to disclose what we talk about together. So, the routine is this: You and Niko speak, you tell me what he said, we speak, and then you get back to him with whatever we decide to tell him. Just be careful not to let him know I’m involved or, for that matter, that anyone other than you is dealing with matters related to your company.’

‘Sounds a rather convoluted and silly way to do things.’

‘I could say that about a lot of the rules I come in contact with most days as a cop. But this time, one’s working for us.’

‘Couldn’t you have told me all this over the phone?’

‘Probably, yes, but with all the eavesdroppers and sophisticated listening equipment out there these days, I didn’t want to risk us being a surveillance target. At least not for the moment.’

‘You think this is important enough for our phones to be tapped?’

‘For interested parties on both sides of the law, absolutely.’

Lila looked down at her desktop. ‘What do I tell my father?’

‘Let’s see how things play out first. For now, say nothing. As far as I can tell, he has no information that would help the investigation beyond what he’s already told me. Let’s just keep things among the four of us. You, me, Tassos, and Reichardt.’

‘Is Mr Reichardt expecting me to call him?’

‘No, he’ll call you. Tassos gave him your number. According to Tassos, he’s savvy and won’t ask you anything that would compromise you if overheard.’

Lila sighed, then nodded. ‘What else will he need from me?’

‘For now, just an OK from Tassos to reach out to you.’

‘And later?’

‘I assume a fee.’

‘Of course. I mean beyond that.’

‘I don’t know.’

‘So, how should I let you know when we need to talk immediately about Niko if I can’t do it over the phone?’

Andreas grinned. ‘Just call me and say, “Darling I need you.”’

Lila rolled her eyes. ‘We need something more believable.’

‘OK, then call me and when I say “hello,” hang up on me.’

‘That works.’

Andreas laughed. ‘So, it’s a go?’

Lila shrugged. ‘I see no better alternative. When can I expect to hear from him?’

‘Soon after Tassos gives him the go-ahead, I’m sure.’

‘But I have this Zoom meeting coming up.’ Lila looked at her watch. ‘In minutes.’

‘Not a problem, because Tassos said his friend is a fanatic golfer who’ll likely be puttering around some course for at least an hour or two more.’

She waved her hand at the door. ‘Get out. And take your silly puns with you.’

Andreas stood and smiled. ‘Sorry, they’re my handicap.’

‘OUT!’

SEVEN

‘Good morning,’ said the tall, trim, silver-haired man.

‘Yes, sir, how may I help you?’ said the perky receptionist.

‘I’m here to see Mr Vlahous.’

‘Do you have an appointment?’

‘No.’

‘Is he expecting you?’

‘I doubt it.’

Perkiness faded from the receptionist’s voice. ‘I’m sorry but Mr Vlahous is very busy and without an appointment he cannot possibly see you today.’

The man smiled and handed her his business card. ‘I understand completely, but I’m sure he’ll find time if you tell him I’m here to see him on behalf of Ms Lila Vardi.’

‘Who is Lila Vardi?’

Niko forced a smile and pointed to a sign mounted on the wall behind the receptionist. ‘Lila Vardi. As in LV Lines.’

The receptionist’s puzzled look quickly turned to one of concern. ‘Oh my, I’m sorry, sir,’ she said, standing up and heading for a door behind her. ‘Let me find him for you.’

‘Thank you.’

Two minutes later, Christos Vlahous emerged through the same rear door, all smiles. He headed straight for Niko, his right hand extended. ‘Mr Reichardt, what an honor to meet you, sir.’

Niko shook Christos’s hand. ‘That’s very kind of you to say, Mr Vlahous.’

‘Please, call me Christos.’

‘If you wish.’

Christos paused for an instant. ‘So, what can I do for you, sir?’

‘Is there a more private place where we can speak?’

Christos blinked. ‘Is something wrong?’

‘No, I just prefer having sensitive discussions in private.’

Christos nodded. ‘I see. Please, follow me.’ He led Niko through the rear door, and down a brightly lit narrow hallway of beige walls filled with photographs of planes and celebrities, and a floor paved in light green faux-marble tiles.

Halfway down the hall, he stopped beside a nondescript beige door on the left, opened the door, and gestured for Niko to enter first. ‘Please, after you.’

Inside were more beige walls and green faux-marble floor tiles, but no more photos of planes or celebrities. Instead, neatly framed, old sectional and world aeronautical charts of the Mediterranean region adorned every wall. Below the charts stood gray metal filing cabinets filling every bit of available wall space except for that occupied by a well-worn gray sofa wedged in between the cabinets along the wall opposite the door. A simple utilitarian wooden desk, a matching swivel chair, and two guest chairs sat in the middle of the room.

‘I haven’t seen many of these WACs and Sectionals in decades,’ smiled Niko, examining the charts. ‘Then again, if I had, any pilot relying on such long out-of-date charts would be in big trouble with me.’

Christos laughed and dropped on to the swivel chair. He pointed for Niko to sit in one of the guest chairs across from him. ‘This is my working office. When we’re entertaining clients or potential clients, we use an elaborate conference room across the hall.’

‘I must say, this is one of the neatest offices I’ve ever been in. Nothing piled up on top of the cabinets and, as far as I can tell, only a laptop and a phone on your desktop. Not even a pad of paper or a pencil.’

‘I’ll take that as a compliment. I’ve spent years training our staff that neatness is right up there with holiness. If you can’t be holy, at least be neat.’

Niko laughed. ‘I’ll try to remember that, though at my age I don’t think I’ll benefit much from the advice.’

‘Just so you don’t think of me as completely divorced from the old ways, I keep a pad of paper, pencil, and pen in my top desk drawer.’ Christos leaned forward. ‘And to be perfectly honest, some of these drawers look more like wastebaskets inside.’

Niko chuckled. ‘Happy to hear that. It makes me feel less like a dinosaur.’

‘Oh my,’ said Christos. ‘Where are my manners. I completely forgot to offer you coffee, water, or anything else you might like.’

Niko waved him off. ‘I’m fine. Thanks.’

Christos leaned back in his chair. ‘So, what can I do for you?’

Niko crossed his right leg over his left and folded his hands in his lap. ‘Lila Vardi has retained me to look into the fatal crash involving one of your company’s aircraft.’

Christos shook his head. ‘Terrible thing. We lost two of our own, in addition to two of Mr Onofrio’s most trusted bodyguards. Shook us to our core.’

‘I understand.’

‘Of course, you would. You have more experience with fatal air crashes than anyone in Greece.’

‘Have we met before? I’m surprised that you know so much about me. I’m not exactly a household name.’

‘You are to someone in the aviation business. When I first started out in aviation, it seemed whenever there was an accident, and I wanted to learn what went wrong in order to prevent the same thing happening on my watch, your name turned up as lead investigator. And now that you’ve retired, every time there’s a crash, it’s your face on television as the expert.’

Niko smiled. ‘Perhaps I should get an agent and write a book.’

‘If it’s your autobiography, I’ll be first in line to buy a copy,’ said Christos. ‘But if it’s about what brings you here today, I don’t think your client would be very happy with the sort of publicity it would generate.’

‘You’re right, of course. Besides, writing a book would take too much time away from my golf game. I’m better off making a deal to consult on a movie. After all, this story has all the elements of a major blockbuster.’

Christos squinted, as if not sure what to say.

‘Relax,’ said Niko. ‘I’m only kidding with you. No way I’d want my name linked to a public airing of this case. In fact, that’s why I’m here. Ms Vardi wants me to do what I can to keep the official investigation from going off the rails and setting off a major media feeding frenzy that would benefit no one but the sellers of the story.’

Christos’s face relaxed. ‘Good. We’re all on the same page. So, how can I help you?’

‘Let’s start with you showing me all the maintenance records and pilot logs for the aircraft in question.’

‘All of them?’

‘Yes, all. Plus anything written or recorded bearing on a potential cause for the crash or involving the crew of the aircraft on the day of the incident, including any conversations between the plane and ground control.’

‘My assistant Lefteris isn’t here at the moment, but I’ll have him get them together for you. It sounds like you’ll need a lot of space to spread out in and work.’

‘Don’t worry, I won’t invade your office, but you’re right in saying I’ll need a large space. One that I can secure when not there.’

‘We don’t have that sort of facility here.’

‘I think you might.’ Niko stood up. ‘Let’s take a walk.’

‘To where?’

‘That elaborate conference room you mentioned.’

Christos’s face blanched. ‘But we need that to entertain clients.’

‘Just tell them the room is being renovated. Your reception area is a nice enough waiting room, and if more privacy is required, I think your office adds a homey counterpoint to the sort of elaborate general aviation experience you’re offering the public.’

Christos shut his eyes and exhaled. ‘Why do I sense this collaboration will be neither easy nor brief?’

‘Let’s just hope it’ll be worthwhile.’

Onofrio’s second encounter with Alexandra was at another official government soirée, this time a cocktail party honoring the newly appointed American ambassador hosted by Greece’s President at the Presidential Mansion.

Alexandra, wearing a snug-fitting black cocktail dress, passed by two men chatting near the bar, when she heard, ‘My oh my, look who’s here tonight. My favorite lousy diplomat.’

She paused and laughed. ‘Ah, Mr Onofrio, I’m honored you remember me. And here I thought we’d started off on the wrong foot.’

‘Permit me to introduce you to the new American ambassador,’ Onofrio said.

‘Hi, David,’ she said. ‘Congratulations.’

The ambassador leaned over and kissed Alexandra on both cheeks. ‘In all the years we’ve known each other I’ve never heard you called a lousy diplomat before.’

‘It’s Mr Onofrio’s way of making a public show of affection. Deep down wherever his heart might be, he can’t get me out of his mind.’

‘I think you just mixed a metaphor,’ said the ambassador.

She put a finger to the ambassador’s lips. ‘Shh, don’t tell him. It will only confuse him.’

Alexandra waited for Onofrio to erupt.

But he didn’t. He smiled. ‘I see you’re just as feisty as the first time we met.’

‘When was that?’ she said, feigning bemusement.

‘The day that your heart leaped up in joy.’

‘Folks, I don’t think I’m needed here anymore.’ The ambassador shook Onofrio’s hand and, turning to Alexandra, said, ‘Call me as soon as you’re free. We have a lot to catch up on.’

Alexandra kissed him on both cheeks. ‘Will do. And congratulations, again, on your appointment.’

He nodded and quickly found himself enveloped by a large group of well-wishers.

‘So, how long has it really been?’ asked Onofrio.

‘Two weeks, three days and seventeen hours.’

‘Are you serious?’

‘Nope.’

Onofrio chuckled. ‘I’ve never met anyone quite like you.’

‘I’m sure you say that to all the targets of your affection.’

‘Don’t flatter yourself,’ he bristled.

‘Aha. Once more I’ve exposed the true Dimitris Onofrio. You don’t like it when you hear the truth, do you?’

‘As I said, I’ve never met anyone like you.’

‘I’m not sure whether that should flatter or frighten me.’

‘Why would it frighten you?’

‘Come on, you know how to read a room. I walk into a cocktail party packed with hordes of political sycophants anxious to make nice with the new American ambassador and not one of them dares intrude upon your tête-à-tête. Yet, the second he’s released from your presence, he’s sucked into a swarm of petitioners seeking favors.’

‘Why does that frighten you?’

‘It doesn’t, but perhaps it should. Maybe I should ask your wife.’

‘I’ll give you her number.’

‘Huh?’

‘She’s not here. She’s on a buying trip in Paris.’

‘Now I am frightened.’

‘There’s no reason to be.’ He placed his hand on Alexandra’s back and let it slide down her back to her butt, giving one cheek a gentle squeeze.

Alexandra turned her body so that her left side stood perpendicular to Onofrio’s center of mass. She leaned into him and whispered, ‘Don’t you ever dare do that again,’ and with her left hand grabbed his genitals and squeezed hard enough for him to yelp.

Nearby guests swung around to see what caused the cry.

‘Is everything all right?’ asked one man.

‘Yes, thank you,’ said Alexandra. ‘Something just went down the wrong place. But he’s not choking.’ She turned to Onofrio. ‘Yet.’

Onofrio nodded to the man. ‘I’m fine, thanks.’

Alexandra did not move. ‘Have I made my point?’

‘Yes,’ Onofrio said with a slight wince.

‘Good. Now take me to dinner.’

Their first dinner turned into a second, then a third and so on, until dinners morphed into breakfasts – but only after certain ground rules had been set. She did her diplomatic thing without interference and he did whatever he liked.

Within the year, he’d divorced his wife and married Alexandra. The only change to the terms of their arrangement was that Onofrio promised never to disrespect her by carrying on with other women in public. What he did privately was up to him and his hookers.

Both childless until then, within a year she’d borne their first child, a son. Two years later came a second son.

During all the years of their marriage, Alexandra stood steadfast by her husband, steering him into major national and international charitable and cultural donor roles – while prosecutors relentlessly accused him of heinous crimes against society, rooted on by a bloodthirsty press. Rarely, though, did the media mention Alexandra as anything more than Onofrio’s wife. Her continued diplomatic career seemed off limits to the press, and her colleagues never raised the topic of her husband with her.

How their marriage managed to work was a mystery to all who knew them. Shortly after the birth of their second child, an article titled ‘The Devil and the Angel’ appeared in Greece’s most popular magazine. The publisher claimed it to be the definitive inside story of the Onofrio marriage. The article was a tremendous hit and the reporter greatly praised for his investigative skills. A month later the reporter died on his motorcycle in a horrific hit-and-run accident. The driver of the other vehicle was never found, and no similar exposés were ever published. Anywhere.

The thought of spending a lifetime in a hospital bed likely had never passed through Dimitris Onofrio’s mind. He lived as one who assumed he’d live a long life of enduring affluence and power, bothered at times by government prosecutions and unforeseen business challenges, but not by anything he couldn’t handle.

Then again, it all could end quickly and unexpectedly at the hands of an assassin – a paranoia-inducing possibility that led Onofrio to amass and equip a world-class security detail charged with two responsibilities: one, to protect him, and two, to keep a keen eye on rivals who stood to benefit from his death and possessed the means for bringing that about. Whether or not a rival wished him ill, Onofrio’s first-strike reputation meant that none who met the criteria slept soundly.

His mercurial temper and often defensive responses to the most innocent of social interactions kept both friend and foe off guard. Whether he was mad, calculating, or both meant that rarely did anyone venture beyond flattery in normal chit-chat with him. And even on those occasions, many preferred to risk no more than a quick few words about the weather, allowing Onofrio to pick up the conversation from there.

The savvier souls in need of Onofrio’s attention knew not to raise an issue of importance or concern directly with him, but rather to enlist the aid of his wife. Alexandra was the one person on earth who had both his ear and the ability to shape whatever point one sought to make into the most presentable form for gaining his attention.

Many who knew Alexandra before her marriage believed the Fates had put her on the path to a diplomatic life in order to prepare her for life with her husband. The same skills that would have made her a sterling prime minister engaged in navigating world crises equipped her as the perfect wife for keeping her husband on course for life in civilized society.

With Alexandra gone, no one knew or dared think how he might react if he recovered.

Perhaps that explained why virtually no flowers or expressions of condolence had appeared at Onofrio’s home or hospital room. One would have expected tragedies of such unimaginable magnitude befalling the Onofrio family to have triggered an outpouring of bouquets measured in truckloads.

Undoubtedly, if Onofrio had died along with his wife, that would have happened. But by surviving, and given the unpredictable range of wild-eyed paranoiac reactions his enormous grief might yield, those who otherwise would follow proper etiquette to the T, feared doing anything that might lead Onofrio to question their motives for showing concern over his health and the passing of his wife.

No one pondered Onofrio’s state of mind more than Andreas, nor worried more about Onofrio’s potential range of reactions should he emerge from his catatonia. The most desirable outcome for those who feared him would be for Onofrio to die. Something that, no doubt, many prayed for.

But not Andreas. Praying for another man’s death, in this case leaving a six- and an eight-year-old boy orphaned – as well-off and cared for as they’d undoubtedly be, living with their mother’s distinguished Athenian family – was beyond the pale for him and riddled with unthinkable karmic horrors. Instead, Andreas struggled with how best to keep current on Onofrio’s medical condition and to position himself to speak with the man should he survive, all without the Minister’s knowledge.

Andreas was sat behind his desk staring out his office window when Maggie peeked in through the doorway. ‘Are you free, Chief?’

‘Until a miraculous insight strikes me, yes.’

Maggie closed the door and sat on the couch. ‘Tassos asked me to pass along a message to you from his friend, the accident investigator.’

‘I thought all of that was to go through Lila.’

‘He just wanted you to know, as his client’s husband, that he’s met with the people at LV Lines and so far they’re cooperating fully. He’s also spoken to Lila.’

‘That’s it?’

‘Yes. For anything more, he said speak to your wife.’

Andreas picked up a pencil and began tapping the eraser on his desktop. ‘Terrific. Everywhere I turn there’s another communication roadblock for me to negotiate. How the hell am I going to get to the bottom of this Onofrio mess before someone else dies?’

‘If I might ask, what’s your specific problem? After all, you’re who set the communication ground rules.’

‘I know, but it’s still frustrating. To begin, I don’t know if Onofrio is more likely to live than die, and if the answer is live, how long until he’s out of his catatonic state and well enough to answer questions. Not that any of that info will help me much if I can’t figure out a way to get him to talk to me that doesn’t send our Minister off the deep end and me into early retirement.’ He dropped his pencil on to the desk and ran his fingers through his hair.

‘You really are frustrated.’

‘You think? At a bare minimum, I need to know what’s going on in that hospital room.’

‘That’s all?’

Andreas frowned. ‘Please don’t be cutesy. I’m not in the mood.’

‘Me? Cutesy? I don’t think so. Would you like me to speak to a friend at the health ministry and see what she might be able to do to help you with your problem?’

‘I can’t be seen anywhere near Onofrio’s hospital room. And I’m certain any cops guarding his door have my photo and orders not to allow me in with him.’

‘Who said anything about getting you into Onofrio’s room?’

‘What am I missing?’

Maggie stood up. ‘One of my good friends works at the Ministry of Health as the minister’s liaison for nursing operations at Greece’s hospitals. If anyone can get you what you want on the QT, it’s my friend.’

Andreas stared at her. ‘And she’ll do that for you, no questions asked?’

‘After all I’ve done for her over the years? She damn well better.’

‘Dare I ask what you did for her?’

‘For starters, I introduced her to her husband.’ Maggie started for the door. ‘But she’s long ago forgiven me for that.’

Andreas burst out laughing. ‘Amazing.’

‘I know,’ said Maggie, closing the door behind her.

Andreas went back to staring out the window. God bless those who work in mysterious ways.

Andreas made it home just in time to catch Lila and the nanny giving Tassaki and Sofia their baths. He offered to help, something the children screamed yes for, but Lila soundly vetoed their vote, citing Andreas’s proven propensity for turning bath time into a no-holds-barred water fight leaving onlookers as thoroughly drenched as participants.

‘But I’ve reformed. I promise you I have.’

Lila was not moved. ‘I know you’re old enough to remember that American cartoon Peanuts.’

‘Of course.’

‘Well then, you’ll understand why I’m not about to play Charlie Brown to your Lucy promising him for the umpteenth time not to yank his ball away as he goes to kick it.’

‘Me? How could you possibly think such unbecoming behavior of your darling husband?’ said Andreas, winking at the children.

‘Just leave.’ Lila shooed him out of the bathroom with a smile and a wave of her hand, as the nanny hurried to close the door behind him – all against a background of the children shouting, ‘We want Daddy, we want Daddy.’

‘Power to the little people,’ Andreas quipped as the door closed.

Andreas smiled at the thought of what Lila would say to him should the children in their university years turn into anarchists. What did you expect after encouraging them as babies to protest for bathtub rights?

He headed off to the kitchen to choose a bottle of wine and wait for Lila to join him. He opened a bottle of red and set it beside two wine glasses on the marble-topped central kitchen island. He knew from Maggie that Niko Reichardt had reported to Lila on his first full day at LV Lines, and though Andreas had successfully resisted pressing her for details over the phone, he’d ultimately given in to his curiosity and left work earlier than usual for home.

The moment Lila entered the kitchen he poured her a glass of wine. ‘Here, I think you need this more than I do.’

‘I doubt that, though the battle of the bathtub toys did get a bit tense when Sofia’s rubber ducky was attacked by her brother’s dinosaur.’

‘Shocking,’ said Andreas, pouring himself a glass of wine, and lifting it up to touch her glass. ‘Yamas.’

‘Yamas,’ responded Lila clinking her glass against his and taking a sip. ‘So, do you want to interrogate me now, or would you prefer to wait until later?’

‘Whatever works best for you.’

She smiled. ‘I’ll resist the urge to watch you struggle through dinner wondering what Niko had to say to me.’

‘Niko? What happened to Mr Reichardt?’

Lila smiled. ‘Hard to remain on formal terms with such an old-time charmer as Niko.’

‘Perhaps that explains why he’s a confirmed bachelor.’

‘He said he just hasn’t met the right woman yet.’

‘Yet? He’s close to eighty years old.’

‘Actually, seventy-nine. But as he says, you’re never too old for love.’

‘Would you mind telling me how those personal details came up in a conversation with an accident investigator reporting on a plane crash?’

Lila shrugged. ‘I don’t know, it just did. It felt natural. Like I said, he’s charming.’

Andreas took a quick swig of wine.

Lila giggled. ‘Besides, I’m having great fun watching this momentary display of jealousy on the part of my stud of a husband.’

Andreas stared at her. ‘Why should I be jealous of a man old enough to be your grandfather?’

‘Yes, why should you?’ She giggled again.

Andreas exhaled. ‘OK, so what did he have to tell you relevant to the crash?’

Lila took a sip of wine. ‘He’s gone over all the documents provided to him by my company and asked the AAIASB for additional documents. So far, all the maintenance records and logs he reviewed show nothing out of the ordinary and everything to be in working order. But unless the black boxes are found, we may never definitively know what happened.’

‘How about a non-definitive opinion or even a wild-ass guess on what brought down the plane and how Onofrio managed to be the only one who survived?’

‘According to Niko, every crash is unique in its own way. In this case, it’s the rarity of not one, but at least two passengers surviving a high velocity impact at sea.’

‘Two?’

‘Yes,’ nodded Lila. ‘Presumably an autopsy will determine that Onofrio’s wife was alive after the crash, and with the bodies of the two pilots and two bodyguards still unaccounted for, he can’t rule out that more survived for at least some period after the crash.’

‘That seems hard to believe.’

‘I had the same reaction. He said some years back, a commercial jetliner flying empty except for a crew of four – two pilots and two flight attendants – was on a mission to rescue a hundred fishermen stranded in a remote Alaskan village. Three of the crew sat in the cockpit, while one flight attendant sat in the back of the plane reading. Descending through thick fog on what the pilots mistakenly thought the correct flight path for landing on a rural airstrip, the plane crashed into a sloping hillside miles before the runway. The careening impact ripped off the tail section, including the last two rows of seats, as the fuselage continued tearing across the hillside to a stop. Miraculously all survived, including the flight attendant who’d been sitting in one of the last two rows torn off the plane along with the tail section. When the three from the cockpit found their crew mate, she was injured, but alive; still strapped into her seat sitting off by itself away from the remains of the rest of the plane.’

Andreas shook his head. ‘I’d call that crazy luck or a downright miracle.’

‘Either way, that’s sort of what Nick was getting at. At this point, and considering Onofrio’s involved, he doesn’t want to venture a guess.’

‘Too bad, but I understand.’ Andreas exhaled. ‘So, any idea when he might be in a better position to offer an explanation?’

‘After he’s reviewed all of the documents, he’ll pay a visit on his friends at AAIASB and see what they think … both officially and unofficially.’

‘Unofficially?’

‘If they can’t find the plane, or more importantly the black boxes, that’s likely to be the only sort of conclusion there ever will be. “No recorders, means no witnesses,” were Niko’s exact words.’

Andreas paused for a moment. ‘Except for Onofrio.’ He smacked his hand on the countertop. ‘Somehow, someway, I’ve got to talk to him.’

‘But not tonight.’

‘Why, what do you have in mind?’ He grinned with a romantic twinkle in his eye.

‘No luck, sailor. The kids are both ready for bed and I promised you’d read them a story before they go to sleep.’

‘But why are they so quiet? Usually, they’d be hounding me like mad to do whatever you promised them I’d do.’

‘Don’t worry, I wouldn’t think of denying you that pleasure. I told them Daddy and I had something important to talk about but as soon as we were done, I’d signal them to come and get you.’

‘Signal? What sort of signal?’

Lila grinned, cleared her throat, and shouted, ‘Release the hounds.’

Charging down the hallway and into the kitchen came a raging duet of children screaming, ‘DAAAAAAADDDYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY.’

And just before being overwhelmed by his attackers, Andreas managed to send a grin to Lila: ‘Thanks for reminding me of what really matters.’

EIGHT

‘Morning, Chief,’ said Maggie as Andreas walked past her desk on the way into his office.

‘Morning.’

‘I left it on your desk.’

Andreas paused. ‘Left what?’

‘That thing you’re not supposed to ask me where it came from.’

Puzzled at first, he grinned. ‘Oh, that thing.’

Maggie followed him into his office and shut the door behind her.

Andreas sat behind his desk and looked at a thick manila envelope on his desktop. ‘It looks hefty.’

‘It’s mostly test results and monitor readings.’

Andreas rolled his eyes. ‘Thank you for sparing me the burden of finding out for myself.’

‘You’re very welcome,’ said Maggie, offering a partial curtsy.

‘So, what’s the bottom line?’

‘Their best guess is that Onofrio sustained severe psychological trauma so far beyond the realm of normal human experience as to manifest itself in stupor, mutism, and grimacing – three diagnostic symptoms of catatonia, a disorder that disrupts how the afflicted reacts to the world around him.’

‘Considering how ruthlessly Onofrio reacted to the world before the crash, I dread to think how much worse he could become now.’ He shook his head. ‘What do the doctors have to say about his three symptoms?’

‘There’s nothing in the records about what those symptoms mean, just that he’s exhibiting them. But I looked them up on the internet.’

‘Always one step ahead of me.’

‘This time, three steps. Grimacing is holding the same facial expression, stupor is when you’re awake but not responding to what’s happening around you, and mutism is when a person doesn’t speak.’

‘I’d say that fits with what I saw.’

‘There is a caveat to mutism that might interest you. Mutism does not affect one’s ability to hear the speech of others.’

Andreas sat up and slapped his hand on his desktop. ‘I knew it, I knew he could hear me. That’s why I’ve got to find some way to communicate with him.’

‘On that score, I should tell you that you’re also right about the Minister leaving strict orders with everyone on the floor not to permit you anywhere near Onofrio. And yes, your photo has also been distributed to the staff.’

Andreas’s face tightened. ‘I’d say our Minister is getting very close to a line he damned well better never cross. If he does …’ He let the thought drift off unfinished.

‘So, what would you like to do now, Chief?’

‘I’ll read through the file to see if it gives me any ideas.’ As Maggie headed for the door, he called out, ‘Please tell your unnamed friend that I’m forever in her debt.’

‘I will but she’s already given me thanks to pass along to you.’

‘Thanks for me? For what?’

‘For the dozen parking tickets you kindly arranged to have dismissed on the basis that they were incurred in the course of an official police undercover operation.’

Andreas dropped his chin to his chest, smacked his forehead three times, and said, ‘Remind me never to ask you that sort of question ever again.’

‘Whatever you say, boss,’ she said, leaving the office.

Andreas lifted his chin and stared at the manila envelope. He doubted he’d find that Maggie had missed anything, but since if the Minister had his way Onofrio’s medical records were likely as close as he’d get to the man, Andreas would scour them for even a hint of an answer to his questions.

He read every page twice but found not a single clue shedding a bit of light on what had happened to the plane or how Onofrio turned up on a rocky coastline lying next to his dead wife. The records were as Maggie had described. Test results and readings, nurses’ handwritten notes, and transcriptions of observations contemporaneously dictated by Onofrio’s doctors in the course of examining him. As much as what wasn’t there disappointed Andreas, that was to be expected; for only Onofrio knew what happened and he wouldn’t or couldn’t speak.

He put down the file and rubbed at his eyes. It was all such a boring read that Andreas almost felt sorry for Onofrio, lying confined to a hospital bed while one doctor after another droned on about his state of health into their recording devices without likely realizing – or caring – that he understood every word they said.

Then again, perhaps Onofrio didn’t mind, for at least it afforded him the opportunity of listening to a human voice that presumably cared about him.

A human voice … caring about him.

‘Maggie, get in here!’

She burst into his office. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Your girlfriend, the one with the parking tickets. How would she like an official police parking placard?’

‘What’s gotten into you?’

‘I have a way of getting to Onofrio, but I’ll need her help.’

‘What sort of help?’

‘I need to know if she can arrange for someone with open access to Onofrio’s room to regularly play him different recorded messages from me without anyone else knowing.’

‘Are you mad?’

‘I got the idea from the transcripts of his doctors’ dictated observations on his condition. I have this nagging sense Onofrio might be interested in hearing what I’m doing as a cop to get to the bottom of what happened to him and his wife.’

‘But you’re not authorized as a cop to speak about the crash.’

‘If I were, I wouldn’t need your friend’s help. It’s the only angle I can think of for getting Onofrio to at least think I’m working hard to get at the truth. I need to find some way to convince him not to add Lila and our family to whatever sort of revenge list he’s conjuring up. I’d really prefer he considered us allies at getting to the truth.’

Maggie nodded. ‘I’ll see what I can do.’

‘Thanks. Because if that doesn’t work, I’ll have to consider other options.’ Andreas shut his eyes and leaned back in his chair. ‘And I don’t want to go there.’

‘Hi, Manos? How’s everything going?’

Manos looked up from his bench. ‘Oh, hi, Mr Reichardt, everything’s fine. And you?’

‘No complaints from me other than at how quickly the eternal clock keeps ticking merrily along without regard to my wishes for it to slow down a bit.’

Manos smiled. ‘You look pretty good to me, sir.’

Niko chuckled. ‘You forgot to say, “for your age.”’

Manos smiled again. ‘Is there anything I can help you with or is this a social call?’

‘A little bit of both. I understand two police officers questioned you about the Onofrio crash.’

Manos’s face lost color. ‘Did I do something wrong? Honest, I didn’t tell them anything I shouldn’t have. I even recommended you to them.’

Niko patted him on the shoulder. ‘No, you did everything by the book and absolutely nothing wrong. In fact, they went out of their way to compliment you. And thank you for the introduction. After all, we’re all on the same team looking for answers to what happened.’

‘It certainly was a bizarre crash.’

‘Any more word on the recorders?’

‘Not a ping from either one. Surprising, if you ask me.’

Niko nodded. ‘Me too. As hard as the plane must have hit the water, it wasn’t hard enough to kill all on board, but was enough to knock out both recorders and their underwater locator beacons?’

‘I don’t see it,’ said Manos. ‘Black boxes are designed to sustain far fiercer impacts, and to generate locator signals that should have been detected by now.’

‘Agreed. So, what’s your take on what happened?’

‘The only explanation I can come up with is that separate antennas on the CVR and FDR were ripped off on impact, wiping out their ability to generate a locator signal.’

‘I hear you,’ said Niko, ‘but what are the odds of both recorders losing their antennas on impact?’

‘I got the same question from the two police officers, but I’ve a slightly more direct answer for you than I gave to them. I’d have a better chance of winning the lottery.’

‘Me too,’ smiled Niko.’

‘So, what is your opinion, sir?’

‘Something likely happened to disable those recorders before or during the flight.’

‘Like what?’

‘That’s a question right up there with what caused the plane to crash.’

Manos nodded. ‘That reminds me of something a wise, long-retired inspiration for me once said: “Monitoring instruments and cross-checking parameters is not something humans are inherently good at.”’

Niko smiled. ‘I’m not retired that long … if you’re referring to me.’

‘Do you agree that human error can account for much of the blame when humans are left to determine whether safety features are employed and working properly?’

‘Yes, but there’s another human risk possibility at play. An intentional effort to disable or circumvent the plane’s warning systems.’

‘You’re suggesting sabotage?’

‘Not suggesting, just raising the possibility. Have you ruled it out?’

‘Not yet,’ said Manos.

‘Well, don’t raise that bit of speculation with anyone quite yet, but do keep it in mind as you get deeper into the investigation.’

‘Certainly.’

‘And if you want to bounce anything off me, don’t hesitate to give me a shout. And please shout loudly. I don’t want these retired ears missing anything you have to say.’

Manos smiled as he reached out and shook Niko’s hand. ‘Old ears or not, you’re still wise … and an inspiration.’

‘Hi, Ms Vardi, it’s Niko Reichardt.’

‘Hi, Niko, and please, as I said before, call me Lila.’

‘Sorry, it’s just a force of habit drawn from way too many years working in the military.’

‘Trust me, growing up in an old Greek family environment had me well-schooled in adhering to all formalities attendant to proper introductions and courtesies of rank.’

‘In other words, we each were taught to know our proper place.’

She laughed.

‘Though I suspect, Ms Lila, that my position would be subservient to yours.’

She laughed again. ‘You sound like my husband, though he at least calls me Lila without the Ms.’

‘I can’t wait to meet him. It sounds as if we share a similar take on a lot of things.’

‘Could well be. So, what do you have to report?’

‘I met with a former colleague at AAIASB, and he and I have the same uneasy feeling about the crash.’

Lila’s voice tightened. ‘And what is that feeling?’

‘How could both black boxes be missing from a plane that crashed softly enough for at least two of the six on board to survive the impact? A logical and fair question to draw from that is whether someone disabled the recorders’ ability to be located by sonar. And if that’s what happened, it’s reasonable to assume that the person or persons responsible for disabling the recorders are also responsible for bringing down the plane.’

‘My God, could they be LV Lines personnel?’

‘Not necessarily, but the circumstances certainly raise that possibility.’

‘I can’t believe it.’

‘Yet we can’t ignore it.’

‘What do you suggest we do?’

‘That’s more in your husband’s bailiwick, but I’d say look for those with motives for bringing down the plane.’

‘From what I understand from Andreas, that likely includes most of Athens’s underworld and virtually every legitimate business owner who ever dealt with Onofrio.’

‘Obviously, the easiest place to start would be with Onofrio, but I understand that’s not medically possible at the moment.’

Her voice weakened. ‘No, not at the moment … nor likely at any foreseeable moment.’

Niko exhaled. ‘Sorry to have been the bearer of such disheartening news, but until we learn more facts, the circumstances surrounding the crash will remain suspicious.’

‘And of great interest to the press.’

‘I’d say so.’

‘So, what should we do?’

‘The simple answer is pray for Onofrio to come out of his trance soon … and in a mood to cooperate.’

‘My husband is going to love hearing that.’

‘As I said, I believe he and I share much the same take on many things.’

Lucky me.

Maggie stood in Andreas’s office doorway. ‘Chief, I have news for you.’

‘Good or bad?’

