Deadline in Athens (26 page)

Was he telling me all this because he believed it or because he wanted to demonstrate to me how to be as slippery as an eel? After having me up for suspension, now he was playing my guardian angel. As soon as he realized he was going to get involved with Pylarinos, he'd turned tail and was trying to get himself out of it.

"So, tell me then, what do you intend to do?"

"I'll send a written request to customs to find out what the refrigerator trucks that Karayoryi refers to were carrying. I'll ask at the airport to find out if there are passenger lists for the groups and the charter flights."

"And if there aren't?"

"I won't do anything for the time being. I don't want to have to ask for them from Pylarinos's company because it'll create suspicion, and we don't want that. I'll send the film to be developed so that we can see what's on it. And I'll question the Greeks who went to Prague, Warsaw, and Budapest. I want to know why they went."

"But how are we going to get close to Pylarinos without stirring up a hornets' nest?"

"I know someone who can give us information. He's not one of us. He's a personal friend of mine and I can't reveal who he is. But he's a reliable source."

He looked at me and smiled. "Okay. What's going to happen with Petratos?"

"I will wait for the report on the handwriting and the lab report on the wire. But, just between us, I'm not too optimistic. The wire's the common variety-you can find it at any hardware shop. As for the letters, I no longer believe that they were written by Petratos. No, they were written by whoever wanted the file from Karayoryi. It's not out of the question that the two cases are unconnected, as you said, and that Petratos is the murderer. But it requires further investigation." I remained silent and looked at him. "There's something else. Good news."

I told him about Kolakoglou. He listened to me and his face lit up. "Why didn't you tell me before?" he said enthusiastically.

He grabbed the telephone and told Koula to get Delopoulos on the line. I gazed at him, amazed. He noticed and smiled.

"You're wondering what I'm doing, right?" he said. "Now you'll see what it means to be flexible."

When Delopoulos came on the line, he told him everything, apart from the name and address of the bar. He put the phone down, obviously pleased with himself. "Delopoulos is over the moon. From now on, he'll call me. He'll leave you alone to get on with your work. And something else. I want those two reports, yours and the other one on Kolakoglou, to send to the minister. You have to know how to keep mouths shut."

His gaze turned to the other file, the blue one. He opened it and skimmed through it quickly. Slowly he raised his head. "You understand that I'm obliged to order an immediate internal inquiry," he said.

"I understand, but I would prefer you to delay it."

Why.

"First of all, Karayoryi's dead and she's not going to steal any more reports from us. But whoever was providing her with them may have some deeper involvement. Now he's not worried, because he thinks that no one's on to him. If you order an internal inquiry, you'll alert him. Let's proceed with the investigation and see what other evidence comes up."

"All right," he said after reflecting for a moment. "I'll inform the minister orally and tell him that I'll delay it." He collected the file and handed it to me. "Lock it in your drawer. It would be better if no one else knew of its existence."

I was so eager to get going that I didn't have the patience to wait for the elevator. I went down the stairs two at a time. When I turned into the hall, I saw the familiar throng at my door.

"To Superintendent Ghikas for any statements. As you know, he's taken charge of the case"

They knew and didn't press me. They began moving toward the elevator. Sotiropoulos pretended to follow them but stayed behind.

"Can we have a word?"

"They have me gagged. Don't put me in a difficult position."

He smiled, he quite understood, and he gave me a friendly pat on the back. "A passing storm," he said in a soothing tone.

I took a sheet of paper and copied first the arrivals of the refrigerator trucks and then the arrivals of the groups and the charters. On another sheet, I copied the five names from Karayoryi's second list. I summoned Sotiris in.

"Ask customs what these refrigerator trucks were carrying. They most likely belong to Transpilar, Pylarinos's company. And ask at the airport if they have the passenger lists for these groups and charters. They were probably met by some tourist agency also owned by Pylarinos. And I want you to question these five in person. I want to know why they were traveling."

He took the two pieces of paper, but he didn't leave. Pylarinos's name had aroused his curiosity and he wanted to know more.

