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Authors: Jeffrey Siger

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BOOK: An Aegean Prophecy
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But Kouros wasn’t interested, so he tuned the guy out, stared off into the distance, and tried to concentrate on how to nail Zacharias.

‘So, what do you do my friend?’ The guy smiled and put his hand on Kouros’ thigh. In the not-too-distant past, that move would have resulted in a certain loss of fingers.

Kouros returned the smile, reached into his shirt for his ID, stuck it in the man’s face, and said, ‘I’m a cop charged with investigating special crimes that come to my attention.’

The guy’s eyes turned to headlights and he was off the stool and out the door before Kouros could say another word.

Kouros shook his head and grinned. The chief would be proud of me, he thought. Damn, I’m starting to sober up. Guess it’s time to head home. He thanked the bartender and swung off the stool - right into a stunningly well-built blonde trying to slide onto the barstool next to his.

‘Easy there, big fella.’ There was a dazzling smile behind the words. ‘What’s your hurry? I’m just getting off work. The evening’s still young.’

Kouros slid back onto his barstool thinking, I just love it here.

It’s an unstated law on Mykonos that no one disturbs a partier before two in the afternoon. When the banging began on Kouros’ door it was just before one.

‘Jesus, Mario, how could you forget your key?’ Kouros stumbled out of bed and kept yelling to his buddy, ‘Mario, cool it already, I’m coming.’ He yanked open the door. It wasn’t Mario.

‘Morning, Yianni. Nice shorts.’

‘Tassos? What are you doing here?’

Tassos stepped inside without asking permission. ‘Andreas told me you were here for the weekend. I didn’t want you being alone for Easter. My cousin’s family lives here and you’re invited to everything, just like one of the family.’

‘Thanks, Tassos, but—’

‘Honey, who is it?’ The voice came from the bedroom.

‘Just an old friend.’

‘Thank God it’s not a wife. They make such scenes.’

Kouros looked at his feet.

Tassos smiled. ‘I think I should come back later.’

A flash of blonde raced into the room headed toward the front door. ‘No need to, old friend. I have to get to work. Kisses.’ Another dazzling quick smile, a single blown kiss, and gone.

‘What was that?’

‘Four-thirty in the morning on Mykonos.’

‘I think I arrived just in time.’ Tassos laughed again.

Kouros yawned and walked into the kitchen. ‘Coffee?’

‘Sure. Tough break about the minister shutting you down.’

Kouros shrugged. ‘I’m past that. With all the juice involved in this case, we’re lucky they let us catch the bastards who cut the monk’s throat. No chance of getting to Zacharias; he’s too wired into the right people.’

‘Christ, Yianni, you’re too young to be as cynical as I am.’

Kouros shrugged. ‘So prove me wrong.’

‘Wish I could. As I said to Andreas, “The only ones I see likely wanting to hang his ass are the Russians.”’

‘Have any Russian friends we can talk to?’

‘None who’d believe us. We’re just cops, claiming everybody but us is involved in a coverup. No way the Russians are going to take our word for it without checking everything out first. And that means whatever we say gets back to someone involved in keeping things quiet, and bye-bye pension for me.’

‘And a career change for me. Directing traffic if I’m lucky.’

‘In the middle of the National Highway.’

‘So, like I said, “Prove me wrong.”’

Tassos shrugged. ‘I’m sure the Russians know all about the bad press they’re getting here, and the rumors that they’re behind everything that’s gone wrong on Mount Athos. But Russians are a naturally suspicious sort, born and bred on intrigue. So, for working-level Greek cops to appear on their doorstep out of nowhere with a story about some war criminal Mount Athos monk being behind it all smells just too much of setup. They know damn well how much the Greek Church would love to link them to a church politics plot involving Mount Athos. It would make every smoke and mirrors press story and rumor instantly fact.’

Kouros picked up two cups of coffee, handed one to Tassos, and started drinking from the other.

‘Thanks, Yianni, but there’s no way the Russians will believe us. People just don’t confide such serious stuff to
total strangers out of the blue without a motive. Unless, of course, they’re insane.’

Kouros paused in mid-sip. ‘I have an idea. Let’s call Andreas.’ He put down the coffee, picked up the landline phone, and dialed.

‘What kind of idea?’

‘A good one, I hope.’ He waited for someone to answer.

‘Hello, Vardi residence.’

‘Chief Kaldis please, it’s Yianni Kouros.’

‘One moment please.’

Kouros looked at Tassos. ‘I think this has a speaker on it.’ He pressed a button on the handset and a few seconds later both men heard, ‘Yianni, what’s up?’

‘Chief, I’m here with Tassos and he filled me in on your conversation about the Russians.’

‘You’re on holiday, Yianni, forget about it. It’s dead and buried.’

‘I have an idea. What if we get the Russians to think they figured out on their own who Zacharias was and what he was up to? And that it was something we didn’t want them to know.’

Andreas did not sound impressed. ‘I think you’re forgetting something. We’re the good guys. Not vigilantes. Nor are we supposed to be helping foreign powers.’

Kouros sounded offended. ‘Who’s talking about helping a foreign power? We’re talking about a known war criminal behind the assassination of a Greek monk. His interest in screwing the Russians is incidental, but it’s a convenient hook to use to hang the bastard.’

Tassos said, ‘Look, I’m not a big fan of the Russians,
but I see Yianni’s point, and if he has an idea that works, it might be our only hook.’

They could hear Andreas letting out a breath. ‘So what’s your idea?’

‘You remember Mario. He’s now a sergeant here. I’m staying with him, and he told me that there are a hell of a lot of private jets in for the weekend, including a huge beauty belonging to one of the richest men in Russia.’