‘Does it matter?’

‘I’m about to head home and if it’s bad news I’d rather wait until tomorrow morning to hear it.’

‘Let’s just say it’s the news you wanted to hear. Whether you’ll see it as good or bad, I leave to your determination.’

Andreas sighed. ‘You win. Just tell me.’

‘It’s a go on your Onofrio podcast project.’

Andreas pumped his fist in the air. ‘That’s terrific!’

‘Here’s the plan.’

‘The plan?’

‘Yes, my friend and I have it planned out. See, each day you’ll need to compose and record a new message for Onofrio to hear that night. And you have to get those messages to Onofrio’s night nurse in time for her to transfer them on to her phone before she leaves for the hospital.’

‘Every day a new message? That sounds like overkill to me.’

‘Check with any psychologist friend you might have, and I’m certain you’ll hear it’s important to keep the messaging fresh if you want to gain and keep Onofrio’s interest, let alone create a relationship of trust with him. The nurse will play your message several times each night, but not overdo it because we’re looking to condition him to be looking forward to hearing a new message from you the next night. If you don’t keep things fresh, you risk him growing tired of your voice, possibly getting even as aggravated at you as I get aggravated listening to those whining TV voices repeating the same pitch over and over in an attempt to sell me something I don’t need or want.’

‘OK, I get that, but why the night nurse? Isn’t Onofrio more likely to be alert during the day?’

‘The simple answer is nighttime presents the least risk of detection. Too many hospital staff and unexpected visitors during the day. Nights are quieter and easier to control entry to the room. Besides, the night nurse is senior and savvy enough with hospital procedures to pull it off.’

‘So, what’s this going to cost me?’

‘Don’t ask.’

Andreas sighed. ‘When do we start?’

‘That’s the bad news. Now. That is, if you want your first message to reach Onofrio tonight.’

Andreas rolled his head from side to side. ‘Any suggestions on what I should say?’

‘Think about what you’d want to hear were the roles reversed. And whatever you say, keep it short, personal, and honest.’ Maggie paused. ‘In other words, just be yourself.’

Mr Onofrio, my name is Andreas Kaldis. I’m Chief Inspector of GADA’s Special Crimes Unit. I’m not speaking with you in my official capacity, but as a man who knows what it’s like to lose a close family member in a horrific and public way. My experience haunted me for much of my life, and likely still does in unconscious ways I suspect I do not yet fully appreciate.

I know every appropriate word of consolation to say, for I heard them all when I was eight years old. But I doubt whether repeating them to you now would bring you much comfort, because your wounds are too deep and too fresh, your mourning incomplete. Your mind is adrift, unable to focus on or fully process what is going on about you. But I suspect you can hear all that’s being said, which is why is I chose to communicate with you in this fashion: to help you free yourself from the shock that holds you prisoner.

I cannot promise my efforts will succeed, but I can promise to try my best. And to send you a new message each day.

Goodnight, sir.

Perastiká.

‘What do you think?’ asked Andreas after playing his message for Lila.

‘Have you sent it yet?’

‘I’ll take that as a “not much.”’

‘It’s a bit hokey for my taste. Especially the “goodnight, sir” touch at the end.’

‘Hokey works, as long as it comes across as sincere. I’m looking to draw Onofrio into wondering what my true agenda might be for reaching out to him. I want him thinking of my interest in him as a puzzle to solve. If that works, and my hokey words get him to spend even a small portion of his silent hospital days pondering the puzzle, I’ll have achieved my goal.’

‘What’s the goal?’

‘Well, Onofrio’s gut reaction to a cop messaging him will be that I’m trying to trick him and put him away. What I’m hoping is that his well-known paranoia drives him to obsess over other reasons I might be coming at him in this manner. It’s a long shot, but should he come to associate my voice with him ruminating over what else might be on my mind, it might just give me the edge I need to get him to open up to me about the crash once he speaks again.’

‘That sounds more prayerful than likely to happen if Onofrio is as brutally cunning as I’ve heard you describe him.’

Andreas nodded. ‘He is all that, but it’s worth the risk. Otherwise, we’re just sitting around waiting for him to come out of his stupor and launch a bloody, paranoid vendetta.’

Lila leaned forward. ‘I don’t know how to say this.’

Andreas blinked. ‘Say what.’

Lila reached out to take his hand. ‘Have you thought about the risk of a deeply paranoid Onofrio seeing your sudden interest in him as a reflection of serious, perhaps even suspicious, concern on your part over your wife and father-in-law’s involvement with the plane that crashed?’

Andreas squeezed her hand. ‘That’s precisely why I’m doing what I am. Sooner or later, Onofrio will learn that you and your father are behind LV Lines. He’ll also hear that more likely than not, blame for his tragedy falls upon the plane, its maintenance, or its flight crew. At that point any chance of having a rational conversation with a raging paranoid will be slim at best. What I am attempting to do is build a bridge to him – however shaky it may be – in hopes of avoiding otherwise unthinkable alternatives for addressing his well-known thirst for vengeance.’

Lila shut her eyes.

Andreas pulled her toward him and hugged her.

‘Should I ask what those unthinkable alternatives might be?’

He hugged his wife harder.

‘No.’

NINE

What bothered him most was the light. Light was always there, offering him no place to hide from its glare, no place to find deep sleep, no place to escape an endless loop of invidious memories, and no place to avoid self-generated questions plumbing his mind for answers he did not have but feared one day he would.

And then there were the voices. Some talked to him, some talked about him, some just talked. They were voices he recognized from other times and places, voices he recognized from this place alone, and voices he did not recognize at all.

But no matter what voice he heard; his reaction was the same: He did not want to listen to any of them.

The only voice he wanted to hear was his wife’s. But he knew he never would again.

When Maggie arrived at work at her usual time she found Andreas already in his office, with his door wide open. She stuck her purse under her desk and walked into his office.

‘I take it you’re waiting for me.’

‘What makes you think that?’

‘On the rare occasions that you beat me into the office, you’re usually sealed off from the rest of the world in a “don’t you dare disturb me” mood. Today your door’s wide open, and the only other person here is me.’

‘Fine, so tell me, already – any news?’

‘Nope.’

‘That’s it – nope?’

‘Chief, she just finished her shift at the hospital. Give her time. She’ll WhatsApp me as soon as she has a chance.’

He shook his head in disgust, picked up a pencil and began tapping its eraser end on his desktop. ‘This is not a way to run a potential murder investigation. Certainly not how to run one where others could die. And if one of those others should God-forbid turn out to be one of my family, that Minister is—’ CRACK. He snapped the pencil in half.

‘Hey, Chief, what are you doing in so early?’ said Yianni standing in the doorway.

‘Hoping for good news and looking for inspiration.’

‘Ah, the universal cop prayer.’

Andreas waggled his finger at Yianni. ‘You might just be the answer to this cop’s prayers, Detective.’

‘Uh-oh, that will teach me to stick my nose in where it doesn’t belong.’

‘That seems to be going around this morning,’ jabbed Maggie.

‘Enough with the jokes, you two. God knows how much time we have left until Onofrio comes to life and things get really nasty.’ He picked up another pencil. ‘And yet we’ve been ordered to avoid him like the plague.’

‘So, where’s that leave us?’ asked Maggie.

‘Up the proverbial creek without a you-know-what,’ quipped Yianni.

‘Not quite,’ said Andreas. ‘As I see it, there remains a conceivably worthwhile avenue to pursue. At least until the Minister gets wind of it.’ He began tapping the pencil. ‘Onofrio’s wife.’

‘His wife? What’s she possibly have to do with any of this?’ said Yianni.

‘Likely nothing, but she died in the crash, and who’s not to say she wasn’t the target? After all, she once was a high-ranking diplomat. Perhaps a foreign power looking for revenge, or someone in Greece fearing that what she knew could end up in a tell-all memoir, saw this as an opportunity both to end her as a threat and to send a message to anyone else out there who might consider crossing her assassin’s agenda.’

Yianni shook his head from side to side. ‘Do you really think the Minister won’t see what you have in mind as directly disobeying his order?’

‘His order was to leave Onofrio alone. We’re not investigating him, or the crash. We’re looking into a matter that potentially threatens the lives of Greek government officials everywhere. Think about it. If Onofrio’s wife was assassinated and the killers get away with it, who in Greece might be next?’

‘Likely us,’ deadpanned Maggie. ‘With the Minister pulling the trigger.’

‘Oh ye of little faith.’ Andreas turned to Yianni. ‘I want you following up on anything and anyone that might shed light on a potential motive for assassinating Mrs Onofrio, rather than simply dismissing her death as collateral damage in the assassination of her husband.’

Maggie piped up, ‘I can help you with that, Yianni.’ She looked at Andreas. ‘All that time you say I waste reading the gossip magazines is about to pay off.’

Andreas chuckled. ‘If you say so.’

A repeated buzzing came streaming through the doorway. ‘Whoops. That’s my phone.’ Maggie hurried off in the direction of her purse.

‘Do you really think this is going to pass the smell test with the Minister, or even if it does that there’s much chance of finding anything suspect tied to her? After all, she comes from a prominent family.’

‘But let’s not forget she married a true lowlife. Besides, what else do we have to go on?’

‘Your nightly love letters to Onofrio?’

‘A long shot, at best.’

Maggie walked back into the room looking at her phone. ‘She said she read your message to him four times last night without getting a hint of a response from him to any of it. But she also said he shows no response to anything, including injections and body massages to prevent bedsores.’

Andreas sighed and put down his pencil. ‘Like I said, it’s a long shot. Seems like I better get used to putting on a regular evening podcast. That means fresh material every day, if we hope to generate any interest in what I have to say. So, let’s start digging deeply into his wife’s background. By the way, from here on out, we refer to her only by her maiden name, Alexandra Boutsis.’

‘On the topic of digging,’ said Maggie, ‘you do realize, Chief, that the deeper and wider we dig, the more likely we’re creating a hole to be buried in.’

‘Oh, don’t worry, there will be plenty of room for Tassos to fit in comfortably with us.’

‘Tassos? What’s he got to do with any of this?’

‘Not sure yet, but once I ask him for help, I’m sure he’ll grab the nearest shovel and start digging like mad.’

Maggie sighed. ‘That’s what has me worried. But he won’t use a shovel. It’ll be a backhoe.’

Niko loved the sea. Had fate and his youthful fascination with planes not led him to a life in the air force, he’d likely have forgone his wings and opted for the sails of a navy man. To him they shared much in common, for each plied along currents and gusts, ever mindful of winds and weather.

He sat in a cafenion nestled up against the beach of his beloved Athens Riviera, thinking back to the days of his youth when all seemed so simple and predictable. That’s when he learned to thrive on routine and never took much mind of the post-World War II politics that wracked his country. Nor did he venture opinions on the junta that ruled his country during his twenties. For as long as he could remember, he’d ignored participating in talk of politics, an almost impossible feat to achieve as a Greek living in Greece, but it proved a practice well-suited to avoiding the ubiquitous, incessant posturing and polemics of the right and the left.

It also helped him avoid entangling romantic relationships. All he needed to do to end an affair was praise politicians or policies antithetical to his partner’s fervent political beliefs and, voila, the relationship inevitably ended. No fuss, no personal recriminations, no deep psychological analyses of what relationships require and why theirs fell short. It all came down to a simple matter of political difference.

Niko thought of it as his ‘chameleon approach’ to romance. He’d change his politics to suit the circumstances. It may not be a practice to be proud of, but then again, to him it seemed a far more civilized method for saying goodbye than the more widely practiced back and forth shouts and tears amid heated accusatory blame sessions. As Niko saw it, his way was also the kindest for he shouldered all the blame, freely admitting fault for having kept hidden what he now claimed to be his deeply held political beliefs.

That’s not to say he had no regrets. Niko surely did. But, on balance, his life had turned out far better than he’d ever imagined. How it might end was another story. His parents had long ago passed on, as had his siblings. But he had friends, and that’s what mattered most. And, of course, golf.

He took a sip of coffee and watched a kite surfer in a neon green and orange wetsuit soar up from a turquoise sea into a bright blue sky as if he were a bird riding the wind currents. Niko smiled. Here was a sport combining his love of flight and passion for sailing. He sighed. Kite surfing was a young man’s sport, too extreme for one of Niko’s age. Though not nearly as extreme a sport as that practiced by wingsuit skydivers who choose to dress like flying squirrels and leap from mountaintop heights in a race to the ground and a prayed-for soft landing.

Niko paused, put down his coffee, and took a small notebook and attached pen out of his right rear pocket. He scribbled a note to himself: CHECK ON CONFIGURATION OF GULFSTREAM G SERIES.

He put the notebook down, took another sip of coffee, reached for his phone, and dialed.

‘Hello.’

‘Manos, it’s Niko Reichardt. Am I calling at an inopportune time?’

‘No, it’s a welcome diversion.’

‘I was wondering if you had any news on the Onofrio crash.’

‘Not much. The autopsy report came in on the wife and confirmed she was dead for four, possibly five days before she was found.’

‘Does that mean she lived for at least two days after the crash?’

‘Yes, but no one knows how she did.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘According to the coroner, her cause of death was quite violent. So much so that she should have died instantaneously. It was as if she’d been hit head-on by a fast-moving truck.’

‘In the middle of the Mediterranean?’

‘That’s what my boss said to the coroner.’

‘Then again, hitting the water in a high-speed plane crash could equate to being hit by a truck, but if her injuries were that severe, how could she have survived for days after the crash?’

‘That’s precisely the question I asked of the coroner.’

‘Well done, Manos. So, what did the coroner have to say?’

‘He has no idea how she survived, only that the injuries occurred while she was still alive and not after death.’

‘Any theories?’

‘Not yet.’

‘Have your colleagues swept the coastline where she was found for anything that might tie into the crash?’

‘I can’t say how extensive their search may have been, but I don’t have to tell you the odds of finding anything helpful so far away from the crash site.’

Niko paused. ‘Well, if they find anything, anything at all, no matter how innocuous and seemingly unrelated it may appear to what we’re looking for, I’d appreciate your letting me know.’

‘How about if I do you one better and send you a copy of the inventory of what we’ve turned up so far. I’ll add to it if anything else turns up.’

‘That would be great. Thanks.’

‘No problem. Just one question, if I may …’

‘Sure, shoot.’

‘What’s on your mind? It sounds as if you’re looking for something in particular.’

‘I am. The only problem is that I don’t know what it is. I just sense there’s something out there that could answer a lot of our questions. Though from the way things are developing, whatever turns up could just as easily make everything only more confusing.’

‘Thanks for that.’

‘For what?’

‘For letting me know I’m not alone in feeling we may never know what happened.’

Niko sighed. ‘That’s always a possibility, but that’s a thought for another day. Today is one for playing hunches.’

‘Hunches?’

‘Yep. If you have a hunch, play it and let me know how it turns out.’

Manos cleared his throat. ‘As a matter of fact, I might have one.’

‘What is it?’

‘I’ll let you know after I’ve played it.’

Niko laughed. ‘You sound like a hustler. But I like that about you. Happy hunch-hunting. Thanks again for all your help, and goodbye.’

‘Bye.’

Manos stared at the computer screen, concentrating on the debris field area of the Mediterranean Sea where Onofrio’s plane was presumed by radar to have crashed. The search for its black boxes still focused there, as did efforts to locate signs of the downed plane’s still unaccounted for occupants, even though more than a week had passed without any such evidence turning up within the search area.

What made no sense to him was why the search had not shifted to a different area now that two of the six persons on board had turned up on a stretch of coastline nowhere near where the sea would have swept them had the plane crashed where presumed.

Niko’s words, if you have a hunch, play it, came rumbling through Manos’s thoughts.

But how to play such a crazy hunch? For starters, he’d have to convince his superiors to expand the focus of their search to encompass a significant area of coastline far beyond where the Onofrios were found.

And should his hunch prove correct, one thing was certain: Such a discovery would open a large can of worms that his supervisors would prefer to remain unopened, and raise a far more nefarious explanation for the crash than any that had been officially considered before now.

‘Tassos, it’s Andreas.’

‘Thanks for identifying yourself, but I’ve heard your voice enough times to recognize it without subtitles.’

‘Sounds like I’ve caught you in a particularly feisty mood.’

‘Feisty is a politically correct way of saying what I feel like,’ grumbled Tassos.

‘Well, don’t hold back on my account.’

‘If one more ambitious cop eying my position tries hustling me to put in my retirement papers, I just might have to recuse myself from investigating the SOB’s untimely, inexplicable passing.’

‘I take that to mean someone out there just fell off your Christmas-card list.’

‘Hey, wise-ass, don’t tell me you don’t have the same problem.’

‘I do, but not with the people who matter to me most. That’s why I didn’t stay on as civil protection minister when I had the chance. Too many sycophants plotting whatever it takes to further their ambitions at my expense. Smiles to your face and knives to your back.’

‘That’s why I carry a gun,’

‘And don’t smile,’ added Andreas.

‘OK, now that you’ve talked me down from the ledge, what’s on your mind? If it has to do with Niko, I’ve heard nothing from him.’

‘No, it’s not about Niko. He’s done a great job at keeping Lila up to speed. It’s about something else.’

‘Sounds like this is turning into a face-to-face-only sort of discussion …’

‘I don’t think so. It’s about another potential assassination target on the plane that went down. The survivor’s wife.’

‘Alexandra Boutsis?’

‘You know her?’

‘I know of her.’

‘Since I have nothing else to do, I’ve been wondering whether she might have been the target of an assassination plot that brought down the plane, with her husband and the others collateral damage to the hit on her.’

‘But why her? I can’t recall seeing much in the media about her after she married Onofrio. Then again, I had no official reason to keep track of her, and if I’d had a need to know, plenty of our brethren were keeping close enough tabs on her husband to bring me up to speed on whatever nasties could be out there involving her.’

‘What sort of nasties?’

‘Not a clue.’

‘Are you still in touch with anyone who might know?’

‘Off-hand, aside from our Maggie, whose knowledge comes from years immersed in the gossip rags, I can’t think of anyone.’

‘This is not my lucky day.’

‘Hey, don’t lose heart. I can ask around and see what turns up. Unless, of course, you’d like to do the asking.’

‘I’d love to, but once word gets out that I’m asking questions about Onofrio’s wife, it will get back to our Minister and he’ll bar me from doing any more of that, too.’

‘In other words, you want me to do your heavy lifting.’

‘Nothing too heavy, please. After all, a man of your age should be careful not to overdo things. Better safe than—’

Andreas stared at his phone and laughed.

The bastard hung up on me.

‘Chief, do you have a minute? It’s about the research Maggie and I are doing into Alexandra Boutsis’s background.’

‘Sure, what’s up?’

Yianni plopped on to the sofa. ‘It’s weird. Everything we read about her is positive. Not a bad word anywhere to be found.’

‘I guess that speaks to the efficacy of finding a hit-and-run driver to take out those who dare write nasty pieces about you and your husband.’

‘Yeah, I get that. I’m talking about something else. And Maggie agrees.’

‘OK, you’ve established your bona fides. What have you two found?’

‘Every bit of coverage, be it a story, article, or interview seems as if written by the same hand. Always complimentary, but with humor and just enough self-deprecating confessional moments to make her endearing to the reader or – on the rare occasions she did a video interview – the viewer.’

Andreas cocked his head. ‘That’s quite a skill.’

‘It certainly is. But there’s never a stumble, never a joke that goes flat, never anything but production perfection.’

‘Sounds like she hires professional help to do her writing and prep for video. Nothing wrong with that.’

Yianni nodded. ‘But it’s more than that. It’s as if someone gets to edit anything that’s written about her, even if it’s the most inconsequential mention.’

‘More evidence of hit-and-run solutions being more effective than angry letters to the editor.’ Andreas paused. ‘I know that’s not funny. But considering her husband, I’d say the hit-and-run bit was likely his choice of method for addressing bad press, and she’s improved things by coming up with a more civilized and diplomatic approach to dealing with the media. Can you tell when this curated press coverage began?’

‘Her interactions with the press before she married Onofrio were as brutal and slanted as anything our journalists write about anyone. But shortly after the birth of her second child, the tone of coverage began to change. These days her coverage is all done through cookie-cutter-style mass-produced media material glorifying Alexandra Boutsis.’

‘Perhaps she just wanted to elevate herself in society,’ said Andreas.

‘Lila would know more about that than I do, but considering her parents and family name, it’s hard to imagine how she could rank any higher.’

Andreas laughed. ‘Considering who she married, hard to imagine how it could get any lower.’

‘Good point. Perhaps she felt she’d messed up her reputation by marrying him and undertook a massive PR campaign to separate herself and her children from Onofrio, while still remaining married to him.’

‘Maybe,’ nodded Andreas. ‘Others have tried that approach with varying degrees of success. But I sense there’s something else driving her. What it is, I don’t know. After all, as you’ve described, it’s subtle promotion but very effective.’

‘So where do we go from here?’ asked Yianni.

‘Maybe Tassos will turn up something to explain what you and Maggie picked up on. I’ve asked him to poke around for any skeletons Boutsis may have dangling around in some long-overlooked or forgotten closet.’

‘The biggest skeleton in her closet is currently dangling in a hospital room. Hard to imagine anything significant occurring in his wife’s life that did not directly involve him.’

‘Whoops. Thank you for reminding me.’

‘Of what?’

‘My nightly message to Onofrio. It’s time for me to write one. Let’s hope this one works.’

‘What’s it about?’

‘No idea. I’ll just start to write and see where it takes me.’

‘Why did I even ask. You’re not a deliberative planner in anything you do.’

‘Nope, I thrive on the excitement of living life by the seat of my pants.’

‘As long as you don’t come up shorts.’

Andreas resisted a smile, pointed to the door, and said, ‘Out.’

TEN

Hello, Dimitris. It’s Andreas again. I hope you’re comfortable. I know that your nurse shares that hope. It’s why she’s playing this for you through earbuds. We wanted you to know that my messages are just between the two of us.

I understand that your wife’s funeral has been put off for a few days in the hope you’ll recover and be able to attend. I suppose the thinking is that attending her funeral might provide you with closure … though you and I both know that will not happen any time soon. It takes years to find your way back from such a catastrophic event. But please believe me when I say that, in time, you’ll find the right path for processing your grief.

I’m beginning to sound like a priest. A priest I am not. No more than you are. But I am a husband, I am a father. I cannot bear the thought of what life would be like without my wife … but then there are my two children. I know I would carry on, if not for me, then for them. I’d do it to keep alive the spirit and values of their mother.

But that’s far easier said than done. And, for me, almost impossible to imagine, especially lacking answers to how she perished and why. I sense you and I are alike on that score, and as you lie in your bed, your mind is searching for explanations. I too am searching, trying to find them for you. Perhaps together we can.

Perastiká.

That night, the nurse played Andreas’s message twice, two hours apart, and was launching a pre-dawn session when the door to Onofrio’s room swung open and in marched his doctor followed by three medical students. He did not acknowledge the nurse’s presence with as much as a simple wave or ‘good morning,’ but rather launched straight into a jargon-laden lecture on the signs of catatonia, its causes, and potential life-altering consequences.

The nurse faded back toward the doorway, tinkering with her phone as the doctor and his students surrounded Onofrio’s bed.

She’d almost made it out the door when the doctor shouted, ‘Nurse, what’s this?’

‘I’m sorry, Doctor, what are you referring to?’

‘These.’ He pointed to the earbuds. ‘Who authorized them?’

‘No one,’ said the nurse. ‘I did it on my own.’

‘How dare you make a decision affecting my patient without clearing it with me first?’

‘It’s only music. I play what I think he might like to hear, hoping to help him relax and come back to us sooner.’

‘That’s not a decision for you to make.’

‘I’m sorry, Doctor. No disrespect intended, but I’ve been dealing with patients like this gentleman for thirty years, and I think it helps.’

‘It’s what I think that matters, not you.’ He leaned in across Onofrio’s upper body and abruptly but gently pulled the buds out of his ears.

As the doctor put them into his own ears, he told the room, ‘Let’s see what you consider helpful …’ Thirty seconds passed. ‘What else do you play for him?’

‘I have a playlist.’

‘Show it to me.’

‘It’s on my phone.’

‘Give me your phone.’

The nurse swallowed. ‘I’m sorry, Doctor, but asking for my phone is an improper invasion of my privacy.’

‘How dare you talk to me that way?’

‘Because you have no legal right to examine my phone without my permission. If you want to see the playlist I use for your patient, here it is.’ She held up her phone to the doctor.

He barely glanced at the list. ‘Fine, just don’t play anything other than what you’ve been playing for him without clearing it with me first.’

‘Yes, Doctor.’

He handed her the earbuds and led his entourage out of the room without another word. When the door had closed, she drew in and let out a huge sigh of relief.

‘That was close,’ she breathed aloud. Then she turned to Onofrio. ‘I hope you enjoyed the excitement. Thank God that fatuous ass didn’t find the earbuds sooner. Gave me time to switch to my classical playlist.’ She leaned on the bed and sighed again. ‘Whew.’ After a moment, she reinserted the buds into Onofrio’s ears. ‘Unlike your pompous doc, this fellow Andreas sounds like a good man.’ She patted Onofrio’s forehead. ‘I know you’ll be back with us soon.’

Then she hit PLAY.

Tassos was midway through his regular early morning cafenion get-together with his Syros buddies when his phone interrupted a developing argument over whether current right-wing or left-wing members of parliament were more corrupt than the centrists. Tassos didn’t mind getting up from the table to take the call, because as far as he was concerned, with rare exception, politicians were all about the same. Only the packaging made them appear otherwise.

‘Stamatos here.’

‘Tassos, it’s Stelios.’

A broad smile crossed Tassos’s face. Stelios was his longtime first-choice source on skeletons in the closets of Greece’s high rollers.

‘Stelios! Great to hear your voice. Sorry to have sounded so formal, but for some reason your call came through without a caller ID.’

‘In my business, if my name shows up on someone’s phone, more often than not they don’t take the call.’

Tassos chuckled. ‘I guess that’s the price you pay for being Greece’s number-one source for the down and dirty on the high and mighty.’

‘The down and dirty on the high and mighty. I like that. It has a ring to it.’

‘Feel free to use it, you’ve earned it.’

Stelios laughed. ‘So, how’s my once-favorite cop doing these days?’

‘What do you mean your “once-favorite”? I thought after all I’ve done for you over the years, I’d be your absolute favorite for life.’

‘Well, that was before word got out that you’re looking for information on the late Mrs Onofrio.’

‘Technically I’m not. It’s Alexandra Boutsis that has my interest.’

‘An interesting distinction. Most would say one without a difference, for as we both know, Alexandra and Mrs Onofrio are – or rather were – one and the same person. We also know that offering non-sanctioned information on either could still incur highly unpleasant consequences, courtesy of their common husband.’

Stelios paused, but Tassos knew he wasn’t finished.

‘However, among those few of us who have been privileged to be included from time to time as members of the lady-in-question’s inner circle of confidants, it is known that the distinction you make is real.’

‘Elucidate and elaborate, please.’

‘I assume you’re interested because she’s dead and you want to know why.’

‘That and my girlfriend is big into gossip. I want to impress her.’

This time Stelios giggled. ‘I really do love you, Tassos. Just answer me this question: Is this about something that could get me killed if I told you?’

‘What I’m interested in shouldn’t have any bearing on your longevity. However, if you know something that you think might get you killed, feel free to keep it to yourself. After all, my girlfriend would never forgive me if I were the cause of her favorite Athens gossip columnist literally meeting his final deadline.’

‘Please thank your girlfriend for her interest in my well-being.’ Stelios cleared his throat. ‘So, what do you want to know?’

‘Tell me what you can about Alexandra Boutsis’s background and how she came to marry Onofrio?’

‘Oh, that period of her life is well-known and documented. Prominent family with a brilliant daughter and two not-so-brilliant sons, family wanted her to marry well, she wanted a life in government aiming to be prime minister someday, created a first-rate name for herself in the Foreign Service but couldn’t find the right rabbi to help her maneuver her way through the palace intrigues orchestrated by other families with children sharing the same goals. So, as her child-bearing years closed in on her, she decided to pack in her dreams of a career in politics and marry Onofrio.’

‘But why would someone with such a classy pedigree marry someone like Dimitris Onofrio?’

‘I guess the same question could be asked about why Jackie Kennedy married Onassis?’

‘And what would be the answer to that?’

‘Likely the same as for Alexandra. She wanted someone with the means to protect her privacy in exotic splendor while providing ready access to the high-end lifestyle she was used to living.’

‘What can you tell me of her life after marriage?’

‘She had two kids and raised them to be more like her than their father.’

‘How did that turn out?’

‘Interestingly. She and her husband did not live a separate-bedrooms sort of life. He truly loved her, and I believe she showed him the same respect and support in private as she did in public.’

‘That sounds like exactly the sort of thing she’d want to keep secret. Professing respect and support for a drug-dealing ruthless killer strikes me as leading to nothing but bad press.’

‘Uh, I do not wish to characterize or judge the behavior of my friends. You’ve asked for my opinion on Alexandra and I’m giving it to you.’

‘Sorry, no offense intended. You just surprised me with your characterization of their marriage.’

‘Had she lived, you would have undoubtedly witnessed greater surprises.’

‘OK, Stelios, you’ve roped me in. What greater surprises?’

Tassos heard a great sigh.

‘You’ve got to promise me you won’t ever say where you heard this.’

‘You have my word.’

Another sigh. ‘She was planning on getting back into politics, running for parliament, and achieving her childhood goal of becoming prime minister.’

‘As Onofrio’s wife? How could she possibly think there was any possibility of that happening with him as her husband?’

‘My dear Tassos. Are you living in a cave on Mount Athos? Have you looked at the leaders of today’s western democracies? One’s worse and more ruthless than the next. And yet they get elected and re-elected.’

‘Jeez, Stelios.’

‘Look at it this way. At least we’re not getting Onofrio as the candidate, though an argument can be made that he’s more polished than many current world leaders – thanks to Alexandra’s influence, by the way.’

‘But didn’t she understand that all her husband’s mud would be slung at her?’

‘Of course she did, but the question was how much, if any, would stick to her. It’s a risk she’s long recognized and why she spent the past few years carefully assembling a first-rate public-relations operation designed to clandestinely groom her image as a strong woman independent and entirely different from her husband. A plan, I should add, that her husband fully supported.’

‘That’s quite a revelation.’

‘And the last one I have for you. I’m off to an editorial meeting discussing whose life will next gain my journalistic attention.’

‘Don’t let me hold you back. My girlfriend will be eager to read whatever’s next. Thanks for your time, my friend. Once again, you’ve proven invaluable.’

‘My pleasure. Just do me the favor of forgetting you ever heard a word of any of this from me.’

‘Forget what? I haven’t spoken to you in years.’

Another giggle. ‘Love you, guy. Bye.’

Tassos shut his eyes and exhaled as he turned off his phone. That’s when he noticed that his friends’ coffee-klatch had grown into a heated, curse-laden back and forth over the state of Greece’s current leadership. He opened his eyes and stared at his friends, all mature men of differing political persuasions.

If they only knew what he’d just heard.

Some wouldn’t believe it, some would call it proof of a worldwide conspiracy, and others wouldn’t care.

It was time for him to try to clear his head with a long walk by the sea.

And so Tassos walked.

He got as far as the Neorion shipyards and halfway back to the cafenion before calling Andreas.

‘I was wondering what happened to you,’ chirped Andreas.

‘I’ve been unexpectedly recalibrating my notoriously low opinion of those who choose to run for public office.’

‘Up or down?’

‘Definitely down.’

‘Sounds ominous,’ said Andreas. ‘Where precisely did this epiphany occur?’

‘On Syros, harborside in Ermoupoli, looking out upon a cheek-by-jowl moored flotilla of far from ostentatious sailboats manned by regular folk seeking to find a modicum of peace under sail far from the maddening politics that haunt their day-to-day existence no matter where they happen to live on this screwed-up planet.’

‘Wow, what has you so wound up?’

‘That little favor you asked of me.’

‘Which one?’

‘A search for nasties on you-know-who.’

Andreas’s voice rose. ‘You found something?’

‘I think some would call it a lot.’

‘Hold on, I want Maggie and Yianni to hear this.’

Andreas shouted, ‘Maggie, get Yianni and come in here ASAP. I’ve got Tassos on the phone.’

‘Uh-oh,’ said Tassos. ‘You forgot to say the magic word.’

‘Huh? What— Oh. Maggie, ASAP, please!’

With the door to Andreas’s office snugly shut, and the three of them huddled around the speaker phone, they listened to Tassos’s detailed description of all that he’d learned from his unidentified friend.

‘And that, dear friends, is what explains my downbeat mood on how little we little people know about how we’re manipulated by those who wish to rule us.’

Andreas spoke first. ‘How reliable is your friend?’

‘Always has been. He might not have told me everything he knows, but I trust that what he told me he knows or at least believes is true.’

‘If what he said is accurate, we’ve got a whole different potential slant to the crash to contend with.’

‘A political assassination?’ asked Maggie.

Andreas nodded. ‘Ridding oneself of a potential rival before the rival is too well-known or powerful to be taken out quietly is a plot dating back to antiquity.’

‘But she was already well known and powerful,’ Yianni pointed out.

‘Yes,’ said Andreas, ‘but as Onofrio’s wife. If she were suddenly to declare her candidacy for parliament, the announcement itself would change everything. All the enormous attention it generated? It would have given her a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to create an entirely new public persona for herself. I’ve no doubt the initial media attention would be largely unflattering, but depending on how deftly she handled it, there was a good chance of her elevating herself to star status practically overnight.’

‘You make an interesting point,’ said Maggie. ‘We Greeks do have a history of jumping on a newcomer’s bandwagon without regard to his or her qualifications for the position sought. Especially if they happen to be attractive and articulate.’

‘It’s not just Greeks,’ growled Tassos.

‘So where do we go from here?’ Maggie asked.

‘Until we come up with some hard evidence on what brought down the plane, we’re likely never going to know for certain what happened,’ said Andreas.

‘Meaning anyone responsible for bringing down the plane will get away with multiple murders,’ said Tassos.

‘Isn’t this something we have to tell the Minister?’ said Maggie.

‘If not the Prime Minister,’ added Yianni.

‘The trouble is, we don’t have the slightest idea of who’s responsible for Alexandra’s death, and raising the possibility with our ministers that she was a target of political assassins could further politicize the investigation.’ Andreas shook his head in disgust. ‘I can hear them and their advisers saying, “Why risk making the situation worse by suggesting the crash was anything other than an accident or, at worst, the bungled assassination of her gangster husband? She’s dead, so why do anything to get people thinking that their politicians would ever stoop to assassinating potential rivals?”’

Andreas swallowed. ‘As I see it, at this point we have only one choice. And that’s to keep digging into Alexandra Boutsis’s background in the hope of finding someone who might have had a motive for doing away with her.’ He paused. ‘Or doing the same to her husband. We may get nowhere, but since that’s about where we are now, we’ve not much to lose. I’m just wishing for another break that will point us toward something tying everything together.’

