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Andreas looked at his watch; four minutes had passed. He smiled at the secretary.

'Let me show you into Mr Linardos' office.' Obviously, she wanted nothing more to do with them.

Andreas always was amazed at how elegant an office could be. Then again, most cops were from the gypsy school of interior decorating: whatever worked and was portable was fine. From the paintings, sculptures, antique French furniture, inlaid woods, and Oriental carpets in this one, it looked nothing like a working office. More like a five-hundred-square-foot throne room for holding court.

When they entered the office, the king was not on his throne, at least not any they could see.

'Please, sit here.' The secretary pointed to a pair of matching, tapestry-covered chairs in front of an ornately carved, gold-trimmed desk. 'I'm sure Mr Linardos will be right with you.'

There was the sound of a flushing toilet. The secretary looked uncomfortable. 'That's okay, we'll wait for him here,' said Andreas facing the desk from the rear of the room.

The desk was in front of a bank of windows, with more windows running along the length of the wall to Andreas' right. Bookshelves lined the wall facing the desk. On the wall to Andreas' left, between the door through which they'd entered and another door on the same wall closer to the desk, were three paintings Andreas knew he should recognize. Conspicuously absent were photographs of the rich and famous. Then again, Linardos had no reason to impress a visitor with whom he knew. He knew everyone who mattered, and anyone coming here already knew that. The only photographs were of his family, and they stood in silver frames on a small table between his desk and the second door.

No one moved. They just waited for that second door to open. Two more minutes passed before it did.

'Sorry, gentlemen.' Sarantis Linardos nodded to his secretary who immediately turned and left, then he shook hands with both men, pointed for them to sit where his secretary had suggested, and went to sit across from them behind his desk.

'So, what can I do for you?' He was smiling and pleasant.

Andreas used his most official-sounding, courteous voice. 'Mr Linardos, I can't thank you enough for agreeing to see us unannounced. I apologize for such an intrusion, but we're hoping you might be able to help us with a rather delicate matter.'

'If I can, certainly.'

'Thank you.'

'I'm certain you're aware of the Kostopoulos murder.'

He nodded. 'Yes, I am. Terrible, terrible tragedy.'

'I know that you and the father were involved in business dispute-'

Linardos cut him off. 'Yes, we were.' He was still smiling.

'I was wondering if, in the course of your dealings, you heard of anyone who might harbor such anger toward him to do such a thing?'

'I'm sorry, "do such a thing?" I thought this was a gay-bashing murder or lovers' quarrel or something like that.'

'That's the delicate part, sir. It looks to have been a premeditated murder made to look like what you described.'

'That's horrible.' He blinked rapidly three times. 'How can you be sure?'

'Forensics.'

'But why would anyone do that sort of thing to an innocent child?'

'Don't know. That's why we're here. We were hoping you might have some idea who would. After all, the father was aggressive in his business tactics. I'm sure I don't have to tell you that.' Andreas paused, but Linardos said nothing. 'So, I was wondering if, possibly, in defending against what he was doing to you, you might have come across information on other victims.'

'Victims?' Linardos' voice almost cracked.

'Of Kostopoulos' business tactics. Someone so upset with what he'd done to them, or tried to do, that they might be willing to kill his child for revenge.'

His smile was gone. 'I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I cannot help you. Those are not types of people I would know.'

'No, I don't mean the ones who actually did the murder, I mean someone so angry with the father that he would resort to murder.' He wondered if he should say more. 'Perhaps, to send a message?'

Linardos paused. Andreas wasn't sure if it was to think or explode.

'No, sir, I'm afraid, I know of no such persons. I wish I could help but I can't. If you think my lawyers might have come across that sort of information, I'll be more than happy to arrange for you to speak with them.' Linardos stood up, a clear signal the audience was over.

'Thank you, sir, that would be very helpful.' Andreas and Kouros rose.

Linardos leaned across the desk to shake hands and say goodbye. He did not show them out. Andreas opened the door leading out of the office and allowed Kouros to pass through it first. Just as Andreas was closing it, he heard the bathroom door open. He doubted the problem was Linardos' prostate. 'He didn't even ask to see an ID!' Kouros almost was shouting. 'I mean, we could have been anyone.'

Andreas smiled. 'I guess he figured from the way we looked we couldn't be anything but cops.'

Kouros turned his head and stared at Andreas.

'Hey, Yianni, watch where you're driving.'

'You know he's hiding something.' He looked back at the road.

'Yeah, no doubt about it.' Andreas scratched the top of his head with his right hand. 'I got more than I expected. I pushed him to where I expected to hear "Who do you think you're talking to?" but he let it all pass.'

'We spent more time listening to him piss than talk.'

Andreas grinned. 'That told us a lot more about him than anything he said. The guy was nervous.'

'A lot of people get nervous around us.'

Andreas shook his head. 'Yeah, but not Linardos. He knows our boss. He knows everyone's boss.'

'So, what's he hiding?'

'Don't know yet. But he's definitely involved somehow. I can't believe that if Marios knew about the banishment thing Greece's most influential newspaper owner wouldn't know about it, too, or at least have heard the rumor. And as far as not knowing anyone who might want to harm Kostopoulos…' Andreas waved his left hand in the air in little circles, 'that would make him just about the only person in Greece who couldn't name at least one.'

'Maybe he's behind the whole thing?'

'Anything is possible, but I'd think whoever is would handle it better. Be cool. After all, getting nervous in front of cops attracts attention, no matter what the reason, and I don't see the guys running this as nervous types. They've been at it too long and too successfully.'

Andreas drummed the fingers of his left hand on the dashboard. 'I think he's more worried about them than us. If they think he's turned on them, he knows they're capable of killing not just him, but his children. That could explain why he wouldn't point a finger at even a publicly declared enemy of Kostopoulos. He's afraid to be seen as cooperating with us one bit.'

'Can't blame him.'

Andreas looked at Kouros. 'What are you saying?'

'He has to protect his family.'

'From us?' Andreas' voice was rising. 'I'm not used to hearing that sort of don't-trust-the-government Greek bullshit from a cop.'

'Come on, Chief, if this is a big-time conspiracy, don't you think Linardos believes whatever he says to us will get back to the bad guys?'

Andreas' temper was rising. 'Yianni-'

Kouros cut him off but his tone was apologetic. 'Chief, you know I'm not saying we're like that, but how does he know to trust us? Virtually everyone in this country thinks everyone in government is corrupt. We know that's not true but, let's be honest, even we're careful about what information we let out of our unit. If he knows how dangerous these guys are, can you really blame him for wanting nothing to do with us?'

This was not a conversation that the chief of a police unit wanted to have with a subordinate, no matter how valid the point might be. 'Let's head on over to the bar.' Andreas said the words without emotion. He wondered if this was how Don Quixote might have felt had he ever accepted that Sancho Panza might be right about the windmill.