‘I know him,’ said Tassos. ‘He has a house on Mykonos, and a friend of mine takes care of things for him here.’

‘Well, he has a reputation as a pretty wild partier, always with an English-speaking entourage, and if we somehow can break into his crowd for a few hours, there just might be someone in there we could tempt with the story.’

There was a noticeable pause on Andreas’ end of the line. ‘Yianni, what sort of shit have you been taking?’

‘No, listen, Chief, if we can get the right guy interested—’

Andreas cut him off. ‘Why on God’s earth would one of the richest men in the world give a rat’s ass about what a monk in Greece is doing to embarrass the Russian Church?’

Tassos answered. ‘As a matter of fact, that might be the only part of what sounds like a wild-ass plan that’s a sure thing. If the rich guy bites, I’m sure it will get back to the right person.’

‘Are you two sharing the same bong?’

Tassos laughed. ‘No, asshole, listen. After the fall of the Soviet Union, some young Russians made a lot of money in highly questionable ways and left Russia to live big capitalist lives elsewhere. A lot of old, ex-socialist types who
remained in power back home were jealous of what they called the “oligarchs” and came up with a plan. They offered those newly rich a choice. Share your wealth with us, or Mother Russia will bring you home to stand trial over how you stole from her to make your fortunes. A few examples were made through all-expenses-paid, long-term vacations to the gulag life, and
voila
, the others started paying. But the oligarchs still are deeply resented, and there’s always someone else wanting a piece of them.

‘Exposing such a serious assault on the Russian Orthodox Church could buy our Mykonian oligarch a hell of a lot of good will. Remember, many of Russia’s current leaders are deeply religious and no strangers to the Russian monastery on Mount Athos. They know what’s at stake there.’

‘Damn you both,’ said Andreas. ‘I’m supposed to be at Lila’s parents’ this evening.’

Kouros spoke. ‘Look, Chief, maybe you’re right and we should forget about it. It’s really just a far-fetched idea, anyway. Not even a plan. We’d have to get you some sort of introduction to the oligarch, find some way to get him to want to hang out with you, and then—’

‘Whoa, what’s with all this “you” crap?’ said Andreas.

‘You’re in charge of the investigation. You’re the only one with enough credibility to be believed. You both speak English, and you’re also the only one of us who fits in with the look of his crowd.’

‘I beg your pardon,’ said Tassos with a smile.

‘What else were you going to say?’ said Andreas. He sounded testy.

‘You have to convince him you’re drunk enough to be
honestly confiding secrets to a total stranger at five in the morning in a Mykonos party bar.’

‘Damn, damn, damn. And I bet the plan has to start today.’

‘Don’t see a choice,’ said Kouros. ‘He’s probably here only for one night, then off to wherever for Easter.’

‘Ah, Eastertime on Mykonos,’ said Tassos. ‘A perfect example of spiritual and temporal coexistence. All of the island’s Good Friday church rituals strictly observed during the day, followed by its nearly as hallowed party traditions through the night.’

‘What time would I have to be there?’

‘Not before two,’ said Yianni.

‘It’s almost two now.’

‘I mean in the morning. These guys don’t come out until two at the earliest.’

‘Great, I can’t wait to tell Lila I’ll be spending Good Friday and Saturday on Mykonos hanging out in bars, getting drunk with wildly partying Russians. Let me talk to her first. Not sure I want to wreck my life here any more than I already have over what sounds about as crazy a plan as any I’ve ever heard.’

‘Thank you,’ said Kouros.

‘I’ll see what I can do about arranging an introduction through my mutual friend,’ said Tassos.

‘Not yet, I have to speak to Lila.’

‘Don’t worry, it won’t be a problem. Besides, she would love to see you.’

‘Who’s “she”?’

‘The lawyer for the oligarch on Mykonos. You remember Katerina. She always asks about you.’

Andreas hadn’t seen Katerina since his promotion to Athens from Mykonos. She always had a thing for him, but he’d somehow managed to avoid her, not an easy thing to do once she’d set her mind on a man. She was a bigger player than most guys, and better at it. ‘Are you smiling?’ asked Andreas.

‘Yes,’ said Tassos.

‘Bastard. Okay, see what you can do and let’s talk later.’

They hung up.

‘What do you think of our chances?’ asked Yianni.

‘About the same as Andreas does. But at least it’ll keep you out of that sort of trouble for a night.’ Tassos pointed toward the bedroom and grinned.

‘Like the Chief said, “bastard.”’ He picked up his coffee.

Tassos patted him on the shoulder. ‘It’s a really good idea, Yianni. But I think we’re all concerned about the same thing.’

‘Losing our jobs?’

‘No, setting something in motion over which we have absolutely no control.’

‘Like pouring gasoline on a campfire in the middle of a tinderbox forest?’

‘Something like that, but let’s not forget who we’re playing with. If these guys get pissed they don’t need gasoline. They’re Russians, they have nukes.’

Kouros swallowed. ‘Maybe I’ll go to church.’

‘Good idea. I think I’ll join you.’

17

Zacharias’ monastery was in full mourning mode, readying itself for the funeral of Christ. At Good Friday morning services, the body of Christ was brought down from the cross and the symbolic shroud of his earthly form placed upon his bier, the
epitaphios
. Across Greece this was the day of Christ’s wake, a time for paying respects, practising traditions like passing three times beneath the
epitaphios
for good luck and blessings, and prayer.

Zacharias remembered other funerals and other bodies. Mainly bodies: the unburied, the buried together. The times had demanded it. One must do what must be done on earth as it is in heaven, he thought. There was no choice then, and there was less choice now. Time was running out. The Ecumenical Patriarch would not live forever.

BOOK: An Aegean Prophecy
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