Mykonos After Midnight (23 page)

Her eyes shifted to the photograph of the young girl. She dropped her head.

I must make inquiries.

Chapter Thirty

It was early morning when the email arrived from Teacher’s colleague in Athens. It read simply: ATTACHED ARE ALL FILES ON THE APPLICATION YOU REQUESTED.

The contact was thorough. The attachments included a copy of an application for a casino license on Mykonos. It was stamped as submitted to Greece’s ministry of finance the day after the hotel owner had agreed to sell his interest in the hotel lease. Listed as the applicant was “Sergey Tishchenko.”

That was not as they had planned. It would be foolish to hold a license in a single individual’s name because the license would lapse should anything happen to that person.

Why would he do this? He surely knew better than to steal from her. Perhaps he thought of it as insurance against her killing him should she become disenchanted with him, as the license would end with him?

She smiled. She admired that sense of self-preservation. Her smile faded. As long as he did not plan to steal from her.

She read on. The application was filled with the words of lawyers.

He couldn’t have done this on his own. He had help. But from whom? Wacki? Not a chance. But there had to be others involved in preparing this application, persons she did not know. She did not like that.

Teacher cleared her throat and finished reading the application. It contained financial representations and divulged sources of funds necessary to complete the project and bond the performance obligations of the casino. She knew the accounts, they were hers that she’d put in Sergey’s name for purposes of the application.

She looked for questions about the hotel lease, but there were none. The application focused on the applicant’s financial abilities and background, not on specific details of the facility to be operated within the approved venue. That would come later, after the ministry approved the license. She read on and lingered for a moment over the signature of Sergey Tishchenko.

The next document made her pause. It was a one-line memorandum from the minister of finance to the section chief responsible for casino licenses. Above the signature of the minister was typed, DO WHATEVER NECESSARY TO APPROVE THIS APPLICATION ASAP. The directive was dated the day after the cop was kidnapped.

That document could only mean one thing. But Sergey had never told her he had Christos’ files. He’d kept that from her. There was no way this minister would have given such firm instructions in writing other than in mortal fear of what was in those files. It would also explain how the kidnapped cop was found and rescued so quickly. The cops who had Christos’ files must have turned them over to Sergey in exchange for their friend’s release, and then killed his captors as a message to any others who might consider kidnapping cops. That’s what she would have done in their position.

Why had Sergey not told her? Was he waiting to surprise her with the license?

Subconsciously, she drew a deep breath, but stopped at a wince of pain. What could he possibly be thinking?

She looked at the last document. She read it twice. It was formal approval by the minister of finance of the issuance of a license to Sergey Tishchenko authorizing him to operate a casino on the island of Mykonos, dated yesterday.

He’d not told her the license was approved. Maybe he didn’t know? No, he would have known immediately. That minister would have told him.

Teacher stroked her forehead. This was all far too strange to be true. Perhaps he believed she would die and that once she did all that was in his name he’d be able to keep for himself? How could he be so foolish? So shortsighted?

She was prepared to treat him like a son, groom him to succeed her, and he betrayed her? No, that could not be.

She shut her eyes and rocked back and forth in her chair. She would not judge him on this alone. There was another step to take. Another inquiry to be made.

It took until late afternoon before Teacher’s Athens contact got back to her with the additional information. But she now knew what had happened. It was a clever ruse, but had failed. She also knew whom to punish.

***

The lights illuminating the Acropolis had just gone on, and Lila was sitting on a sofa sipping a glass of wine and looking across to the Parthenon when Andreas walked into the apartment.

“Perfect timing,” said Lila. “Come sit with me.” She patted the seat.

Andreas walked up behind her, bent down, and kissed her on the cheek. “I’ll get a glass of wine and join you.”

Lila picked up a little silver bell from the table in front of her and rang it.

“Yes, ma’am,” said Marietta, looking in from the next room.

“A glass of wine for Chief Kaldis, please.”

Marietta nodded and left.

“I know. You would have preferred to do it yourself.”

Andreas shrugged as he walked around the sofa and sat next to Lila. “I’ve given up that battle.”

