Sons of Sparta: A Chief Inspector Andreas Kaldis Mystery (12 page)

Panos laughed. “Just tell me what you want to know.”

Kouros stared straight into Panos’ eyes. “Was my uncle screwing Stella?”

Panos smiled. “I sure as hell hope so.”

“That’s not a helpful answer.”

“How about, ‘With all that he did for her I sure hope she at least gave him a hand-job.’”

“You’re still not helping. Let’s go at this a different way. Just what did he do for her?”

“Scared off the immigration guy.”

Kouros shook his head. “Time for me to become that pain in the ass I promised. We both know that was a full of shit hustle he ran on her just to get in her pants.”

Panos looked away. “I wouldn’t know anything about that.”

“Why do I get the impression you’re fucking with me?”

Kouros watched Panos’ face redden. “Be careful what you say.”

“Then be honest in what you say.”

“Are you calling me a liar?”

Kouros leaned in, “Since I’m not in the hospitality business, in a word,
yes
.”

Panos glared at Kouros. Then smiled. “So you know about the port police cop from Gytheio?”

Kouros nodded. “And?”

“And what?”

“Stop making me pull teeth here, Panos.”

“The residency card?”

“Bingo, we have a winner.”

“I go back to my original question, ‘Was my uncle screwing, Stella?’”

“Only a few times. That I know of.”

“How would you know?”

“He used my hotel. He’d bring her here when Babis was away.”

“Away?”

“Athens, wherever.”

“How often was he away?”

“Not enough for your uncle.” Panos smiled. “Maybe once, twice a month.”

“How did you find out about the port police cop and the residency card?”

“Your uncle told me. He knew I’d find out about him and Stella using my hotel and didn’t want me talking to the guys about it. So, on the condition I’d keep it just between us, he told me about the song and dance he’d arranged to put on at the taverna to get Stella her card.”

“And now for the big question. Did Babis have any idea my uncle was screwing her?”

“Why? Do you think his death wasn’t an accident?”

“The rules are that I ask the questions and you give the answers.”

Panos bit at his lower lip. “I don’t know.”

“Does that mean maybe?”

Panos shrugged.

“Aside from my uncle, Stella, and you, who else knew they were screwing?”

“No one, unless somebody saw them going into a room together. Or coming out.”

Again Kouros leaned in. “Or maybe you told somebody?”

Panos’ eyes fixed on Kouros’. “I told no one. I kept my word to your uncle.”

Kouros shook his head. “Sure sounds to me that if Babis found out about them screwing around in your hotel, it likely came through you.”

Panos glared.

“You know, maybe you drank a bit too much one morning in the taverna, decided to tease my uncle, said something about Stella that Babis overheard?”

“As I said before, I never said a word to anyone, including your uncle, about the two of them. It was forbidden to talk about, let alone joke.”

“So you tried?”

“No. I knew your uncle all my life. I knew what I could joke about and what I couldn’t. This definitely wasn’t a subject to raise with him. And so I didn’t. Period. End of story,
Detective
.”

If only it were
.

Chapter Thirteen

Kouros left his car at the hotel and walked into the port. He hadn’t been in Gerolimenos in years and wondered if that crazy priest with the long black hair, jeans, and dirty cowboy boots still hung around the harbor. Kouros was never actually sure he was a priest, even though he wore the cassock. And considering the colorful history of priests fighting alongside the Mani’s bandits and pirates, he wouldn’t be surprised at anything.

He stopped at the southern edge of the harbor next to a lone pay phone. It had no handset, the same as the last time he’d been here. In this day of mobile phones no one probably noticed. Certainly never complained. This village always struck him as a combination of traditional Greece and the American Wild West. The harbor scene was quintessential, old-time, tiny Greek fishing village taken to perfection. But behind the busy row of harbor-front buildings stood a single row of open spaces and tired, nondescript two-story homes bearing no resemblance whatsoever to the quaint images portrayed one street over. It made him think of the false-front towns used in making old-time American cowboy movies.

His phone rang. “Yes, Chief.”

“I thought you were going to call me back?” said Andreas.

“Just finished an interview with the owner of the hotel where my uncle was screwing Babis’ Stella.”

“Then you’ll love what I have for you. I just read our tech guys’ final take on the autopsy report. Your uncle definitely was poisoned, but they’re still not sure how. The only new information they thought might be relevant was a bruise on your uncle’s body containing traces of wax.”

“Wax? What’s wax got to do with anything?”

“For that I have to thank Tassaki.”

“Huh?”

“The other night we were playing with finger paints and I remembered Tassaki kept coating his fingertips with paints. That got me to thinking. If you’re a killer looking to administer a poison lethal to the touch in front of a lot of people, you have two primary concerns. One, doing it in a way that doesn’t get you noticed, and two, not killing yourself in the process. Since this hit happened in a taverna, it wouldn’t be a big deal to melt some wax in the kitchen and dip your finger in it before touching the poison. Especially if it’s your kitchen.”

“Sounds like something out of a BBC mystery.”

