"Excuse me a moment," I said to the officer, and I went over to them. They'd taken off their suits and were wearing combat gear: anoraks and pullovers.
"Beaten to it again, Inspector," Petratos said, with an ironic little grin.
I began to bristle, while inside I was cursing Thanassis, who'd screwed everything up again. "What is it with you people? You keep going after a scoop and all you do is make a bloody mess of things!" I shouted.
"What you can't stand, Inspector," the newscaster interrupted, "is that we do our job properly. And instead of thanking us for helping you, all you do is scream at us."
"If Kolakoglou suffers so much as a scratch, I'm taking you both in, you can be sure of that."
"On what charge?" Petratos said, as ironically as ever.
"Don't worry about that. I'll have you for needlessly pushing Kolakoglou to suicide and I'll have you both sent down. If you'd informed us promptly, we'd have waited for him outside the hotel and we'd have nabbed him as soon as he showed himself, without even a nosebleed." I would have gone on, but I was cut short by a heartrending cry.
"Petros, my dearest! Put the gun down! Don't do anything stupid! I won't be able to bear it!"
It was Mrs. Kolakoglou, in her habitual black. Every eye was turned to her. She was being supported by Sotiropoulos. Robespierre's countermove, I thought to myself. Sotiropoulos had brought her to compete with Petratos.
"Please, put the gun down and come down from there! Think of me!"
For the first time, her son showed some sign of movement. He was about to put the gun down, then remembered why he was up there and put it back up to his head. "Go away, Mother. There's no reason for you to be here!" he shouted at the same time.
Sotiropoulos, still holding her, leaned over and said something in her ear. I couldn't hear what he said, but she began screaming again: "Please, my dearest! Please, my darling boy. I know what you've been through, but don't do this. Don't break my heart!"
"Why did you bring her? Get her away from here!" Kolakoglou shouted from above. Evidently he thought that the police had brought her.
The officer in charge took advantage of the opportunity and spoke to him through the bullhorn. "Petros, think of your poor mother! Come down and put an end to this! No one's going to harm you! You have my word!"
"Do you hear, Petros? The officer's given his word that they won't harm you!" his mother shouted with renewed hope.
"I believed them once before and I paid a high price for it!" Kolakoglou held the gun firmly to his head.
"All right, if you don't believe me, tell me what it will take for you to come down from there!" said the officer through the bullhorn.
Kolakoglou didn't answer immediately. He reflected. Meanwhile, I was back next to the officer.
"I want my mother to go away. I want the police to leave the hotel. I want everyone to go. Clear the street of those reporter creeps and the patrol cars. Then I'll come down."
The officer lowered the bullhorn and turned to me. "Tell me what I should do," he said. "I have no reason to arrest him. At most, I could hold him for illegal possession of a firearm. You're the one who's after him-you decide."
I cursed the moment that I'd got mixed up with Kolakoglou. I'd reached the point of feeling sorry for him, the bastard. I was virtually certain that he had no involvement in the case, and yet we were pursuing him as if he were a kingpin.
"Have you cleared the hotel?" I asked the officer.
"Only our own men are still inside."
"Do what he asks." The officer looked at me undecided. He didn't like having to give in, and his expression showed it. "Listen," I said. "Kolakoglou is like a trapped animal. And his mother coming has made it worse. You have no way of knowing if he's going to put a bullet in his head or if he will start shooting anyone in his sight, out of desperation."
The officer didn't reply. He simply handed me the bullhorn. I put it to my mouth. "All right, Kolakoglou. We're going to do what you ask so that you'll come down."
Kolakoglou listened, perfectly still. All other eyes fell on me. That's it, I thought to myself. From now on, I'll be known as the chickenshit inspector who can't take the heat.
"Come on, Mrs. Kolakoglou. Everything's going to be all right," Sotiropoulos said to the mother. Now that everything had been taken care of, he'd lost interest in Mrs. Kolakoglou. He handed her over to a policeman so that he wouldn't miss the rest of the show.
The officer in charge sent a sergeant to get our men out of the hotel. The other policemen began dispersing the reporters, together with the vans and patrol cars.
"You did the right thing," I heard a voice beside me say. I turned around and saw Sotiropoulos. "You know that I don't particularly like you, nor do I particularly trust you. But this time, I have to take my hat off to you. The poor schmuck has already paid in prison, and unjustly; he shouldn't have to pay with his life, too."
I again felt the deprivation of an ex-smoker dying for a drag. "I don't have time for your games, Sotiropoulos," I said, furiously. "And as for liking and trust, the feeling's mutual."
Before I'd finished with Sotiropoulos, I saw Petratos coming toward me. "Are you going to let him get away?" He was huffing and puffing.
"What other choice do I have after you've made such a mess of it?"
"Just as well I thought of bringing his mother, and everything got sorted out," said Sotiropoulos, looking provocatively at Petratos.
I nodded to one of the officers. "Get these two gentlemen out of here!" They exchanged a look and walked off in opposite directions.
One by one, the policemen came out of the hotel. The sergeant was the last out. "No one's left inside," he said to the officer.
I put the bullhorn to my mouth again. "Kolakoglou! They're all gone! You can come down now!"
Kolakoglou leaned over and looked, to make sure I was telling the truth. He began moving backward, still with the gun to his head.
The officer and I stood and waited without speaking. Before long, Kolakoglou appeared at the entrance to the hotel. He was still holding the gun to his head.
"Don't go near him! Let him go!" I shouted to our men through the bullhorn.
Kolakoglou had his back to the wall of the hotel and was looking all around him. He began moving along the wall, turned onto Nirvana Street, and vanished. The policemen were all looking at me. They were evidently waiting for me to make the first move. I did nothing. I remained where I was.
CHAPTER 30
On the way back, the driver of the patrol car changed his route. He turned off of lakovaton Street and drove down Patission Street.
"You tell them that the person you're after frequents a certain bar, and it doesn't occur to them to make inquiries at the nearby hotels," Thanassis said. "The lousiest reporter is better at his job." He was looking at me through the rearview mirror.
"That's what you get when you organize the investigation by phone from your office instead of supervising it personally," I said, and he shut up. I held back on "You're a moron," because I didn't want to embarrass him in front of the driver, his subordinate.
I wondered if I'd done the right thing with Kolakoglou, or if I'd let my belief that he was innocent run away with me. But what else could I have done? After all, there was one positive thing to come out of all that business. It proved that Kolakoglou either didn't have a circle of friends to hide him or that he'd exhausted his limits and had been forced to stay in a hotel under a false name. So now we knew where to look and we'd be able to find him more easily. The only problem was Ghikas. Once again, I'd failed to inform him. I'd done what I'd thought best and I didn't know how he would take it.
The whole way to the traffic light on Alexandras Avenue Thanassis said not a word. "Do you want me to tell you now about Petratos?" he said as we were passing the Pedio to Areos Park.