One woman danced over to Andreas, teasing him to join her in the middle of the floor. He smiled, but refused. She tried pulling him onto the dance floor. He kept smiling, but refused again. His second refusal met with friendly shouts from around the room of “ pusti,” and other names questioning his manhood. Andreas laughed and smiled but did not budge. When the practically naked woman again tried pulling him onto the dance floor, Kouros smoothly lifted her off her feet and carried her back to beneath the disco ball, smiling all the time, amid a barrage of men yelling offers to take Andreas’ place. Everyone seemed to be having a terrific time.
Kouros walked back to where Andreas and Tassos were standing.
“Thanks, Yianni,” said Andreas. “I can’t believe this.”
“My guess is that this is our distinguished minister’s surprise,” said Tassos.
“What planet is he on?” said Andreas. “Doesn’t he realize these girls are part of the sex trafficking trade? The man is an idiot.”
“A complete idiot,” said Kouros.
Tassos shook his head. “No, my friends, I’m afraid he’s just a man. Look around you. The place is filled with cops. They know what’s going on. How many do you think even care? They’ll say ‘Hey, it’s not child porn, it’s dancers at a bachelor party. Chill out. What’s the harm?’”
What’s the harm? Oh yes, the unofficial mantra of Greece for all the corrupt practices that had brought his great country to its knees.
“Yeah, ‘what’s the harm?’”
“I guess I don’t have to ask if you had a good time last night.”
Andreas heard the words through the pillow pulled tightly over his head. “I don’t remember,” he mumbled into the pillow.
“You could have slept in our bedroom, or a guest room. You didn’t have to sleep on the sofa in the elevator foyer.”
“It was the only room I could find.”
Lila laughed. “Well, my love, it’s one in the afternoon. When exactly did you get in?”
“It was light out, that’s all I remember. And someone putting me into the elevator.”
“That was Tassos. Maggie called a few hours ago. She said he wasn’t in much better shape but at least he could walk. What I want to know is who drove?”
“A sober Albanian cop. Who now has lifetime job security. As long as he doesn’t talk.”
“About what?”
“I don’t remember. And that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.”
Lila laughed again. “That reminds me, Maggie said for you to call Tassos when you’re up. Something about a meeting with Albanians.”
Andreas pulled the pillow off his face. “Oh no, not that again. I was hoping it would pass, along with the spinning of the room.” He sat up and looked at his feet. “At least I took off my shoes.”
“Nope, Marietta did that. Come, darling, time for the shower.”
He lay back down on the sofa. “Not yet. Please not yet.”
Lila grabbed his hand and tugged. “Sorry, big boy. When you play you pay. Time to get up and get to work. Our country needs you.”
“In other words, you don’t want me hanging around.”
“Good, your mind is functioning again.”
Lila tugged again at his arm. This time Andreas let her pull him up, but swung his other arm around her waist as he stood. “That’s not all that’s functioning again.” Andreas pulled loose of her grip, slid that now free arm behind her knees and lifted Lila off the floor. “Now, where is that bedroom?”
Lila smiled, put her arms around his neck, and whispered in his ear. “Follow the bed crumbs.”
Andreas laughed all the way home.
It was after three when Andreas reached Tassos at Maggie’s.
“Thanks for getting me home. Lila would have been very unhappy had I been misplaced so close to our wedding day.”
“No problem, but there’s still time.”
“Why do I think that means you’ve set up a meeting?”
“I had to call in some serious favors but the one who set it up ‘guaranteed’ our safety.”
“Meaning?”
“It’s a better than fifty-fifty chance no one with a grudge against you or me will take the opportunity to whack us. At least inside the room.”
“And where would that room be located?”
“Menidi.”
“Fantastic, great, couldn’t pick a better place. Greece has the lowest violent crime rate in all of Europe and we get to do the equivalent of running through the streets of wartime Baghdad waving an American flag shouting ‘Bush is great.’” Andreas drew in and let out a breath. “What if we don’t go?”
“To me that’s the smart move. Let it go. These bad guys won’t budge. They’re only comfortable in their own neighborhood. Don’t trust us. Like I said, they know your reputation and worry we might be setting them up for a major bust, what with the new government clamoring for a crackdown on organized crime.”
“They believe all that bullshit?” said Andreas.
“They’re not as cynical as we are on the topic of reform. The exact message was, ‘Menidi or fuck off.’”
“Well, glad to hear that we’re at least getting off on the right foot.”
“So, what do we do?” said Tassos.
Andreas paused. “Wear vests.”
“Thick ones.”
Chapter Six
Of the three cops in the unmarked, beat-up van only Kouros was familiar with Menidi. That’s what made him the designated driver. He had an aunt who lived north of Menidi in Thrakomakedones, a lovely area with large villas winding up Mount Parnitha’s hillsides. It was as different from Menidi as night was to day, but Menidi was where anyone from his aunt’s village with government business had to travel. His aunt, like many of her neighbors, kept a beat-up second hand car and nondescript, well-worn clothing for just that purpose; but not all had a bull of a nephew to accompany them on their adventures.
“Do you think we look seedy enough?” asked Tassos.
“I thought you were going to ask if the Kevlar vest made you look fat.” Kouros smiled.
Tassos reached over from the passenger’s seat with his left hand and popped his middle finger in front of Kouros’ face.
Andreas leaned forward from the back seat. “How much longer?”
“About ten minutes, I think. Amazing how much traffic there is. Wouldn’t expect it at this hour,” said Kouros.
“It’s nine o’clock, when all the gremlins start coming out of their hiding places,” said Tassos.
“I’d have liked it better if we could have set this up for a daytime meeting,” said Andreas.
“Like I said, they wouldn’t budge. They wanted every advantage.” Tassos tugged at his vest.
“How do you want to handle this, Chief?” said Kouros.
“Play it by ear and pray for inspiration.”
“I get it, like always.”
“I just want to make sure we come out of this alive. That’s the ‘prime directive,’” said Andreas.
“Wasn’t that a line from a movie?” said Kouros.
Tassos gestured no. “Television. ‘Star Trek.’”
“Did they all die in the end?” said Kouros.
“Just drive,” said Andreas.
The streets turned to gravel and the van slowed to less than fifteen miles per hour. Beggars appeared from everywhere. Kouros kept pressing forward, ignoring the tapping on the windows, and forcing those who tried to block his way to jump aside.
“I see you’ve done this before,” said Andreas.
“If I slow down too much we’ll have to stop to identify bodies.”
The building they were looking for was in the middle of the block on a busy street for Menidi. That seemed to the cops’ advantage, but not really; for in this neighborhood a busy street was about the same as walking down a dark alley. If someone wanted to whack you they just started shooting. It was up to everyone else to duck.
Kouros circled the block twice before parking directly across the street from the building. It was a run down, four-story, post-World War II apartment building in the ubiquitous concrete-slab-balcony style that had forever tarnished Athens’ beauty.