Jeffrey Siger_Andreas Kaldis 02 (10 page)

Chapter 10

The alarm went off twenty minutes before, but all Andreas could manage, so far, was drag himself out of bed long enough to hit
start
on the coffee maker and plop face-first onto the sheets. His father always had a morning coffee the old-fashioned way: his wife made it for him. But Andreas preferred appliances. Some day he’d get married, raise a family, and make his mother thoroughly happy. For now, there was no time, not even enough to court a new woman into bed for a night. He did his laundry and shopping on a catch-as-catch-can basis and cleaned his apartment in hurry-up style just before the occasional “stop by” from an old girlfriend.

Of course, his mother did visit once a week to cook for her “boy” and “tidy up a bit.” Once, Andreas told her it wasn’t necessary, and she asked why he didn’t love her any more. So, Thursday afternoons the apartment was his mother’s. He tried getting home at least in time to say hello, but many times couldn’t. She didn’t seem to mind; said she just liked knowing she still could help her boy. She always cooked and left him far more than he could eat, something for which his next-door neighbors were eternally grateful.

The apartment didn’t have much of a view, but not many did in this neighborhood. At least not any a cop could afford. But he liked it here, even when the elevator wasn’t working. The four flights helped keep him in shape, and his commute was only 25 minutes in traffic or a brisk walk and two stops on the metro.

Pangrati was a neighborhood by Pangratiou Park filled with old five-story apartment buildings “south of the Hilton,” as the locals would say. These days, new locals likely were students and other young people preferring the more spacious feeling of Pangrati to other better-priced but “more populated than Tokyo” areas at the heart of Athens. There also was the charm of its trolleys, electrified yellow-orange buses running into Athens; and a walk to Kolonaki, with its fancy bars and shops, or to Syndagma, Athens’ central square and the home of Greece’s Parliament, took only fifteen minutes. The home of Lila Vardi, and a completely different world, was even closer.

Andreas rolled onto his back and thought of Anna. Not of wanting her but of how stupid he’d been. He meant to call her about Demosthenes but decided he’d better stay away. Any further contact with Anna meant certain suicide for his career and rapacious “like-father-like-son” headlines shaming his family, especially his mother.
Never again
. He’d get Kouros to talk to her; couldn’t risk sending anyone else. Got knows what she might say. He was angry with himself. He knew better: compromise integrity once and cover-up compromises never end. He spun off onto the floor and into his wakeup-workout routine: sit-ups, push-ups, pull-ups, and flexing.

Andreas finished and jumped into the shower. That was where he did some of his best thinking.

There really wasn’t all that much to do in a late-night club early in the morning. Of course, there’s the booze, the drugs, the noise, and the (lingering) hope of getting laid by someone of your preferred sexual orientation, but if you actually wanted to talk to someone, forget about it. Sure, you had the ramblers, philosophers, stoics, Hamlets, and expletive-stringers—yougottabefuckingshittingmemotherfuckermalakia—all willing to share their predawn wisdom, but when you reached the bottom line, the whole scene got old and boring pretty quickly. And when you had to be there every night making nice to everyone…

That was Giorgio’s life. Every night he’d be at his expected position by the front door nodding to his regulars, coddling visiting celebrities, embracing politicians, stroking those who despised other guests; all the while smiling. He ruled every aspect of the madness of the place with the pinpoint red-dot of a silver laser pen never out of his left hand. It demanded and received immediate attention from whomever it summoned. That was how Giorgio kept his sanity: by staying in control and sober. Everybody knew that.

Which was exactly why Andreas was yelling at himself in the shower. “Just how stupid are you? How could you think for a minute that a hooker could walk into his club with two gorillas, take over a table in the VIP section, and Giorgio wouldn’t know exactly what was going on? What are you, Kaldis, a goddamned rookie?”

Andreas finished with a string of more expletives directed at himself and a decision to get the investigation back on track. Enough with this grand conspiracy bullshit. It was a distraction. The murder trail was getting cold. He wondered if that was intentional; the boy’s death simply revenge for the Linardos girl’s humiliation and Marios’ performance a debt owed to the Linardos family repaid by an elegant ruse. Nothing was outside the realm of possibility. He turned off the shower. Back to rule number one:
trust no one
.