‘What do you mean by everything?’ asked Tassos.

‘Why did the plane crash, why were two of the six on board found together so far from the presumed crash site – one dead, one alive – and what happened to the other four? Never mind the sonar beacons.’

‘That sounds more like a prayer for divine guidance than a wish,’ said Yianni. ‘But I agree. I don’t see any other option.’

‘Let’s not forget the Chief’s nightly messages,’ said Maggie.

‘How’s that going?’ asked Tassos.

Maggie cleared her throat. ‘From what I’ve been told, there’s little reason for us to fear losing the Chief to a career in podcasting. However, the nurse said she senses the messages could be having a positive impact on Onofrio’s recovery. She also said her feeling could be nothing more than wishful thinking on her part.’

‘Sounds to me that the only thing your messages are accomplishing is that Onofrio’s saint of a nurse is now rooting for one of the worst sinners on earth to return to brutalizing the world.’

‘Thank you for those words of encouragement, Tassos. So, moving right along, do any of you have any ideas on what I should say in this evening’s message? Do I bring up his wife’s alleged political ambitions?’

‘Not yet. Just go with the flow,’ said Maggie. ‘Whatever comes to mind.’

‘Agreed.’

‘Me too.’

‘Thanks for the unanimous show of confidence … or does it really mean that none of you dares speak up because you think I’d take criticism badly?’

‘Now that you mention it,’ said Maggie with a smile, ‘I will add one caveat to what I said: Be sure to read it to Lila before you send it off.’

‘Agreed.’

‘Me too.’

Manos’s team leader at AAIASB regarded him as a capable detail man, someone who could take information provided by others and put it into presentation form for his superiors to pass up the chain of command. Likable enough, he was not, in his leader’s view, someone equipped to assume crash-site, first-hand investigative responsibilities. Manos had long accepted that role and now he took his boss’s likely reaction into account when crafting his pitch to refocus a coastline search for crash debris away from the spot where the Onofrios had been found.

His presentation included charts showing sea currents, winds, and sea temperatures for the week following the crash. According to those charts, currents in the region where the plane presumably went down would likely have swept wreckage or bodies to shore significantly south of the couple’s location.

He also pointed out that, from the state of the husband’s shoeless feet, he’d likely been walking for days across rough coastline terrain. But from the state of his wife’s feet, she’d not been with him on his trek.

The inconsistency between the results of Manos’s research into where victims of the crash should have ended up, and where two victims incontrovertibly had ended up, was enough to overcome the team leader’s reluctance at incurring the additional expenses of a new search. Should evidence later turn up that AAIASB had not considered all possibilities in such a high-publicity crash investigation, heads would roll, starting with the team leader’s own.

That concern prompted him to authorize extending the search on two conditions. One, the search be conducted ASAP by helicopter and focus on the areas of coastline most likely to yield meaningful results. Two, Manos would be in charge of supervising those expanded efforts.

Manos realized his head had just been put on the chopping block should it later turn out that something significant was missed in the new search area. Still, this was his shot at getting out into the field and proving his theory correct.

Within an hour, he was up in a chopper, binoculars in hand, prepared to hunt for he knew not what.

Hi Dimitris, it’s Andreas. I heard you had a bit of excitement in your room last night. Happy to learn it all worked out. I wonder what had your doctor so riled up over what you might be listening to on a pair of earbuds. My guess is he doesn’t want you talking to a cop. I can understand that, but you know I’m a cop, and even if you wanted to talk to me, you’re medically not up to it. Your doctor knows that better than we do, so I can only assume he doesn’t want you listening to what I might have to say.

I wonder why that is …

My only interest is in learning why that plane went down. It’s a question for which I’m certain you, even more than I, want an answer. I’d love to have your thoughts on that, but for now, just rest and enjoy the music.

‘Could you play that for me once again?’ said Lila.

‘Certainly.’ Andreas studied her face as she listened to his voice, her eyes tightly closed.

When the replay ended, she opened her eyes and smiled. ‘This message, I like. You sound more friend-like than the cop you are.’

‘If I made myself sound like a friend to Onofrio, I deserve an Oscar.’

‘I think he likely knows that too, dear. Still, if your purpose is to raise doubts in his mind over the motives of those he trusts in hopes he’ll consider talking to you about the crash, I’d say you’ve given him something solid to consider.’

‘Great. That’s all I can hope to do. I’ll send it off now for the nurse to play for him tonight.’

‘Just don’t get too hopeful over this. I still think getting him to cooperate is wishful thinking.’

‘Or, as Yianni said to me earlier today, my hope of finding answers, even with Onofrio’s assistance, is “more a prayer for divine guidance than a wish.”’

Lila shrugged and kissed him on the cheek. ‘Praise the Lord and keep playing those messages.’

The earbuds hadn’t bothered him. Nor did the music. Some of the music he liked, some he didn’t, but all of it in one way or another allowed his mind to drift away to places far removed from his current reality. That was good. The nurse was right to have done that for him.

What he didn’t want to hear was music that reminded him of his wife. He couldn’t confront what had happened. Or rather, he didn’t want to. Not yet. The wounds were too deep and too fresh.

He fixed on ‘too deep and too fresh.’ He’d heard them said before. But where?

As hard as he tried, he could not recall. And so, he stopped trying. At least for now.

He drifted off to sleep, the night music gentle and soothing. So was the voice that spoke to him. Unlike the gaggle of voices he heard during the day, the nighttime voice only came at night, replaying several times, so he couldn’t miss it.

Tonight was no different. The voice already had said its piece twice, and as he listened to it repeat for the third time, that familiar phrase returned: ‘Too deep and too fresh.’

So, it was the nighttime voice that had spoken those words to him.

A cop’s voice.

ELEVEN

The Peloponnese is the southernmost part of mainland Greece, about the same size as the American state of Massachusetts and the setting for much of the blood-soaked drama that comprises ancient Greek history. Manos’s flight from Athens had taken him over land that once served as the ancestral home to Spartan power. A place of lush mountain passes, broad green valleys, jagged gray mountains, seemingly endless groves of olives and figs, and the turquoise waters of the Ionian Sea edging up against Messenia, the western prong of the trident-shape peninsula tip of the Peloponnese.

Manos’s first day helicoptering up and down Messenia’s western coastline searching for clues yielded nothing more than momentary false hopes. He and the pilot had scoured the coastline from the southernmost tip of Messenia at Koroni to as far north as Kyllini, across from the island of Zakynthos. They’d touched down more than a dozen times for a closer look at possible links to the downed plane but found only a busy sea’s expected flotsam and jetsam, plus every imaginable order of garbage tossed overboard by thoughtless sea travelers.

Today, Manos needed to show results. Retracing yesterday’s route to see if he’d missed something was a possibility, but his instincts told him that would be a waste of time. But those same instincts said that if he didn’t come up with something soon – like today – his authority to continue with this costly side investigation would be yanked.

His gut told him where they should be searching, but that raised the question of whether he should risk possible repercussions with his boss if he were wrong. It’s one thing to have spent his time searching an expanded area reasonably related to where the Onofrios were discovered on Messenia’s western coastline, but quite another to have used his department’s limited government funding chasing a personal hunch.

Still, Manos had faith in his calculations and persisted in his belief that if the plane went down anywhere near where it fell off radar at the deepest part of the Mediterranean Sea, any drifting wreckage or victims were most likely to have washed ashore not where the couple was found, but significantly south of there – along the shores of the Messenian Gulf, that part of the Ionian Sea which separates Messenia from its middle-finger-peninsula neighbor Mani to the east. As for where specifically in the Gulf, anywhere along the approximately 150 kilometers of shoreline running from its southeastern tip at Mani’s Cape Tenaro – the second southernmost point in mainland Europe – north to Messenia’s capital city Kalamata at the top of the Gulf, and south to its western tip by Venetiko island.

If his theory proved correct, it left unexplained why Onofrio and his wife turned up where they did, for according to his calculations that would only happen if the plane went down substantially north of its presumed crash site.

But that was a mystery for someone else to solve. His duty was to locate aviation wreckage in the most expeditious and effective way possible, all with an eye to determining the cause of a fatal plane crash. That’s why he’d chosen this job.

And why it was time for him to play his hunch.

The Minister of Citizen Protection sat at his desk reading the latest AAIASB report on the status of its investigation of the Onofrio crash. Today’s reports revealed little beyond what he’d read in yesterday’s. It was rare for him to take such an interest in a relatively straightforward plane accident, but Onofrio surviving the crash had made potential consequences anything but straightforward. Power brokers and their acolytes were incessantly plumbing the Minister for updates as if their lives depended upon what the investigation unearthed.

The Minister also knew that his longtime friend and former boss undoubtedly was ignoring his orders to stay away from Onofrio. But he’d never expected Andreas to act otherwise. Certainly not with his wife and father-in-law’s ownership ties to the plane putting them at risk of Onofrio’s temper. Andreas hadn’t mentioned any of that to the Minister, but Andreas also had to know that among the first steps in a crash investigation is determining who owned the plane. It was a charade for both of them to act as if the other didn’t know.

But at times a charade is necessary, for it offers participants a veneer of plausible deniability. The Minister had no doubt that his ministry should institute its own investigation with Andreas in charge, but it had long been made clear to him that he would lose his ministry if he allowed Andreas to dig into Onofrio’s affairs. That admonition had now been expanded to include the Minister’s own dismissal should he let Andreas off his leash.

To keep his position, the Minister complied and personally ordered Andreas to stay away, but while Andreas took care to appear as if he were complying, the Minister was rooting for Andreas to get to the bottom of whatever secret was drawing such fire. On the other hand, if Andreas slipped up and revealed that he was violating that order, the Minister had his plausible deniability, and Andreas his confrontation with the Fates.

Cape Tenaro sits at the southernmost point of mainland Greece, where the Ionian and Aegean seas meet and Greek mythology places the entrance to Hades, home to the god of the dead. Some moderns called it by its Italian name, Cape Matapan; the ancients knew it as Tainaron.

To Manos, it represented the starting point of a quest that could define his career. Should he find crash-related evidence in places his far more experienced colleagues had dismissed out of hand as a fool’s errand to pursue, he’d be hailed as a field operations superstar. But coming up empty-handed would likely tether him to a desk for life.

Just past daybreak on the second day of their search, the helicopter swept in over the iconic Cape Tenaro lighthouse headed for the east coast of the Messenian Gulf. Built by the French in 1882 atop rugged gray rock jutting out into the sea, the lighthouse’s distinctive, square-sided, massive stone pedestal tower stood buttressed between twin one-story stone structures, all resting upon a foundation set into the underlying rock.

The rugged rocky coastline surrounding the lighthouse continued north along a virtually beachless, eight-mile run of stark gray cliff faces topped by arid hills and more stone. To Manos, the undulating landscape resembled a herd of massive crawling humpback creatures, with lizard skins of brown and gray touched with warts of green, perched high above the edge of the sea, unsure of whether to pause or leap.

He felt much the same way. A coastline of sharp cliffs dropping straight into the sea made this search more difficult than he’d anticipated. He wondered again whether he should consider retracing yesterday’s search pattern instead of continuing on here. Repeating yesterday’s unsuccessful search could be chalked up to thoroughness, while pressing ahead here without results risked being attributed to foolish inexperience.

About eight miles north of the lighthouse, the coastline pinched in to form a mile-wide waist in the peninsula. Just south of that, in the area of Marmara, the coastline briefly flattened to create two sandy beaches. Manos took that as a sign of better things to come and pressed on. But the next twenty miles yielded only more rocks and stone cliff faces, rarely punctuated by sandy coves or manmade structures. Worse still, the sea had offered up nothing deserving more than a brief hover and glance. Manos remained hopeful. But not happy.

North of Areopoli, the city named after the Greek god of war and where locals struck the first blow in Greece’s War of Independence, the landscape turned greener and the shoreline busier. He expected that to increase the closer they came to Kalamata, the second largest city in the Peloponnese.

More action along the shoreline meant more possibilities, but also more distractions. He kept his eyes glued to his binoculars, sweeping the coastline looking for something, anything that could betray the crash.

They were a dozen miles north of Areopoli, above the village of Agios Dimitrios and across from the island of Pephnos, where Helen of Troy was born, when the pilot shouted, ‘Over there, to the east at two o’clock.’

‘What is it?’ said Manos.

‘A tiny quay down by those terracotta-roof buildings.’ He brought the copter around and in closer to the quay.

Three small wooden motorboats sat moored to the quay along with a smaller bright orange craft.

Manos fixed his binoculars on the orange one. His heart skipped a beat. ‘That’s the kind of inflatable life raft you find on private jets! You’ve got to get us down there.’

‘There’s no place to set down anywhere nearby. It’s all buildings and orchards.’

‘No way I’m going to risk losing that raft to someone moving it before I get to examine it.’

‘Would you rather risk losing us?’

‘I’ve confidence in you. How about putting it down there, next to where the quay hits land?’

‘Are you insane, that’s like threading a needle.’

‘But there aren’t any power lines to worry about. So just do it.’

‘You’re crazy.’

‘We’ve been flying up and down coastlines for two days praying for a break, and this could be it. Just do it. Please.’

The pilot cursed. ‘I suggest now’s the time to start praying for us.’

He began gingerly descending toward a flat concrete slab abutting a seawall mounted above a loose stone embankment. From where Manos sat it looked less like threading a needle and more like an attempt to drop a tennis ball back into its can from a hundred meters high.

As for how it appeared to the residents of the village, he dared not venture a guess.

A crowd had formed voicing a common point of view and was now pressing toward the idle helicopter and the two men standing beside it facing the crowd.

‘Are you mad?’ shouted a handlebar-mustached old man in a Greek fisherman’s hat, denim shirt, and jeans.

‘I’ve called the police,’ screamed a middle-aged woman in jeans and a sequined blouse that read ‘I love Mani.’

‘Malakas,’ was the most common curse Manos heard shouted. It came at them from every direction, mostly hurled by a growing group of burly men in their twenties, thirties, and forties.

Manos had forgotten they were in the Mani, a region of the Peloponnese that took great pride in its population’s uncompromising claim to its Spartan ancestry, and a land notorious for being home to pirates, highwaymen, and the locals’ famous warrior ancestors. The Mani also served as the origin of the once-prevalent practice of vendetta.

Though the crowd’s fury might not extend to violence against the two men who stepped out of the helicopter, Manos sensed the real possibility of the crowd venting its anger by pushing the helicopter over the sea wall.

He raised his hands to the crowd in a calming gesture. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, we have come here on a mission of mercy, not to create or cause any inconvenience to any of you.’

‘But you are,’ yelled a full-bearded young man.

‘I apologize if I have. We are here to determine why a plane crashed and whether any of those still missing survived.’

‘But why did you land here, in the heart of our village? You scared us and our children,’ said the woman in the blouse.

‘Because we saw that orange life raft and thought it might hold clues to the plane’s fate.’

‘That’s my boat. No one’s going to take my boat,’ said Full-beard.

‘We’re not here to take your boat, we just want to look at it.’

‘Well, I’m not letting you.’

‘We’re not letting you,’ said a man next to him. ‘None of us are.’

Full-beard snarled, ‘Now get out of here before we toss you and your government helicopter into the sea.’

There it was.

Manos started to speak, but the pilot put his hand on his arm to stop him. ‘Let me handle this.’

The pilot turned to the crowd. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, who here stands with Petros Mavromichalis?’

‘Who are you to speak his name?’ asked Full-beard angrily.

‘I repeat, who here stands with Petros Mavromichalis?’

Full-beard raised his fists, as did several others, asking the pilot, in a variety of ways, how he dared invoke the name of their great leader, who won Greece independence from the Turks.

Some began pressing toward the pilot.

‘I don’t think you’re helping things,’ said Manos.

Ignoring Manos, the pilot shouted. ‘I ask once more, who here stands with my great-grandfather’s great-grandfather?’ and he raised his own fist into the air.

The crowd froze.

‘What are you saying?’ asked the old man.

‘That I stand before you as the direct descendant of our cherished Petrobey. I share his name, Petros Mavromichalis, and on the honor of that revered name, I swear that all this man who stands beside me has said to you is true. We did not come to offend, we came to save lives, and if necessary bring vengeance upon those deserving of it.’

He cleared his throat. ‘If we have offended anyone, I ask that you let us end any disagreement with our apology. There is no reason for those who know the Mani way to allow this to go any further.’

Looking at Full-beard, he nodded. ‘And to you, brother, I assure you we have no intention of doing more than looking at your boat.’

The crowd stood silent and still.

Full-beard met the pilot’s look with a fixed stare. ‘Apology accepted.’

The pilot stepped forward and extended his hand to Full-beard who took it. Both men smiled and the crowd cheered.

‘Come,’ said Full-beard, ‘I want you to see my boat.’

Full-beard led both men down the quay to the boat. ‘I just have one question,’ he asked. ‘Are you really related to Petrobey?’

The pilot laughed. ‘If not, I think you’d agree I have balls big enough to be a Maniot.’

Full-beard smiled. ‘Fair point.’ He nodded toward the boat. ‘Search it to your heart’s content.’

‘Thank you,’ said Manos. ‘It looks like it’s been through hell and back.’

‘It has.’ He paused. ‘To be perfectly honest, I didn’t buy it, I found it floating inside a tiny cove just south of here. But you know the rule of the sea. Finders, keepers.’

‘You’ve got no argument from me on that score,’ said Manos. ‘But can you show me on a chart precisely where you found it and when?’

‘Sure, I found it a few days ago, but I’ve no idea how long it’s been bobbing around here. I know it’s a life raft, not a boat, but it’s easy enough to tow behind my boat, and since it has a tent for shade, I thought it might keep my kids from getting sunburned when we sail at the beach.’

‘Understood.’ Manos stepped on board, and searched every nook and cranny of the raft, including its outboard carryalls, photographing everything as he went along.

He stepped back on to the quay, clearly disappointed. ‘There’s nothing here. Nothing at all. Was there anything on board when you found it?’

‘Nope, the cupboard was bare. Except for some empty water jugs.’

‘Anything written on them?’

‘Yeah, the initials of some fancy company.’

‘What initials?’

‘LV Lines.’

Manos’s face lit up. ‘You just answered our prayers. Can I hug you?’

‘How about if I just give you the jugs?’

They all laughed.

‘Just one more question, and please don’t take offense, because I don’t care if you did what I’m asking, it’s just that I need to know the facts to figure out what might have happened.’

Full-beard stiffened. ‘OK, ask away, and I’ll try not to be offended.’

Manos offered a nervous smile. ‘I noticed that the emergency light beacon and position locator are both missing. Did you find it that way?’

‘As the great-grandson of pirates, I resemble that remark. But the answer to your question is that, yes, this is precisely as I found it. Though I’d probably have taken them for my fishing boat if I’d found them.’

‘Thanks for your candor.’

‘You’re welcome.’

Thirty minutes later, with jugs in hand, and coffee and cakes in their bellies courtesy of Full-beard, they said their goodbyes.

Once back in the air, Manos asked, ‘Is your name really Petros Mavromichalis?’

He chuckled. ‘Just keep calling me Pete.’

‘That was an impressive performance you put on back there.’

‘It came from years of watching my father and grandfather maneuver through the pros and cons of having such a celebrated name. Honor your family name, and those around you will honor you.’

Manos thought of his own parents, who’d died in a plane crash, and how he’d chosen to honor them.

‘Still, I want to thank you for everything you did back there, not the least of which was sticking that landing. It’s because of you that we can definitively tie the life raft into the Onofrio crash.’

‘Happy to have helped out.’

‘I also appreciate your getting your new buddy to agree to hang on to the raft should we need it for evidence.’

He nodded. ‘So, where to now?’

‘I can’t imagine us having any better luck than we just did in finding the raft. But I think we should keep looking, at least up to Kalamata at the head of the gulf.’

‘Agreed. We still don’t know who was in the life raft. It could have been everyone or no one.’

‘The raft holds four people,’ said Manos. ‘Maybe we’ll find another.’

‘If it’s as bright orange as the one we found, it shouldn’t be hard to spot. Just one thing: No more crazy landings. It’s not the landing I worry about, it’s the lynch mob it attracts. The next crowd might not be a fan of my family patriarch.’

Manos smiled. ‘Understood, no more landings in potentially hostile environments.’

Hopefully, that wouldn’t apply to the reception Manos would receive back in Athens when he proved he was right, and they were wrong.

Yianni walked into Andreas’s office, plopped down on the couch, and slouched his head back against a cushion.

Andreas put down his pencil. ‘Is that an I’m-exhausted slouch, an I’m-frustrated slouch, or an I-have-something-I-really-don’t-want-to-tell-you slouch?’

‘A combination of the three sounds about right. Exhausted because I’m not getting much sleep.’

‘It’s not my fault your girlfriend is in town.’

‘Only for a couple of days, but I’ll be sure to tell Toni you send your regards as I explain you’re why I’m canceling our plans.’

Yianni yawned as Andreas pantomimed playing a violin. ‘And I’m frustrated because I sense I’m on to something but can’t quite figure out what it is.’

‘That’s normal for cops.’

‘I get that, but once I tell you what’s bothering me, I’m pretty sure you’ll have me dropping everything else in my life to chase down more details. Which will likely turn my girlfriend into my ex-girlfriend.’

‘Nice pitch for mercy, Detective. So, what is it that’s bothering you?’

‘Maggie and I have been looking into Alexandra Boutsis’s background, and it’s quite interesting. She’s very accomplished.’

‘That’s not news.’

‘No, but when you asked, we looked into whether she, rather than her husband, might have been the target of assassination, we gathered together lists of everyone we could find who worked with her during her Foreign Service years.’

‘You thought they might have wanted to kill her?’

‘No, but who’d know better than they if she had any enemies willing to do just that?’

‘Good point,’ said Andreas, nodding.

‘And guess who popped up on the list of fellow employees.’

‘Santa Claus.’

‘Close. Christos Vlahous.’

Andreas’s face tensed. ‘He was in the Foreign Service with her?’

‘In the latter part of her career. He was a pilot for ministry bigwigs. She was one of them.’

‘So, they knew each other.’

‘I’d think so.’

‘Did he hold any other positions in the Foreign Service?’

‘We’re checking, but so far, only a pilot.’

‘Why did he leave?’

‘To take the job with LV Lines. And before you ask, by then Boutsis had left the Foreign Service and married Onofrio.’

‘Sounds like she may have been the reason Onofrio used LV Lines.’

‘Makes sense.’

‘Have you spoken to Vlahous?’

‘Not yet. Family business … I figured to leave that call to you.’

Andreas nodded. ‘It sounds like an innocent enough situation. One old colleague giving business to another. But there’s no way I can interview him. You’ll have to do that.’

‘I thought that’s what you’d say, which is why I slouched so deeply on your couch. It’s Toni’s last night in Athens and I promised her I’d be home early.’

‘It shouldn’t be more than a five-minute chat with Vlahous. Do it by phone.’

‘But how is my making the call to Vlahous going to look any different to the Minister than your making the call?’

‘Good point.’ Andreas paused. ‘Get hold of Tassos and ask him to have Niko question Vlahous.’

Yianni jumped up from the couch. ‘Thanks, Chief. That’s terrific. I’ll get on it right away.’

‘What’s your hurry? It’s still early afternoon.’

‘I just want to get out of your hair. I know you’ll be busy working on tonight’s message to Onofrio.’

Andreas stared sharply at Yianni. ‘Is that sarcasm or sincerity?’

‘Neither. Just simple, straightforward self-interest. I just want to get out of here before you think of something else for me to do.’

Andreas shook his head and waved in the direction of the door. ‘Just go.’

As much as Manos wanted to share his excitement with his team leader at what they’d discovered, his instincts told him to wait until the search day had ended. Office politics being what they were, his boss might well tell Manos to abandon the search at once, announce that he was coming to the Messenian Gulf to assume personal direct charge of ferreting out whatever additional investigative treasures there might be, and ultimately claim credit for himself.

Having decided to keep the discovery quiet for now, Manos returned to studying the coastline through binoculars for any sign of something interesting, while Pete concentrated on flying while keeping an eye out for bright orange on the water.

‘What would you say the odds are of finding a second raft?’ asked Pete.

‘Actually, they’re probably better than they were of finding the first, because now we know my calculations were correct about currents steering items from the presumed crash site into the Gulf.’

‘Even so, finding one needle in a haystack seems better odds to me than two.’

‘I guess that’s why I’m not a gambler,’ said Manos. ‘So, where are we?’

‘Closing in on Kardamyli.’

‘Mm,’ acknowledged Manos. ‘It’s a pretty town.’

Pete nodded. ‘Lots of tourists and ex-pats live here. In fact, one of our most famous British ex-pats, Patrick Leigh Fermor and his wife Joan lived in a house across from the far side of that thin finger of green pointing into the sea.’

‘Wasn’t he a travel writer?’

‘Said to be Britain’s best of his day, but also a soldier whose exploits on behalf of Greece in World War II made it into a movie. He’s been called a cross between Indiana Jones, James Bond, and Graham Greene.’

‘That’s some praise. Where exactly is his house?’

‘Do you see that skinny finger?’

‘Yes.’

‘About 150 meters from where the finger meets the mainland, see what looks like a bed sheet partly in the water that’s caught up on rocks and undergrowth in a tiny cove? Their house was the one directly in line with the bed sheet.’

Manos focused his binoculars on the site. ‘Hey … that’s no bed sheet. Bring it in for a closer look.’

‘Then what is it?’ asked Pete.

‘Not sure yet.’

The next few seconds seemed to last for hours, with neither man saying a word as Pete brought the chopper close enough to generate a flutter in the mysterious item.

‘Is that what I think it is?’ asked Manos.

‘My God, it’s a parachute.’

‘Not just any parachute. It looks like a low-altitude type used by paratroopers in full battle gear to jump from low heights.’

‘Do you think …’

‘Yeah. But for now, I just need to retrieve it. We can guess about it later.’

‘Great, but there’s no way I can set this baby down on that finger. It’s totally overgrown.’

‘On the other side of the finger I thought I saw some buildings with large open lots. Put it down there and I’ll hike over.’

‘Fine, but this time you make nice with whoever comes to greet us.’

Five minutes later they were on the ground explaining to the owner of the property why they were there. He said he was happy to help out. Besides, it would give him a new story to share with his cafenion buddies.

The hike to the site of the parachute was only about a quarter mile, but the foliage was thick and slowed them down considerably. The toughest part was hauling the chute out of the sea, what with it being waterlogged and tangled by its rigging lines between prickly brush and slippery rocks. By the time they returned to the copter the better part of an hour had passed and a reception party was waiting for them.

They laid out the chute at the base of the chopper and stretched their backs.

‘I see you found what you were looking for,’ said the property owner, nodding at the parachute. ‘My guess is you could use some coffee,’ he added, pointing to a well-worn table and some taverna chairs set outside the closest building.

‘That’s very generous, thank you,’ said Manos.

‘We’d have offered you raki, but figured that since you’re flying, we’d better stick you to the coffee.’

Manos smiled. ‘I assume these gentlemen are your cafenion pals.’

‘Yes, every morning like clockwork.’

‘Do any of you have any idea how this parachute ended up over there?’

‘No, said the owner, ‘but we figured someday somebody would come looking for it.’

‘Do you know how long it’s been there?’

‘Nope.’

‘But it must have been about a half-dozen days ago,’ said a silver-haired man leaning on a round-headed cane.

‘Why do you say that?’

‘Because that’s when a stranger asked me about it.’

Manos perked up. ‘What stranger, and what did he ask?’

‘Like I said, he was a stranger, so I have no idea who he was, but he asked me the same question you asked. “How long has the chute been there?”’

‘What did he look like?’

‘Sunburned, unshaven, down on his luck. Tattered clothes and shoes that didn’t look like they’d last on his feet much longer.’

‘Is that all he said?’

‘He asked me if I’d seen a woman of about forty, dark hair and fit, wandering north along the beach. I said, “Not recently, what with tourist season over.” Once I told him that he said nothing more. Just continued walking north along the beach toward Kalamata.’

‘Excuse me for a second.’ Manos hurried back to the copter as Pete helped himself to a coffee and sampled the stuffed grape leaves, bits of sausage and cheese, cucumber, and anchovies.

Manos returned with his laptop open to a photo. ‘Is this the man you spoke to on the beach?’

The silver-haired man squinted at the photo. ‘Can you make it bigger?’

‘Certainly.’ Manos waited for an answer, holding his breath.

‘Yes, that’s him. He sure looks different in that picture than when I saw him. Is he famous or something?’

‘Yes, he’s certainly something. Thank you for identifying him.’

After wringing out as much of the water from the chute as they could, they squeezed it into the copter, exchanged names and contact information with the men, and finished off the coffee and meze.

As they were about to walk to the chopper, the owner said, ‘Wait a moment.’ He reached down and lifted a cushion off one of the taverna chairs. ‘Since I assume you’re looking for wreckage, this cushion floated ashore about a week or so ago and I’ve been using it to help battle my hemorrhoids.’

‘No reason for us to take it from you.’

‘Please do. It’s not that comfortable.’

Manos smiled and thanked him for the cushion, took it and tossed it on top of the parachute and lifeboat water jugs, exchanged goodbyes, and waved as they lifted off.

‘So, what do you think?’ said Pete.

‘I think the people of the Mani are gracious and friendly.’

‘I agree with all that, but what’s your take on Onofrio popping up wandering north so close to where we found the parachute and asking about his wife?’

‘I’d say he was alone on the raft when it drifted ashore and was following the current north in hope of finding her.’

‘But why would he think she’d be around here if she wasn’t with him on the raft? And what’s that parachute got to do with any of this?’

‘Two very good questions to ask the police to look into once we’ve finished our travels in the southern Peloponnese.’

‘I’ve a question to add to your list,’ said Pete. ‘Why didn’t he call for help? With his influence, the army would be out looking for her.’

Manos nodded. ‘I sense our list of questions will get longer before we finish up.’

‘When do you predict that will be?’

‘I’d say sunset tonight. Barring more discoveries. Though I find it hard to imagine finding anything to top what we’ve found so far.’

‘You said that before.’

Manos smiled. ‘And it worked. I consider it my reverse psychology ploy for dealing with the fickle Fates. I get what I want by making them think I want something different.’

‘Sounds risky, tempting fate.’

‘Nah, not when you’re lucky. And this definitely is our lucky day.’

‘May the gods forgive you. Puh, puh, puh.’

TWELVE

‘Hi Christo, it’s Niko Reichardt.’

‘How can I help you, my friend?’

‘I have a quick couple of general background questions to ask you.’

‘Sure.’

‘When did you first meet Dimitris Onofrio?’

‘After I started working here at LV Lines.’

‘How did you come to meet him?’

‘Through his wife, Alexandra Boutsis.’

Niko heard a sigh.

‘I can’t believe she’s gone.’

‘You knew her well?’

‘We’d worked together at the Foreign Ministry and remained friends after we’d gone our separate ways. When her husband considered buying a private jet, she suggested he consider chartering as a more prudent cost-wise alternative. Happily, he agreed, and we’ve done business together regularly since.’

‘What sort of work did you do at the Foreign Ministry?’

‘I was a pilot for their VIPs. Sort of like what my company does now.’

‘Did you have any other role?’

Christos laughed. ‘Do you mean of the James Bond variety? I’ve heard that rumor before. It all started because I regularly flew diplomats into exotic places, and some of my buddies began joking that I must be a secret agent. The joke turned into a rumor that later morphed into gospel for some that my job as a pilot was only a cover for my secret work. But the pure and simple truth is that I was only a pilot, nothing more. I must admit that back in my youthful single days I didn’t discourage the speculation, because the rumors added an air of mystery to me that appealed to the ladies.’

‘Excuse the question, but did it appeal to Alexandra Boutsis?’

Christos laughed again. ‘She always laughed at the thought of anyone seeing me as anything more than a gofer pilot.’

‘What’s a gofer pilot?’

‘“Christos, go for this, Christos go for that.” If I flew to a destination where my passengers wanted to bring something back with them, but didn’t have the time to get it themselves, I’d be who they sent to go pick it up for them.’

‘What sorts of things?’

‘Clothes, specialty foods, artwork, perfume, home appliances – you name it.’

‘All perfectly legal, I assume.’

‘I wouldn’t know about that. I just picked up whatever they told me to get, but I don’t recall anything ever striking me as illegal to bring back to Greece.’

‘Did you and Alexandra remain close friends?’

‘I’d say so. We certainly remained close enough for Alexandra to continue entrusting my company with her and her family’s safety on their travels around the world.’

Niko heard a sniffle and throat clearing.

‘Anything else I can help you with?’

‘No, not at the moment, but thanks for your time.’

‘If you do think of something else, please don’t hesitate to ask me.’

‘Will do.’

Niko looked at his phone. The interview took somewhat longer than five minutes, but it confirmed all that Tassos had told him they knew so far, plus an explanation for a rumor about Christos he’d not yet heard.

Now to call Lila and report in on the latest chapter in this cloak and dagger charade. At least it didn’t interfere with my golf game.

Pete stopped at the Kalamata Air Base to refuel, and Manos took the opportunity to call Niko. He couldn’t wait to tell the legendary investigator that his theory had proved correct, and he sensed he could trust Reichardt with the news.

To Manos’s disappointment, Niko did not pick up his phone. Rather than trying later, he left a message asking Niko to please call back ASAP because he had some great news to share about the Onofrio crash.

From Kalamata, they curved south, following the western shoreline of the Messenian Gulf, ever on the lookout for a second orange raft or any other surprises still floating out there.

As treacherous and rocky as much of the Gulf’s eastern coastline had proven to be, its western shore was calmer, flatter, sandier, and far more fertile. For much of the flight south down the Gulf, they flew over long stretches of beach alongside vast, verdant farmlands filled with olives, citrus, figs, and rice.

‘Hiking this side of the Gulf had to be a lot easier for Onofrio than hiking the east coast,’ said Manos, his eyes still glued to his binoculars. ‘Lucky for him his raft made it to ground past the roughest parts of the Gulf’s east coast or he might not have survived.’

‘But he still had some rough patches to cover barefooted before finding his wife over by Methoni.’

‘Methoni is where we ended our search yesterday,’ said Manos, ‘and from what I’m not seeing through my binoculars today, I suspect it’s where we’ll end our search today, without adding to our catch.’

‘I’d say the raft, jugs, and parachute are a pretty significant catch.’

‘Plus, let’s not forget the cushion,’ smiled Manos.

Pete playfully punched Manos in the arm. ‘Congratulations, you’re about to become a star.’

Manos smiled. ‘Shh, don’t let the gods know that I like the sound of that.’

‘My lips are sealed.’

Niko was on the way to his commandeered office at LV Lines when he noticed Manos’s voicemail. Listening to it, he smiled at the young man’s pride. It reminded Niko of his own early-career moments, when anxious thoughts of failure burst into joy at a chance riskily taken.

In the office, Niko sat in a swivel chair at the head of the conference room table and returned Manos’s call. He listened silently as the young man proudly recounted how his calculations were borne out by his discoveries.