"Stop dawdling. I'll tell you eventually. And send Thanassis in."

While waiting for Thanassis, I started to put the finishing touches to my report, but I didn't have time. In less than a minute, he was in my office.

"They called from the lab," he said. "The wire is the same as that used to kill Kostarakou, but they can't say whether or not it's the wire actually used in the murder. If we'd found the wire used by the murderer, they might have been able to tell whether it had been cut from the same piece. At any rate, they're certain that the wire wasn't cut using scissors or pliers, but broken by hand."

That was something. If Petratos had seen the wire by chance and the idea had suddenly come to him to use it, he would have cut it by hand in his rush. Of course, anyone wanting a piece of wire who couldn't be bothered to go and get a pair of pliers would have done the same.

"Petratos drives a black Renegade. I want you to comb the area where Kostarakou lived and find out if anyone saw it around the time of the murder. It's unlikely that they'll have remembered the license number, but make a note of it anyway. It's XRA 4318. And give this film to the lab to be developed."

I got rid of Thanassis and settled down to the report. In less than a quarter of an hour, it was done. Before handing it in, I phoned Politou, the examiner who'd undertaken the Albanian's case, and informed her of the new evidence that had come to light.

"How strong is the likelihood that we're dealing with a trade in babies?" she asked me.

"Too early to say. But it's not unlikely that the Albanian murdered the couple for the reasons that Karayoryi suspected and not for those he claims in his confession.'

I see. I'll let you know as soon as I call him for the inquest," she said and hung up.

I submitted the two reports to Koula and then went down to the basement, where the records are kept.

The officer in charge was surprised to see me. "It's not often we see you, Inspector Haritos."

He was around forty and always had a smile on his face. He'd had the misfortune, a couple of years back, to have a run-in with a minister's son, who'd had a row in a bar and had seriously injured one of the customers. The minister had exerted pressure to get his son off on a plea of self-defense, but Yannis was irritated by the boy's arrogance and wouldn't give way. In the end, the boy got a six-month suspended sentence and Yannis ended up in records.

"Yannis, I need a personal favor from you."

"If I can be of help, of course."

"I need to know what files from our division have been asked for in the last year and a half and who took them."

"Last year and a half?" he said, and it was plain that his spirits had well and truly sunk.

"Yes, and I want it to remain between us. I don't want anyone at all to learn of it."

I knew this would be a real chore. He'd have to search all the lists one by one. But I didn't know the numbers of the files and I didn't want to ask for them from my own boys, because that could alert Karayoryi's accomplice.

"What am I going to do? Say no?" Yannis said. "But it's going to take some time."

"Be as quick as you can be." I shook his hand warmly to show him my appreciation.

It had started to drizzle. I got into my Mirafiori and went to find Zissis. This was my friend, the one I'd kept hidden from Ghikas.

CHAPTER 27

Lambros Zissis lived on Ekavis Street in Nea Philadelphia. If you set off around one o'clock, as I did, you need at least an hour and a half to get down from Galatsiou Avenue to Patission Street, to come out onto Acharnon Street, and, from Treis Yephyres, to get onto Dekelias Avenue. Ekavis Street lies in a fork, between Dekelias Avenue and Pindou Street, and runs parallel to lokastis Street. Hecuba and Jocasta, two fallen queens. It was as if they'd put them together to tell of their sufferings and console one another.

I'd met Zissis at security headquarters on Bouboulinas Street in '71 when I was a cell guard. Kostaras had always insisted that we be present at the interrogations, supposedly so that-greenhorns that we were-we might learn something, or so he said. Deep down, he didn't give a damn about our "training." It was simply that he prided himself that there was no one he couldn't break, and to prove it he set up a whole show at which we greenhorns were the audience.