“I know. But I went online and you’ll never guess what I came up with. Applying wax to a fingertip was an ancient ninja method used for administering poison through a finger thrust to a penetration point. The question is, how was our killer able to get to your uncle and apply that sort of force in a crowded taverna without anyone noticing?”

“Where was the bruise with the wax?” said Kouros.

“On the side of his neck by the carotid artery.”

“Jesus, Chief. Babis must be our man. This morning I saw him slapping backs and squeezing necks as his customers were leaving. It was his style. No one would have noticed.”

“But the jealousy angle doesn’t tie in to your uncle’s death threats.”

“Yeah, I know. But Babis is all we’ve got, and maybe once we start squeezing him we’ll get an answer that makes sense of it all.”

“Okay. Bring him in.”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“Be careful. I don’t want you going after him without backup. If he’s our killer, he’ll know he’s facing prison.”

“If he did it, once my cousins find out, he’s a dead man. In or out of prison.”

“Not our problem. We just solve the cases and let the justice system run its course.”

“That’s comforting.”

“No, it’s Greece.”

***

The lights flashing, siren blaring, the blue-and-white police car streaking through Vathia on its way to the taverna created precisely the sort of bravado entrance Kouros told the local cops to avoid. He’d hoped to get Babis safely away from the Mani before his cousins learned of Babis’ arrest. No way they’d think he’d been busted for overcooking the
spanakopita
. Kouros’ hopes on that score vanished when Mangas pulled up to the taverna seconds behind the police car.

Kouros stared at a pair of Laurel and Hardy look-alike cops walking toward him, followed by Mangas. “Why didn’t you two
malakas
offer to give Mangas a ride when you told him I needed help with an arrest?”

The fat cop shrugged. “We’re family here. We take care of each other.”

“Forget about them,” said Mangas. “What did you find out?”

“I want to take Babis in for questioning.”

Mangas stared at Kouros. “I’ll take care of the questioning.”

Kouros stared back. “No, you won’t.”

Mangas clenched and unclenched his fists. “I’m not going to let him get away with murdering my father.”

“Nor am I. If he did. But we don’t know that. We just have questions.” Lying seemed appropriate under these circumstances, as the truth would lead to Babis’ immediate demise.

“If you’re lying to me…” Mangas let his words trail off.

Kouros nodded. “Let me handle this. With the help of Mani’s finest.”

The two cops looked at Mangas. He nodded. “But I’ll be out here just hoping the son of a bitch makes a run for it.”

Kouros nodded. “If he runs he’s all yours.” That sounded like a perfect argument for convincing Babis it would be in his decided best interest to come quietly.

Kouros didn’t expect many customers at this hour and the lone motorbike parked outside the kitchen entrance had him hoping they’d be alone for the arrest. Kouros held his gun in his hand as the three cops walked through the front door, Kouros first. He stood in the front room and listened. Not a sound. He walked toward the kitchen, and stood in the doorway. Still no sound. He motioned toward a door at the rear of the kitchen and the three cops spread out and crept toward the door. As soon as the two cops were in position on either side of the door, in one swift move Kouros grabbed the doorknob, turned it, and pushed the door open into the room.

The room smelled of onions and dill, and a bit of light from a tiny window shined down on an array of vegetables and a half-naked body on a cot. A female body.

Stella jumped up, her bare breasts moving slightly slower than the rest of her body, but catching up in time for Kouros and the two cops to realize her butt was not her only perfect quality. “
What are you doing here
?” she screamed, not making any attempt to cover up.

“Sorry, Stella,” said Kouros, moving his eyes with a struggle up to meet hers. “We’re looking for Babis.”

“With those?” She pointed at the guns.

The fat cop made no effort to take his eyes off her breasts. “Just tell us where he is.”

“I don’t know.”

Kouros shook his head. “Get dressed. You’re coming with us.”

“But I’ve done nothing.”

“Sorry, but you still have to come with us.”

“Maybe he’s at Cape Tenaro,” she said.

“Why would he be there?” said Kouros.

“He goes fishing there sometimes in the afternoons.”

“In a boat?”

She took her time putting on her bra. Something every male eye in the room followed with exacting attention to detail. “No. He fishes off the shore.”

Kouros said to the two cops, “Take her back to the station. And hold her until I get there.”

The thin guy grabbed Stella’s arm before she could put on the rest of her clothes and started dragging her out the door in her bra and panties.

Kouros grabbed the man’s arm and squeezed. “Don’t even think what you’re thinking. That is unless you and your fat fuck of a partner want to know how vengeful this Maniot can be.”

He looked at Stella. “Now get dressed. And fast.” He walked back into the kitchen and through the kitchen door leading to the outside. His cousin stood leaning against the hood of his car, talking on his mobile. He gestured for Kouros to come closer as he shouted into the phone, “And don’t hurt him, I promised my cousin.” He hung up.

Kouros shook his head. “Does that mean what I think it means?”

“If you mean did I find him, no. But I told my friends to search every inch of Cape Tenaro until they do.”

“How did…?”

Mangas smiled. “I said I’d stay out here, but nothing about not listening in. I heard everything through that.” He pointed at the tiny storeroom window.

“I hope you meant what you said about not hurting him.”