‘Well done,’ said Niko.

‘Thank you. I wanted to tell you before anyone else, but I would appreciate you not mentioning anything about it to anyone at AAIASB until tomorrow morning.’

‘I won’t, but why not call your team leader now? I’m sure he’ll be excited to hear what you discovered.’

‘I’m sure he will be too. But I want to submit my official written report before telling anyone in my office about what I found.’

Niko paused. ‘Any particular reason why you want to wait until then?’

‘I think you can guess the answer to that question.’

‘I think I can too.’ Niko paused once more. ‘I don’t know your team leader, but here’s a bit of unsolicited career advice. If you think he’d try to steal credit from you for your hard work, I suggest once you submit your report you consider pressing for reassignment rather than continuing to work for someone you do not trust.’

‘Understood, thank you. Though I guess how I proceed on that front will depend upon how meaningful my discovery is seen to be by those who matter at the Board.’

‘From all that you just told me, I’d say your find is going to prove critically important. And it’ll matter far beyond AAIASB. I could even imagine a movie coming out of it.’

Manos tilted his head. ‘Are you serious?’

‘A mysterious plane crash involving two likely-disabled missing black boxes, a notorious husband thought to have perished but later found alive and catatonic, his socially prominent wife who initially survived then died under unexplained circumstances only to end up on a deserted beach next to her husband, two missing pilots, two missing bodyguards, an empty life raft missing its rescue-signal devices, and a low-altitude commando-style parachute? I’d say that checks off more than enough boxes to qualify as a first-rate plot.’ He paused. ‘Plus, of course, let’s not forget the dedicated civil servant accident investigator who relentlessly battles against all odds to discover the truth.’

Manos laughed. ‘Is that your subtle way of warning me not to let my ego get out of control over all of this?’

‘I wouldn’t call it subtle. You’ve earned the praise, just don’t let your justifiable pride at what you’ve come up with swell your head to where those who work with you might want to take a poke at it.’

‘I shall once again follow your invaluable advice.’

‘But tonight, go celebrate. You deserve it. Let’s speak tomorrow after your big announcement.’

‘Then tomorrow it is. Bye.’

‘Bye.’ Niko smiled as he put down the phone. The kid has potential. I wonder if he golfs?

‘Hi.’

Niko swung his chair around to see who was there. It was Christos, standing by the open door.

‘Hi, Christos. I thought you’d be gone for the day. If I’d known you’d still be here I wouldn’t have bothered you with my questions over the phone.’

‘No problem. I wish I weren’t here, but reporters won’t stop hounding me for new angles on the crash. Every day they yank me away for hours from the business, but I can’t avoid talking to them. It’s the only shot I have at defusing their more outrageous conspiracy theories.’ He shook his head in disgust and walked toward the table. ‘It’s impacting the business. Thankfully, my assistant, Lefteris, can cover for me on the operations side of things, but if I don’t find a way to reverse the bad press and clear our name there soon will be no business.’

‘The truth should do that.’

‘From your lips to God’s ears.’ Christos crossed himself.

‘I think I can confidently say that a more secular line of communication may soon yield the relief you seek.’

Christos gave him a look. ‘What does that mean?’

‘I have it on good authority there’s a chance of an official report coming out soon that will move speculation away from the company.’

‘Will it vindicate the company?’

‘My instincts are that, yes, it will. But that will depend on what further investigation reveals.’

‘Whose investigation?’

‘Well, the only official investigation under way at present is at the AAIASB, but this report may inspire other agencies to look at what happened, all of which should only benefit the company.’

Christos managed a wan smile. ‘Well, that’s hopeful news. Whatever report it is, it can’t come out fast enough for me. If I can help in any way, please tell whoever’s running the investigation to reach out to me.’

‘I will, but don’t worry, he’s a pit bull. Smart and determined. If he has something in his sights, he won’t let go of it, no matter what.’

Christos smiled broadly. ‘On that good news, I think I’ll head home. For once I’ll be leaving the office on an upbeat note. Thank you for that. Goodnight.’

‘Night.’ Niko wished he could be heading home too, but first he had to call Lila with a full report on what he’d heard from Manos, including his opinions on what those discoveries might mean.

‘Hello?’

‘Hi, Lila, it’s Niko. Sorry to bother you again, but I have more news to report.’

‘I hope it’s good news.’

‘I think it is.’

‘Terrific. Just give me a moment.’

She put Niko on hold and called out for Andreas.

‘What is it? I’m preparing my message for tonight.’

‘It’s Niko Reichardt. He says he has good news, and I think it makes more sense for you to listen in than to later grill me for details.’

‘Just don’t let on that I’m listening,’ said Andreas, walking from their bedroom into Lila’s office. He sat in a chair across from her at her desk and picked up a pad of paper and a pencil. ‘I’m ready whenever you are.’

She put Niko’s call on speaker. ‘Sorry about that, but now we’re ready to go.’ She cringed. ‘Uh, I mean I’m ready to go.’

‘Understood. I propose giving you my bottom-line opinion first, then the facts on which I base it. If I’m right, this is about to become a murder investigation.’

Lila blinked, held her breath, and instinctively fixed her eyes on Andreas. ‘Murder? And that’s supposed to be good news?’

‘By good news, I mean in the context of your company’s potential liability for what happened. In my opinion, from what the AAIASB investigator told me he found today in the Messenian Gulf, your company’s plane went down for reasons having nothing to do with the soundness of the plane or the competence of your personnel. It was a planned killing.’

‘Who was the target?’

‘Can’t say, though the obvious one would be Dimitris Onofrio.’

‘But he’s the only one who appears to have survived.’

‘Even the best-laid plans can shatter when it involves escaping in an unconventional manner from a fast-moving aircraft.’

‘What are you saying?’

‘Permit me first to give you the facts on which I base my opinion. If the facts change, so may my opinion. Is that OK with you?’

Andreas nodded and gestured: OK.

‘OK.’

Niko spent fifteen minutes describing all that Manos had told him about where they had searched and why, what they found, and what they’d learned from witnesses.

‘Well, now that I’ve told you all the facts as I know them, would you like to hear my reading of the maritime tea leaves leading me to form a conclusory opinion of multiple murders? Or would you prefer I first answer your questions?’

Andreas scribbled: Tea leaves.

‘I’d like to hear your opinions.’

‘Will do, but I must preface what I’m about to say with the suggestion that someone with keen police investigative skills gets involved ASAP to assure that the many loose ends out there are found, properly tugged, and clipped away.’

Andreas smiled at the implicit acknowledgment in Niko’s comment of Andreas’s presence on the call.

Niko cleared his throat. ‘Let’s start with what I consider to be the current core facts: We have the downed plane’s two likely-disabled black boxes missing in the deepest part of the Mediterranean. The only apparent survivor of the six persons known to be on board is a notorious criminally minded husband, now conveniently catatonic, although days after the crash he was observed searching for his wife along the same coastline as where a low-altitude parachute and a life raft missing its rescue beacons were discovered. Forensics described the wife as physically fit and likely to have survived the crash, perishing days later under unexplained, violent circumstances. Most significantly, her body washed ashore wearing a life jacket along a coastline far from where she should have ended up had she died in the presumed crash area.’

Andreas had been scribbling furiously during Niko’s presentation, and now pointed to a notation on his pad for Lila to read.

‘That’s quite an unsettling story,’ she said. ‘How confident are you that the life raft and parachute were from the plane?’

‘I have no personal knowledge, nor does the fellow who found them. But he did locate LV Lines water jugs with the raft, and Onofrio was searching for his wife in the area where the parachute was recovered. First-hand verification of that speculation can come only from the husband.’

Andreas pointed to another entry on his pad.

‘Does the raft or parachute show up on any company inventory of equipment on the plane?’

‘I’ll have to check, but I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a raft on board. On the other hand, I would be surprised to find a parachute listed. Bailing out of a private jet is something even experienced sky divers are reluctant to consider. Their doors are generally not designed for that, and attempting such a jump risks all manner of fatal mishap. That said, there’s a door on this Gulfstream that opens in a manner that would make such a jump possible … Still, I wouldn’t expect to see a parachute listed on your company’s inventory. Certainly not a low-altitude one. Anyone diving out of a plane would want a lot more altitude, unless it involved a paratrooper coming in low to avoid detection and do battle.’

‘Why then do you think the parachute your colleague discovered came from my company’s plane?’

‘I have no documentation to confirm that, but my common sense, experience and facts as they now appear all lead me to conclude something truly nasty went down, but not in the way the perpetrator, or more likely perpetrators, had planned.’

‘Meaning?’

‘If the plane crashed into the sea at speed, it’s hard to imagine survivors. If the plane somehow glided into the sea, it would still be a miracle for anyone to survive. But, if someone were to parachute out of the plane at low-altitude with an inflatable raft rigged on to the jumper in lieu of the battle gear commandos typically carry with such chutes, it would explain a lot of things.’

‘Such as?’

‘Why a parachute and a raft ended up precisely where the sea currents would be expected to carry them if someone jumped in the vicinity of the presumed crash area and then abandoned the raft and parachute.’

Andreas wrote another note for Lila to read. ‘Who jumped? The husband or wife. Perhaps both? Which scenario would explain how one raft and one parachute ended up in the Gulf? Could there be a second raft and chute still out there?’

‘As I said, it’s a mystery for a keen detective mind to solve, though I don’t put much credence in the two-jumper theory. Why would any couple in their right mind decide on such a crazy plan to kill two pilots and two bodyguards? Someone like Onofrio could arrange for all of that to be accomplished in a far less complicated and dangerous way to them. My money is on either the husband or wife having set everything up without the knowledge of the other. And whichever of them devised the scheme did not expect the other to survive the crash.’

Andreas wrote one more note and put down his pencil. Lila read it to herself, then said, ‘Where do we go from here?’

‘Tomorrow, first thing, I’ll ask my colleague at AAIASB for any additional views he may have on what happened. He has good instincts. Then we’ll take it from there.’

‘Sounds like a plan,’ said Lila without waiting for a note or whisper from Andreas.

‘Until tomorrow.’

Hello again, Dimitris. It’s Andreas. I hope you’re feeling better. I’m getting a better picture of what it must have been like for you in the early days following the crash. Investigators found what appears to be the life raft that carried you to shore along the Messenian Gulf. They also found a parachute close by the village where you asked if anyone had seen your wife. And a cushion there too.

Covering the distances you did, barefoot over rocky terrain, is a testament to the intensity of your feelings for Alexandra. This I fully understand.

What I cannot understand is why you never asked for help in finding her. If you’d simply asked, the police and coast guard would have launched a search to end all searches in the Gulf.

Perhaps the time you spent adrift in a raft stripped of all devices for signaling for help caused you to lose faith in those who could help? Or maybe there’s another reason … Whatever the explanation, I hope you’re not allowing it to serve as justification for not jumping back into the fray of day-to-day life.

I suspect your doctor would not like you to hear what I’m about to say, but frankly, Dimitris, I think it’s important to tell it like it is. Shutting yourself off is the coward’s way out, and if there’s one thing you’re not, it’s a coward. Think about it. Are you at fault for what happened or simply mourning it? Either way, it’s time to return to living your life.

Bye for now.

THIRTEEN

Manos planned on following Niko’s advice by celebrating his success with friends in the trendy late-night bar and club area of Gazi, close by the Acropolis. But first, he wanted to finish his report and get it into AAIASB’s system while still basking in the joy of having proven himself right. His new pilot friend Pete dropped him off where he’d left his motorbike two days ago to meet up with the helicopter.

His office building was closed by the time Manos arrived, but he had a key to the front door. Out of habit he locked the door behind him. Too many opportunistic types routinely wandered the neighborhood at night checking for unlocked doors.

He put on the coffee and made his way to a desk by the front windows. Sitting where he could be seen from the street should discourage anyone thinking of testing this front door. Armed with his laptop and coffee, he began writing his report.

He’d been thinking about what he wanted to say from the moment they’d ended their search, reverently circling over the spot where Onofrio found his wife. Manos knew what he had to say, starting with an opening paragraph to set the tone for what was to follow. Once underway, it all flowed easily as he detailed the original parameters of the search, his reasoning behind calling for a significant shift in those parameters, and the success gained by making that shift, as demonstrated in a detailed description of what he’d found, with photos attached.

But now came the hard part.

CONCLUSIONS.

Everything he’d written up until that point wouldn’t go far toward bettering his career if he couldn’t come up with a powerful answer to the most obvious of questions: What does all this mean?

It was the kind of question that screamed out for a prudent, well-worn, bureaucratic response along the lines of, ‘investigation continues,’ but that sort of wishy-washy non-conclusion would undercut the significance of what he had found. He needed to come up with a truly ‘red-meat’ answer that would make his bosses sit up and take notice.

On their way back to Athens, he and Pete had tossed around various theories of what might have happened, but none struck Manos as realistic. Then again, considering how much of the world was embracing artificial intelligence in heretofore unimaginable ways, ‘realistic’ didn’t necessarily mean what it once had.

He sighed, leaned his head back and shut his eyes. What makes the most sense?

Without thinking he began typing.

The only explanation for why the body of Dimitris Onofrio’s wife Alexandra Boutsis washed up where it did was because she survived the crash, and left the crash site heading north under power, where for some yet to be determined reason she died of catastrophic wounds suggestive of a collision at sea.

If subsequent investigation by police or other authorities establishes that the parachute discovered along the Gulf was or could have been on board the plane, I would submit (a) Boutsis used it to escape the plane before the crash, and (b) absent the possibility of a motorized life raft being on board the aircraft, she was met by a person or persons unknown and traveled north by boat to a location unknown for reasons unknown.

He read it three times, the same number of times as he crossed himself. What he’d written said it all, maybe too much. But if he was going for the brass ring, he’d better give it his best shot.

Finished, and ready to enter his report into the system, he paused to consider what possible changes Niko would suggest. He smiled as he added a final line.

I thankfully acknowledge the invaluable assistance I received in conducting this investigation from Petros ‘Pete’ Mavromichalis.

‘Morning, Chief.’

‘Morning, Maggie. Any news I might have missed?’

‘News or gossip?’

‘Whatever you think is more likely to start my day off on an upbeat note.’

‘King Charles III loves wearing his Greek flag tie when visiting the British Museum.’

‘That’s the best you can come up with?’

‘I consider it upbeat.’

‘It will be a lot more upbeat when he wears that tie to the New Acropolis Museum to bring the Parthenon Sculptures back home.’

‘Ah, I see the mood this morning is “grumpy.”’

‘Better believe it. The ridiculous extremes I’m forced to endure in order to keep tabs on the Onofrio investigation have worn my patience down to thinner than my dear mother’s flakiest phyllo dough. Last night, I not only had to listen in on a telephone conversation between my wife and Reichardt as if I were an eavesdropper but had to write out my questions for him and pass them on to Lila to ask. I couldn’t possibly have felt more ridiculous, especially since Reichardt knew perfectly well that I was there. A child could figure out what we were doing.’

‘How did last night’s message to Onofrio go?’

‘No news yet … or gossip.’

Ring, ring.

‘It’s Lila.’ Andreas reached for his mobile. ‘Hi, darling, what’s up?’

‘I just received a call from Niko Reichardt.’

‘Speak of the devil … Maggie and I were just talking about him and this game of telephone we’re playing.’

‘He wants you to call him immediately.’

‘But I thought we weren’t supposed to speak to each other.’

‘He said it’s about something different and urgent. He wouldn’t tell me what it was.’

‘Fine, what’s his number?’

Andreas marked down the number, sent a kiss goodbye, and called.

Niko picked up on the first ring. ‘Chief Inspector?’

‘Yes, Andreas Kaldis here. I understand you have something critical to tell me.’

‘I guess you haven’t heard.’

‘Heard what?’

‘The young man at AAIASB charged with investigating the Onofrio crash was found dead this morning.’

Andreas shivered. ‘Manos?’

‘Yes. A real tragedy. I really liked the kid.’

‘I liked him too. How did you learn he died?’

‘We were supposed to talk first thing this morning about a report he planned on submitting to his superiors setting forth his conclusions on the Onofrio crash.’ Niko sighed. ‘When I didn’t hear from him, I called his office, and that’s when they told me.’

‘Do you know any details?’

‘I spoke to an old friend from my days at the Board who told me he was found dead after midnight on the sidewalk in front of their office building, next to where he’d parked his motorbike.’

‘How did he die?’

‘The police who responded to the call said he appeared to be the victim of a hit-and-run driver. Likely a drunk or doped-up zombie too screwed up to even know what he did.’

‘Any thoughts on that analysis?’

‘That’s really your bailiwick, Chief Inspector.’

‘Don’t hustle a hustler. We’re both thinking the same thing.’

‘Yeah, it’s far too much of a coincidence that he should die on the day he planned on submitting his report to the Board.’

‘Unwelcome reports on the Onofrios do seem to have a nasty habit of getting their authors killed.’

‘In ways made to look like accidents, if I’m to believe what I read in the papers.’

‘What’s your take on our chances of finding a copy of his report?’

‘These days, reports are filed at the Board electronically, so it’s possible he filed it before being killed. If so, we should be able to get a copy. I’ll see what I can do.’

‘If he filed and you can’t get a copy, let me know and I’ll do it the cop way.’

‘Dare I ask what that is?’

‘You can ask, but you and I aren’t supposed to be in communication.’

‘A procedure that, in my humble opinion, sucks.’

‘Tell me about it.’ Andreas paused. ‘As a matter of fact, I think it’s time to change the rules. I’ll let you know how that goes, but in the meantime, I’d appreciate it if you could give me a list of anyone who knew about Manos’s report or his conclusions.’

‘Will do, but don’t expect any surprises because it’s us, the principals of LV Lines, and Pete the pilot who flew him over the Gulf for two days.’

‘Thanks.’

After hanging up, Andreas dropped his head into his hands, with his elbows on his desktop.

‘From what I heard of your side of the conversation, some awful tragedy has occurred. Do you think Onofrio is involved?’

‘I hope not.’ Andreas did not move.

‘What’s bothering you?’

‘My message last night to him mentioned an aviation accident investigator who’d found items related to the crash. If someone feared what the investigator knew or might figure out from those items, it could lead a paranoid to do away with the investigator.’

‘That sounds a bit tenuous. After all, Onofrio is still catatonic.’

‘Or so we think. But then there’s the recording. The nurse hears it, and who knows who else might have heard it, with or without the nurse’s knowledge.’

‘I can’t imagine she’d be the source.’

‘At this point everyone involved is suspicious.’ He lifted his head and sighed. ‘Obviously the risks are far greater and more immediate than I suspected. If someone is willing to murder an innocent government investigator for simply doing his job, he or she could go after any of us.’

‘What do you plan on doing?’

‘I can tell you what I’m not prepared to do. I’m done playing the Minister’s see-no-evil game.’ Andreas slammed his hands on his desktop and jumped up from his chair. ‘Call the Minister, tell him I’m on my way over and that he damn well better see me immediately.’

Andreas stomped into the ministry and aimed for the Minister’s office.

‘Dora, is he in and expecting me?’

The Minister’s administrative assistant nodded. ‘Yes. But he asked that you leave your firearm with me.’

‘This isn’t funny,’ he barked.

‘He knows it. That’s why he wants you to give me your gun.’

Andreas ignored her, pulled open the door to her boss’s office, and headed straight for the Minister sitting behind his desk.

‘To what do I owe the sudden display of temper, Chief Inspector?’

Andreas heard Dora close the door and turned to be sure she’d remained outside. ‘Don’t play coy with me. This Onofrio crash investigation is now way beyond kowtowing to political pressure. It’s approaching accessory-to-murder status.’

The Minister blanched. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘Late last night a bright young investigator with the AAIASB was killed outside his office by an alleged hit-and-run driver, hours before he was to submit a report detailing his findings and conclusions on the Onofrio plane crash. We’re now up to two confirmed dead, and four more presumed to be, all tied into the crash. How many more is it going to take before you grow a set of balls and allow this investigation to go ahead in the manner that it should?’

‘If I didn’t know you so well, I’d really be pissed at your questioning my anatomy. What makes you think this investigator’s death wasn’t an accident?’

‘I can’t say for sure because it undoubtedly ties into the Onofrio crash – a case you’ve forbidden me to investigate. But one thing I can say for certain is that there’s no longer a legitimate basis for considering the Onofrio crash to be anything other than a homicide. Five, to be precise.’

‘How can you be so sure of that?’

‘Because I’m a cop. And what that young man had to say would likely have blown the lid off the plausible-deniability comfort zone many in authority seem to have found in chalking the crash up to an accident.’

The Minister’s face reddened. ‘Now just a minute, Andreas. You’re going a bit far in your accusations.’

‘Did I touch a nerve? Well, I’ll make it simple. I’m done playing along with your do-what-you-must-but-don’t-let-me-find-out routine. I either walk out of this office with your full support to pursue the plane crash and hit-and-run investigations my way, or I walk out of here a civilian.’

‘I really don’t want to lose you, Andreas, but if you’re going to threaten me—’

‘Excuse me, Minster, while I sweeten your perceived pot of threats. When I walk out of here, I’ll conduct an immediate press conference in which I’ll announce the apparent murder of a dedicated public servant who was about to release his conclusions on the Onofrio plane crash. I will add that, since I’ve been ordered to stand down from any investigation into the young man’s death or the Onofrio crash, I’ve decided to resign my position as Chief Inspector for Special Crimes, in order to continue those investigations in my capacity as a private citizen. After all, the public deserves to know the truth.’

‘You wouldn’t dare.’

‘Watch me.’ Andreas felt his heart pounding loud enough to almost hear it. ‘I’ve known you far too long to accuse you of being corrupt, but by keeping me off this case to please your political masters you’re giving killers free rein to do whatever they think is necessary to protect their secrets. First, they downed a plane with six people on board and now they’ve killed a government investigator. How many more must die before you do something? At least let me do something.’

Both men sat silently staring at each other.

‘Are you worried about Lila and her father’s involvement in LV Lines?’ asked the Minister at last.

‘Why didn’t you tell me you knew?’ scowled Andreas.

‘I didn’t think I had to. But I understand your concern. Are you prepared for the inevitable rush of media attention they’ll receive if you follow through on resigning?’

‘Is that a threat?’

‘Absolutely not, but once the press focuses on you, the fact that your wife and her father own the company that owned the plane will become a part of the story, possibly a central part. Up until now, anyone who might have chased down their names hadn’t likely made the connection to you or saw no value in making an issue of it.’

‘I appreciate your concern, Minister. But the bottom line is, until I nail whoever is responsible for the crash, my family’s a target anyway – either of Onofrio and his paranoia or of those who see their carefully constructed plan for making the crash appear an accident unraveling and are in abject fear of leaving anyone alive who might unmask them.’

‘Either way, that’s quite a risk you’re taking.’

‘I see no other choice, as I have skin in the game. Now’s the time to be proactive, not reactive.’

The Minister paused. ‘That’s a point for us each to consider.’

Andreas said nothing.

The Minister pointed toward the door. ‘Just get the hell out of here and don’t do anything stupid that might get you killed.’

Andreas smiled. ‘Good advice, but it’s too late for me. I’ve been doing stupid things all my life.’

‘That makes two of us. Now go catch the bad guys.’

‘Welcome back, Chief. Assuming I still can call you Chief,’ grinned Maggie.

Andreas stopped beside her desk. ‘I’m certain Dora would have given you a heads-up if I were coming back to pack up my office.’

‘She said it was iffy at times as to how things might turn out.’

Andreas shook his head. ‘I see the Minister labors under the same mistaken impression as me that a closed-door meeting means those on the outside can’t hear what’s being said on the inside.’

‘It’s not the words, but your volume and tone that tip us off. If your boss’s office door is rattling off its hinges, it’s a safe bet tempers are flaring inside. But as long as no one storms out and voices drop back to inaudible levels, it generally means all’s back to normal.’

‘Or that one of us has killed the other.’ He started toward his office. ‘Round up Yianni and Tassos. I might just have bitten off more than we can chew.’

‘Should I include Niko Reichardt?’

‘Why?’

‘Because he emailed me the document that I printed and put on your desk.’

‘Great. Yes, definitely include him. I like the way he makes things happen.’ Andreas sat at his desk and picked up Manos’s report. The first thing he noticed was a notation stamped on its cover sheet marking the document as filed with AAIASB at 01:15 that morning. Likely minutes before he was killed and while still bursting with pride at a job well done.

Andreas crossed himself and said a prayer.

Now it’s up to us to do ours.

Andreas had just finished reading Manos’s report when Yianni and Maggie marched into his office.

‘Tassos is waiting for us to call him when you’re ready. I left word for Niko to call me as soon as he gets off the golf course.’

‘Golf course? Doesn’t he realize this is important?’

‘Have you heard his outgoing voicemail greeting? “I’m generally unavailable every morning between 08:00 and 11:00, unless of course, you happen to be golfing with me at the time.”’

‘He does have style,’ said Yianni.

‘And gets things done,’ said Andreas, waving his copy of the report at Yianni.

‘I know,’ said Yianni. ‘Maggie gave me a copy. If Manos is right in his conclusions, we’re dealing with a potential conspiracy of hardcore killers.’

‘Frankly, from what Niko told Lila and me last night, in his opinion it’s a likely case of one spouse plotting the death of the other, with the likely planner being the one who bailed out of the plane.’

‘Alexandra?’ said Maggie.

Yianni cocked his head to the side and frowned. ‘But why would a wife, or husband for that matter, go to such crazy extremes to wipe out the other when the goal could have been achieved far more easily and assuredly with a barrage of bullets at any one of their many public appearances. Even a crude car bomb could have done the job. And if the goal was to make it look like an accident, there were any number of far less complex ways to pull that off than by trying to stage an elaborate plane crash.’

‘Yes,’ said Maggie. ‘Like the hit-and-run that took that poor boy’s life.’ She crossed herself.

Andreas nodded. ‘I agree. For either Onofrio or Boutsis, or anyone else for that matter, to go to the elaborate lengths Manos’s report and Niko’s theory suggest, there must have been a far more complex goal in play than simple assassination.’

‘Perhaps it was planned as revenge for what Onofrio had done to someone’s family. There must be a long list of takers willing to jump in on that opportunity,’ said Yianni.

‘Revenge just doesn’t strike me as a motive for such a complicated plan. There must be more to it. Or at least more people involved,’ said Andreas. ‘But I’m at a total loss for a reason or motive.’

‘You’re not alone in that,’ said Yianni.

‘For sure,’ added Maggie.

Andreas dropped Manos’s report on his desktop. ‘We really need to get Niko’s input on this. He’s the aviation expert. Let’s reconvene at 11:30, by which time I assume he’ll be available. And keep chasing down leads and hunches supporting other theories and potential actors. That might just give us a solid lead on who’s responsible for Manos’s murder.’

Yianni stood up. ‘I’ll see what I can dig up on who sells the brand and model of parachute in question, and if we’re lucky, the identity of any purchasers.’

‘Good idea, but while you’re at it, see if anyone connected to the crash has parachute experience, or was capable of teaching someone on the plane to jump out of a private jet at low altitude without getting killed. Though I suspect our jumper is already dead. Or catatonic.’ Andreas bit at his lip.

‘OK, I’ll see you all back here at 11:30.’

‘How did your game go this morning?’ Andreas asked when Niko joined Tassos, Maggie, Yianni, and him on an 11:30 Zoom call.

‘It wasn’t what I’d call a game. I walked the course alone and didn’t keep score. I was trying to clear my head.’ He shook his head. ‘What a bright future Manos had before him. I simply can’t get my mind around the sort of ghoul who’d snuff out the life of such a decent young man.’

‘I hear you, Niko,’ said Tassos, ‘but I’m sad to say our job as cops more often than not has us dealing with ghouls, and worse. It’s enough to sour you on life if you’re not careful.’

‘But it’s also what motivates us to do whatever it takes to stop the bad guys before they can do more harm,’ added Andreas. ‘And that’s what makes your assistance so valuable.’

‘So, what can I do to help?’

‘According to his report, Manos believed someone aboard the plane managed to don a low-altitude parachute tethered to an uninflated emergency raft, open an exterior door, and bail out with no one attempting to stop the jumper or prevent the plane from subsequently crashing. How much of that sounds plausible to you?’

Niko frowned. ‘It depends. I know you don’t like that answer but let me tell you why that’s the best I can do.’ He cleared his throat. ‘It is conceivable that a parachutist could successfully jump from that model Gulfstream without being sliced and diced by a wing or engine. The jumper would need to exit from the aft baggage area under the left engine housing through an open baggage door. But in order to achieve that, the plane must be depressurized so that the baggage door can open.’

‘Is depressurization why we’re talking about low-altitude flying?’ asked Maggie.

‘No. Cabins are pressurized to maintain a cabin altitude equivalent of 8,000 feet. In other words, at below 8,000 feet you can fly safely without pressurizing the cabin. The low altitude was more likely intended to reduce the plane’s speed and lessen the risk of exposing the jumper to detection once out of the plane.’

‘But how could all that be happening without the crew noticing something wasn’t right?’ asked Maggie.

‘I assume the air pressurization system was sabotaged and the crew and everyone else on board, except the jumper, had succumbed to hypoxia.’

‘But how did the plane go from flying at an actual altitude far above cabin altitude to an altitude far lower without a functioning crew?’ asked Yianni.

‘I suspect the plane was flying on autopilot,’ answered Niko. ‘Which means someone on board other than the crew knew how to operate the autopilot and pressurization systems. I assume that person was our jumper.’

‘How realistic is it that one person could have done all of that?’ said Yianni.

‘If everyone capable of stopping our jumper was immobilized by a lack of oxygen, it would be easy enough for a trained person to have done all that.’

‘Manos’s assumption is that the jumper was Alexandra Boutsis,’ said Maggie. ‘Is that possible?’

‘If you mean, was she physically capable of performing the required acts? Yes, assuming she avoided hypoxia, she could have done it all on her own. As to whether she had the requisite training, I can’t speak to that, but it wouldn’t be difficult for her to acquire.’

Andreas started to speak, but Niko held up his hand to stop him.

‘Sorry to interrupt your thought, but there’s a caveat to what I just said. Once she was in the water, someone must have been in the area waiting to pick her up. Otherwise, she’d literally be stuck in her raft in the middle of the sea, alone without a paddle.’

‘And no rescue beacon,’ said Andreas.

‘Precisely.’

‘So, you agree with Manos that our jumper likely had at least one accomplice,’ said Yianni.

‘Yes.’

‘Two simple questions if I may, Niko,’ said Tassos.

‘Uh-oh, in my experience they’re the toughest ones to answer.’

Tassos waved him off. ‘Whoever the jumper was, how in the world did he or she avoid hypoxia without the others on board noticing the jumper sucking away on an oxygen supply while everyone else on board was passing out? And for my second question, why in the world would Alexandra Boutsis be involved in any of this?’

‘Those,’ said Niko, ‘are questions I respectfully leave for you dedicated detectives to answer.’

‘What are the chances of recovering the plane?’ asked Maggie.

‘It can be done, the only question is whether it warrants the expense of raising it. Keep in mind that when the plane hit the water at speed, with the baggage door presumably still open, it likely went from being a plane to a boat to a submarine in a matter of minutes.’

‘Last night you told Lila that this was likely a case of one spouse plotting the death of the other, and that the one who jumped was the plotter. Do you still feel that way?’

‘It’s the only explanation that makes sense to me.’

‘Understood,’ said Andreas, ‘but you’re not basing your opinion on science or evidence but on deduction.’

‘Yes, it’s possible any of the other four on the plane was the jumper and Alexandra was simply as lucky as her husband to survive. But I wouldn’t say it’s probable. My money’s on Alexandra and at least one co-conspirator being behind the crash.’

‘If I read you correctly,’ said Andreas, ‘you agree that everything in Manos’s report is possible?’

‘Yes. But that doesn’t mean it’s necessarily all provable. A lot of what we do is driven by instinct and hunches. His report expresses his best efforts in that regard.’

‘How close to the truth would you say his report likely is?’ asked Tassos.

‘The best measure of that for me is simply this: What he wrote cost him his life.’

No one said a word until one said, ‘Amen.’

And all repeated it. In unison.

FOURTEEN

After lunch, Andreas reflected on what he should say in his evening message to Onofrio. He’d read the police forensic team’s report of its examination of the scene where Manos died, and it made his blood boil to think of Onofrio having anything to do with such a brutal assassination. Yet, his instincts kept telling him Onofrio was not involved, and not simply because he lay incommunicado in a hospital bed under 24/7 police watch.

Onofrio was as skilled as anyone in Greece at doing away with perceived threats in a manner readily attributable to an accident. As much as Andreas viscerally felt Onofrio’s hand behind Manos’s murder, he couldn’t bring himself to call it an Onofrio-directed hit. On the other hand, he couldn’t ignore the possibility of Onofrio’s involvement. In either case, if Andreas was to maintain whatever modicum of trust he’d built up with Onofrio, he had to tell him about Manos’s murder and the report that likely cost him his life.

But first he needed to warn another whose life might be at risk because of his role in Manos’s investigation.

‘Maggie, is Yianni in the office?’ he called out through the open doorway.

‘Not sure, Chief. Do you want to see him?’

‘As soon as he’s available.’

‘Will do.’

Andreas stared out the window. No way I’m going to let another innocent be blindsided for simply doing his job.

Spata – not Sparta – has been described as a nondescript, middle-class, residential eastern suburb of Athens that since the Middle Ages has been mainly inhabited by Greeks of Albanian origin known as Arvanites. Once also known for its vineyards, olive groves, fig and nut trees, it still remains surrounded in part by farmland, though today it is far better known as the municipal seat of government for the geographical region encompassing Venizelos International Airport and Greece’s largest zoo.

It’s also where AAIASB has an office at the airport, which at least one of the agency’s helicopter pilots calls home. Yianni arranged to meet Petros Mavromichalis at a small taverna close by his apartment in central Spata.

Petros waved to Yianni as he walked through the door. He sat at a table next to a much older man sporting a flowing white mane. As Yianni approached Petros, he stood up and extended his hand.

‘Detective Kouros, I presume.’

Yianni shook his hand. ‘Yes, but how did you know it was me?’

‘Because no one but a cop or politician on the make wears a suit in here.’

Yianni laughed. ‘And who is this gentleman?’ he said, extending his hand to the seated man.

‘He’s my cousin Pericles. He owns this taverna.’

Pericles stood to shake hands with Yianni. ‘I’ll leave you two youngsters.’

‘Thanks, cuz.’

They sat down, and Petros pointed to a bottle of tsipouro on the table. ‘Courtesy of my cousin.’

‘Thank him for me, please, but I’m still on duty.’

‘Me too,’ Petros said, taking a sip of what looked like water and ice, but was considerably more powerful. ‘I know why you’re here. Terrible what happened to Manos. Just terrible.’ He took a bigger sip.

‘My boss wanted to make sure you knew that we believe it was an assassination, not an accident.’