***

Everyone in the office knew the Chief was in a foul mood. Even his pencils could tell. He’d already snapped and thrown three against the wall.

“So, what do you think, Yianni, did the bastard set me up? Does Giorgio have video of me with that girl?”

Kouros didn’t say a word. It was the sort of question not looking for an answer.

Snap, BAM
. Another pencil casualty ricocheted off the wall. “Fuck him if he does. It’s not going to change a damn thing. If I find that bastard’s involved in that kid’s murder…” his voice trailed off.

“We do have Sotiris and Anna disappearing through that emergency exit into the parking lot, the one with the painted over security camera.”

Andreas had been ranting uninterrupted for so long he was surprised at hearing another voice. “No way Giorgio didn’t know they went out that door. Opening it must have set off all sorts of alarms.”

“And security running to make sure no one was sneaking in,” added Kouros.

“Yeah, or running out on a check. Bastard.” Andreas drummed his fingers on his desk. “We’ve got to figure out why Giorgio’s involved in all this.”

“Money?”

“Yeah, but whose money? Linardos’? That puts us back where we were before: no proof of anything. And we’d get nowhere going toe-to-toe with Giorgio over this on what we have. Damn, we’ve got to find the link between Giorgio and whoever’s paying. That’s where we
squeeze
.” He clenched his fist.

“Just tell me who, and I’ll start squeezing.”

“Wish I knew.” Andreas drummed his fingers some more. “Any luck with that gay bar?”

Kouros gestured no. “Just like you said, there was nothing in the dumpster when they emptied the garbage, and no one in the bar saw anyone resembling the victim or the two gorillas.”

“So, we have the kid dead in the dumpster, last seen alive in the Angel Club.” He flashed the palms of both hands toward the floor in the Greek manner of cursing the party named. “And, if we believe the girl, they grabbed him in the club’s parking lot. Which explains why the camera was out, so that there’s no direct evidence linking the gorillas to a crime. Just her word.”

“The word of a hooker.”

Andreas didn’t look at him. “Yeah, the word of a hooker.”

“Wonder where they took him between the parking lot and the dumpster?”

Andreas shrugged. “No idea. And unless we catch them, doubt we ever will. All they needed was some private place to—” he didn’t want to think about what they’d done to the boy—“finish him.”

“Could have been anywhere.”

Andreas nodded. “But I doubt it was some random place on the side of a road. This was too well planned. They knew exactly where they were going and what they were doing. Wherever it was, it was worked out ahead of time.”

“Right down to the specific dumpster and time to use it.”

Andreas nodded. “For sure.”

“Yeah, but how could they be sure someone wouldn’t walk out of the bar while they were in the middle of dumping the body?”

“The bar was closed.” Andreas shrugged.

“Yeah, but how could they be sure some customers weren’t still hanging around hoping to get lucky with a late-night quickie out behind the dumpster?”

Andreas shook his head. “Yianni, they’d already dumped the garbage, the place was shut down.”

“Bars always dump garbage while customers still are inside. They get everything ready to close and lock up the moment the last one leaves. Happens all the time. Especially with good payers you don’t want to upset.”

Andreas picked up a pencil and began tapping its eraser end on his desk. “If you’re right, that means someone must have checked to see if there was anyone inside who might come out while they were dumping the body.”

“And since the owner didn’t recognize the two gorillas—”

“Someone else did the checking.” Andreas nodded as he finished Kouros’ sentence. “It’s a long shot, Yianni, but the only one we have. What time does the bar open?”

“Around seven.”

“Great. It’s a date.” Andreas smiled.

Maggie stuck her head in the door. “It’s Lila Vardi on the phone for you.”

Andreas looked at his watch. It was almost noon. “Okay, I’ll take it.”

Kouros shot a look toward Maggie at the door. “Uh, Maggie, let me speak to you for a moment. Outside.” He pushed up from his chair and was out the door in three quick steps, closing the door behind him.

Andreas smiled. Guess he thought I wanted privacy. The phone buzzed, signaling he should pick up the call. Maybe I do.

