“And next time I’ll bring Lila.”
“Give her my love.”
They all blew kisses to Tassos and left.
As they walked up the hall Andreas said, “He looks better than I thought.”
“You really perked him up.”
Andreas nodded. They walked through the swinging doors, headed toward the dressing room, when a man hurried out of the dressing room. He didn’t bother holding the door open for them.
Malaka, thought Andreas. As he reached for the door handle one word raced through his mind: flowers.
He swung around looking for the man. “Yianni that’s the guy from the elevator with the flowers. Get Maggie back to Tassos’ room and don’t let anyone near that dressing room. Keep everyone away. It could be a bomb.”
Andreas ran down the hall to the elevators and asked the cop, “Did a tall guy just get on the elevator?”
The cop gestured no.
“Get down inside that burn unit, last room on the right, and ask Detective Kouros for instructions. And hurry.”
The cop ran down the hall.
Andreas thought, if he didn’t take the elevator…the stairs! Andreas ran back down the hall and stopped twenty feet before the burn unit at a door on the left marked STAIRS.
He opened the door. No one was inside and he heard no one on the stairs. Up or down, which way did he go? Andreas bolted down ten steps and stopped.
If it’s a bomb, how would he know when to set it off unless he knew we were inside the dressing room? For that he’d need a visual on us.
Andreas raced back up the steps and slowly pushed open the door. He peeked across the hallway. The man needed a visual on the room…a visual on the room. There it was. A linen closet across the hall.
Andreas carefully slipped out into the corridor making sure the door made no sound as it closed. He crossed quickly to the far wall and hugged it as he moved toward the linen closet with his gun in his left hand.
Please, God, don’t let him have a deadman switch on that detonator. He looked at the hinged, far side of the door. It angled in a bit, enough to mean the door was open slightly on the side closest to Andreas.
Andreas crossed himself with his right hand, edged up flush with the doorjamb, and kicked at the bottom of the door two feet up from the floor with enough force to send a soccer ball sixty yards.
He heard the grunt before he saw the man stumbling backward toward the rear of the closet, a cellphone in his hand. Andreas stuck his gun between the man’s eyes and with his free hand motioned for the phone. The man winced and handed Andreas the phone.
Andreas had cuffed him by the time Kouros found them in the closet.
“The bomb squad is on the way.”
“Who’s with Tassos?”
“The cop from the elevator. I told him to shoot anyone he doesn’t recognize trying to get into Tassos’ room.”
“Do you know this guy?” Andreas grabbed the man by his hair and lifted up his head.
“Yeah…from the video. He’s the tall one of the two who murdered Christos. Where’s your buddy, asshole?”
“You’re wasting your time. He doesn’t speak Greek. That’s why he didn’t give me his floor number on the elevator when I asked for it.”
“Lucky break for us that you remembered.”
“Tell me about it.” Andreas crossed himself. “Get someone over here who speaks Polish. I want to know where his buddy is. And how he knew we’d be here this morning.”
“He won’t talk,” said Kouros.
“Just make sure the interpreter doesn’t have a queasy stomach.”
Andreas patted the man’s cheeks. “A man who was about to blow up a hospital filled with sick and injured people will talk. Believe me, he’ll talk.”
***
Sergey looked at his watch. He should have heard by now. Tassos Stamatos’ girlfriend always was at the hospital by now. All the man had to do was get close enough to her to leave the flowers, blow her away, and get out in the confusion.
Then her cop friends would know he meant business.
He’d better not have fucked things up.
Sergey looked at his watch again.
At worst, there was the back-up plan.
Chapter Thirty-one
The interpreter was a slight, dark-haired, blue-eyed, policewoman in her early twenties. Kouros told Andreas she could be trusted. “She wants to be one of us.”
The woman smiled. “The name is Petrova. An honor to meet you, Chief.”
Andreas nodded. “It’s important that the subject understands things will get very nasty very quickly if he doesn’t cooperate.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve studied acting and love all the Dirty Harry movies.”
Andreas looked at Kouros, leaned in toward his ear, and whispered, “Is she by any chance your ‘cop friend’ from last night?”
Kouros smiled at Petrova and Andreas had his answer.
“She’s totally fluent in Polish, Chief.”
Andreas smiled. “Good, let’s go inside.”
Inside was an operating room. Two cops were standing on either side of an operating table. Between them and strapped to the table, naked but for a surgical gown, was the attempted bomber.
Andreas told the two cops to leave and not let anyone in. “No matter what you hear coming from inside.” He waited until they left, and nodded to Petrova.
“Well, my friend, you have finally reached the end of the road. Welcome to Greek justice,” said Andreas.
Petrova translated.
The man laughed, spit at her, and said in Polish, “You are a woman talking for a man. Why should I listen to you?”
Petrova translated his words and as she finished reached down under the man’s gown, grabbed his testicles, and squeezed until he screamed. She kept squeezing as she said. “Either answer or I’ll pull your useless balls right off you.”
Still squeezing, Petrova repeated her comment in Greek for Andreas and Kouros, punctuating it with a hard yank on the man’s testicles before letting go.
Andreas looked at Kouros. “My compliments. A fine choice.”
Kouros smiled.
“So, shall we continue, numb nuts?” Andreas smiled.
Kouros shook his head and Petrova laughed as she translated.
The man said nothing.
“Good, now that you understand how very serious we are, I have a few questions for you.”
“I want a lawyer.”
“Request denied.”
“I’m not talking.”
“Permit me to explain the ground rules. You came into a hospital planning to kill innocent people. You’re also caught on video as one of the killers of a well-loved man on Mykonos, and if you happen to be the lucky one the victim’s dog got a piece of, your DNA is all over a murder scene. Any way you look at it, you’re in prison for the rest of your life.”
“So why should I talk?”
“You want to make a deal?”
“It depends,” said the man.
“On what?”
“On what you’re offering.”
Andreas shook his head. “Now that you’ve established that you’re willing to talk and the only question is price, let me explain the deal I’m willing to make.”
Andreas walked over to the table and patted the man on his shoulder. “Like I said, you’re off to prison for the rest of your life. The question is whether you’ll be able to walk, or see, or piss with your own dick during your remaining years.”
Andreas stepped to where the man could see Andreas’ eyes. He spoke slowly, allowing Petrova to translate as he did. “You tried to kill someone I consider family. So I don’t care what it takes to get you to tell me what I need to know to protect her and the rest of my family. If you live or if you die is not of my concern. Only yours.” Andreas held up his right hand and Kouros slapped a scalpel flat against his palm.
“So, shall we begin by removing your nose?”
Andreas swung the scalpel down and across the man’s face narrowly missing the tip of his nose.
The man jerked back violently trying to pull free of the restraints. “You’re crazy.”
Andreas nodded. “Very.”