Mangas smiled. “I would no more lie to you, cousin, than you would to me.” He patted Kouros on the back. “Smile, you will soon have your answers.” Mangas dropped his hand, and the smile left his face.

“And when you do, I shall have my vengeance. So help me, God.”

***

The phenomenon known as Cape Tenaro drew both locals and tourists to its shores, the former for its fishing and coves, the latter for what the merger of the Ionian and Aegean Seas represented to the civilized world. Those two great bodies of water once stood as stages for antiquity’s greatest dramas, upon which ancient gods came to be and battled, loved, and died, and Homer’s Odysseus spent much of his odyssey. More than seas, today they serve as living links to modern civilization’s classic past, joined together at a desolate spot two hundred miles across open seas from the cradle of man’s existence, Africa.

Kouros followed along behind his cousin’s car as they drove toward Cape Tenaro. Kouros looked at his watch. Sunset was closing in but it made no sense for him to join in the search, and the likelihood of getting any timely help out of Athens on a hunt of this sort was virtually nil. Kouros knew his best bet was to stay close to his cousin, prepared to remind him of his promise to bring Babis in alive should one of Mangas’ dozens of “friends” scouring the coastline happen to find him. He looked left, down to the Gulf of Laconia and the lapis and emerald seas running up against the white sands of the Greek mainland’s southernmost natural harbor. Porto Kayio was named after the once limitless flocks of quail passing through the Deep Mani each September.

Kouros’ daydreaming abruptly ended when Mangas slammed on his brakes, forcing Kouros to swerve around him and nearly launch an airborne entrance onto the beach he’d been so fondly admiring below. Mangas pulled off the road. Kouros drew up next to him, rolled down his passenger side window, and yelled, “What the fuck’s wrong with you?”

Mangas jumped out of his car and leaned in through the passenger window holding his phone up to Kouros’ face. “I want you to hear this straight from the source.”

Mangas pressed a button. “You’re on speakerphone. Repeat exactly what you told me to my cousin.”

A voice came over the phone. “Like I said, we found him on the way out to the entrance to Hades. The son of a bitch sure was headed in the right direction.” The voice laughed.

“You’re not to harm him,” said Kouros.

“Little late for that,” said Mangas.

The voice over the phone said, “He was dead when we got here. He’d tied one end of a rope around his neck, the other around a boulder, and when the boulder went into the water he went in behind it. It’s not that deep where we found him, but deep enough to do it if you have a rock tied around your neck.”

“I don’t want them touching a thing,” said Kouros.

“Did you hear that?” said Mangas.

“Yes.”

“Good, then don’t. We’ll be right there and whatever my cousin says goes. Understand?”

“Yes.”

Mangas turned off the phone. “I hope you realize I had nothing to do with this.”

“Somehow I think that if you were involved, Babis wouldn’t be floating around in shallow water complicating your life. And he certainly wouldn’t have been discovered by one of your friends.”

“Or by anyone. At least not in recognizable pieces.”

Kouros shook his head. “Who do you think did it?”

“I know this sounds crazy, but it sounds like suicide. More people than you’d think who live by the sea and want to end it use the ‘rock and rope’ method.”

“But why would he kill himself?”

“You were all over him. He had to know it. And if you were all over him, that meant I wouldn’t be far behind. And I can assure you he knew that if I got ahold of him his death would not be a quick and peaceful drowning.”

Kouros nodded. “Could be that you’re right.”

“Let’s hope so.”

“What does that mean?”

“Because the dying will end with him. I’m really not all that different from my father. I see no need for vendetta once the problem is solved. If he killed my father and did it alone it will end with him. His family is spared.” He smiled. “Including his young lady.”

“Stella?”

“Who else? Hope she decides to hang around and run the taverna. She’ll draw a hell of a lot more business than that nasty-minded motherfucker of a boyfriend ever did. She might even get you back here to visit more often.” Mangas smacked Kouros on the arm.

Kouros reached for his phone. “I’ve got to get police out to where your friends found Babis’ body.”

Mangas smiled. “Don’t worry. That’s who you were talking to, our local chief of police.”

“Fuck,” said Kouros.

This time Mangas reached over and patted Kouros on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, cuz. You’ll see. He did it to himself.”

Don’t we all
, thought Kouros.

***

Kouros found Babis’ car parked along a ridge overlooking the sea a hundred yards from the remains of a Spartan temple to the god Poseidon, and a mile away from the lighthouse marking the literal end of mainland Europe. A police van sat behind Babis’ car. A small crowd had gathered but the local police kept them away from the immediate vicinity of the car. Obviously, the police chief took Mangas’ instructions seriously. Kouros’ check of the car showed no signs of a struggle or anything suspicious.

“Are you ready?” said Mangas.

“For what?”

Mangas nodded. “The cave’s that way.” He pointed at a sign and the bay beyond the temple.

Kouros followed his cousin down a narrow rocky path through prickly brush to a small cove, across a beach, and up onto a similar path leading south. Halfway to the entrance to Hades they saw two cops and two men with a stretcher on rocks down by the sea.

They left the path and began making their way down to the others.

“Someday, I want you to tell me how you figured out it wasn’t an accident, and that Babis killed my father.”