‘Thank you, but I figured as much. After all, my trade has me working closely with accident investigators … and practically everyone in our office was all over the forensic crew conducting an investigation into the death of one of our own – right on our doorstep.’

Yianni nodded. ‘Did you also know that Manos gave you credit in his report for your assistance in conducting the investigation that got him killed?’

‘Yes, I’ve read the whole report. And just to be clear, it’s not fear that has me drinking.’ He picked up his glass and took a quick swig. ‘It’s anger. I’d just love for whoever did this to my friend to make the mistake of coming after me. Between my Mani roots and my cousin’s Albanian blood, we’d take those bastards apart.’ Petros took another swig. ‘Manos was my friend. A new friend, yes, but still a friend. You kill a friend of one of us, and you’ve made a blood enemy of all of us.’

Yianni sighed. ‘Well, I came here to warn you about your personal safety; now I’m compelled to warn you to not take your anger on to the street. If you have ideas of revenge, run them past me before you do anything rash.’

‘Why should I?’

‘Because my roots are also in the Mani, and vendetta has plagued my family for generations. Let us finish what someone else started.’

‘What’s your family name?’

Yianni told him his father’s and mother’s last names.

‘Blessed Mary, we’re cousins on your mother’s side.’ He leaned over and hugged Yianni. ‘Come, you must have a drink,’ he said, pouring a few shots of tsipouro into a tall glass.

‘Whoa. I do have to drive back.’

‘Don’t worry. I’ll fly you to wherever you have to be.’ He smiled broadly. ‘Only kidding.’

Yianni added water and ice to his glass, lifted it toward Petros and said ‘yamas’ in a toast to their health.

‘Yamas,’ shouted Petros, as did Pericles from across the room.

‘Feed us, Pericles, I’ve just discovered a new cousin.’ He lifted his glass again.

Yianni waved for him to slow down a bit. ‘Before we get too far into the tsipouro, can you think of anything Manos left out of his report that might be relevant to why he was murdered?’

‘He left nothing out of his report that I can think of. But he did leave some things in my helicopter that we found in the search area. See, he came to meet me on his motorbike to fly with me to the southern Peloponnese. When we returned yesterday, there was no way he could get the stuff back to the office on his bike, so I told him I’d drop them off today. But with all that’s happened, and not seeing anyone clearly in charge of deciding where things go from here, I decided to hang on to them.’

‘Where are they?’

‘Outside, in the back of my car.’

‘Do you mind if I take a look at them?’

‘As a matter of fact, I’d mind if you didn’t take them off my hands. I can’t do anything with them, and since you’re conducting the investigation into Manos’s death …’ He shrugged.

‘Done. Thank you.’

Petros raised his glass. ‘To Manos.’

‘Yamas,’ again came echoing back at them from across the room, accompanied by Pericles and another man carrying armloads of plated food descending upon their table. The food came in tranches.

First, fava with onions and capers; baked white eggplant in tomato sauce with feta and fresh basil; grilled halloumi cheese with grilled tomatoes and olive oil; and grilled Albanian sausages alongside fried potatoes. Next, a salad of spinach, red and green leaf lettuce, spring onions, dill, orange, walnuts, parmesan, pomegranate, and balsamic vinaigrette with honey; a second salad of cucumber, tomato, onion, green pepper, boiled potato, Cretan cottage cheese, olives, croutons, fresh olive oil, capers, and Cretan salt; and grilled octopus with fresh oregano, and balsamic vinaigrette. Followed up by lamb in yogurt sauce with mint, coriander, and cracked wheat.

‘What is this?’ asked Yianni. ‘There’s enough here to feed an army.’

‘It’s a Maniot welcome for a new cousin.’

Yianni laughed. ‘Whether it’s Spata or Sparta, it’s always the same warm, generous hospitality. Yamas.’

‘Yamas.’

‘Yamas.’

Dimitris, it’s Andreas here.

I have serious news to pass along. It concerns a young man assigned by the Air Accident Investigation and Aviation Safety Board to look into your plane crash. Last night, shortly after submitting his report and conclusions to the Board, he was struck and killed in what the responding police initially characterized as a hit-and-run accident.

But you and I both know an accidental hit-and-run driver doesn’t swoop up on to a sidewalk, plow into his victim, drive over the body with his front and rear wheels, back up, and repeat the process not once, not twice, but three more times.

I am recounting all this because I promised to tell you the truth about your crash as I learn of it.

I’m about to read to you the ‘conclusions’ portion of the now-murdered investigator’s report. With his murder, I am now the person charged with carrying on his investigation. If, after hearing the final words he will ever write, you are as dedicated as I am to unearthing the complete truth, I will need your help. It may be unpleasant for you to hear these words, but here they are if you choose to listen:

‘The only explanation for why the body of Dimitris Onofrio’s wife Alexandra Boutsis washed up where it did was because she survived the crash, and left the crash site heading north under power, where for some yet to be determined reason, she died of catastrophic wounds suggestive of a collision at sea.

‘If subsequent investigation by police or other authorities establishes that the parachute discovered along the Gulf was or could have been on board the plane, I would submit (a) Boutsis used it to escape the plane before the crash, and (b) absent the possibility of a motorized life boat being on board the flight, she was met by a person or persons unknown and traveled north by power boat to a location unknown for reasons unknown.’

That concludes his report, Dimitris, but with your help, not the investigation.

Goodnight and perastiká.

‘Morning, Chief,’ said Yianni, walking into Andreas’s office.

‘Morning, Yianni. How did your meeting go yesterday afternoon with the helicopter pilot?’

‘It turns out that we’re related, cousins through my mother, so my warning turned into a family reunion.’

‘What kind of reunion?’

‘Let’s put it this way. I doubt I’d have passed a sobriety test had I been stopped. Plus, I must have gained a couple of kilos.’

‘I’m happy for you and your new cousin, but does he recognize the risk he could be facing?’

‘He said he does, and he has a macho attitude toward it, so I’d say yes, he appreciates it. Whether he’ll take greater precautions is something I can only hope for.’

‘Yes, let’s both hope he does. Did anything else come out of your get-together, besides a hangover?’

‘As a matter of fact, yes. Three very important items: the parachute, water jugs, and cushion described in Manos’s report.’

‘Where are they?’

‘First thing this morning I checked them into the evidence room. The life raft is still with the man who discovered it.’

‘Contact the local police and arrange for them to take the raft into custody. Any luck on tracing the source of the parachute?’

‘More places than I imagined sell parachutes in greater Athens. But only three carry the brand Manos found. It’s military-grade.’

‘Any luck with them?’

‘Not yet, but I’ve asked each of them for a list of everyone who purchased that model chute going back as far as they keep records. Still waiting for responses.’

‘What’s with the cushion?’

‘Christos Vlahous said the photo of the cushion accompanying Manos’s report looked like a bench-seat cushion from the plane.’

Andreas sighed. ‘So where does that leave us?’

Yianni shrugged. ‘Waiting for something or someone to point us in the right direction for finding a why for what’s gone down.’

Maggie leaned in through the doorway. ‘Yianni, it’s the sergeant from the evidence room. He has a question for you.’

‘Can’t it wait?’

‘He said no.’

‘Put the call in here,’ said Andreas. ‘I wonder what he wants.’

‘Likely some form I forgot to fill out.’

Andreas pointed to the blinking button on his desk phone and motioned for him to sit across from him. ‘Here, talk to him on my speaker so I can listen in. That’ll spare you the burden of fielding my questions on what he wanted.’

When Andreas pressed the blinking button, Yianni began talking, ‘Detective Kouros here.’

‘Detective, I’m calling from the evidence room. We have a couple of questions about the three items you checked in earlier.’

‘What do you want to know?’

‘Are they all tied to the same case?’

‘Yes, but why do you ask?’

‘Narcotics wants to know.’

‘Why would Narcotics be interested?’

‘Because when we’re asked to hold drugs, special security measures are required to assure the drugs aren’t “misplaced,” if you get my drift.’

‘Not really. What drugs are you talking about?’

‘The ones that set Narcotics’ drug-sniffing Labrador barking and pawing away like crazy at the cushion.’

Andreas interrupted. ‘Sergeant, this is Chief Inspector Andreas Kaldis. We’ll be right down. Don’t do a thing until we get there. Understood?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Great.’ He hung up and, with a dumbstruck look on his face, turned his head to stare at Yianni. ‘Is this the why moment you were hoping for a couple of minutes ago?’

Yianni got up from his chair and headed toward the door. ‘Not at all. As a matter of fact, I’d characterize this more as a WTF moment.’

Andreas trailed behind him, shaking his head from side to side. ‘You got that right.’

‘So, sergeant, what do we have?’ asked Andreas.

‘One happy Labrador pleased with earning its pay.’

‘Nice to know someone’s happy,’ muttered Kouros.

‘I get the impression neither of you expected there to be drugs inside the cushion.’

‘You got that right,’ said Andreas. ‘Any idea what the drug is?’

‘Not yet. No one’s touched the cushion. It shouldn’t be hard to identify it, though, once we get a sample.’

‘What about a guess?’

‘Statistically, I’d say cocaine. Next to cannabis, it’s the second most commonly used illicit drug in Europe.’

‘I’d have thought that would be heroin,’ said Yianni.

‘That’s number three on the hit parade, but it’s fallen out of favor with younger users while cocaine just keeps on moving up the charts, as does drug-related gang violence and homicides tied into all levels of cocaine distribution. It’s largely smuggled from South America into major European seaports on container ships, and from there distributed to the lucrative user markets of northern Europe. Recently, amid all the anti-drug activity at the busiest ports, smugglers have taken to using smaller ports over which they can exercise more control along the supply chain through corruption, intimidation, and violence.’

‘You sound like an expert on the subject,’ said Andreas.

‘Hardly. It’s just that practically every day there’s a new batch of drugs brought in here, along with new stories from the DEA guys who day-in and day-out risk busting smugglers. They tell me about new techniques and horrors the drug dealers are employing to get their stuff into the noses and veins of as many young people as they can. It’s disgusting, especially to anyone who has kids.’

‘Amen,’ said Andreas.

‘As soon as you give me the go-ahead, I’ll get the lab to do its magic. They should be able to tell you a lot about this particular shipment. Everything from its source to the number of times it’s been stepped on, which might also give them an idea of where it was headed.’

‘The cushion came from a private jet,’ said Yianni.

The sergeant shook his head. ‘Wow, that sounds like something only a novice or a very connected smuggler would do. Using a private jet to smuggle drugs is an obvious ploy. Smuggling drugs inside a cushion on a private jet is ludicrous. Even the most cursory of examinations would include cushions, and if a drug-sniffer gets its nose on it … well, you get the picture.’

‘Sounds almost like someone wanted to be caught,’ said Yianni.

‘Or knew they wouldn’t be searched,’ responded the sergeant.

Yianni exhaled with a nod. ‘Thanks, sergeant, we’ll get out of your hair. Please just tell the lab to get me their results ASAP.’

‘Ah, yes, your request for this department’s most often requested delivery option is duly noted and shall be passed along at once.’

‘Thanks,’ said Andreas, followed by a nod to the sergeant from Yianni.

As soon as they were out of earshot of the evidence room Andreas began to chuckle. ‘That sergeant is a free-spirited sort of guy.’

‘Some might say weird.’

‘No, he’s got the right attitude. Stuck in a job cataloging other cops’ successes and bad guys’ defeats, one could become officious, belligerent, and humorless. Instead, this guy chose to become a casual police historian and raconteur.’

‘I liked him too, but what’s your bottom line take on a cushion full of drugs being on a flight chartered by Onofrio? Oh, and to state the obvious: There were plenty more cushions on the plane, so no telling how many were packed with drugs.’

‘Whether one cushion or a hundred, my bottom-line opinion doesn’t change. It makes no sense at all for Onofrio to board a plane with his wife knowing it was transporting drugs. And even less so if they were his drugs. He’s not only far too smart to do anything like that, but too rich to risk it. Besides, he knows he has enemies out there salivating for an opportunity that would put him squarely in the middle of a major drug bust.’

‘OK, Chief, but if Onofrio wasn’t behind the drugs, who put them on to that plane?’

‘Someone looking to tie those who died in the crash to major drug-smuggling operations and deny them potential martyr status in the eyes of the public, or at least destroy the political ambitions of his wife should she survive the crash.’

‘That’s a possibility, but it still doesn’t tell us who put the drugs on the plane.’

‘You know the obvious answer to that question as well as I do.’

Yianni clenched his lips, then relaxed. ‘Someone connected to LV Lines.’

‘Yes. But how? As a passenger, pilot, maintenance worker, manager, owner, or some other position? Or is it simply someone who happens to have a connection to any or all of the above?’

‘Plus, anyone who knew the plane wouldn’t be searched.’ Yianni sighed as he shook his head. ‘So, where do you suggest we go from here?’

‘Back to where we began. Back to checking and verifying the backgrounds of everyone having anything to do with LV Lines for any ties to smuggling, parachuting, drug use, or criminal gangs, either directly or indirectly. Be sure to keep an eye out for anyone vulnerable to intimidation or blackmail. And don’t forget whoever’s involved in this is also likely tied into Manos’s murder.’

Yianni paused. ‘Are you saying everyone is a suspect?’

Andreas drew in and let out a deep breath. ‘Yes, everyone. No exceptions.’

Last night was the fifth in a row that Dimitris had listened to a nighttime message from the cop. He knew a lot about cops. It was essential for survival in his line of business that he did. As a general rule, he considered cops a burden and avoided them, except for the few he held close. Those cops he took very good care of, and they in turn did the same for him. He could use them now. But he could not speak, he could not write, he could not communicate. There was no way to let them know what he needed them to do, and even if he could, what would he say? That he couldn’t recall what happened to him? That he couldn’t believe what happened to him? That he couldn’t accept as true what his mind told him he’d witnessed? That he could no longer discern between delusion and reality?

Who would believe him when he couldn’t believe himself?

Am I insane? Have I lost my mind?

No, not if the cop who spoke to him at night were to be believed. Not if the cop was real.

But was he real? How could he possibly know about the parachute, about Alexandra, about the raft stripped of its rescue gear, and about the power boat that took her away? Yes, the power boat. How could he know?

Dmitris Onofrio wondered if the cop and his nighttime messages were creations of his own imagination.

Unless I arranged it. Unless I’m behind it all.

I can’t trust this cop. I can’t trust anyone. I can’t even trust myself.

Maggie spent most of her morning and early afternoon reaching out to her broad inter-ministerial network of senior administrative personnel for deep background they might have on a long list of persons related to LV Lines, including Lila and her father. For good measure, Maggie added Niko’s name and his brief bio to the list, plus a request for the names of all persons known to bear a grudge against Dimitris Onofrio or his wife – a list she expected might well rival the length of the Bible.

Tassos and Yianni pressed their contacts for similar info.

The first results came in around mid-afternoon.

‘Chief,’ said Maggie, walking into Andreas’s office, ‘I just heard back from the Ministry of National Defense. There is a file on every man on the list, which is to be expected, what with Greece’s compulsory military service. But nowhere is there any indication of a dishonorable discharge or significant disciplinary infraction.’

‘That’s it?’

‘Nope. Did you know that Lila’s father was a Hellenic Army Aviation pilot in the early sixties, when the first helicopters were introduced into military service?’

‘Yes, I think he did mainly search-and-rescue.’

‘Which means he likely knows about parachutes.’

Andreas stared at her. ‘Yes, but at his age and current medical condition I think it’s safe to assume he’s not up to jumping out of a jet plane into the open sea.’

‘But he could have trained someone how to do it.’

‘Like his daughter, perhaps?’

Maggie frowned. ‘I’m just following your instructions to consider no one above suspicion.’

‘Fine, put your observations into your report. Anything else?’

‘Yes, we know that LV Lines’ operations guy, Christos Vlahous, was a military pilot assigned to the Foreign Ministry, where he knew Alexandra Boutsis. What we didn’t know is that prior to his military service he worked as an aviation mechanic.’

Andreas nodded. ‘Which means he conceivably knew enough to sabotage the plane. But it also adds weight to why he was hired to run the company in the first place. He knows the industry inside and out.’ He picked up a pencil. ‘What about his assistant. The guy called Lefteris Drivas?’

‘No criminal or military record beyond compulsory service. A bookkeeper.’

‘Anything on Niko Reichardt?’

‘Nothing beyond what we already know, though my friend at the Tax Authority wonders how someone who declares such modest income can live as high-end a lifestyle as he does, playing so much golf and jetting around the world.’

He sighed. ‘What’s interesting to me about what got your friend to wondering, is how an employee of the Greek Tax Authority can still be surprised at such a scenario, what with tax avoidance being our nation’s number-one participatory pastime.’

Maggie frowned. ‘No reason to be snide. She’s just trying to be helpful.’

Andreas raised his hands. ‘You’re right. I’m out of line. I apologize. I’m just frustrated at how, despite all we know, we’re still no closer to learning who orchestrated the crash.’ He began tapping the eraser end of the pencil on his desktop. ‘Nor do we know why the plane went down, why Onofrio and his wife ended up washed ashore on such different parts of the coastline, or the overall motive behind it all.’

He pitched his pencil on to the desktop. ‘And if we don’t get to the bottom of this quickly, more innocents will die to keep someone’s terrible secret.’

‘Could there be multiple secrets at play?’

‘Great. Another complication to add to the already complicated.’

‘Is this a private meeting or can I butt in?’ asked Yianni from the open doorway.

‘Please do come in, Detective,’ said Maggie. ‘I could use someone to share the abuse coming my way.’

Andreas waved him in. ‘Don’t mind her. She’s harassing me with logic. What’s up? I just hope it’s good news.’

‘I think it is. We have a lead on the parachute. About a month ago, a dealer out by the airport sold the model of low-altitude parachute described in Manos’s report.’

‘Did the seller have the name of the buyer?’

Yianni gestured ‘no.’ ‘It was an all-cash deal. No paperwork.’

Andreas glanced at Maggie. ‘Or taxes paid on the transaction I’d venture to guess.’ He looked back at Yianni. ‘Any description of what he looked like?’

‘The buyer was she.’

Andreas leaned in. ‘Same question. Any description?’

‘She wore huge sunglasses, a scarf covering her hair and tied snugly around her chin, and a bulky long raincoat. He guesses she was in her mid-thirties or forties.’

‘That description could fit Lila dressed for a weekend out and about running errands,’ said Andreas.

‘Or Alexandra Boutsis,’ said Maggie.

‘What did she sound like?’

‘They didn’t talk much but she spoke Greek perfectly.’

‘Why did he remember her so clearly?’

‘I wondered the same thing. He said it was a warm, dry day, and from the way she was dressed, he assumed she either had a medical condition requiring her to avoid the sun or she didn’t want to be recognized. That piqued his curiosity to guess who she might be, but he never came up with an answer. When I showed him a photo of Alexandra Boutsis, he said it could be her, but nothing certain.’

‘What about video surveillance inside or outside the shop?’

‘No luck with that. They only have dummy cameras mounted inside the store, and none outside. Theft is not a problem, he said.’

Andreas put his elbows on the desktop and rested his head in his hands. ‘Folks, we need a break.’

‘Agreed, but how do we manage to get one?’ said Yianni.

‘I don’t know, but I think it’s time to take the gloves off with Mr Onofrio.’

‘And how do you expect that to have any effect on a catatonic crime boss?’

Andreas looked up at him. ‘Just watch me.’

FIFTEEN

As Yianni and Andreas approached Onofrio’s hospital room, Andreas peeled off into the men’s room, but Yianni kept going until he stopped in front of the uniformed cop sitting outside Onofrio’s room. ‘Officer Zouganelli?’

The officer stood up. ‘Yes.’

Pulling his ID out from around his neck, Yianni said, ‘I’m Detective Yianni Kouros. Some benefactor of yours must have decided you’re deserving of a meal break. I was ordered to relieve you for an hour. My guess is this duty is about as interesting as watching grass grow.’

‘You got that right.’

‘Any action or visitors?’

‘Nope, the only one who went inside since I got here was the nurse.’

‘And I assume the patient hasn’t said anything.’

‘Not so far as I know.’

‘I guess I should have brought something to read.’

Zouganelli pointed to a small table next to his chair. ‘Feel free to read whatever you’d like. This is the dullest assignment I’ve ever had. I’ve read virtually everything on that table from cover to cover. Even the pictures are now boring me.’

‘I can hardly wait.’

‘See you in an hour,’ said Zouganelli, heading down the hall toward the elevators.

As soon as he was out of sight, Andreas came out of the WC.

‘Everything go as planned?’

‘Knowing his name and betting on him being bored out of his mind worked. He took the bait. But he might call in when he thinks about it.’

‘I’ll work quickly, then. Knock twice, then twice again if I need to get out of the room.’

Yianni nodded and Andreas opened the door, stepped inside, and closed it behind him. He turned and stared at the figure propped up in the bed. He wore a simple hospital gown, his trunk and legs covered by a sheet, with IVs and monitors hooked up to his arms, hands, and chest. Plus, oxygen hooked into his nostrils. His expression hadn’t changed from when Andreas saw him last, but his eyes seemed softer, less intense.

Andreas walked to the foot of the bed and stood where their eyes could directly stare into each other’s.

‘Dimitris, it’s Andreas the cop. I decided this morning that it was time to speak with you directly, man to man. Is that all right? I wanted to let you know I was coming to see you, but since you cannot speak there was no way to check with you in advance. It also struck me as useless to ask your associates for permission, considering the great lengths they’d gone to keep you isolated from the likes of me. I don’t know why that is. Perhaps you do.’

Andreas paused. ‘If you’d like to say something, please do. If you’d like to speak but can’t, try blinking so at least I’ll know you’re hearing me.’ Andreas waited again. ‘The reason I’m here is simple: I want to know what happened on the plane that nearly killed you. You’re the only person still alive who was on that plane.’

He leaned in toward Onofrio. ‘Everyone on that plane was to die but one, and that lone survivor was not intended to be you. It was to be your wife. I think you know that, and that’s why you feel as you do at this moment. You cannot accept what you know to be the truth.’

Andreas exhaled. ‘Did you realize your wife had arranged to cut off oxygen to all on the plane but her? Did you see her go into the cockpit to set the autopilot to crash the jet in the sea? Did you see her parachute out of the rear of the plane in the same chute you found along the eastern shore of the Messenian Gulf?’

Andreas focused harder on Onofrio’s eyes. ‘Did you ever expect to survive? Did you ever wonder why your wife had done all this to you? Did you ever wonder who had helped her? Those questions must race thought your mind 24/7. How could they not? They’d haunt any man.’

Andreas sighed. ‘I want to help you get answers to all your questions. But we must work together to get them now. They will not wait until later. Later means more will die at the hands of those desperate to keep answers as buried as you were supposed to be. No one’s safe until those questions are answered. Not you, not your children. There is no time to waste. You were the victim of an assassination plot that failed. Those behind it remain at large, undoubtedly planning how to end the threat posed by your continued existence. It is time to root out those responsible or live to regret far more than what’s already happened to you.’

Andreas leaned over and squeezed Onofrio’s hand. ‘Do you hear me, do you hear me, do you hear me?’

Knock-knock, knock-knock.

Andreas dropped Onofrio’s hand and turned to the door. He could hear a commotion in the hall. He stepped briskly to the door and opened it. Yianni was engaged in a low-level argument with Officer Zouganelli.

‘Shh,’ Andreas told them. ‘You might wake the patient.’

‘That’s not funny, Chief Inspector.’

‘Ah, so you know who I am.’

‘Of course I do, I have a photograph of you and instructions not to let you anywhere near this hospital room.’

‘Then why did you?’

‘Because your detective lied to me. I didn’t think to check out his story until I was drinking my coffee. No one had ordered anyone to relieve me.’

‘Shame on you, Detective. I told you to tell him that I only wanted to ask the patient a few questions.’

‘I’m sorry, Chief. I’m sorry to you too, Officer.’

‘I have to report this,’ said Zouganelli.

Andreas shook his head. ‘I’m not sure that’s a great idea for you. After all, the worst that will happen to me is I’ll get yelled at for trying to talk to a catatonic patient. You on the other hand will have violated a direct order to keep me away from him. Whose career do you think will suffer more?’

Andreas saw the young cop’s right eye twitch a bit. ‘I’ll tell you what. Go inside the room to satisfy yourself that all is well with the patient and if you’re satisfied, we’ll go our separate ways and forget all about this incident.’

Zouganelli tilted his head. ‘I don’t know if I can do that.’

‘Come,’ said Yianni, ‘let’s check in on Onofrio together.’ He stepped through the doorway, followed five seconds later by Zouganelli.

A minute later Yianni came out of the room, took Andreas by the elbow and steered him down the hallway toward the elevators. ‘Let’s get out of here before he changes his mind.’

‘Why would he?’

‘I don’t know, but in your analysis of who would suffer most you left out what would happen to me – busted down to street cop would be the best I could hope for.’

‘At least you’d get to keep your pension,’ smiled Andreas.

‘Malaka.’

‘If it’s any consolation, were that to happen, I’d say there’s a good chance I’d be walking that beat with you.’

‘With all due respect, Chief, I doubt that.’

‘Well, maybe you’re right, but at the very least I’ll be booted out of this job.’

‘The Minister would never do that to you.’

Andreas shook his head. ‘It wouldn’t be his call. Every power broker in Greece afraid about their ties to Onofrio would galvanize around ridding the police force of me for getting into Onofrio’s business.’

‘But we aren’t doing that. We’re just trying to solve the plane crash.’

Andreas nodded. ‘But they don’t know that.’

‘So, what’s your take on his condition?’ said Yianni, as the elevator doors opened to reveal a single rider.

Onofrio’s doctor paused, glanced at Yianni, stepped off the elevator, and walked past them.

Andreas put his left hand up to his forehead, feigning to scratch it, hoping to conceal his face as the doctor passed. He didn’t dare look back when he stepped into the empty elevator and waited for the doors to close.

‘It’s OK, he’s gone,’ said Yianni, hitting the ground-floor button.

‘For an instant I thought he was going to answer your question on his patient’s condition. I would have liked that because I’ve no idea when or if he’s going to come around.’

‘When I saw those doors open, my entire career passed before my eyes. Thank God he didn’t recognize me.’

Andreas grinned. ‘No one ever recognizes the beat cop.’

‘Andreas, it’s Maggie on the phone.’

‘Thanks, dear. Are the kids sound asleep?’

‘They better be, it’s past nine o’clock.’

Andreas got up from the couch and went to pick up the phone in Lila’s office.

‘Hi, Maggie, is everything OK?’

‘You tell me. I just received a call from the night nurse taking care of Onofrio.’

‘Uh-oh, are they on to us about this afternoon?’

‘She didn’t say anything about that.’

‘Did you tell her I wouldn’t be sending her a message for Onofrio tonight?’

‘Yes, and she wasn’t calling about that either.’

‘Then what was she calling about?’

‘If you’d stop interrupting me, I’d tell you.’

Andreas exhaled but said nothing.

‘That’s better. She called to tell me Onofrio seems to be coming around. He’s moving his eyes and beginning to gurgle out sounds. Nothing comprehensible. But sounds.’

‘Can he write?’

‘No mention of him being able to move his body, so I suspect writing is not yet an option.’

‘Who’s with him?’

‘His doctor’s been called, but he left the hospital hours ago and she has no idea when he’ll be back.’

‘Did you ask her to keep us informed?’

‘By that I assume you mean did I tell her to feel free to disturb my beauty sleep at any time tonight should there be any news on his condition.’

‘Yes, except I don’t see you as needing beauty sleep, and besides, her calling you will provide you with the pleasure of waking me up to pass along whatever she might tell you.’

‘Oh, you silver-tongued devil, you.’

‘Did she have any idea what brought him around?’

‘No, and I did not mention your visit.’

‘Do you think that could have triggered it?’

‘I’m pretty sure your messages are at least a contributing factor. I don’t know about the visit. My real concern is whether he’ll come around in order to help you or hurt you.’

‘That’s a comforting thought.’

‘But not one you haven’t considered.’

‘True,’ sighed Andreas. ‘I hope he’s coming around to help, not because I’m worried about him coming after me, but because without his help, we’re going nowhere with this case.’

‘Get some sleep. I’ll call you if I hear anything.’

‘Goodnight, and thanks.’

‘Bye, love to Lila.’

Andreas hung up and looked out the window at the night sky hovering above the gilded glow of the illuminated Parthenon.

‘What’s on your mind, husband?’ wafted in from the living room.

He stood up, walked out of the office, and plopped himself down on a couch next to where Lila sat. ‘Onofrio seems to be coming around.’

‘That’s good, isn’t it?’

‘I’d like to think so.’

‘Pessimist.’

‘I’ve a question for you.’

‘Interrogative or romantic?’

‘Have you ever parachuted out of a plane?’

‘No. Not on your life would I jump out of a plane.’

‘What about your father?’

‘I believe he may have back in his wartime days as a pilot, but not that I can remember. And today he can barely walk, let alone jump out of a plane.’

‘That’s what I figured but had to ask. Do you know anyone connected with LV Lines who knows how to parachute?’

‘I’ve no idea. They all could or none could. I meant it when I said I know virtually nothing about that company.’

‘Well, my interrogation is complete.’ He smacked his hands on his thighs. ‘You might want me to sleep in the guest room since there’s a good chance Maggie will be calling me in the middle of the night with updates on Onofrio’s condition.’

‘No reason for you to do that. If you did, I’d be up all night waiting to hear the phone ring and then spend the rest of the night wondering what she had to say until I could ask you at breakfast.’ She shook her head. ‘It’s far better that we sleep together. That way I can sleep soundly between calls, knowing that if and when a call comes in, I’ll wake up with it and hear first-hand whatever Maggie has to report.’

‘Fair enough. And what do you suggest we do while waiting for that first call to come through?’

Lila leaned over, put her hand on his chest, and whispered in his ear, ‘I thought you’d never ask.’

The call came through at 05:30 in the morning. He’d been restlessly half-awake most of the night, expecting it to come sooner.

‘Maggie?’

‘Yes. I just heard from the nurse. She said nothing important had happened until now. He’s now struggling to speak in distinct two-word phrases.’

‘Huh?’ said Andreas, as Lila turned on her bedside light and leaned in to hear better.

‘He says things like, “want water,” “open window,” “need toilet.”’

‘Is his doctor there?’

‘Not yet.’

Andreas nodded slowly. ‘I think the fact Onofrio’s communicating at all is good news.’

‘That depends.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ he asked.

‘Well, what triggered the nurse’s call is a new phrase he’s now saying over and over.’

‘Get on with it, please. What is it?’

‘Get Kaldis.’

‘Get Kaldis?’ repeated Andreas.

‘Yes.’

‘What does that mean?’ blurted out Lila.

‘I don’t know,’ said Maggie.

‘To me it can mean one of two things,’ said Andreas. ‘Either he wants to see me right away or wants to do away with me right away. My guess – or rather hope – is it’s the former, but either way I’m getting to the hospital as soon as we hang up. Please find Yianni and tell him to meet me there ASAP, but if he beats me to it, not to go into Onofrio’s room until I get there.’

‘Will do. Bye.’

Andreas hung up and looked at Lila. ‘Don’t worry, the fact he’s calling out for me is a good sign.’

‘I pray you’re right.’

He kissed her on the cheek, ‘Me too.’

When Andreas arrived at the hospital, Yianni was waiting for him by the elevators on Onofrio’s floor.

‘Good news, Chief, Zouganelli’s not on duty now. Bad news is the private doctor just got here and is in his room.’

‘Let the games begin.’ Andreas turned and walked casually down the hallway toward Onofrio’s room.

At the door to the room a uniformed cop stopped him. ‘Who are you and where are you headed?’

Andreas showed him his credentials. ‘My presence has been requested by the patient.’

‘I’m sorry, sir, but you’re not permitted inside.’

‘Call a cop,’ said Andreas, pushing past the officer.

The cop reached out to take Andreas’s arm.

Yianni waggled a finger at the cop. ‘Not a good idea, son. You’re better off calling in for reinforcements, because the Chief is going inside, and you’re not going to stop him.’

The cop backed off and reached for his phone, while Andreas and Yianni went inside.

The doctor spun around from Onofrio’s bedside. ‘What are you doing here?’ he shouted at Andreas. ‘You’re forbidden to be here.’

‘Sorry, you’ve been overruled.’

‘By whom?’

Andreas pointed at the bed. ‘Your patient. He’s been calling out for me to come see him.’

‘You’re lying.’

‘And you’re obstructing a police investigation into the attempted assassination of your patient, and the likely deaths of five others, including your patient’s wife.’

‘I’ll have your job!’ he threatened.

‘If you continue to obstruct me from doing my duty, I’ll have you arrested.’

‘You wouldn’t dare.’

‘Detective Kouros, would you please show the doctor your handcuffs.’

Yianni snapped them off his belt and flicked them open in the direction of the doctor.

‘The next step is up to you, Doctor.’

The doctor spun around and marched out of the room. ‘I’ll be back.’ He slammed the door.

‘Can’t wait,’ murmured Andreas. He turned to Onofrio. ‘I hear you’re doing better, Dimitris?’

Onofrio said nothing.

Andreas walked back to the foot of the bed and stood where he had yesterday when speaking with Dimitris.

‘It’s Andreas Kaldis. That’s me. I understand you’ve asked me to come. So, here I am.’

Onofrio’s eyes studied Andreas’s face, but he said not a word.

‘Do you want to speak to me?’

Still nothing.

‘I’m only here because I thought you wanted to talk about the plane crash and all that followed. But if you don’t want my help, I’ll leave you alone.’

The door burst open and in came the doctor holding a mobile phone up. ‘I have your Minister on the phone and he wants to talk to you now.’

Andreas took the phone, put it on speaker and said, ‘Good morning, Minister. How can I help you?’

‘Andreas, are you crazy? You know you’re forbidden to bother Mr Onofrio. And on top of that you’ve threatened his doctor. Have you gone mad? Get out of there this instant!’

‘Sorry, but I’m here at the invitation of Mr Onofrio.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘He began to speak, and the first thing he said was, “Get Kaldis.” So here I am.’

‘That’s a lie,’ said the doctor. ‘Since I’ve been here, he’s said no such thing.’

‘Whoa, there, Doctor, don’t call me a liar. Why don’t you ask your patient what he wants?’

‘I’m a professional; I won’t play your quack psychiatry games.’

‘Well then, permit me to ask the question of your patient. Can you hear me, Minister?’

No answer.

‘I’ll take that as a “yes.”’ He stepped closer to Onofrio.

‘Dimitris, do you want me to stay or leave?’

Onofrio began to gurgle and struggled to say two words, the only intelligible one was ‘Leave.’

‘See, I told you he was lying! Order him out of here at once, Minister.’

‘Kaldis, I want you out of there now and in my office immediately,’ said the Minister.

A loud, ‘No!’ reverberated in the room.

‘How dare you speak to me that way,’ barked the Minister.

‘That wasn’t me, Minister, it was Mr Onofrio.’

Andreas held the phone up closer to Onofrio.