***

Lila’s first words were, “Did you receive my message?” Andreas replied that he had, but was tied up with work all morning. When he heard, “Even too busy to return my call?” he knew where this was headed. Too many women had said those words to him before, though in a decidedly different context. And, as with the rest of them, she was right. He tried “Sorry,” but that didn’t work. It never did, nor did, “You’re right, I was wrong,” or the old standby, “Honest, there is nothing more important to me than what you have to say, but can we talk about this at a another time?”

So, he wasn’t surprised when thirty minutes later he was sitting in her apartment doing penance.

“…and that’s how I figured it out. They were banished and the boy was murdered because the family didn’t listen!” She sounded as excited as a schoolgirl coming home with straight A’s.

“That’s a great theory but—”

“I know, I know, in ancient Athens they didn’t banish the entire family and certainly would never kill a family member if the banished one didn’t listen, but there were other forms of banishment for actual crimes, ones where the entire family was banished, even the bones of dead family members were dug-up and sent away and—.”

Andreas put up his hand to stop her. “No, that’s not what I was going to say. I congratulate you for figuring it out, I really do, but that’s not the direction this investigation is headed.”

She glared at him. “I wondered why you went from being so aggressive to not caring enough even to call. Someone told you to stop.”

Andreas’ temper flared, but he kept his tone in check. “No, I’m just more interested in catching a killer than playing some rich folks’ parlor game of cops and conspirators.”

She looked down at her hands. “I guess I deserved that.”

He said nothing.

She looked back up at him. “No quarter, huh?”

He still said nothing.

“Fine, you’ll just have to settle for coffee.”

He wondered if he should say what he was thinking.

“Would you like a toast?”

“Mrs. Vardi, I really must leave.”

“Please, I said call me Lila, and you can’t leave now, it’s just not proper to come to someone’s home without even having a coffee.” She smiled.

He’d had enough. “Mrs. Vardi, I have work to do.” He knew he should keep his mouth shut and just leave.

“I insist you stay. At least for coffee.” Her tone was formal.

He stared straight at her. “First you insulted me by suggesting I’m part of some cover-up, and when that didn’t get the reaction you wanted you, lectured me on manners. Don’t know how you were raised, but my parents would call that very bad manners.” His temper was showing, but he no longer cared. “Come to think of it, you probably were raised differently. I guess more along the lines of ancient Athenian traditions, where courtesy was due just to equals, and the servant-class indulged only when absolutely necessary. Perhaps with some simple benevolent gesture, like a coffee and toast with the master.” He stood up. “No need to show me out.”

She locked eyes with him. Slowly, she raised her right hand up toward his face. It was clenched in a fist. He expected her to flash an open palm, the Greek gesture for something a lot worse than “asshole.” Instead, she held her fist in the air, brought the tips of her forefinger and thumb together, then slightly separated them.

“Don’t you think you’ve overreacted just a teeny-tiny bit?” She flicked her fingers rapidly open and shut.

He watched her fingers for a moment, and dropped back down onto the couch across from her.

“Let’s start over again,” she said. “I apologize. I wasn’t suggesting you’re dishonest. I was more angry at the thought that someone had ordered you to stop doing what you knew in your heart was right.”

He swallowed. “I’m sorry too. I get that way when I think people are talking down to me. It comes from a bad experience my father had.” He’d opened up the subject; he might as well finish it. “A minister level member of government from the supposed ‘upper-class’ set up my father—the trusting cop—to take the fall for bribes that went to the minister.”

“I can’t believe he got away with it.”

Andreas shrugged. “My father died soon after the accusations hit the newspapers. The story died with him.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

He appreciated that she didn’t ask for more details, like the tire blowout a year later that sent that minister’s car plunging off a mountain road and him to a nasty, officially ruled accidental death. “Anyway, about this banishment theory, yes, I agree it’s interesting.”

“So, why aren’t you doing something about it?”

He smiled. “Something tells me you’re this way with everyone, and so I shouldn’t take offense.”

She blushed. “Yes, I guess I am.”

“That’s okay, it’s refreshing.”
Why did I say that?
“But to answer your question, I simply don’t have the time right now to pursue it. Perhaps later.”