“Where’s Yianni?”

“He said he had to meet a cop friend.” Andreas smiled. “I told him not to stay out too late.”

“I just heard from Maggie. The doctor said Tassos could have visitors tomorrow but only for a brief time, and only in the morning.”

“Terrific. Yianni and I will be there first thing tomorrow.”

“Any word on what’s happening with Sergey?”

Andreas gestured no. “All we can do is hope Wacki took the bait, Teacher followed up, and she believes what we planted. If she thinks she’s being conned, no telling what that maniac might do.”

“You seem concerned.”

“Trust me, I am.”

***

The next morning, a somewhat hungover Kouros and mercilessly chatty Andreas made their way to the hospital. They parked in the lot reserved for doctors and entered the hospital through the main entrance. Andreas told Kouros to “follow the color purple” for the elevators to the burn unit.

“I wonder who came up with this idea of putting colored lines in floors for directions. Pity the poor colorblind,” said Andreas.

“Could you please stop talking for just a while, Chief. I’m trying to clear my head for Tassos.”

As they reached the purple elevator bank Andreas said, “That mercy pitch won’t work. Although if you told me why you got in so late last night, perhaps I could be convinced to shut up for a while.”

“Fuck you.”

“Such language, and to your boss, no less.”

A tall man also waiting for the elevator and carrying a box of flowers looked away. Andreas couldn’t blame him. Their back and forth banter probably qualified them for outpatient status in the psycho ward.

The elevator doors opened and the three men stepped in. Andreas pushed the button for five and with his finger still poised above the panel asked the man with the flowers, “Which floor?”

The man didn’t respond but instead reached over and pressed “6.”

Suit yourself, thought Andreas.

They got off the elevator, nodded to the guard, and walked down the hall toward Maggie sitting in a chair at the end of the hall. As soon as she saw them she jumped up and hugged them.

“He’s so excited that you’re coming.”

“Where’s the other guard?” said Andreas.

“Spiros thought one was enough.”

“Bastard,” said Andreas.

“Just take it easy in there, please. The doctors don’t want him getting worked up.”

Andreas nodded.

“And whatever you do, don’t make him laugh. Thankfully, they didn’t burn his face, but he’ll be in pain if he starts to laugh.”

“I’ll let Yianni do all the talking. That should keep things from getting funny.”

“Like I said, guys, don’t make him laugh.”

“Can we go in now?” said Kouros.

“First, we need to go into that dressing room to cover our street clothes and hair and put on a mask.” She pointed at a door to the left of a pair of large, swinging doors marked BURN UNIT. “It’s to prevent infection.”

They dressed as Maggie said, walked into the burn unit, and stopped outside a room on the right at the far end of the hallway.

“This is his room.” She led them inside. The lighting was dim and the only sound a distinct background hum punctuated by an occasional ping. Tassos lay on his back hooked up to intravenous lines, monitors, a tube down his nose, and more tubes coming from beneath a cover over his body.

“You look like shit,” smiled Andreas.

Maggie shot him a look.

“Sorry, I was told not to make you laugh.”

Tassos struggled to say, “Never have before, so, don’t worry about starting now.”

Kouros said. “Glad you’re feeling better.”

“When I heard what you did to those bastards I felt better real fast. Thanks.”

“No need to,” said Kouros. “You’d have done the same for us.”

Tassos was quiet for a moment. “The doctors told me that if you hadn’t gotten to me when you did I might not have made it.”

Andreas and Kouros looked at their feet.

“But I don’t believe him. I think he was just trying to make you two fuckups look good.”

Andreas and Kouros burst out laughing.

“Stop that this instant. All of you.”

“Easy, my love, I’m feeling no pain.” Tassos’ voice sounded stronger, less struggling.

“They gave me some really good meds. Besides, the doctor told me I was lucky getting my burns the way that I did. If I’d been electrocuted or caught in a fire, I’d be in much worse shape. Hard as that may be to believe.”

“You really do look great,” said Andreas.