But in Zissis, he found his master. Zissis had begun his career in the dungeons of the SS on Merlin Street, had gone on to the Haidari prison, had taken his diploma in the detention camp on the island of Makronissos, and was as tough as they came. He sat staring Kostaras straight in the eye, and never opened his mouth. Kostaras was fuming. He tried all his advanced technology on Zissis: beatings, bastinado, fake executions. He'd let him soak for hours in his clothes in a barrel of freezing water, take him up to the roof above Bouboulinas Street and threaten to throw him off; he even tried electroshock, but all he managed to get out of Zissis were his screams of pain. He never uttered so much as a word. Whenever I took him back to his cell, I'd have to hold him under the arms and drag him because it was impossible for him to stand on his own feet.

At first, I'd taken him for a plucky but misguided lunatic who would break sooner or later. But while it lasted, I began making bets with myself to pass the time, given that I was obliged to sit in silence and witness the whole spectacle. It was as if I had placed a bet that Zissis wouldn't break. Perhaps that bet was how we came to know each other. They had him in strict isolation and wouldn't even let him go to pee. During the night shift, when I was alone in the cells, I'd let him out of his cell to get a bit of air and stretch his legs. I'd give him a cigarette, and if Kostaras had had him in the barrel, I'd let him lean against the radiator to let it soak up a little of the dampness. Whenever I heard footsteps, I'd lock him back into his cell. I told myself I was doing it so that he'd keep up his strength and I'd win my bet. When I took him to empty the slop pail and he spilled it because he didn't have the strength to lift it, or when I dragged him back to his cell after an interrogation, I'd give him the odd backhander in front of the others so they wouldn't think I was being soft on a commie. That way I'd get in trouble. I never explained to him why I did it, nor did he ever thank me. Afterward, they took him on a stretcher to the Averof prison and I lost touch with him.

I met him again, completely by chance, in the corridors of the security headquarters in '82. His hair had turned white, his face was covered in wrinkles, and he was walking with a stoop. But the look in his eyes still inspired you to bet on him. We stood there staring at each other in silence. We both felt embarrassed. Neither of us dared make the first step. Suddenly, Zissis held out his hand to me and, shaking mine, said: "You're okay, man. Too bad when you became a policeman."

I don't know what I was thinking. I said: "Would you let a policeman buy you a coffee?" I was sure he'd say no, but he laughed. "Let's have one, now that we commies are legal and you fascists are all democrats," he said. "Who knows what'll happen tomorrow." Over coffee, he told me he'd come to the security headquarters because he needed a certificate to enable him to draw the pension given to members of the resistance, but he was being messed around. I undertook to take care of it for him. It was then that he told me he lived in his family house on Ekavis Street in Nea Philadelphia.

At that time I was on the drugs squad and had begun to learn my broken English. One day, we got a call from the police station in Nea Philadelphia. They had information that a house on Medeas Street was a hideaway for illicit drug dealing, and they asked us to investigate. The chief sent me so that they could fill me in. Zissis's certificate had been issued in the meantime, and, as I'd be in the area, I thought of letting him know he could come and pick it up. It wasn't just to do him a favor. I hoped he could give me some information about the area.

He lived in one of those houses built without planning permission that were added to the town plan just before the general elections. The small front yard was filled with cutoff oil cans, painted in various colors, containing geraniums, carnations, lemon plants, and begonias. He welcomed me without much enthusiasm, though he offered to make me a coffee.

"You didn't have to go to so much trouble over the certificate," he told me. "I would have called you."

When I explained to him why I'd come, he shot me a scornful glance and shook his head fatalistically. "Ah, you people will never change. You're always chasing after the last spoke in the wheel. Harmanis is the man you want."

The Harmanis in question had a motorbike business that he used as a front for pushing drugs. Everyone knew it, even the police at the local station, but he was a former army officer and had friends in high places. I was surprised that Zissis knew all this.

"As long as I can remember, you've been keeping tabs on me," he laughed. "Now, I've decided to keep tabs on a few of your people. Just to get some of my own back. Who knows, in the future I might write a book on all these sharks and need the information on them." And he smiled wryly.

But when I asked him to show me his files, he grew serious. "I'm not even going to even tell you where they are. I wouldn't put it past you to confiscate them."