“Ask.”
“It is a simple question.”
Sergey blinked. “Please, just ask it.”
Teacher moved her face close to his. “Remember when you told me, ‘Lefteris’ eyes popped wide open when I gave him our offer’?”
“Yes.”
“Did you ever tell Wacki how much you were paying Lefteris for the hotel?”
Sergey paused. “Why are you asking that?”
“Please, just answer the question.”
“As best as I can remember, no.”
“You mean there’s a chance you told him?”
“No, I’m certain I didn’t.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because the price I offered Lefteris was the price he accepted. We never had any conversation about price. I simply handed him a piece of paper with my offer on it and he accepted it.”
“Did Lefteris tell anyone?”
“Not that I know of. In fact, he told me he didn’t want anyone to know the price.”
“What about the ministry of tourism?”
“Well, yes, he had to inform them.”
“And what price did he tell them?”
“The one we agreed upon. The one you told me to offer.”
Teacher leaned back. “Good.”
Teacher stood up. “Sergey, please help me to the upper deck. I’ve arranged a wonderful celebratory dinner for the three of us, sailing around this beautiful island in the moonlight.”
“Sounds delightful,” said Sergey taking Teacher’s arm.
She nodded to a man dressed all in white standing at attention at the rear of the salon. He spoke into a communicator, the engines roared to life, the lines were undone, the anchor came up, and the boat was away.
Chapter Thirty-two
Maggie dropped into bed exhausted. I’m getting too old for this craziness, she thought. Her next thought was of tomorrow, and she was asleep in minutes.
The window at the rear of Maggie’s first floor apartment in the working class Pangrati section of Athens wasn’t completely closed. A screen kept the neighborhood cats out, but not the breezes that made Athens’ summer nights bearable.
The man was very quiet, very professional. He took his time removing the screen and carefully lifted the window without a sound. He slid inside like a predator who’d done this a thousand times before.
The apartment was dark. He listened for a sound. Nothing. He knew the woman was here. He’d seen her come in an hour and a half ago. The lights had been out for over an hour. She had to be asleep. He moved on his toes, making not a sound.
The bedroom must be straight ahead. The door was closed. He listened. He heard nothing. He pressed softly against the door. It moved without a sound. The room was filled with moonlight. There was a body in the bed, red hair on the pillow.
He took the stiletto from his pants pocket, silently flicked it open, quickly stepped across the room, and drove the blade into the woman’s neck. Three times, quickly. Each time expecting something that did not happen.
A light went on as a closet door opened by the foot of the bed and a man in a dress said, “Surprise!”
The killer lunged at the vision, slashing away at it with his knife.
Or at least he tried to.
When the attacker woke up several hours later, he had two broken knee caps, a compound fracture of his right wrist, four broken ribs, a broken nose, broken jaw, fractured cheekbone, and double hernia.
When Maggie Sikestes woke up the next morning in her boss’ guest bedroom, detective Yianni Kouros promptly apologized for the bloodstains on the dress he’d borrowed from her. He also thanked her for providing him with the opportunity for some of the most fun he’d had in years, plus credit for arresting the last of Christos Vasilakis’ killers.
***
The Medea sailed south, away from the harsh rush of wide open seas funneling through Mykonos’ narrow straits with neighboring Tinos.
The farther out to sea they sailed, the more ethereal Mykonos’ southern coastline became. A pearl and diamond necklace of light strung along the shore.
“Such beauty, a true paradise,” said Teacher taking off her sunglasses and looking off toward shore from the upper deck dining room.
She looked at Wacki. “You must feel blessed to be a part of all this.”
“Yes, ma’am. Absolutely.”
Those were about the only words Wacki had spoken in the two and one-half hours he and Sergey had been on board. He looked like a frightened mouse waiting for the cat to pounce.
“Did you enjoy the dinner?” She asked.
Wacki nodded. “Yes, terrific.”
“What about the wines. They were special, weren’t they? Very rare.”
“Yes, yes,” he nodded. “Never had better.” Wacki’s face now looked as if the cat were toying with him.
“And you, Sergey?”
He sat to Teacher’s right, directly across from Wacki. He reached over and patted her hand. “I cannot ever remember a finer meal, or better company.” He looked straight into Teacher’s eyes as he spoke.
“Wonderful, I’m pleased.” She did not move her hand but with the other waved to the man all in white.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Please, pour the wine.”
“More?” said Sergey.
“It is very special, a 1975 Chateau d’ Yquem. You will enjoy it I assure you. For the occasion I picked the best I could find closest to your birth year. It is a few years older than you, but the newer vintages proved sadly disappointing.”
“How thoughtful.” He smiled and tossed his head to flip his hair away from his face.
Teacher said, “I always planned to come back to Greece. I have not been here in decades, except for our brief meeting ten days ago.”
She shook her head. “Only ten days. It seems much longer. So much has happened in such a short time.”
The man produced a bottle and showed it to Teacher. She nodded.
He placed a glass in front of her, poured out a bit, and waited.
She sipped it. “Magnificent. I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.”
The man placed a glass in front of Wacki and poured. He did the same for Sergey, and filled Teacher’s glass.
Teacher raised her glass. “To Mykonos and our soon to be Mykonos Magick.”
Sergey and Wacki repeated the toast and drank.
“I must say, Sergey, when you came to me with your idea I never thought you would be able to pull it off. It seemed so farfetched, so risky. It made no sense that you, a foreigner, could succeed where so many others had failed.”
Sergey nodded. “Thank you for having faith in me.”
“But times were different, I told myself. Foreigners with skill and proper backing could gain a foothold that a generation ago seemed impossible. And, as you pointed out, where there is little moral reluctance, the ruthless are unstoppable.”
Sergey nodded.
She looked at Wacki. “Would you like more wine?”
He gestured no.
“Please, I insist. I cannot re-cork a bottle of such quality.”
“Sure, whatever you say.”
She nodded to the man in white and he refilled all three glasses. They toasted again, and drank.
“I’m not sure I’ll be back this way.”
“Why?” said Sergey, suppressing a yawn.
“Too many bad memories. Too many disappointments.”
Sergey yawned widely, but did not respond.
“But you, Wacki. You did not disappoint me. You ran true to form.”
Wacki tried to smile but the right side of his face was twitching.
“I judged you correctly. I knew you were jealous of my great fondness for Sergey, that you would do what you could to undermine him in my eyes.”
Teacher shook her head. “But never did I think you would go so far as to lie or attempt to deceive me.”
Wacki literally shook. “I never did. I never would.”
Teacher stared at him. “That’s what I thought. And that’s why I spoke to you earlier today and asked you my one simple question.”
Sergey said, “You spoke to him before we came on the boat?”
She kept her eyes on Wacki. “Yes.”