‘Doctor leave.’ Onofrio swallowed. ‘Kaldis stay.’

‘That’s outrageous,’ said the doctor. ‘He’s in no fit state to make such a decision.’

Andreas looked at Onofrio. ‘What do you say to that, sir? Your doctor calls you unfit to make decisions.’

Onofrio fixed his legendary glare on the doctor. ‘Doctor fired. Out now.’

‘Well, I think that settles it,’ Andreas said lightly. ‘I’d recommend you follow your patient’s instructions, Doc. I mean your former patient.’ Andreas paused long enough for the doctor to compose himself. ‘Minister, unless you object, I would like to meet with Mr Onofrio pursuant to his request.’

‘Yes, you may.’

Andreas shoved the doc’s phone back in his chest and pointed him to the door. He waited until he’d exited before turning back to Onofrio. ‘Thanks for straightening things out.’

‘Doctor asshole.’

‘No argument from me on that,’ said Andreas. ‘So, where would you like to begin?’

‘Ask questions.’

Andreas smiled at Yianni. ‘OK, let’s begin.’

SIXTEEN

‘I’ll try to ask questions that only need a one- or two-word answer, but if you feel up to saying more, please do so. And if you get tired, just tell me to stop. OK?’

‘OK.’

‘Who planned the trip?’

‘My wife.’

‘What was the destination?’

‘Brussels.’

‘Why Brussels?’

‘Politics.’

‘Yours or hers.’

‘Her campaign.’

‘Her campaign for …?’

‘European Parliament.’

‘She was running?’

‘Wanted to.’

Andreas’s plan was to get Onofrio into a relaxed rhythm of offering two-word answers to relatively innocuous questions in the hope that it would lead him to comfortably expand his answers.

‘Who was on the plane with you other than your wife?’

‘Pilots. Bodyguards.’

‘What happened to them?’

‘Don’t know.’

‘Where did you sit on the plane?’

‘Up front.’

‘And your wife?’

‘In back.’

‘Why wasn’t she sitting with you?’

‘Said headache.’

‘What was her mood?’

‘Nervous, strange.’

‘How so?’

‘Plug-in earphones.’

‘Why was that strange?’

‘Plug-ins unnecessary.’

‘Why?’

‘Music Bluetooth.’

‘What were the earphones connected to?’

‘Her armrest.’

‘What’s strange about that?’

‘Nothing there.’

‘What do you mean by nothing there?’

‘No music.’

Andreas struggled to suppress his frustration. He imagined Onofrio felt much the same way. This two-word answer routine would sap the energy from both men, but more significantly risk discouraging Onofrio.

‘If I understand you correctly, the plane’s armrests had no plug-in connection for music, yet her earbuds were plugged into her armrest.’

‘Yes.’

‘For what purpose?’

Onofrio struggled to move his hand to where his finger pointed at the simple tubular device running up from the oxygen source to a clasp at his neck. From there the tube looped behind his ears and crossed his face below his nose, delivering oxygen through two prongs inserted into his nostrils.

Andreas realized that it would be simple enough to modify the oxygen-delivery system to resemble wired earbuds, from a distance. Especially if the loop with the nasal oxygen tubes were kept under her chin until needed.

Andreas leaned in. ‘Are you saying the earplugs weren’t for music, but for connecting to an oxygen source?’

‘Yes.’

‘But that means someone had to know what seat she’d be in, and arranged to conceal her oxygen source there.’

Onofrio’s eyes began to twitch. ‘Yes. I know.’

Three words, thought Andreas. Let’s keep it going.

‘You do realize this means that your wife had to be in on the plan to crash the plane by cutting off oxygen to everyone but her.’

Onofrio drew in and let out several deep breaths. ‘That’s why I … want to talk … to you.’

Andreas nodded and patted Onofrio’s hand. ‘Are you up to telling me what happened, or would you prefer that I continue asking questions?’

‘I’ll try.’

‘Good, take all the time you need. We’re in no hurry.’

‘She insisted we … go to Brussels … I didn’t want to go … too dangerous.’

Andreas fought back an urge to find out what he meant by dangerous but feared disrupting Onofrio’s train of thought. Besides, Brussels has a reputation as a European drug distribution center, filled with rival gangs seeking to kill off one another.

‘But she insisted … and if you knew … my wife, she … was insistent on getting … her way.’

He shut his eyes. ‘When we got on the plane … she went straight to the seat in the rear … a place she knew I would never sit. Superstition. I let her be … It’s easier that way.’

He opened his eyes. ‘The plane took off … got to cruising altitude … That’s when I got sleepy.’

‘Did you notice if any of the others on board seemed sleepy?’

‘At one point I saw my two men dozing off … but when I looked back at Alexandra … her face was buried in a magazine … but she was awake.’

‘Face in a magazine … Could she have been concealing the oxygen device?’

‘I’ve asked that a thousand times … each time I come back with the same answer.’

Andreas did not ask for the answer. He waited for Onofrio to speak.

‘After all that I witnessed on that plane … and later … the only answer is yes … but I still have no answer for the why … I need that from you.’

‘I’m trying my best to get one for you.’

Onofrio shut his eyes again and spoke as if reliving his time on the plane. ‘I was so tired I could hardly move … but still awake. The bodyguards were now sound asleep … the pilots must have been too … But my wife was … perky … I watched her hurry up the aisle to the cockpit … a cylinder in her hand … and go inside … It could have been seconds or minutes before she came out … and went back to her seat … Time just dragged.’ Onofrio shook his big head and sighed. ‘I felt the plane begin to descend … I could see her in the rear of the plane … still wearing her earphones … She put something on over her body suit … I realized later it was a parachute … And she carried an orange gym bag … it must have had a life raft … She stood in the back as the plane descended … When it leveled off, the baggage door flew open … and she disappeared … I did not know what happened to her … but knew that the sudden whirlwind rush of fresh air meant I was about to die.’

Andreas saw tears welling up in Onofrio’s eyes.

‘I actually said a prayer … and made vows … which I shall never repeat.’ He drew in and let out a deep breath. ‘The plane kept flying lower and lower … ultimately hitting the water flat on its belly … They were the longest moments of my life.’

Onofrio coughed. ‘I don’t know whether or not I blacked out … but the next thing I remember was a rush of cold sea water enveloping me in my seat … On instinct more than anything else, I undid my seat belt and struggled to get my head above water to a place where I could find air … I found a spot back by the tail and tried to get air in my lungs. I remembered growing up in Piraeus … on Epiphany we’d compete to retrieve the Epiphany Cross thrown into the ice-cold sea by our priest.’

He’s almost back to speaking normally.

Onofrio opened his eyes. ‘This time, though, I was diving for my life. Somehow I made it to the open baggage door and out into the sea, fifteen meters or so beneath the surface. I broke through the surface. That was good. But I was alone in the sea. Bad. But then it was as if God were looking out for me. Floating next to me was a cushion from the plane.’

Andreas sat quietly, wondering how he would have felt after being betrayed so callously by his wife. It was an experience from which Andreas was certain he’d never recover.

A minute passed before Onofrio spoke again. ‘It was perhaps an hour, though possibly only twenty minutes when I heard the motor.’

‘What motor?’

‘I didn’t know until I saw the boat. The boat was a military-style Zodiac used for rescue missions. I thought my savior had arrived. I tried to wave, but almost lost my grip on the cushion. The boat was too far away to see me.’

He shut his eyes again. ‘That’s when I saw the inflated life raft towed behind the Zodiac. My savior was here for sure.’ He fixed his eyes on Andreas. ‘Strange, isn’t it, how our imaginations try to insulate us from reality.’ He sighed again.

‘Hundreds of meters away from me, the Zodiac stopped and the passenger on board the raft began tugging on the tow rope to bring it alongside the Zodiac. That’s when I saw her, in her body suit, jump from the raft on to the Zodiac, untie the tow line, and set the raft adrift. Seconds later, the Zodiac, its captain, and Alexandra were on their way north, leaving me and everyone else on the plane for dead. They never looked for survivors in the water.’

‘Did you recognize the captain of the Zodiac?’

‘No, I never got a good look at him … assuming it was a him.’

‘What did you do next?’

‘Said a few more prayers, and paddled toward the life raft, still with my cushion. Obviously, I made it to the raft. In my mind, I imagined my wife was the innocent victim of a plot to kill our children if she didn’t kill me first. You name it, and I played out every scenario I could think of that would offer an innocent reason for why she did this to me.’

‘You know that your boys are safe. They’re with your wife’s parents.’

Onofrio looked away from Andreas and fixed his eyes on the ceiling.

Andreas feared he may have lost him by mentioning the children. Neither man spoke for what seemed an eternity to Andreas.

Andreas broke the silence. ‘Why do you think they brought the life raft back to the scene of the plane crash?’

Onofrio looked at Andreas. ‘To save me was my first hopeful reaction, but when I made it on board and saw that its signal beacons and emergency lights had been destroyed, I realized rescue was not the reason for bringing it back. She must have used the raft to shelter herself until the Zodiac came to find her after her jump. But if they left it where they met up, as opposed to where the plane went down, it could raise suspicions.’

Andreas nodded. It made sense. ‘What happened next?’

‘I brought my cushion on to the raft, harvested the few water bottles I found drifting in the sea, and prayed to be found. Thank God it rained a couple of times to give me more water. But there was no food until I made it to land and was able find things to eat.’

‘You must have been exhausted when you washed up.’

‘At first I didn’t know where I was, and just started walking. Looking for Alexandra. Still hoping there was an explanation that would allow me to forgive her.’

‘Why did you walk north up the Gulf as opposed to south?’

‘I figured she’d gone north in the Zodiac, so heading that way seemed to offer the best odds of finding her.’

‘Any other reason you headed north?’

‘Not consciously.’ He closed his eyes. ‘But I do recall in the midst of one of my hallucinatory moments on the raft thinking that maybe if I liked golf she might not have done this to me.’

‘I’m sorry, Dimitris, but I don’t follow what you’re saying.’

He opened his eyes. ‘Alexandra loved to play golf, but I never did. One of her favorite places in Greece is Costa Navarino, with four golf courses alongside the Ionian coastline west of Kalamata. I thought perhaps she was heading there to play golf with whoever picked her up in the Zodiac.’

‘That’s on the coastline about a dozen or so kilometers north of where you and your wife were found?’

‘Yes.’ His eyes welled up again. ‘When I saw her lying there, my first thought was she had not betrayed me. She had died trying to save me.’ He swallowed. ‘But I know better. She not only planned to have me killed, she tried to do it herself.’ He fixed his eyes on Andreas. ‘You promised to help me. I want to know why she wanted me dead, and who were her conspirators.’

‘I intend to fulfill that promise.’ Andreas paused. ‘I hesitate to ask you this, but your answer might help me find answers to your questions for me.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Who might have wanted her dead?’

‘No idea.’

Andreas patted Onofrio’s hand. ‘You must be exhausted. Is there anything more you wish to say?’

‘No.’

‘OK, then. We’ll let you rest. Thank you for your help.’

Onofrio shut his eyes.

As Andreas headed for the door, trailed by Yianni, he heard Onofrio say, ‘Andreas, remember your promise, because I intend to hold you to it.’

Outside Onofrio’s room, Andreas drew in and let out a huge breath as they headed to the elevator. ‘I can’t imagine what it would be like to go through what he did.’

Yianni shrugged. ‘Considering what he’s put so many victims’ families through, I can’t say I feel sorry for him.’

‘I get that, but let’s start simply with this: Do you believe him?’

Yianni tilted his head. ‘I didn’t sense he was lying about anything. I mean, he could have chosen to talk simply to feed you some self-protecting line of bullshit. But everything he said lines up with what we’ve found.’

Andreas nodded. ‘Same. But I’m worried I might have resurrected the old killer inside him.’

‘Because he warned that he intends to hold you accountable?’

‘That, how he claimed to have “no idea” of possible enemies of his wife, and the timeless adage about how much better it is to let sleeping dogs lie …’

‘Well, if it’s any consolation, I think you did a masterful job, Chief.’

‘Thanks. As soon as you get back to the office, I want you to transcribe your notes of the interview while it’s fresh in your mind.’

‘Notes? You never said anything about taking notes.’

‘You didn’t take notes?’

Yianni glanced up and down the hall. ‘Careful or you’ll draw more attention to us than we already have.’

Andreas softened his tone. ‘I—I just can’t believe you didn’t take notes.’

‘Wanna know what I did do?’ Before his boss could answer, Yianni pulled a mini recorder out of his jacket pocket. ‘See, I’ve learned that a witness’s own words trump my shorthand any day.’

Andreas glared at him. ‘Malaka.’ Then lightly smacked him on the back of his head.

Back in the car, Yianni asked him what their next move would be.

‘I think you deserve a holiday.’

He raised his eyebrows, then nodded. ‘Agreed.’

‘To Costa Navarino.’

Yianni jerked his head back. ‘Do you really think Onofrio’s hallucination about his wife showing up there to play golf right after trying to kill him has any real-world significance to our investigation?’

Andreas shrugged. ‘All I know for certain is that Onofrio has carried that thought with him since the last moment he saw his wife alive. Be it a hallucination, premonition, or crazy concoction, we’ll never know until we look into it. And I’m not sure we’ll even know then.’

‘I take it that we is meant to be the royal “we,” as in me.’

‘As a matter of fact, no. It means you and Niko Reichardt.’

‘Why him?’

‘Because he’s a golf fanatic, and you’re not. My guess is he has contacts up there who will tell him things they’d never dream of telling a cop. I’ll ask if he’s available, and if so, I want the two of you there ASAP.’

‘What about transcribing Onofrio’s interview?’

‘Just give the recorder to Maggie. It will kill two birds with one stone.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘It’s simple: The moment I get back to the office, Maggie will be hounding me for every detail of our time with Onofrio. But thanks to your recording, she’ll get to hear it all first-hand while she types up the transcript.’ He smiled. ‘That frees you up to take Niko golfing and me to continue finding creative ways to maximize our department’s financially strapped resources.’

Yianni rolled his eyes. ‘As I said before, I believe a promotion is in order.’

‘Agreed,’ nodded Andreas, ‘but Maggie doesn’t want one.’

SEVENTEEN

Niko hadn’t expected a call from Yianni, much less one asking him to accompany him to Costa Navarino. He’d spent most of his morning at the LV Lines office, reading through piles of invoices and receipts, looking for he knew not what. It would have been a much easier task had the company maintained scanned copies of such things, but like so many taxpayers in Greece – as well as, until recently, the government itself – paper ruled the record rooms. Worse still, the company’s files were categorized in such a way as to make any audit of its records so time-consuming that a government auditor would simply toss out an estimate to end the examination on terms too good for the company to pass up. What generally hastened that moment was the presentation to the auditor of a freezer-sized box labeled MISCELLANEOUS filled with loose, unorganized documents. In this case it wasn’t a box, it was two filing cabinets.

But Niko wasn’t a tax auditor. His roots were in aviation accident investigation, where the tiniest bit of information, tucked away in a far distant part of the crash site, might hold the answer to what happened.

Searching through a mountain-size haystack of a mess for something not quite right was a challenge that never failed to fire him up. He was set to go at it for as long as it took to finish.

That was until Yianni offered him the chance to play a round of golf at the world-famous Costa Navarino golf resort. The government would cover the cost of a trip by helicopter, which would turn a four-hour drive into a seventy-five-minute flight.

It was an easy choice to make.

By noon they were up in the air: Yianni, Niko, Niko’s golf clubs, and the pilot.

‘Yianni, meet Pete. He was also Manos’s pilot.’

‘I know, we’re cousins on my mother’s side.’

‘He was a great guy,’ said Pete. ‘I still can’t believe what happened to him.’

‘He sure was,’ said Yianni. ‘But sadly I can believe what happened to him, which is why in my heart I also believe in vengeance.’

‘Amen to that,’ said Pete. ‘So, we’re off to Costa Navarino. Which course are you guys playing?’

‘I’m not the golfer, Niko is.’

‘I’m up for playing whatever’s available,’ said Niko.

‘That shouldn’t be a problem,’ said Pete. ‘The general manager of one of the resorts is a friend of my family.’

Turning to look at Yianni, Niko smiled. ‘I guess you didn’t need to bring me along to speak to the locals.’

Yianni laughed.

‘If I may ask, gentlemen, what’s the real purpose of this trip?’ asked Pete.

‘I wish I knew,’ said Yianni. ‘Keep this to yourselves, but we’ve spoken to Dimitris Onofrio directly, and he’s obsessed with the thought that his wife had a plan to parachute out of the plane, meet up with someone in a power boat, and head north to Costa Navarino to play golf.’

‘That’s why we’re taking this trip?’ asked Pete.

‘That’s a pretty wild hallucination, even for as fanatical a golfer as I am,’ said Niko.

‘We’re all agreed on that score, but crazy is as crazy does. And jumping out of a plane at low altitude as part of an elaborate plan to assassinate your criminal mastermind husband in a crash staged to look like an accident is a pretty crazy starting point.’

‘OK,’ said Niko, shrugging. ‘Let’s say it’s possible she planned on making it to Costa Navarino for whatever crazy reason. Who at the resort would know of her plan to be there?’

‘Reservations?’ said Pete.

‘If she used her own name, yes,’ said Niko. ‘But I understood she was supposed to be out of the country. It would be stupid for her to make reservations for days when she wasn’t supposed to be in Greece. A red flag that something isn’t kosher.’

‘OK,’ said Yianni ‘Let’s assume she didn’t make reservations. Then who might know if she had plans to be there?’

Niko cleared his throat. ‘Pete, can your manager friend possibly find out which course she liked to play most?

‘How’s that going to help?’ asked Pete.

‘Won’t know until I play it. Golfers are creatures of habit. Her favorite course might include playing with some of her favorite people.’

‘Good point,’ said Yianni. ‘We won’t know until we check things out. There’s always the chance that she said something to someone that supports her husband’s hallucination. After all, she hasn’t been perfect in her planning.’

‘What makes you say that?’ asked Niko.

‘We tracked down a business that sold a low-altitude parachute to a woman who might have been Onofrio’s wife.’

‘Do you recall the name of the business?’

‘Yes.’ Yianni told him the name.

‘My oh my, the golf gods have intervened again to favor us.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ said Yianni,

‘If I hadn’t agreed to go golfing, I might never have learned what I just did about that parachute-buying business. This morning, I was at LV Lines reading through a mass of invoices and receipts, hoping to find anything tied to the crash. Buried in the box was a receipt from the company you just named, acknowledging a cash purchase of 8,000 euros for something described only as safety equipment.’ He paused. ‘That’s about the price for a full-fledged, brand-new parachute setup.’

‘Did it say who the purchaser was?’

‘No, that’s what caught my attention. It was purchased a month ago.’

‘Allowing enough time for some practice jumps, I imagine,’ said Pete.

‘What I can’t get my head around,’ said Niko, ‘is why would the receipt for an all-cash purchase of an unspecified safety device, in a transaction where the buyer took great care to keep her identity and physical appearance concealed from the seller, end up as a potentially incriminating piece of evidence tucked away in LV Lines’ business records?’

‘Perhaps because someone wanted it discovered in the course of an official investigation of the company’s potential link to the death of five people,’ said Yianni.

‘Six,’ added Pete.

‘Yes, six,’ nodded Yianni. ‘Niko, is there any way to tell when that receipt was put where you found it?’

‘No, it could have been a month or hours ago. Unless of course whoever does the company’s bookkeeping had entered it into the company’s records before it made its way to the drawer where I found it.’

‘Well, that’s another item to look into once we get back to Athens. How much longer until we land at Costa Navarino?’

‘Not long,’ said Pete.

‘Is that “not long” in time or distance?’

‘Just sit back and enjoy the view, cuz. Decompress when you have the chance. You’ll be back in the thick of things soon enough.’

‘I’ll take that as a “we’ll get there when we get there” answer.’

‘Wow, you really are a detective.’

Navarino is the historic Italian name for the lovely, neo-classical town of Pylos, nestled along the Messenia shores of the Ionian Sea at the southern entrance to Navarino Cove. Perhaps Greece’s most important sea battle of all time, the Battle of Navarino, was fought on those waters. In October 1827, in the midst of Greece’s War for Independence, ships of the combined French, Russian, and English navies destroyed an Ottoman and Egyptian fleet twice their size. Their battle on behalf of Greece hastened the end of the war, and independence for Greece.

It’s a region lush with olive, fig, citrus, pine, and so many other shades and textures of green that it can overwhelm the senses. Especially when flying over rugged valleys and mountain passes covered in green, or above fields pixilated with any manner of agriculture products, not the least of which are the region’s famed Kalamata olives.

The Costa Navarino Golf Resort is built along the cove’s eastern shore and opened its first golf course and hotel in 2010. Today, it’s a 2,500-acre golf resort complex offering four five-star hotels, four multiple-award-winning eighteen-hole golf courses, and the title, ‘World’s Best Emerging Golf Destination;’ all set among tens of thousands of olives trees, flourishing vineyards, and more than a million additional, well-tended endemic trees and shrubs.

It is where the wealthy and powerful of Greece and beyond come to play.

As they approached the resort Yianni said, ‘That’s quite an impressive setup down there.’

‘Over a thousand luxury rooms,’ said Pete.

‘I can understand how so many are so proud of it,’ said Yianni, ‘but to be honest, to me it’s just another sort of place where the rich and connected come to spend a lot of money. Likely more in a day than I earn in a month.’

‘I’d say that sounds about right for the average guest,’ said Pete, ‘but for the free spender type your monthly paycheck would only cover their bar bill.’

Yianni shook his head. ‘That doesn’t sit well with me.’

‘I can understand, but let’s face reality. Tourism is Greece’s savior. It’s what brought us back into the game with the big boys. If you want to continue to grow and prosper in Greece, we better get used to it.’

‘Gentlemen, are you done with the golf course version of our nation’s great class struggle debate?’ said Niko. ‘The landing facility is coming up fast, surrounded by olive groves I hasten to add, and I’d like our pilot to concentrate on that.’

‘Anything else either of you have to say before we land?’ said Yianni.

‘Yes,’ said Pete. ‘It’s customary to tip your pilot.’

‘I meant anything realistic.’

By the time they made it to the pro shop, Niko had already chatted up several of his longtime golfing buddies and was introduced to the pro by a particularly gregarious one.

‘Sam, this is my longtime buddy and golf hustler extraordinaire, Niko. Don’t let his mild manner mislead you, he’s lethal on the links.’

Sam laughed. ‘Coming from you, Theodore, that’s a warning I’ll take seriously.’

Niko smiled. ‘He’s just trying to seem charming. I haven’t beaten him in a half-dozen years.’

‘When did you play with him last?’ asked Sam.

‘Six years ago.’

Everyone laughed.

‘Can you play today?’ asked Theodore.

‘Wish I could.’ He pointed to Yianni and Pete. ‘But today is more of a workday for us.’

‘Well, then, I’ll leave you three to your work. I’ve got a golf ball to chase.’ He patted Niko on the shoulder. ‘Don’t be a stranger. Anytime you want to play, just give me a call.’

After Theodore walked away, Yianni introduced himself to Sam. ‘I’m Athens-based Detective Yianni Kouros, and we’re looking into the tragic death of one of your regular players.’

Sam’s expression turned serious. ‘Who’s that?’

‘Alexandra Boutsis, married to Dimitris Onofrio.’

‘Oh, my. What a sweet person and terrible tragedy. And to think that she died so close to here. It’s almost prophetic.’

‘Prophetic? What do you mean?’

‘She used to say this was her favorite place on earth, and if she ever needed a backdrop for a life-changing event, this was where she’d want it to be.’

‘Death certainly is life-changing,’ noted Pete.

‘That’s not what she meant,’ said Sam.

‘What did she mean?’ said Yianni.

‘I’m not the one to answer that. I always took it as a compliment to the resort. The best person to answer that question is her caddy.’

‘She had her own caddy?’ said Niko.

‘He works for the resort, but she always asked for him.’

‘Do you know where we can reach him?’

‘Eddy’s in the clubhouse. If you plan on playing today, I can arrange for him to be your caddy.’

‘Works for me,’ said Niko.

‘I don’t play, but that sounds fine,’ said Yianni.

‘I play,’ said Pete. ‘Do you rent clubs?’

‘Don’t worry about that. You’re friends of Theodore, so I’ll comp you on the clubs.’

‘Thanks.’

Twenty minutes later, Niko and Pete teed off, and Yianni followed them, walking alongside Eddy.

‘I understand you were Mrs Onofrio’s favorite caddy.’

‘Yes, she liked to call me that. She also didn’t like to be called Mrs Onofrio. Alexandra or Ms Boutsis was what she preferred.’

‘Was she always like that about her name?’

‘I can’t say, I knew her only for five years, but for the first few years I can’t recall her objecting to being called by her husband’s surname.’

‘Sam told us she used to say this was her favorite place on earth, and if she ever needed a backdrop for a life-changing event, this was where she’d want it to be.’

‘Oh yes, she’d often say that to me, especially at certain locations on the course.’

‘What locations?’

‘Where she could stand on a tee overlooking a long, broad expanse of manicured fairway, running off toward a distant fluttering flag on a pristine green, all set off against the backdrop of a dark blue sea meeting a bright blue sky.’

‘That sounds like a worthy background for some serious contemplation.’

‘She’d always stop and linger for a few minutes at those places. It used to aggravate players behind her who didn’t like being held up in their game. But no one ever said anything to her.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because, as you said, she was Dimitris Onofrio’s wife.’

Yianni nodded. ‘Understood. Did her husband ever golf with her?’

‘I never saw him on the course. In fact, I never saw him here at all.’

‘Did she play with anyone else?’

‘Oh, yes. She was very sociable, always had people around her.’

‘Did she play with anyone in particular, more so than with anyone else?’

‘In general, no. She’d play with whoever was available. But I did notice that recently she’d been playing a lot with another member of the club.’

‘Do you know the member’s name?’

‘Not off-hand, but I think I heard her describe him as “my husband’s doctor.”’

Yianni stopped for an instant, ‘Can you get me his name?’

‘Sure, once we’re back in the clubhouse.’

‘Did she ever mention what she meant by a “life-changing event?”’

‘Not directly, but she often said she dreamed that whenever the time came to announce the big event, she’d do it after strolling up from the sea along one of her favorite fairways in a grand entrance surrounded by hordes of media shouting questions.’

‘Was she ever more specific about what this event might be or when it might occur?’

‘No, she would always deflect my questions with a joke. Though, I must say that the last time I saw her, she was in a very serious mood. I tried to lighten things up by asking my when question, expecting her to toss a joke back at me. This time that didn’t happen. In fact, she became grim and cut me off with, “Soon, very soon.”’

‘What did you make of her reaction?’

Eddy rocked his head from side-to-side. ‘Hard to say.’

‘Well, you knew her better than most, so what’s your opinion?’

Eddy drew in and let out a deep breath. ‘I sensed something had gone very badly with her big event plans. For as long as I’d caddied for her, whenever the subject of her event came up, she was all smiles. Never anything close to a frown. But not this time.’

Did you say anything to her?’

‘No, it wasn’t my place.’

‘When did this conversation occur?’

‘I’m guessing the week before her plane crashed. The pro shop should have the precise date.’

Eddy stopped to hand Niko the club for his next shot. ‘I miss her. She was always nice to me. I hope what I told you was helpful.’

Yianni nodded. ‘Very much so.’

Yianni noticed a tear rolling down one of Eddy’s cheeks. He didn’t know what to say to the man. He obviously felt he’d lost a friend and was deserving of comfort, whether or not the departed soul was worthy of a blessing.

Yianni patted him on his shoulder, and said, ‘Sorry for your loss.’

EIGHTEEN

After three hours on the golf course, Pete said it was time to leave for Athens if they wanted to be back before dark. Niko suggested they stop for a quick bite to eat on the clubhouse terrace overlooking the golf course and Navarino Cove. Yianni took the opportunity to brief Niko and Pete on what he’d learned from Eddy.

‘Sure sounds like she knew the “big event” in her life was about to happen,’ said Niko.

‘Or not happen if her caddy read her mood correctly,’ said Pete.

Yianni shook his head. ‘Isn’t it weird for Boutsis, a longtime diplomat, to be talking so openly about matters potentially related to the assassination of her husband? Let alone to be sharing such sensitive details with her caddy?’

‘Weird, yes, but unexpected no,’ said Niko. ‘You would be amazed at the bonds built up between players and their caddies. Some players are as open to discussing the most intimate details of their personal lives with their caddies as men are said to be with their barbers, and women with their hairdressers. Besides, from what Eddy told you, she never revealed to him what that big event might be. So, she wasn’t as loose-lipped as her bantering with her caddy might suggest. Which, to me at least, adds credence to his observation that something had gone very badly with her plans.’

‘I still don’t get it. It just seems too farfetched to me.’

‘If I might add in my two cents,’ said Pete, ‘I think that’s because you’re missing the golfer’s appreciation of the Zen state one can achieve on a golf course. Sometimes it feels like an open-air church where confessions would find a receptive home.’

‘If that’s true,’ said Yianni, ‘I’m going to start interrogating suspects in the middle of a golf course.’

Niko burst out laughing.

Pete smiled. ‘On that note, cousin, I think it’s time to head back to Athens.’

Yianni stood up. ‘That’s fine with me, just as long as I don’t have to walk anymore. You guys may have played eighteen holes, but I had to walk them. In police issue shoes.’

Once up in the air, Pete swept out above the sea before heading northeast toward Athens.

‘The view truly does take your breath away,’ said Niko.

‘What’s that?’ asked Yianni.

‘What’s what?’ asked Pete.

‘That beach in the shape of an omega just north of us.’

‘Oh, you mean Voidokilia Beach. It’s a well-known beach and bird sanctuary.’

‘There’s something about it that’s weirdly familiar,’ said Yianni.

All three men looked down at the beach.

‘I think I know what that might be,’ said Niko. ‘It’s similar to the place where they found Onofrio lying next to his wife.’

‘My God, you’re right,’ said Pete. ‘Papa Limni, on the coast down toward Methoni.’

‘Folks, is it just me,’ said Yianni, ‘or is there something spooky going on here? We’ve got a wife planning on making some self-described life-changing speech linked to her murder of her husband, at a place close by a well-known omega-shaped beach, but instead she turns up dead on a similarly shaped beach less than ten kilometers from where she planned on delivering her speech.’

‘Nah, there’s nothing weird about that at all,’ smiled Niko. ‘It’s just another variation on classic Greek Tragedy.’

Yianni waved his hands in the air. ‘Enough already. I just want to get back to Athens so I can drop this mess in the lap of the one who sent me here.’

Niko laughed. ‘That doesn’t strike me as showing much appreciation to your boss for so generously allowing you to enjoy an afternoon of golf with your chums.’

‘I agree. Come on, cuz, I defy you to think of a single thing that could have been more fun,’ chuckled Pete.

Yianni glared straight ahead. ‘Root canal.’

Yianni had spent the balance of the return flight bringing Andreas up to speed by phone.

The only word Andreas said once Yianni had finished was ‘bizarre.’

‘Which part of the story do you consider bizarre, Chief? Or perhaps a better question is, which part don’t you see as bizarre?’

‘I’ve got a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach that we’ve got something terribly wrong here.’

‘You think?’

‘What are you doing tonight?’

‘No plans, yet.’

‘Can you make it to my place? I promised Lila I’d be home tonight, but not that I wouldn’t work at home.’

‘Are you trying to make me an accessory to a domestic breach of agreement?’

‘No, she’s got a meeting anyway, and the nanny has the night off. Just come over as soon as you can. We’ve got to get a handle on this before things get any more out of control. Call me when you land, and I’ll set up a call with Tassos and Maggie for about an hour later. How does that sound?’

‘Depending on traffic, it works for me if it works for you.’

‘See you then.’ Andreas put down his phone and rubbed at his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. He’d listened to most of Yianni’s report while sitting in Athens traffic on his way home. Now he was sitting in front of his apartment building, wondering what in the world was going on. There were so many simpler and more assured ways to kill a spouse than by staging a plane crash taking the lives of innocents as well as the target. It took a ruthless killer’s soul to do what Boutsis had done to her fellow passengers on the jet.

He sighed and mentally added: Plus, an accomplice ruthless enough to arrange for the murder of Manos long after Boutsis was dead and the assassination of Onofrio had failed.

But that was not the image of Alexandra Boutsis held by her golfing friends or caddy. It’s as if two different people inhabited the same body. So, which was the true Alexandra? Or were they both real? Or neither? Terrific. That’s all he needed. A certifiable Jekyll and Hyde figure crashing a plane and killing employees and passengers of Lila’s family business.

He could see the headlines now.

When Yianni knocked on the apartment door, it was opened by two pajama-clad children jumping up and down shouting, ‘Uncle Yianni, Uncle Yianni.’

‘Whoa, what do I have here?’ said Yianni, taking Tassaki in one arm and Sofia in the other. ‘Am I a lucky uncle or what?’ He kissed each child on the cheek and nodded to their father standing in the background. ‘Look who I found loitering around your front door.’

Andreas smiled. ‘They heard me mention to their mother before she left that you were on your way over. Once they heard that, they refused to go to bed unless they got to see you. We reached a deal. If they showered, brushed their teeth, and were all ready for bed, Uncle Yianni would read them a fairy tale.’

‘Sounds like a sweet deal to me,’ said Yianni.

‘To me too,’ said Tassaki.

‘And me,’ chirped Sofia.

‘I’ll leave it to the three of you to work out the details on what and where you’ll read.’

‘Read in my room,’ said Sofia.

‘No, my room,’ said Tassaki.

‘That’s not fair. I said it first,’ pouted Sofia.

Andreas put up his hands in surrender. ‘As I said, Yianni, I leave that to you and your fans to work out.’

‘No problem. I’ll read one story in one room and a second in the other. I’ll start in Sofia’s because she asked first, and end in Tassaki’s. OK, guys?’

Both quickly nodded yes.

‘Nicely done, Detective. See you when you’re done. I’ll be in the living room.’

Andreas turned to head out of the foyer but paused and looked back at Yianni. ‘Has anyone ever told you that you’re a natural parent?’

‘As a matter of fact, yes. Most of my family and some girlfriends, but more often than not friends in desperate need of a babysitter.’

Andreas nodded and resumed his walk toward the living room. ‘I’ll keep that in mind.’

It was close to dark when Yianni and Andreas hooked up with Maggie and Tassos on a Zoom call. The lit-up Acropolis sky offered a dream-like backdrop to what Andreas described as tonight’s brainstorming effort to confront and counter the surreal unraveling of their investigation.

With that, he turned the floor over to Yianni, who described in detail what he, Niko, and Pete had learned at Costa Navarino. Twenty minutes later, he asked, ‘Any questions?’

‘I’ve got a headache,’ said Tassos.

‘Be serious,’ said Maggie.

‘We’ve all got headaches over this case,’ said Andreas. ‘We’ve got bad guys all over the place. And good guys dead.’