“Now I
am
worried. So, quick, before the nurse throws you out of here, tell me what’s happening. Maggie’s already told me about Teacher and the mysterious caller. My guess is the caller was my contact at Europol covering himself by acting as if he were a third party. He’s been involved in some, shall we say, unorthodox arrangements over the years, but if he were involved in what’s going on with Sergey he never would have left that message.”

Andreas quickly briefed him on what they knew and what they’d done.

“Boy, now you’re the ones playing with fire. Let’s just hope Teacher doesn’t figure everything out.”

“You’re beginning to sound like Lila.”

The door swung open, and a figure in the doorway waved at them.

“It’s time to go,” said Maggie.

“Damn these rules,” said Tassos.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be back as soon as the doctors say that we can,” said Kouros.

“And next time I’ll bring Lila.”

“Give her my love.”

They all blew kisses to Tassos and left.

As they walked up the hall Andreas said, “He looks better than I thought.”

“You really perked him up.”

Andreas nodded. They walked through the swinging doors, headed toward the dressing room, when a man hurried out of the dressing room. He didn’t bother holding the door open for them.

Malaka
, thought Andreas. As he reached for the door handle one word raced through his mind: flowers.

He swung around looking for the man. “Yianni that’s the guy from the elevator with the flowers. Get Maggie back to Tassos’ room and don’t let anyone near that dressing room. Keep everyone away. It could be a bomb.”

Andreas ran down the hall to the elevators and asked the cop, “Did a tall guy just get on the elevator?”

The cop gestured no.

“Get down inside that burn unit, last room on the right, and ask Detective Kouros for instructions. And hurry.”

The cop ran down the hall.

Andreas thought, if he didn’t take the elevator…the stairs! Andreas ran back down the hall and stopped twenty feet before the burn unit at a door on the left marked STAIRS.

He opened the door. No one was inside and he heard no one on the stairs. Up or down, which way did he go? Andreas bolted down ten steps and stopped.

If it’s a bomb, how would he know when to set it off unless he knew we were inside the dressing room? For that he’d need a visual on us.

Andreas raced back up the steps and slowly pushed open the door. He peeked across the hallway. The man needed a visual on the room…a visual on the room. There it was. A linen closet across the hall.

Andreas carefully slipped out into the corridor making sure the door made no sound as it closed. He crossed quickly to the far wall and hugged it as he moved toward the linen closet with his gun in his left hand.

Please, God, don’t let him have a deadman switch on that detonator. He looked at the hinged, far side of the door. It angled in a bit, enough to mean the door was open slightly on the side closest to Andreas.

Andreas crossed himself with his right hand, edged up flush with the doorjamb, and kicked at the bottom of the door two feet up from the floor with enough force to send a soccer ball sixty yards.

He heard the grunt before he saw the man stumbling backward toward the rear of the closet, a cellphone in his hand. Andreas stuck his gun between the man’s eyes and with his free hand motioned for the phone. The man winced and handed Andreas the phone.

Andreas had cuffed him by the time Kouros found them in the closet.

“The bomb squad is on the way.”

“Who’s with Tassos?”

“The cop from the elevator. I told him to shoot anyone he doesn’t recognize trying to get into Tassos’ room.”

“Do you know this guy?” Andreas grabbed the man by his hair and lifted up his head.

“Yeah…from the video. He’s the tall one of the two who murdered Christos. Where’s your buddy, asshole?”

“You’re wasting your time. He doesn’t speak Greek. That’s why he didn’t give me his floor number on the elevator when I asked for it.”

“Lucky break for us that you remembered.”

“Tell me about it.” Andreas crossed himself. “Get someone over here who speaks Polish. I want to know where his buddy is. And how he knew we’d be here this morning.”

“He won’t talk,” said Kouros.

“Just make sure the interpreter doesn’t have a queasy stomach.”

Andreas patted the man’s cheeks. “A man who was about to blow up a hospital filled with sick and injured people will talk. Believe me, he’ll talk.”

***

Sergey looked at his watch. He should have heard by now. Tassos Stamatos’ girlfriend always was at the hospital by now. All the man had to do was get close enough to her to leave the flowers, blow her away, and get out in the confusion.