I saved the matter of the customs officer for the end. "I want to find him, and as quickly as possible. You see, the worst thing about this case is that we don't know what the motive for the murder was and so have to look into every possibility. Petratos and Sovatzis, the transplants and the refrigerator trucks, all the avenues."
"If we ever figure it out, I'll light a candle to the Virgin," he said despairingly.
I found Sotiropoulos in front of my door. "Did you see my report on the news yesterday?"
"Yes," I said drily.
"Just you wait. With a little more investigation, I'll show how the whole Kolakoglou business was a setup."
"I'd like to be there when the girl's father files a suit against you."
"Do you think he'd risk it? He'd have to put her on the stand, and the lawyers would tear her to pieces."
I turned the handle on my door in order to disappear into my office before I threw up, but he took hold of my arm.
"I have something else for you."
"What is it?"
He leaned toward my ear and whispered confidentially: "Delopoulos sacked Petratos last night."
"I've heard that before."
"This time it's certain. Tomorrow or the day after, the bomb will go off. You're the first to learn about it."
"And why are you so pleased this time?"
"Because he'll come knocking on the door of our channel, and I'll make sure he doesn't get in."
I was about to shut the door in his face when I saw Sotiris coming. "Sorry, but I have work to do," I said curtly.
"I've found Hourdakis," Sotiris said when we were alone. "He has a farm in Milessi."
"Where's Milessi?"
"Just beyond Malakassa. On the road you turn down to go to Oropos."
"Well done. Get ready and we'll be off."
He looked at me surprised. "Don't you want me to have him brought here?"
"No, I would rather that we go and find him." A little country air would do me good.
After we'd passed Filothei, the traffic on Kifissias Avenue thinned out and we were in Kifissia in less than half an hour. But just as we turned down from Nea Erythraia to get onto the motorway, the heavens opened and the rain came down cats and dogs. Fortunately, there was no traffic on the motorway and even though I didn't go over 60 kph, we soon arrived at Malakassa. The village was deserted, not a soul on the streets. I stopped in front of the police station and sent Sotiris in to ask if they knew the farm where Hourdakis lived. While I was waiting for him, I rolled down the window to inhale the smell of the wet pine, but the rain drenched my sleeve. I rolled up the window, cursing.
Sotiris came back on the double and jumped into the car. They didn't know where Hourdakis lived and advised us to ask at the kiosk when we got to Milessi. Why hadn't I thought of that? In Greece, whatever the police don't know you can find out by asking the kiosk vendors.
The road to Milessi was deserted. The plain stretched out to the right. On the left was the abandoned army camp of Malakassa, gradually going to ruin. Two kilometers farther on, the plain ended and we entered a pine forest. The rain had lost its force and was now falling slowly, tiredly. The road began to wind downward. As we rounded a corner, we found the kiosk in front of us, next to the bus stop. The vendor pointed out a narrow dirt track. The Mirafiori kept getting stuck in the mud. I would have to come back in reverse.
At the end of the track, to our left, an enormous farm came into view, reaching up the hillside and most likely stretching as far back as the Oropos road. The house stood out in the distance. It was a big three-story building. It was as if they'd uprooted a tower from the Mani and planted it in Milessi.
"Are we going in?" Sotoris said, when he'd recovered from his surprise.
"Why? To ask why he was always on duty when the Transpilar refrigerator trucks arrived at the border? His house says it all. Now you see why I wanted us to come here, to see what kind of house he lives in.
Sotiris looked at me without saying anything. I released the brake and began going back in reverse. A little farther and we got stuck in the mud. Sotiris got out to push. As I was stepping on the gas and Sotiris was pushing from the hood, one of the windows in Hourdakis's house opened and a woman leaned out. She remained there at the window, looking at the pickle we were in.
"Tomorrow, you're going to go through the whole of Hourdakis's family tree," I said to Sotiris, when, after much ado, we were back to the kiosk. "Himself, his wife, his children if he has any, his parents if they're still living. You'll ask for approval from the public prosecutor to look into the bank accounts of the whole family. I want to know what amounts went into the accounts, when, and who deposited them. We'll talk to him as soon as we're ready to stand him up against the wall." I had learned my lesson with Petratos. I didn't want to come anywhere near Hourdakis before I had first collected enough evidence.
The rain had stopped. When we were again passing through the pine forest, I opened the window and breathed in the scented air in order to clear my lungs.
CHAPTER 34
The next morning, I arrived half an hour earlier at the office, at eight-thirty, and went straight down to the records department in the basement.
"Your ears must have been burning," Yannis told me as soon as he saw me. "I was just getting ready to call you."
"Any luck?"
"I went through the lists one by one. No one has asked for those files from the day they came down to the records department. I can vouch for that."
"Thanks, Yannis."
So whoever had photocopied the reports and given them to Karayoryi had done it while they were still in the office, before they went down to records. That meant that someone in the division was making a bit on the side by selling departmental documents. I felt a tightening in my stomach. The files stayed in the office for up to six months. During that time, anyone could take a file from the cupboard, photocopy what they wanted, and put it back in its place. There was no way to find out who was doing the dirty on us.
As I came out into the hall, I saw a girl waiting for me outside the door of my office. She had blond hair tied in a ponytail. She was wearing flat shoes, and she must have been as tall as me, around five ten. She was wearing a black leather jacket, expensive, and a miniskirt, sparingly cut, as it barely covered her behind. From below the skirt streamed a pair of legs like the stems of tall crystal glasses. As I got closer to her, I saw that she couldn't have been more than twenty-five.
"Are you Inspector Haritos?" she asked me.
"Yes.'
She was without any makeup, had blue eyes and a cold expression, which made me feel uncomfortable.
"I'm Nena Delopoulou, Kyriakos Delopoulos's daughter. I need to talk to you"
I'd heard that Delopoulos had a daughter, but I never imagined she would be such a dazzling bit of skirt. "Come in," I told her and opened my door, wondering why she'd cut short her beauty sleep.
She sat in the chair and crossed her legs. Her miniskirt slid upward, offering me a view of her thighs right up to her panties, which were white and shone through her black tights. I crossed my legs too, not in imitation, but to prevent an erection. I leaned back in my chair to appear relaxed, though I wasn't at all.
"So what's it about?"
"Nestor Petratos told me that you saw his car close to Martha Kostarakou's house and that you suspect him of two murders."
"We simply asked him for an explanation," I said cautiously. "If we suspected him, we'd be holding him in custody."
"Nestor was with me on the evening that Martha Kostarakou was murdered. Between about five-thirty and seven-thirty." She looked at me and added with a touch of irony: "He was with me the whole time. I'm telling you this so that you'll leave him alone."
So this was the woman friend that Petratos had been protecting, and why he wouldn't tell us her name.