‘Or in business with bad guys.’ Maggie shook her head. ‘Sorry to say that, Chief, but with all due respect for Lila and your family, it’s a possible scenario we can’t ignore.’

‘I know,’ said Andreas. ‘And we’ve got a plane that went down in a way that required knowledge of its pressurization, oxygen, and autopilot systems.’

‘Which points a finger at someone with LV Lines as a potential accomplice,’ said Tassos.

‘We found no criminal or disciplinary reports on file for any employee of the company,’ noted Maggie.

Yianni nodded. ‘And Niko said that Christos seemed to take great care that the jets are properly maintained, though his record-keeping on income and expenses is a bit iffy.’

‘The Greek way,’ said Maggie.

‘I think we’re looking at this the wrong way,’ said Yianni. ‘Does anyone believe Onofrio was not the target of the crash?’

All answered, ‘No.’

‘Does anyone believe Onofrio’s wife did not sabotage the plane?’

Again, all nos.

‘Does anyone doubt she had at least one accomplice rescue her from the sea after she bailed out?’

More nos.

‘Great, unanimity so far. Here’s where we get into the speculative. Does anyone doubt she had some grand plan in mind focused upon making a highly publicized appearance at Costa Navarino at some point after the plane crash? For what it’s worth I don’t doubt that she did. And based upon Tassos’s conversation with his source, the likely purpose of her appearance was to declare her political intentions.

‘Assuming I’m right about her plan, something went wrong that caused her death. Either she was betrayed and murdered or died in an accident. The only way we may ever get an answer to that is if we find the accomplice who rescued her at sea.’

‘Isn’t he the one most likely to have killed her?’ said Tassos.

‘But why wait? If he intended on killing her, why not do it at the crash site where her death would not draw suspicion. It makes no sense to wait to kill her if she was supposed to die as part of the plan.’

‘OK,’ said Andreas, ‘keep talking.’

‘What was her motive for all of this elaborate planning and who killed Manos are the two questions we need to answer. Alexandra Boutsis couldn’t have killed Manos or ordered his death, because Manos had nothing to do with any of this until after she turned up dead.’

‘And maybe the accomplice who rescued her, killed her and Manos?’ said Maggie.

‘Perhaps,’ said Andreas, ‘but I sense there may be another player involved. Possibly someone tied to Onofrio. Manos’s death shares none of the neatly planned and executed steps that brought down the plane. His death was a butcher job.’

Yianni sighed. ‘I think we need to go after the most likely accomplice and see what we can shake loose.’

‘And who would that be?’ asked Tassos.

‘The most recent character in the play, Alexandra’s new favorite golf partner, and her husband’s doctor: Seraphim.’

‘I thought you might say that,’ said Andreas. ‘He certainly tries doing whatever he possibly can to keep anyone but him from having any communication with his patient.’

‘A bit too protective?’ said Maggie.

‘Hm. Are we imagining a romance between Dr Seraphim and Onofrio’s wife?’ Andreas asked the group.

‘It wouldn’t be the first time lovers try to do away with the husband in a manner made to look like an accident.’

‘Or wife,’ added Yianni. ‘So, what do we do, Chief?’

‘Seraphim is the only potential subject we haven’t spoken to yet in any detail. I think the time has come to do something about that.’

‘When?’ asked Yianni.

‘First thing tomorrow morning. And I want it done in GADA, not the hospital or his office. I won’t put up with his “playing God” routine. I want him feeling what it’s like to be a prime suspect in an elaborate murder plot and see how that plays out for him.’

‘Hopefully in a way that brings closure to us all,’ said Maggie.

‘On that grand thought, goodnight, folks.’

NINETEEN

Yianni and a uniformed officer showed up at Doctor Seraphim’s hospital office at 08:00, sharp. Yianni had called ahead and was told the doctor would be on hospital rounds until then.

‘I’m Detective Yianni Kouros, and we’re here to see Dr Seraphim.’

‘I’m sorry, but Dr Seraphim’s not available.’

‘You and I spoke,’ he reminded the assistant. ‘I called earlier to say I’d be here at eight.’

‘He told me to tell you his schedule is not controlled by you or your boss.’

Yianni shook his head and laughed. ‘The good doctor is making this far harder on himself than he needs to.’

‘I beg your pardon.’ She raised her eyebrows in offense. ‘If you wish to book an appointment with him, I can do it for you.’

Yianni leaned forward. ‘Why don’t you call him and ask whether this is a convenient time for him to see me. Tell him it’s in connection with a matter I’m certain he’s familiar with. If he claims not to know what I’m talking about, tell him I’m fully prepared to pass along to you the details we wish to discuss with him. But either way he’s going to have to come along with us for questioning.’

The assistant’s face twitched, but she made the call. Two minutes later, Seraphim burst into his office’s reception area.

‘How dare you speak about me that way in front of my assistant. I’ve already placed a call to your Minister. I won’t tolerate this sort of treatment!’

‘Do you have a coat? Don’t worry, you won’t need your car keys. We’ll drive and provide you with a ride back to your office, if necessary.’

‘If necessary? Is that a threat?’

‘No, a courtesy.’

‘I’m not going anywhere. Period.’

Yianni looked at the uniformed officer he’d brought along. ‘Would you please do the honors.’ The officer removed handcuffs from his utility belt and motioned for Seraphim to turn around.

Seraphim blanched. ‘Are you insane? I’ll sue you and your department for all you’re worth. I know why you’re doing this. It’s because your boss is angry that I’ve kept him from pestering my patient.’

Yianni shook his head. ‘No, as a matter of fact it has to do with the murder of six people related to the plane crash that nearly took the life of your patient. Would you like me to say more now here? Or are you willing to come with us quietly without being handcuffed?’

‘How long will this take?’ The edginess had passed, replaced by compliance.

Yianni shrugged. ‘That depends on what you have to say.’

Seraphim looked at his assistant. ‘Reschedule all of my appointments for the rest of the day. It may take that long to figure out what these people have in mind.’

The assistant nodded but did not look him in the eye.

As they left the office, Yianni smiled to the assistant. ‘Thanks for your help and have a nice day.’

Once back at GADA, they showed Seraphim into a dull beige interview room designed for recording movement and words. Opinions on what occurred within such rooms were generally left to the interrogators and those who watched from outside.

Today’s participants sat on serviceable chairs on opposite sides of a well-worn rectangular wooden table. Andreas and Yianni on one side, Seraphim on the other. For the time being, Seraphim had waived his right to counsel until he knew what this was all about.

Andreas thanked Seraphim for voluntarily speaking with them. ‘I understand you are a longtime friend of Alexandra Boutsis Onofrio?’

‘Were. Not are. She’s dead.’

‘Yes, she is dead. So, how long were you a friend of hers?’

‘I don’t know, I’d say from the time she married her husband?’

‘Were you his doctor when you met her?’

‘Yes.’

‘Did you become her doctor after you met her?’

‘Yes.’

‘Did there come a time when you developed more than a friendship or doctor-patient relationship with her?’

Seraphim bristled. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Nothing more than what I said. What do you think I meant?’

‘We were never lovers, if that’s what you were getting at.’

‘Let me put it to you this way, was there anyone in the world she trusted more than you?’

‘I couldn’t say.’

‘Would it be fair to say you knew of no one in her life she trusted more than you?’

He nodded. ‘I’d say that’s fair.’

‘Was there anyone in your life that you trusted more than Alexandra?’

He brushed aside a tear. ‘No, no one.’

‘Did the two of you spend a lot of time together?’

‘What do you mean by a lot?’

‘How often did you play golf together?’

He shrugged. ‘We aimed for twice a week.’

Yianni asked, ‘So, four hours together each time you played?’

‘At least. Three and a half to four hours would be our time on the course. Sometimes we’d get something to eat after.’

‘Did you see her at any other times during an average week?’

‘Sometimes, but not regularly. We did speak, though, every day.’

‘How many times?’

‘Hard to say. A couple of times a day?’

‘Are you married?’ asked Yianni.

Seraphim laughed. ‘With my schedule, no wife would put up with me.’

‘Was her husband jealous of you?’ asked Yianni.

He laughed again. ‘I’ve always considered the role Dimitris Onofrio held me to playing in his marital life as akin to how ancient emperors viewed their eunuchs. Gentlemen, I’m gay! Now that you see this was not some love triangle gone awry, where Alexandra and I plotted to free her from the clutches of her husband, can I leave?’

‘Thank you for your candor, Doctor,’ said Andreas, ‘but now that we fully understand the scope of your relationship with Mrs Onofrio, we do have a few more questions.’

‘Please don’t call her that. Either Alexandra or simply Boutsis. But never Onofrio.’

Andreas glanced at Yianni. ‘Is there a reason for that, Doctor?’

‘Come on, gentlemen, don’t play naive. It doesn’t suit you. We all know her husband’s reputation.’

‘But she married him, knowing who and what he was,’ said Andreas.

‘And she had children with him bearing his name,’ added Yianni. ‘If you ask me, her complaining to the person she trusts most in the world about how difficult it is to be known by her husband’s last name while enjoying the privileges that come with that name hardly improves her image in my mind.’

‘Why would she care what you thought?’

Andreas laughed. ‘Well, whose approval did she care about? Obviously, someone’s.’

‘You don’t understand her. No one did.’

‘No one but you?’

‘As a matter of fact, yes, you’re right.’

Andreas leaned back in his chair. ‘I’d be very interested to hear your thoughts on Alexandra.’

‘I bet you would.’

‘Well, can you blame me. Here we have a woman who freely married one of the most ruthless criminals our nation has ever known, who then attempts to mastermind his assassination in a plot that not only fails but resulted in the deaths of four innocents plus herself.’

‘Innocents? Ha, they’re just as guilty as their boss.’

‘Their boss?’

‘Onofrio.’

‘Are you saying the bodyguards and pilots all worked for Onofrio?’

‘Let me put it this way: He never went anywhere without his bodyguards, and the two pilots were the only pilots employed by the company whose planes he chartered that ever flew him or his packages.’

‘What packages?’

‘The kind he’d rarely dare risk being caught with, but also would never allow to fly without those pilots on board.’

Andreas waited quietly. Seraphim had entered a confessional moment, seeking to justify the life and death of his dear friend. He’d let the doctor speak at his own pace.

‘Drugs. Drugs are always involved, aren’t they?’

Andreas nodded.

‘It was his pilots who were responsible for transporting the drugs. They received a percentage of every drug deal in exchange for assuming full blame should authorities somehow discover and prosecute their smuggling operation.

‘But beyond the drugs there were the high-end trafficked women, the political dissidents being dragooned home for punishment or execution, the terrorists, and any number of criminals seeking to escape arrest or prosecution. If you had the money, this was the plane and package delivery service of choice for you … all backed up by Onofrio’s safe passage guarantee to the destination of your choice for anyone willing to meet his price. He had the contacts to fix anything, anywhere. No one would dare knowingly touch a plane or cargo under his protection.’

Andreas hoped his face didn’t reveal the anxiety churning in his gut at the potential consequences to his family of this de facto partnership between Onofrio and LV Lines.

‘But why would she think it her responsibility to intervene?’ asked Yianni.

‘Because as she saw it, there was no one else who could or would. Police, judges, prosecutors, journalists were all far too easy for him to buy off. And those who wouldn’t cooperate, died. In her mind, knowing what she did made it a mortal sin to allow him to go on living.’

‘Why are you telling us all of this?’ asked Andreas.

‘Because she planned on telling it all to the world. Her plan was to spend two nights at sea, and on the third day, after the media had gone wild over the crash and presumed death of her and her husband, to appear at a hastily convened press conference on the shores of Costa Navarino. There she’d announce how she survived the crash, and all that she’d done to rid the world of her husband and four of his ruthless henchmen. God willing, she would dedicate her fortune and the rest of her life toward bettering the lives of all those poor souls whose lives had been wrecked by her husband and his colleagues in crime.’

‘I thought she was planning to run for the European Parliament?’ said Yianni.

Seraphim smiled. ‘That was her way of enticing her husband to fly with her to Brussels. She knew he’d only join her if there were an opportunity to enhance his image and criminal empire. He loved the idea of his wife being a member of the EP. It would only expand his power and influence.’

Andreas paused. ‘That’s all very interesting, but if your goal was to vindicate your friend’s name and spare the world further evil acts by her husband, can you explain to me why you so aggressively opposed my efforts to communicate with Onofrio?’

‘You still don’t get it, do you?’

‘I’ll take that as a comment, not a reproach.’

Seraphim exhaled in frustration. ‘Chief Inspector, the man was catatonic. He was incapable of doing any more harm to anyone. It was as close to him being in prison as he’d ever been or ever would be. And you were trying to break him out of that prison!’

‘I didn’t see it that way.’

‘I’m sure you didn’t. But now perhaps you do.’ He paused to take a deep breath. ‘Onofrio is now back in communication with his real-world evil empire, and there is no one alive who’ll dare even consider convincing him to hold his demons in check. Now that he knows his wife betrayed him, he will trust no one, and the bloody deaths of your four so-called innocents will be but drops in a very bloody bucket to come.’

Yianni spoke up. ‘Actually, another person was murdered in connection with this. A young man named Manos who was investigating the plane crash.’

‘I don’t know anything about him or what happened to him.’

‘Who would know?’

‘Her accomplice.’

‘Isn’t that you?’ said Andreas.

‘Me? Hell, no. Yes, I knew how she’d grown to detest her husband and wanted to leave him, but aside from saying she’d be better off with him dead – something I’ve heard many times from unhappily married patients – she never discussed in advance with me any of her plans to do away with him.’

‘Doctor,’ said a head-shaking Yianni, ‘there had to be somebody who taught her what she needed to know about the plane’s systems and parachuting.’

‘I’m certain you’re right, but I’m also sure there are many places where she could have learned about such things. For example, what about the company that owned the plane and provided the pilots? Surely, they could have provided her with that sort of assistance.’

‘We’re looking into that,’ said Andreas. ‘But frankly, it’s hard for me to imagine that you being as close a friend as you were to Alexandra that she didn’t tell you more about her plans, or that you didn’t do more than just listen as a friendly ear.’

‘I never said she didn’t tell me. All I said was she never told me of her plans in advance.’

‘When did she tell you?’

‘The day before the crash she called me to say she needed a very big, no-questions-asked favor, one that could mean the difference between her life and death. Someone she knew had promised to meet her the next morning at ten in a power boat at specific coordinates west of the Peloponnese. Her instincts told her not to trust him, for she feared he’d abandon her to die at sea. She asked me to be at those coordinates in my Zodiac by nine and wait for her no matter how long it took for us to find each other. She also said to bring along an inflatable emergency life raft and lots of water.’

‘And you simply did what she asked without asking a single question about what had put her life in potential danger?’

‘Of course! Wouldn’t you? If your best friend begged it of you? I had no idea what was going on. All I knew was she was pleading for help.’

‘What specifically did you do?’ frowned Yianni.

‘I found her in a life raft floating near where she said I would. She told me to tow her and the raft to different coordinates. Once there, she transferred from her raft to my boat, and we let her raft float away.’

Yianni exhaled. ‘Then what did you do?’

‘She gave me new coordinates, north of where we were, and I took her there. Once there, she inflated the raft I’d brought for her. We transferred water and some food I had on board on to the raft and she told me to meet her at Costa Navarino in three days.’ Seraphim swallowed. ‘That’s the last I ever saw of her or spoke to her.’ And then he burst into tears.

‘Folks, let’s take a break.’

‘How are you doing, Doctor?’ asked Andreas.

‘The coffee helped. Thank you.’

‘You’re welcome. Are you prepared to continue?’

‘Yes.’

‘Let’s go back to when you met Alexandra at the initial coordinates she’d given you. When you reached that place, was she there waiting for you?’

‘No, there was no one there, so I waited.’

‘When did you first see her?’

‘More like first heard her.’

‘She spoke to you?’

‘No, I heard a low-flying plane overhead.’

‘Did you recognize the plane?’

‘No … it was pretty surreal.’

‘Tell me about it,’ said Yianni under his breath.

‘The next thing I knew, someone jumped out of the plane and deployed a parachute. Then there was a parachutist, a parachute, and something like a backpack dangling from the parachutist. As bizarre as it seemed I knew it had to be Alexandra.

‘By the time I reached her, the backpack I’d seen dangling from her had inflated into a life raft, she’d shed her parachute, but still wore her life jacket, and made her way on to the raft.’

‘What did she say to you?’

‘She was all business. She had me tow the raft to new coordinates. That’s where we left it before taking off for her third set of coordinates. At that third location, she inflated the life raft she’d ask me to bring for her, and I helped her get herself and her supplies on to the raft.’

‘If you saw her parachute out of the plane, you must have seen or heard the crash.’

‘No, I didn’t see it crash. I was too busy trying to get her raft secured for a tow from my boat.’

‘What about the noise of the crash?’

‘I heard nothing, but I’ve got twin heavy-duty engines on my boat and they drown out a lot of noise.’

‘But you did reach the crash site.’

‘I believe so, but there was very little to tell that it was a crash site. Some water bottles and a cushion or two. It really was weird, and when Alexandra said, “Let’s get out of here,” I didn’t protest.’

‘Did you search for survivors?’ asked Yianni.

‘We saw none.’

‘But did you search?’

‘As I said, Detective, we saw none.’

‘Did you mean we saw none, or that you saw none?’ asked Andreas.

‘I stand corrected. I saw none.’

‘How long did it take for you to get from the crash site to where you parted ways with your friend?’

‘About an hour.’

‘And what did you talk about during that hour alone at sea, in the follow-up to what you described as a “surreal” experience?’

Seraphim laughed to himself. ‘I suspect this is where I should be saying, “I don’t recall.”’

Andreas said not a word.

‘But I do recall. Every word, every moment of that hour. She opened up to me about everything she had done to rid herself and the world of her husband. And every word she planned to say to expose him for the horror that he was.’

‘Could you please tell us what she said?’

‘Now that she’s gone, I see no reason why not.’

And so he did.

He described Alexandra’s plan to render everyone on board unconscious by depriving them of oxygen while she relied upon a secret oxygen supply to stay awake. Once she was sure that her husband and his men were out cold, she made her way up to the cockpit, her personal oxygen supply in hand, recalibrated the autopilot for a long smooth descent into the sea, and returned to the rear of the plane to prepare for her leap out through the rear baggage door.

‘Did she ever name her accomplice?’

‘No.’

‘Male or female?’

‘Male.’

‘How long had she known this man?’

‘She never said, but I sensed whoever he was, he possessed a Svengali-like control over her. At one moment she was praising him for all the clear thinking he’d brought to her mind about her life with her husband, and the next moment she’d be condemning him as being just as ruthless if not more so than her husband. She raged on about how he’d subtly manipulated her for years, all toward achieving precisely what she’d just done. Frankly, from the way she rambled on, I took her to be in understandable shock from all that she’d just been through.’

‘You mean the murder of four of the five people she planned on killing?’ jibed Yianni.

‘Remember, please, that she did not know at the time that her husband had survived. It was a twisted, mixed moment for her. Euphoria at the thought he was gone from her life, and overwhelming guilt at murdering her children’s father and four other people – as complicit as they were in her husband’s crimes.’

‘What did you tell her?’ asked Andreas.

‘What could I tell her? She’d just confessed to multiple murders and told me of her plans to announce everything to the world in three days. She’d already done her damage, and her announcement would be equivalent to turning herself into the police.’ Seraphim sighed deeply. ‘So, I did what most people would have done if confronted with such an existential moral dilemma. I stuck my head in the sand and prayed her announcement would come soon. But then she died. And I saw no reason to say more. Sort of like how I feel right now.’

‘Let’s take another break.’

‘Fine, after which I’ll take up your detective on his promise to arrange a ride for me back to my office.’

‘Understood. We’ll be back in ten.’

‘I’ll be waiting for you.’

Andreas and Yianni went straight from the interview room to Andreas’s office. Andreas dropped on to his desk chair and Yianni on to the sofa.

‘So, what do you think?’ said Andreas, slapping his hands on his desktop.

‘I don’t like the guy.’

‘I hadn’t noticed.’

‘And I don’t think he was entirely candid with us.’

‘Whoever is?’

‘More importantly, I don’t think his best friend Alexandra was entirely candid with him. I don’t buy her story that she went through all that complicated planning just so that she could announce to the world she had rid it of her horrible husband. That result could have been achieved in any number of simpler ways. There had to be another game at play.’

‘Agreed, so why do you think she did it this way?’

‘For the drama?’

‘That’s my take, too,’ said Andreas. ‘It’s a moment packed with drama. Why waste it on an “I shot my man ’cause he done me wrong” storyline? Here’s a chance to recast your destiny.’

‘And despite the line she sold her golf buddy doctor, if she repeated that same story in what she planned to “announce to the world” on her favorite golf course, she had to know she’d be confessing to not one but five murders, and face being locked away for life. Plus saying bye-bye to what Tassos’s sources suggest was her life-long ambition of running for political office.’

‘Precisely,’ nodded Andreas. ‘The speech she intended to deliver about dedicating her fortune and the rest of her life toward bettering the lives of poor souls struck me as a not-so-subtle variation on the traditional candidate’s pitch to the electorate.

‘But it would only work if she pitched herself as the sole survivor of either a horrific accident or blatant assassination attempt upon her and her husband.’

Andreas sighed. ‘But like so many other things in life, we may never know what’s true, mostly true, slightly true, or absolutely false. And in this case, does the truth really matter? She’s dead and despite our shared dislike of Seraphim, his story is convincing enough for me to see little chance of convicting him as an accessory.’

Yianni nodded. ‘The only open questions I see are: who is this Svengali character, and was he responsible for Manos’s death?’

‘Unless you see something I don’t, we should let the good doctor go with firm instructions not to discuss our investigation with anyone, and to let us know immediately if he recalls anything that might be helpful in identifying Boutsis’s mysterious accomplice.’

Yianni cleared his throat. ‘Chief, there’s one other thing.’

‘Yeah, I know.’

‘This story Boutsis allegedly told Seraphim puts LV Lines at the heart of an international criminal smuggling empire linked to Onofrio.’

Andreas shut his eyes. ‘I just can’t believe it.’

‘Assuming – as I do – that Lila and her father are innocent of any criminal wrongdoing, they’re still mixed up in a public-relations and potential civil-liability nightmare.’

Andreas sighed and nodded.

‘So, what do we do?’

Andreas opened his eyes. ‘We go after LV Lines with everything we have until we isolate its rotten core.’

‘When do we start?’

‘As soon as you arrange for Seraphim’s ride back to his office and sincerely thank him for his cooperation.’

‘Do I have to smile, too?’

‘Yes. And act like you mean it.’

Andreas sat quietly at his desk, resting his right elbow on the desktop as the fingers of his right hand braced his right temple and cheek. He hadn’t felt this lost in decades. Not since his hero cop father’s death by suicide. Back then, Andreas was eight and helpless to defend his family against the meritless accusations, drawn by the scent of scandal, that fed piece by piece on all those Andreas held dear.

Those days nearly drove his mother mad and shaped his own life in ways he had yet to fully process. But this time would be far worse. Andreas came from a working-class family, the story of his father’s death only had legs strong enough to carry it so far. Far enough to injure his family, but not enough to destroy it.

If the story Seraphim had to tell was true, or only close enough to be believable, it would send cataclysmic shockwaves through Athens society and give eternal reason to rejoice to those media and social predators who thrived on schadenfreude-laden tales of the rich and famous falling from grace.

Linking Lila and her father to Onofrio’s criminal smuggling activities would destroy their family. And he couldn’t risk even telling them what had happened. At least not yet, for he had no helpful news to soften the blow, let alone a potential explanation or solution. Worse still, with Lila’s father’s ill health—

‘Chief, are you ready?’

‘Ready? Oh yes, let’s go.’

‘Where to?’

Andreas cleared his throat. ‘The Venizelos Airport headquarters of LV Lines.’

TWENTY

It was mid-afternoon when Andreas and Yianni arrived at the offices of LV Lines. They asked to speak with Christos Vlahous but were told he had left for the day.

‘Is Mr Reichardt in?’ asked Andreas.

‘Yes.’

‘Please tell him that his friends Andreas and Yianni would like to speak with him.’

‘Certainly.’

‘Oh, by the way,’ added Andreas, is his assistant in?’

‘Assistant?’

‘Lefteris.’

‘Oh, sorry. I think of Mr Drivas more as the company’s bookkeeper than Mr Vlahous’s assistant. He’s rarely in the office.’

‘So, he takes care of the company’s bookkeeping and customer financial arrangements?’

‘Yes.’

‘Thank you.’ Andreas handed her his card. ‘Please give this to him the next time you see him and tell him I’d like him to call me.’

‘Certainly, sir.’

A minute later, Niko came into the reception area and waved for them to follow him inside. He led them back to his commandeered conference room and motioned for them to sit wherever they liked. He took a seat in front of a row of metal filing cabinets.

‘So, what bubbling intrigue has you surprising me with a visit?’

‘Actually, we didn’t come planning to see you. We wanted to talk to Christos.’

‘He’s pretty popular these days. He was chatting me up in here when the receptionist popped her head in to say he had a male visitor who insisted it was important he speak to Christos immediately. Christos excused himself, went out to meet the visitor, and next thing I knew he was gone.’

‘Did you catch the visitor’s name?’

‘Never heard one mentioned, but from the way Christos raced off, I think it’s pretty clear he knew him.’

‘Did you get a look at the visitor?’

‘No. I didn’t even know he’d left until the receptionist told me he was gone for the day.’

‘What do you make of that?’ asked Andreas.

‘It’s a bit late in the day for golf. And I don’t think Christos plays.’

‘Exactly,’ said Andreas. ‘What’s your take on him?’

‘Charming, knowledgeable about his business, likes associating with high rollers, knows how to play naive when he thinks it will elicit information he wants, but is not nearly as smooth as he likes to think he is.’

‘What do you mean by the not-nearly-as-smooth bit?’

‘Every day he finds a reason to stop in here and chit-chat about meaningless things, all leading up to what’s really on his mind.’

‘Being?’

‘Any developments in Onofrio’s condition or news on what brought down the plane.’ Niko spun around on his conference room chair and pointed at a free-standing, four-drawer metal filing cabinet behind him.

‘His questions were so predictable that I started playing a little game. Whenever he’d finally get around to asking what was on his mind, I’d open one of those file drawers as if consulting some document relevant to his question. Then I’d give him some BS answer that I knew would satisfy him.’

‘What sort of BS answer?’

‘“Onofrio’s doctor is guarded about his patient’s condition,” or “the plane went down in very deep waters making the recovery of the black boxes highly questionable.” They were answers that would allow him to draw whatever conclusion he wanted.’

‘Why do you think he asked the questions?’

‘The bigger question is: why didn’t he believe my answers.’

‘I don’t follow you,’ said Yianni.

‘The first thing I’d do the next time I was in the office was go to the file drawer I’d opened to answer his question and check to see if little silly things I’d left in the drawer had been disturbed.’

‘Such as?’ said Andreas.

‘A half-dozen golf balls arranged in such a way that they’d lose their order the moment the drawer was opened by someone who wasn’t expecting them to be there. I’ve got a dozen tricks like that to catch people looking where they shouldn’t.’

‘That sounds like spy tradecraft,’ said Yianni.

Niko smiled. ‘Back when I worked for the air force – long before all of today’s electronic surveillance equipment – there was something going on called the Cold War, and we had to be alert to potential spies. This is child’s play compared to the techniques we used back then.’

‘Did Christos fall for your tricks?’ asked Yianni.

‘Every time.’

‘Why would he be spying on you?’ asked Andreas.

Niko shrugged. ‘Perhaps he’s just looking out for the company’s interests and wants to know what direction the investigation is heading.’

‘But the company is insured and has lawyers looking after those interests,’ said Andreas.

‘That won’t help its reputation if the company intends on continuing to do business.’ Niko looked at Andreas. ‘Nor the family’s reputation, depending on how the details are slanted.’

‘What do you think is his real motive?’ asked Andreas.

‘I suspect there is something he doesn’t want you to know, or if you already know, not be able to prove it with evidence and witnesses.’

‘Like a massive smuggling operation?’ said Yianni.

‘I’d say that’s a good assumption. Though I can already hear him trying to smooth-talk his way out it.’

‘How?’

‘Oh, by saying he was only snooping to protect the company’s owners from the fake-news media. His ultimate fallback position being, yes, he knew about the smuggling, but played no part in it and received no profit from it. He did what he did purely out of loyalty to the family that gave him a break.’

‘What a sweetheart,’ said Yianni, spitting on the word sweetheart.

‘Sounds to me the only way to nail him is to get the bad guys who worked with him to turn on him.’

Niko gestured ‘no.’ ‘That’s not going to be easy.’

‘Why?’ asked Andreas.

‘Because his two most likely collaborators died in the plane crash.’

‘The pilots?’ said Yianni.

‘Yes. Not sure if it was planned to be that way or just a bit of luck for Christos that the crash wiped out the only two witnesses capable of linking him definitively to Onofrio’s illicit operations.’

‘Aside from Onofrio, of course,’ said Andreas.

‘But I thought the pilots’ references were checked out as legitimate with no criminal connections?’ said Yianni.

‘According to the company’s personnel files,’ said Niko, ‘their histories were above reproach. In fact, everyone working for the company checks out as A-grade hires according to those records.’

‘I sense a big but coming,’ said Andreas.

Niko smiled. ‘I checked out the company’s personnel list on a classified database not publicly available and found that the company’s records on its employees were accurate … with two exceptions.’

‘The pilots,’ said Yianni.

Niko nodded. ‘It’s something that should have been picked up on a background check by someone as knowledgeable as Christos. The two were former US Air Force pilots accused of war crimes for bombing a hospital during the Afghan campaign. They were found not guilty of the charge. But it’s the sort of thing that can haunt you for the rest of your life, even if it’s not what I’d consider grounds for denying employment. I can understand why the pilots would leave it off their résumés. What I don’t understand is how that was missed by Christos.’

‘Maybe it wasn’t missed, but rather a quid pro quo opportunity to fly and recast their CVs in exchange for Christos securing their eternal devotion and obedience. A commitment Christos turned into abject loyalty to his partner in it all, Onofrio.’

‘Sounds plausible,’ said Yianni

‘So where do we go from here?’ asked Niko.

‘As far as I can tell there’s only one witness still alive who I’m certain can bring down Christos …’ Without taking my family out with him.

‘Onofrio?’ said Yianni.

‘Yes.’

The very last person Christos wanted to see at his place of legitimate business was Sydney Cotsis. Big, brutal, and a likely sociopath, he had great value to someone in Christos’s smuggling business. He was not one to mess with. Even the big boys like Onofrio avoided crossing him. When Christos realized he’d been called out of his conversation with Niko to meet with an unhappy Sydney Cotsis, the blood drained from Christos’s face.

It was charm time. ‘My dear friend, how are you? Would you like a coffee?’

‘I want to talk to you about something troubling me deeply.’

‘My, my – if it troubles you, it troubles me. Come, let’s step outside where we can talk without disturbing the receptionist.’ Christos headed straight for the front door without waiting for a reply from Sydney. He stepped outside and held the door open for Sydney.

‘So, where would you like to talk?’ asked Christos. ‘Here, or somewhere else?’

‘Follow me, in your car.’

He wasn’t sure if that was good news or bad, but if he didn’t follow Sydney, he knew it wouldn’t end well. He followed Sydney’s beige Toyota out of the airport and on to roads winding their way through the heart of Spata. Christos was relieved at not being led off into some remote olive grove or overgrown vineyard. It seemed safer to be among people.

Not that a crowd would deter Sydney if he felt it necessary to kill him.

They parked in front of a busy taverna, and Sydney motioned for Christos to follow him around to the back of the building and into a shed that served as the butchering area. Two chairs sat across from each other at the butchering block, with a bottle of tsipouro, two glasses, and an ice bucket on top of it.

Christos’s sense of relief was gone. But he kept talking. ‘Nice place you have here.’

‘It’s a friend’s.’ He motioned for Christos to sit.

As Christos sat, he said, ‘So what’s troubling you, Sydney?’

‘Would you like something to eat?’

‘No.’

‘Drink?’

‘No, I’m fine thank you.’

Sydney sighed and shook his head at Christos. ‘I’m very disappointed in you.’

With shock on his face and the fingers of his right hand pointing at his heart, Christos squeaked, ‘Me. How could you be disappointed in me?’

‘I’ve done you a lot of favors over the years.’

‘Absolutely.’

‘And I’ve never complained about our payment relationship.’

‘Never.’

‘But never did you set me up as badly as you did with the last guy I eliminated for you.’

‘What last guy?’

‘Malaka. Christos, you talk like you think I’m wearing a wire. Or are you doing away with so many these days that you just can’t keep track? I’m only talking about one whack.’ He emphasized ‘one’ by jutting his index finger in front of Christos’s face.

‘You neglected to tell me that the guy you told me to run over was the equivalent of a cop. And not just any cop, but one investigating the crash of your company’s plane that ultimately took out five people linked to Onofrio, but left Onofrio still breathing.’

Sydney leaned across the table close enough to force Christos back a bit. ‘Do you have any idea how much heat that’s put on me? This was not a bad-guy-killing-other-bad-guys situation. It was a really-bad-guy-killing-a-super-good-guy.’ The big man sat back and shook his head. ‘You should have told me. I’m very disappointed.’

Christos was surprised at how comfortable he’d suddenly become. He sensed this had all become a matter of money. ‘Sydney, it all happened so fast that I never had the chance to explain to you why I needed it done so quickly.’

‘So, tell me now.’

‘You and I have worked together for many years – earning a good living, I would say.’ He waited for Sydney to react, but he didn’t. ‘Just when the moment had arrived for us to truly break into the big leagues, that investigator was about to destroy it all.’

Sydney shrugged. ‘Us? What do you mean by us?’

‘Sydney, there’s no way I could possibly take advantage of this opportunity without you as my partner.’

‘Partner?’

‘Yes,’ nodded Christos. ‘I have all the contacts and you have all the skills to see that those who would oppose us stay in line. And soon we’ll have all the equipment we need to continue the business for our benefit and no one else’s.’

‘How’s that?’

‘The family that owns my company is frightened to death of bad publicity. I will make them an offer to take all their problems off their hands in exchange for them turning all their company’s assets over to me.’

Sydney glared. ‘To us.’

Christos quickly nodded. ‘Yes, yes, to us.’

‘And just when will this all happen?’

‘Once the only person alive who can definitively tie me into doing business with Onofrio is silenced.’

‘Who’s that?’

‘Onofrio.’

Sydney shook his head. ‘I must say, you have balls. I bring you out here to tell you how disappointed I am in you for putting me at risk, and you turn around and ask me to take out the one person who can make my life even worse than it is for killing that investigator.’

‘It will only be worse if you fail to take him out.’

‘Like you failed, huh?’

‘That’s why I need you as my partner. You’re better than anyone I know at doing that sort of thing right.’

Sydney narrowed his eyes. ‘Just one bit of advice, dear friend. Don’t ever go looking for someone who you hope may be better than I am at doing that thing right, because I’ll hear about it for sure and come looking for you. Understand?’

Christos swallowed nervously. He decided this was not the right moment to mention Onofrio’s doctor as another loose end that would require prompt attention. ‘Understood.’

‘Good,’ said Sydney extending his right hand to Christos. ‘Partner.’

Christos paused for a second to look at the offered hand, then forced a smile and reached across the table to shake it.

‘Partner.’

In their years together in the Foreign Ministry, Christos had become Alexandra’s unofficial source of advice on understanding the seamier side of life, and how best to play those who could not be trusted to follow the rules, be it in business, politics, or personal relations. He had an uncanny knack for sensing what drove the good and the bad to act as they did. In Alexandra’s case the answer was obvious. She’d been bitten by the political bug, and once infected the affliction haunts one for life. Whether as a curse or a goal depended upon the victim.

As he drove away from his meeting with Sydney, Christos thought of his first encounter with Alexandra.

I could smell her desire for political acclaim and instantly knew how to cultivate it. My advice became invaluable to her, and in her unlikely marriage to Onofrio I saw the making of a deal with the devil intended to re-engage her in the political life she’d promised her family.

In it he also saw momentous opportunity for himself, and from practically the day of their marriage Christos began grooming Alexandra to one day take over her husband’s business operations.

I led her to see her husband’s deeply flawed and morally challenged life as a gift sent to her by God, and brought her around to believing that, through the unfit, God teaches us that salvation is out there, and that the good shall prevail if they continue on the path to redemption.

She came to believe if she hung in there long enough to take over her husband’s empire, she could use his ill-gotten gains to benefit those who’d suffered at his hands, aided in her efforts at doing good by my knowledge of her husband’s operations.

I taught her to accept that my deep involvement in her husband’s godless affairs was actually part of a master plan to bring the world to a better place. The plane crash would initiate this great sea change, followed three days later by Alexandra’s speech to the world, all carefully orchestrated by me, her mentor and savior.

All Christos’s planning fell apart when Alexandra learned he had arranged to have her children accompany her and their father on the plane. Being part of a plan to kill her godless husband was one thing, but costing her children their lives was quite another. He tried convincing her it was God’s way, for only by ending Onofrio’s lineage in this world could they ensure their salvation in the next. She wasn’t buying it. It was either no children on the flight, or no flight at all.

I had no choice but to agree to her condition, or face a lifetime of fear that Onofrio might someday learn of my involvement in a plot to assassinate him. But I could not excuse her betraying me, her creator and benefactor. The end of Onofrio’s lineage was necessary if mine were to flourish in its place.

Christos did not show up at their agreed-upon crash coordinates, leaving Alexandra to fend for her survival by other means. When she succeeded, he caught up with her elsewhere – at the northern coordinates where they’d planned to meet up and maneuver her life raft on to Costa Navarino for her planned epiphany speech to the national media. Christos no longer trusted her to speak. She was far too angry with him to risk what she might say. All the long-awaited rewards for his years of hard work and deception could evaporate in an instant should she launch into a public diatribe against him.

So, in the middle of Alexandra’s second night alone at sea, Christos used a borrowed refugee smuggler’s hard-hulled fishing vessel to ram his longtime friend and her raft into oblivion. Killing Alexandra amounted to simply another necessary betrayal in a long and productive life full of double-crosses and deception.

And once Sydney Cotsis completes the tasks I have in mind for him, the big assassin will face the same fate.

By the time Andreas got home he had a doozy of a headache. The kids wanted to play, but all he wanted to do was drop into a warm bath with an icepack on his head. Still, he put aside his discomfort and played with the kids until Lila took pity on him.

‘You look zonked out. Are you OK?’

‘Your first observation pretty well sums up the situation.’

‘Bad day in the office?’

‘Bad day everywhere.’

‘Anything you want to talk about?’

‘Not now. Maybe later.’ He paused. ‘How’s your dad doing?’

Lila glanced at him sidelong. ‘That’s a strange question to ask after saying it’s been a bad day at the office.’

‘I’m just curious about your father’s state of health.’

‘Mother says he’s fine. Now tell me why you asked.’

‘Will it satisfy you if I yank you into the tub with me?’

‘I doubt the result will satisfy either of us.’

Andreas laughed. ‘I’m just worried how he might react if bad press starts to come in over that plane crash.’

‘I think he can handle it. But to be honest, I think we should pull out of that investment. We know nothing about that business and are totally in the hands of the man running it.’

‘You mean Christos Vlahous.’

‘Yes. Perhaps we should just sell it off?’

‘Any buyers in mind?’

‘No, but the natural buyer would be Vlahous.’

‘Have you or your father approached him with the idea?’

‘No.’

‘Has he approached either of you?’

‘Not that I know of.’

‘Do me a favor and tell your father what I’m about to say to you: If Vlahous or anyone purporting to act on his behalf contacts you about the possibility of selling the business to him, thank whoever it is for the interest and say you’ll take it up with your lawyers. Then call me immediately.’

‘Andreas, what’s going on?’

‘I think Vlahous is trying to orchestrate the acquisition of the company, and that might involve an effort to raise the scent of scandal if you don’t sell.’

‘What kind of scandal?’

‘The kind that sells newspapers.’

‘Tied into Onofrio?’

‘Undoubtedly. But don’t tell your father that. There’s no reason to upset him.’

‘For sure. You’re more than upset enough for the two of you.’

‘Thanks for being so understanding.’

‘You’re welcome. Now how about you yank me into that tub you were talking about?’

He bowed. ‘Rubber ducky and I are at your service, ma’am.’

TWENTY-ONE

Pink-tinged sunrises marked the unofficial end of Athens’s late-night pause to recharge its batteries. So, too, ended the temporary reprieve from the city’s seemingly endless traffic granted to early-bird drivers off to work and late-night partiers struggling back home.

For Andreas, this daybreak might well be his final opportunity to confront Onofrio mano a mano before his release from the hospital. If, as Seraphim said, Onofrio had returned to his real-world, paranoid self, he’d want out ASAP. Hospitals aren’t as secure as a crime boss’s residential fortress. Especially this busy hospital on Kifissia Avenue, a main artery between central Athens and its northern suburbs.

Andreas made it from the parking lot, through the main entrance, on to Onofrio’s floor, and up to his door without so much as a glance from anyone along the way. The cop at the door barely looked at the ID Andreas flashed at him as he opened the door and stepped inside.

Perhaps Onofrio’s paranoia was well-founded. When Yianni got to the hospital Andreas would have him deliver an appropriate lecture to the cop. But for now, Andreas’s mind was elsewhere.

Onofrio lay on the bed listening to his earbuds. As soon as he saw Andreas, he took them out. ‘I thought you’d forgotten all about me, Chief Inspector. No more visits, no more midnight messages.’

‘Happy to hear you’re in good spirits.’

‘I should be. I’m getting out of this prison today.’

‘I thought you might be.’

‘So, this is your farewell visit to say thanks for the memories we’ve shared?’

‘Nope.’ Andreas sat in a chair by the side of the bed. ‘I’m here to fulfill my promise to you.’

‘What promise would that be?’

‘I know why your wife did what she did, and who likely helped her along the way. What I can’t tell you with certainty is how she died. At least not yet.’

Onofrio leaned forward, face tightened. ‘Tell me names.’

‘I can’t give you names because I can’t yet prove anyone did anything wrong, and if I give you a name, we both know what will happen.’

‘I don’t need proof, just the names.’

‘Which is precisely why I can’t give you names. But the moment I have the proof I need, they will be publicly arrested.’

‘I want their names now.’

‘Or what? You’ll come after me? I wouldn’t recommend that. I’m likely the only person still anxious to keep you alive.’

‘Don’t flatter yourself.’

‘It’s not flattery. We both know your life is in more danger now than it was before the failed assassination.’

‘How do you plan on protecting me?’

‘I don’t. I’m just warning you to be careful until we come up with the proof we need to put away whoever’s trying to kill you.’

‘And how do you expect to get that proof?’

‘From the obvious source. You.’

Onofrio jerked his head back. ‘Me! You expect me to name people I do business with?’

‘Think about it, Dimitris, who else but someone looking to take over your business would go to the extremes that your assassination plotter did. This was not a cowboy effort by some pissed off regular citizen looking to take you out. This was a highly sophisticated, carefully thought-out plan that, had it succeeded, would not only have eliminated you, but elevated your wife to heroine status across Greece.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘Just believe me when I say this game is far from over. Whoever undertook to kill you is now attempting to drag innocents into this, hoping to make them look guilty in your eyes and the target of your revenge.’

Onofrio smirked. ‘Like your wife’s family?’

Without batting an eyelash Andreas said, ‘Yes, like my wife’s family.’

‘Are you surprised I knew about that?’

‘Not at all; it’s a matter of public record.’

‘But aren’t you afraid of what I might do to them?’

Andreas gestured ‘no.’ ‘Not in the least.’ He leaned forward, stared Onofrio in the eyes, and flatly said, ‘If I were, I’d put a bullet in your head right now and be done with you.’

Onofrio smiled. ‘I admire your frankness, but if I learn they were involved—’

‘You never will because they weren’t. The only person who would ever tell you that they were is whoever used your wife to try to kill you. Period. End of story.’

‘Understood.’

‘Uh, do you mind if I use your bathroom?’

Onofrio pointed to a door. ‘Go ahead. Just promise not to turn this into that scene from The Godfather where Al Pacino comes out of the WC with a gun and starts blazing.’

Andreas smiled and pointed his trigger finger at Onofrio like a handgun. ‘Promise.’

Sydney Cotsis believed in getting things done in the most expeditious way possible. Subtle planning was not his forte. He excelled in surprising his victims when they least expected it, then moving on to his next assignment.

That seemed the perfect technique for doing away with Onofrio. The assassination of such a notorious bad guy would not draw serious police attention for long. But once he left the hospital, he’d be a hundred times harder to kill, protected by his army of bodyguards and criminals.

That’s not a risk he was prepared to take. A remotely detonated bomb would be the best device for minimizing his personal risk outside the hospital, but that tactic would create a massive outcry for the capture of whoever dared to kill inevitable innocents – possibly children – as collateral damage while doing away with a lone bad guy.

As Sydney saw it, it was best to kill Onofrio while he remained tucked away in his hospital room.

The best time to do that was the early morning, in the midst of the shift change from night duty to day. That’s when double the number of staff were on the floor, often gossiping with each other, and new faces were not suspicious.

For the occasion he wore an orderly’s coat, the least likely role to raise suspicions and one that permitted him entry to virtually any room to empty its trash and clean up whatever mess there might be. And on the off chance Onofrio might recognize him from past encounters, he disguised himself behind a false dark beard and matching dreadlocks.

The cop outside the room didn’t give him a second look as Sydney pushed his cleaning cart into the room. The man in the bed simply nodded.

Sydney moved the cart over to where it blocked the door to the bathroom.

‘I wouldn’t do that if I were you,’ said Onofrio.

Sydney blinked and looked away. ‘Why is that, sir?’

‘Because the guy on the other side of that door might like to come out before you go in.’

‘Don’t worry, I won’t be long.’ He reached under his coat and pulled out a semi-automatic fitted with a silencer.

‘Hey! GUN! GUN! GUN!’

Sydney took aim at Onofrio’s forehead as the door to the bathroom swung open, driving the cart into Sydney’s side. Sydney swung around to aim at his new target and got off two rounds, but not before Andreas had also fired twice.

The cop in the hallway came rushing into the room.

Onofrio yelled, ‘Get an emergency medical team here now. Your chief inspector has been shot!’ He pointed to Andreas lying next to the cart.

The cop raced out of the room.

When he returned with a resident and nurse, Onofrio was standing at the foot of the bed holding the killer’s silenced weapon in his hand.

‘What are you doing?’ shouted the cop.

‘Saving your colleague’s life. This assassin regained consciousness and was reaching for his gun to kill the injured officer when I pulled myself out of bed to struggle with him for the gun. Sadly, it went off, striking him in the forehead.’

He handed the gun to the cop and looked at the young doctor, who was moving to tend to Andreas on the floor. ‘How is he?’ asked Onofrio, nodding at Andreas.

‘A very lucky man. He took two shots in the chest and knocked himself out when he hit the floor.’

‘That’s lucky?’

‘He was wearing a ballistic vest.’

Onofrio peered down at Andreas’s chest, bare and bruised. ‘Is he wearing anything else?’

‘Like what?’ asked the resident.

‘A wire?’

‘No.’

‘Good. I wouldn’t want to think I’d just saved the life of someone I couldn’t trust.’ Onofrio bent down and whispered in Andreas’s ear. ‘Thank you, buddy. I owe you one.’

When Andreas woke up, he was in a hospital room hovered over by a nurse and Yianni.

‘What happened?’ Andreas asked.

‘Let’s start with you’re not in heaven,’ said Yianni.

‘I could tell that the moment I saw you in the room.’

Yianni smiled. ‘Great, your feeble sense of humor is back on track.’

‘Where’s Lila?’

‘By the time I got here the doctors said you’d be fine, and I decided not to alarm her. I’ll leave that up to you.’

‘Just tell me what happened.’

‘The official or unofficial version?’

‘I’m an ill man, just tell me.’

‘You were in the WC when the assassin entered the room dressed as an orderly and pulled out a gun to kill Onofrio. That’s when Onofrio yelled GUN.’

‘Yes, I remember that part.’

‘You pushed open the door, sending the cleaning cart into the perp sufficiently hard enough to throw off his aim at Onofrio, but he still got two shots off dead center at you as you shot him twice.’

‘Did I kill him?’

‘No, that honor belongs to Onofrio. He claims that while you were out, he saw the perp coming around and reaching for his gun to finish off the two of you. Onofrio got out of bed and fought him for the gun and that’s when it went off, accidentally putting a bullet in the perp’s head.’

‘How convenient.’

‘And no one’s prepared to disagree with that scenario.’

‘Does anyone know who the perp was?’

‘According to his prints his name is Sydney Cotsis, a brutal bad guy with a very bad record. A hired killer known to be impetuous and ruthless, but not that bright.’

‘Sounds like someone who if told to kill a target ASAP wouldn’t hesitate to stage a hit-and-run then drive back and forth over the body several times just to make sure.’

‘As I said, no one’s about to challenge how he died.’

‘Get me my clothes.’

‘Sir, you can’t leave yet,’ said the nurse.

‘I appreciate your concern and thank you for your care, but there’s a lunatic out there with no compunction about killing again to cover his tracks.’

Yianni handed Andreas his clothes. ‘Where are we headed?’

‘To see Christos.’

‘But your shirt has bullet holes in it.’

‘Good; they’ll show how invested I am in nailing his sorry ass. By the way, do you have a photo of the dead guy that shows the bullet hole in his head?’

‘Uh. Yes?’

‘Make sure to bring it with you. It will emphasize my point.’

LV Lines’ receptionist smiled when she saw Andreas and Yianni walk through the front door. ‘You’re becoming a regular visitor here, sir,’ she said to Andreas.

‘Is Mr Vlahous in?’

‘Yes, sir. Shall I tell him you’re here?’

‘Thanks, but no need to. I know the way.’ Andreas started toward the company’s offices but hesitated and looked at the receptionist.

‘Do you remember when I was here yesterday you told me that Mr Vlahous had left with a visitor you did not know?’

‘Yes.’

‘Yianni, show her the photograph. Is this the man who met with your boss?’

Still smiling she reached for the photo. Shock replaced her smile, and her hand began to shake. ‘What is this? What’s happened to him?’

Gently, Andreas said, ‘Just tell me if this is the same man who came here to see Mr Vlahous and left with him?’

She nodded, then turned away from the picture.

‘Thank you. Would you like some water?’

‘No, but I need to go to the bathroom.’

‘Certainly.’

She hurried off toward a door marked WC, as Andreas and Yianni went for the door to the company offices.

Christos was sitting behind his desk when they walked into his office. He did not seem surprised to see them. ‘Gentlemen, welcome. Always a pleasure to see you. Would you like some coffee?’

‘No need to bother.’

‘It’s no bother, I’ll have our receptionist get it for us.’

‘She’s a bit indisposed at the moment, and I’d rather we not be disturbed.’

Christos shrugged. ‘Whatever you say. After all, you’re the boss … in a manner of speaking.’

‘So,’ said Andreas, ‘what can you tell me about Sydney Cotsis?’

The question did not appear to surprise him.

‘Who?’

‘Sydney Cotsis.’

‘Never heard of him.’

‘Honestly?’

‘Yes, of course, I have no reason to lie to you.’

Yianni smirked.

Christos stared at Yianni. ‘What’s that look supposed to mean?’

‘What do you think it means?’ Yianni gave him a Spartan stare.

‘Easy does it, Detective,’ said Andreas. He looked at Christos. ‘We’d like you to search your memory as to whether you can recall ever at any time meeting with Sydney Cotsis?’

‘I don’t have to search my memory. I do not know anyone by that name.’

Andreas shook his head. ‘That’s the problem we have. You keep saying you don’t know this man and yet your receptionist told us Sydney Cotsis is who came to see you yesterday unexpectedly, and you immediately left with him.’

‘She must be mistaken.’

‘Really?’

Christos blinked twice, then dropped his head back against his chair’s headrest. ‘Oh, that man. I had no idea who he was.’

‘Then how did he come to ask for you by name?’

‘My name’s on the front door as general manager. Anybody can ask for me. Salesmen do it all the time?’

‘Was the guy you met a salesman?’

Christos gestured ‘no.’ ‘He was looking for a different General Aviation office, so I walked him outside and pointed him where to go. Then he drove off in his car, and I left in mine for lunch.’

‘Would you recognize him if you saw him again?’

‘I doubt it. He looked perfectly ordinary to me.’

‘We have a photograph we’d like you to look at and tell us whether this is the same man who was asking for you yesterday.’

‘Sure, anything to help you and your family out.’

‘Yianni, show him the photo.’

Christos had a Cheshire Cat smile, showing his confidence as he viewed the picture. His smile vaporized and his eyes widened as he saw the late Sydney Cotsis with a bullet in the center of his forehead.

‘What’s this? Who’s this? What happened?’

‘To answer your questions in order, it’s a photo of a dead guy, the dead guy is Sydney Cotsis, and as for what happened, ask your client Dimitris Onofrio, because he’s the one who put the bullet in Cotsis’s head.’

‘Is he in jail?’

‘By he I assume you mean Mr Onofrio. Why should he be in jail? It was in our self-defense.’ Andreas pointed to the two bullet holes in his shirt. ‘As I’m certain you can imagine, Mr Onofrio and I are taking this matter very seriously, and are pursuing answers in our separate ways to determine who was behind this effort to kill us. We know poor Sydney wasn’t acting on his own.’

‘I know nothing about any of this.’

‘Good luck convincing Onofrio of that,’ said Yianni. ‘I’d say your only escape from a slow – or quick – death is to cooperate with us. And as much as you might disagree with our interrogation style, I can assure you it’s far more civilized than what you’ll receive from Onofrio.’

Christos’s face remained fixed like stone. ‘I know nothing about any of this.’

Andreas stood up and reached across to take the photo back from Christos. ‘You won’t be needing this. If you want a copy, I’m sure Onofrio will be more than happy to share one with you from what will soon be a rapidly expanding photo gallery of his greatest hits.’

‘Have a nice day,’ deadpanned Yianni.

Once outside and back in their car, Andreas said, ‘We better bring Niko up to speed. No telling what sort of lunatic measures Christos will try now in an effort to save his ass.’

‘He acted as if he was expecting us to tell him Onofrio was dead.’

‘I had the same thought. But with the smugness wiped off his face, I think it’s fair to say he now sees himself as Onofrio’s next target.’

‘How do you think he’ll play it?’ asked Yianni.

‘My guess is he’ll try to smooth talk his way out of this by convincing Onofrio to blame someone else.’

‘Such as?’

‘Seraphim is the likeliest candidate, considering his long relationship with Alexandra. But desperate times call for desperate measures, and if I’m reading Christos correctly he’s desperate in all capital letters.’ Andreas exhaled. ‘Which means he’ll be working overtime creating what he sees as the most credible tale for Onofrio to believe and delivering it to him ASAP. Because time is not on Christos’s side.’

Yianni hesitated for a moment. ‘But what about the risk to your family? What do you want to do about that?’

‘There’s not much I can do other than be alert and pray that time is on our side.’

‘You did save his life.’

‘I tend to doubt that matters much to someone like Onofrio, but I’d like to think it does.’

‘Where do we head now?’

‘Back to the office.’ Andreas paused. ‘But let’s stop at a church along the way. I want to light a candle.’ He swallowed. ‘Several candles.’

TWENTY-TWO

The call arrived on Onofrio’s mobile.

‘Oh, my dear friend Christos. How special to hear from you. How are you doing during these treacherous times?’

‘I’m f—fine. I just heard of the horrid incident in your hospital room and I’m calling to see how you’re doing. It must have been frightening.’

‘Nah, it reminded me of the old days. Really got the blood flowing. Confronting death can do that for a fellow. Don’t know if you ever had the experience.’

‘No. I haven’t.’

‘I wouldn’t think so. You strike me more as a delegator. You use your keen mind and insight to achieve your goals, plus of course, the occasional field worker for special projects.’

‘Dimitris, I think we should talk as soon as possible.’

‘We’re talking. I’m all ears. What do you want to tell me?’

‘It’s the kind of conversation we should have in person.’

‘Oh, so it’s that kind of talk. Very well, how about tomorrow morning around nine?’

‘Can’t we do it tonight?’

‘You make it sound as if someone’s dying.’

‘No, no, nothing like that. I just really need to talk with you.’

‘Sorry, friend, but I just got out of the hospital this afternoon after someone I believe you know tried to kill me. I’m not in the best mood for a chat at the moment. I suggest you accept my invitation to meet tomorrow at nine. Just bear in mind that Alexandra’s much-delayed funeral will take place in the early afternoon in a private family ceremony, so be on time.’

Onofrio heard a decided gulp on the other end of the phone. ‘OK, sure, fine. Nine it is.’

‘Looking forward to it.’ He hung up and stared at the phone. ‘Can’t wait.’

At one minute to nine the next morning, Christos stood by the front gate to a three-meter-tall beige concrete wall encircling Onofrio’s property. He pressed an intercom button as he stared into a camera.

A voice immediately responded, ‘Mr Onofrio will see you now. Just walk straight to the front door. Don’t worry about the dogs. They won’t bother you if you stay on the path.’

As he stepped inside the gate, four Rottweilers, two on each side of the path, came charging toward him. He froze. The dogs kept coming, and he shut his eyes in mortal fear.

The dogs stopped at the path. Christos opened his eyes and carefully walked down the middle of the path straight to the front door. The door opened and a maid led him through a set of rooms adorned with European paintings and objets d’art. She stopped at a heavy mahogany door and knocked twice before opening the door slightly.

‘Your guest is here, sir.’

‘Show him in, please.’

Christos struggled to put on his most charming smile as he stepped into the room. ‘Dimitris, how good to see you.’

‘How good to be seen,’ said Onofrio adjusting the blanket covering his lap, and positioning his wheelchair to face Christos. ‘And before you ask, the wheelchair is temporary. It’s doctor’s orders only until I rebuild the strength in my legs.’

‘Thank God for that,’ said Christos crossing himself three times.

Christos did a quick look around the room. It was paneled in the same mahogany as the door and filled with trophies, photographs, and awards linked to Onofrio’s many ownership interests in athletic teams. ‘Quite impressive.’

‘Thank you. So, what is it that has you all fired up to see me so urgently?’

‘I’m worried for your life, and sick at the thought that I somehow unwittingly may have played a part in the attack upon you yesterday.’

‘You have my attention.’

Christos drew in and let out a deep breath. ‘I should have realized the mistake I was making in giving Sydney Cotsis’s name to my boss.’

‘Your boss?’

‘Yes, Lila Vardi.’

‘Why would she want his name?’

Christos shook his head, then held it in his hands. ‘Lord forgive me. In a million years I’d never have thought that classy lady would want the name of someone to kill you.’

‘Whoa, whoa, you’re getting way ahead of yourself. Why did she say she wanted his name?’

‘She asked me if I knew someone who could frighten away a person who was threatening her.’

‘Her husband is a chief inspector and she needed to ask you for help in dealing with a threat?’

Christos nodded. ‘I thought the same thing. And I asked her that very question. She said it was a personal matter between her and someone she did not want her husband to know about.’

‘A lover?’

‘That’s what I assumed. And so, I gave her Cotsis’s name.’

‘So, what happened?’

‘I was being set up.’

Onofrio sighed. ‘Jesus, just tell me the details, and stop with the drama.’

‘Sorry, but I’m not used to this sort of thing.’

Onofrio shut his eyes. ‘Just tell me.’

‘I didn’t realize until your plane crash that Vardi and her husband were the brains behind an orchestrated effort to assassinate you. She’s who seduced your wife into believing it would be a better world with you no longer in it. Her pitch to Alexandra was built upon the same sort of BS as your wife’s doctor friend Seraphim had been feeding her for years.’

‘Seraphim? Yes, he happened to be my wife’s longtime sounding board for all the sorts of complaints wives have about their husbands, but he’s also a very good doctor and was mine long before I ever met Alexandra. You just need to learn to deal with his quirky pomposity. Once he’s properly chastened, I’m planning on rehiring him for his medical skill. I can’t imagine how Lila Vardi would know anything about Alexandra’s conversations with Seraphim.’

‘I assume she learned everything about Seraphim from pillow talk with your wife.’

Onofrio’s voice tensed. ‘Are you saying my wife and Lila Vardi were lovers?’

‘As painful as it is to say, I think the answer is “yes.”’

‘Hm. Who else do you see as involved?’

‘Dr Seraphim picked her up at the crash site and took her to the location where he later killed her and left her body to float ashore where you found her.’

Christos paused, as if waiting for a reaction. ‘Then there’s that aviation expert, Niko Reichardt, who Vardi hired to cover her and her husband’s tracks. He tried to hide the proof I’d found that the parachute linked to your wife was purchased by someone who matches Lila Vardi’s description. He also arranged for Cotsis to kill the young aviation investigator who was about to tell the truth about the crash. Then he tried to make me look responsible for everything tied to the crash and the death of the young investigator.’

‘Let me stop you right here,’ said Onofrio. ‘Why in the world would a chief inspector and his very rich and connected wife want to kill me? I have nothing to do with them.’

‘They want to take over your business. They somehow learned about our business relationship and wanted it all for themselves.’

‘What proof do you have?’

‘Beyond what I’ve already said, we all know how crooked cops can be, and how jealous old-line Athenians are of those they consider of lesser class who succeed in business. In this case we have a chief inspector said to be the most incorruptible cop in GADA emerging as the most corrupt of all, in service to the aspirations of his jealous wife.’

Christos put his hands together as if in prayer. ‘I have nothing to gain by telling you all of this, but after all the years we’ve worked together, my conscience won’t allow me to rest without telling you the truth, so help me God.’

‘What is your conscience suggesting I should do?’

‘That’s up to you, but based upon what happened yesterday in the hospital, I think it’s plain they will not stop until you’re dead.’

Onofrio nodded. ‘I see your point. Thank you for sharing all this with me, my friend. I shall not forget it.’

A little past noon Andreas received a call at his office from a voice he did not recognize.

‘Is this Chief Inspector Kaldis?’

‘Yes, who’s this?’

‘A friend of a friend.’

‘OK, Mr or Ms Friend, your scrambler’s working, so tell me what’s on your mysterious mind.’

‘You, Niko Reichardt, Dr Seraphim, and your wife are all invited to attend a happening today in a vineyard out by Spata.’

‘And if I decline?’

‘It’s not in your or your family’s best interests to say no.’

‘Do us both a favor, numb nuts, and lose this number.’

Andreas hung up, stared at the phone, and counted down from ten. At three the phone rang. Andreas picked it up.

‘Have you decided to change your approach?’

‘This is not an event you’ll want to miss.’

‘Let’s start with the proposition that my wife under no circumstances is going anywhere; as for the other two, I’ll ask them, but can’t promise they’ll join me. At what time is this soirée called for?’

‘Four.’

‘And what’s the address?’

‘Just wait by the airport to hear from me. I’ll call you with the coordinates.’

‘One last question. What’s the dress code?’

‘Dress code?’

‘Yes, I’d like to know if vests are in order.’

A pause, and what sounded like a scrambled chuckle were followed by, ‘Vests will not be necessary.’

Click.

As soon as the caller had hung up, Andreas yelled for Maggie to fetch Yianni.

‘What’s up?’ said Yianni, double-timing it into Andreas’s office.

‘I actually don’t know, but I’ve just received an invitation to attend some sort of happening at four this afternoon in some yet-to-be-identified vineyard out by the airport, and was told to bring Niko, Seraphim, and Lila with me.’

‘Lila?’

‘That was my reaction. I told the caller no way she’d go anywhere and that seemed OK. Not sure if the others will go, but I’ll be there. I want you and a female officer to stay with Lila and the kids until you hear from me. The same goes for getting two officers over to Lila’s parents’ house and keeping them there until you hear from me.’

‘This could be a revenge setup.’

‘I know. It’s why I’m going. Better to find out now rather than live the rest of my days wondering if there’s somebody out there waiting to go after my family.’

‘Do you want back up?’

‘Let’s see precisely where the meet is first. But have a half-dozen SWAT guys ready to go.’

‘Will do.’

Niko and Seraphim agreed to come along with Andreas. Niko as a point of curiosity and Seraphim out of fear of what might happen if he turned down the invitation. Strength in numbers was the doctor’s motto.

Andreas arranged to meet them at the airport’s police facility at 3:00 p.m. He saw no benefit in raising Christos’s suspicions by meeting at LV Lines.

By 3:30, Andreas still had not received coordinates for the meeting, but as it was to take place at a vineyard near the airport, he didn’t expect to receive them until the last moment. That would minimize the possibility of Andreas organizing a response team to counter whatever the bad guys had in mind.

The call came through at 3:40 with coordinates about fifteen minutes away from the airport. With Andreas driving, he and his two passengers made it to the site in ten minutes. It was at the end of an off-the-beaten-track bumpy dirt road, just beyond a tar-paper shack deserted even by the homeless. The long-untended vineyard was overgrown with weeds.

‘This is scary. It looks like the perfect setting for a horror movie,’ said Seraphim.

‘The question is, are we about to participate in the opening or closing scene?’ noted Andreas with a smile.

‘That’s a good point,’ said Niko. ‘Because if someone does intend on using this as the opportunity for taking all of us out in one swoop, sitting together in a car out in the middle of nowhere makes us convenient and easy targets. I suggest we get out and spread out.’

They all jumped out and quickly moved away from the car toward a clump of cypress trees.

Andreas looked at his watch. ‘I don’t know about you, but—’

‘Shh, quiet,’ said Niko.

‘Quiet?’

‘There’s a plane headed this way. I’m trying to get a fix on it.’

Niko listened for a minute. ‘It’s a jet headed straight for us and losing altitude.’ He paused again. ‘Damn, it’s just what I thought.’

‘Care to share?’ said Andreas.

‘It’s a Gulfstream, like the one Onofrio was on when it crashed.’

‘He’s trying to kill us with the same plane that almost killed him,’ cried Seraphim.

‘My God,’ said Niko, ‘it sounds and looks like the rear luggage door is open.’

‘Just like in the crash,’ said Andreas.

‘They’re going to bomb us!’ screamed Seraphim.

‘Here it comes,’ said Niko, pointing at the rear of the plane and a long cylindrical shape falling in their direction.

Andreas instinctively said a prayer and crossed himself.

The cylinder hit the ground about thirty meters away from where they stood, as the three of them braced for an explosion … that never came.

‘Was it a dud?’ asked Seraphim.

‘Don’t touch it until I get the bomb squad here,’ shouted Andreas.

Niko cautiously made his way to the shape and knelt for a closer look.

‘For God’s sake, don’t touch it,’ repeated Seraphim.

Niko turned and smiled. ‘You don’t need the bomb squad. You need a carpet cleaner.’

‘What are you talking about?’ said Andreas.

‘It’s a body wrapped in a carpet fastened shut by duct tape. Christos Vlahous’s body, to be precise.’

‘Dead or alive?’

‘I’ll leave the definitive diagnosis on that point to the good doctor, but in my humble opinion falling the equivalent of a twenty-five-story building from a plane traveling at several hundred miles per hour likely means that whatever condition he was in when he left the plane, he’s dead now.’

Seraphim reached down to take the body’s pulse. ‘He’s gone. And from what I see, I’d say it’s the fall that killed him.’

Andreas leaned his head back and looked up at the disappearing speck that had carried Christos to his death. ‘These people aren’t human.’

‘It’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,’ said Seraphim. ‘And why Alexandra was willing to risk her life to end her husband’s.’

‘Chief Inspector,’ said Niko. ‘I think you ought to take a look at this.’ He pointed to a printed, laminated card looped around the dead man’s neck.

‘What is it?’

‘It’s a message. But it doesn’t say to whom.’

‘Just read it, please,’ said Andreas.

Niko crouched down. ‘Hi, buddy. Now we’re even. Thanks for keeping your word and for your good advice on who not to believe. Stay safe.’

‘Who’s that for?’ asked Seraphim.

‘Search me,’ said Niko.

‘Me too,’ chimed in Andreas.

‘We all know who’s responsible for this!’ screamed Seraphim. ‘Dimitris Onofrio is a cold-blooded killer.’

‘Yes, he likely is,’ said Andreas.

‘Then what’s going to happen to him?’

Andreas turned away from the body. ‘The same thing as always happens to guys like him. He’ll live a long life until someone decides to end it for him.’

EPILOGUE

Several months had passed, and life for Andreas had returned to its normal hectic pace. He’d had no further dealings with Onofrio, nor wanted any.

Lila and her father decided to donate their interests in LV Lines to Fresh Start, a charity Lila co-founded for the purpose of saving trafficked young teenage girls. With Andreas’s prodding, they convinced Niko to take charge of the new company’s day-to-day operations … on the condition that Niko’s duties would not interfere with his golf game. Andreas also convinced LV Lines former bookkeeper, Lefteris Drivas, to organize and accurately update all the company’s financial records or face a financial crimes inquiry.

Andreas was sitting at his desk when Maggie walked in and dropped a press release on to his desk.

‘What’s this?’

‘Just read it.’

The family of Dimitris Onofrio is sad to announce the passing of their patriarch, a renowned and respected community and business leader. Mr Onofrio passed away in his sleep surrounded by his family. The cause of death is listed as cardiac arrest. According to longtime family friend and physician, Dr Gabriel Seraphim, Mr Onofrio’s health steadily deteriorated after the tragic passing of his wife, Alexandra Boutsis, an event from which he and all who loved her never recovered.

Andreas looked up and stared at Maggie.

‘What do you think happened?’ she asked.

‘As I said, Onofrio’s life would likely last until someone decided to “end it for him.”’ Andreas handed the release back to Maggie. ‘Little did I realize I was giving instructions to his likely executioner.’