“Uhh, speaking of ‘serious trouble’ could we focus for a minute on a rather immediate, personal problem?” said Kouros.
“What are you talking about?” said Andreas.
“We just pissed off some of the meanest motherfuckers in Greece. They’re not going to just walk away from this. How do you suggest we deal with them?”
“Aleksander wasn’t happy about what happened tonight,” said Tassos. “Going after us disrespected him in a very public way. Worse yet, the ones who disrespected him failed. Don’t worry, Yianni, they’ll ‘work things out among themselves.’” Tassos emphasized his last words with finger quotes morphed into the universal thumb and forefinger sign for a gun.
“Let’s hope so,” said Kouros. “After all, I’d prefer attending a wedding to a funeral this weekend.”
Andreas tapped a pencil against his forehead. “Maybe it’s not such a bad idea to put the Menidi boys away. At least the ones from the meeting until after the wedding. Give them a chance to cool down. After all, we don’t want them getting so worked up over what we might have in mind for them that they decide to come after us first.”
Tassos nodded. “Yeah, I’d rather see you dodging rice than Molotov cocktails.”
Among the hardest things to find in Athens when you’re looking for one is a big time mobster to arrest. They seemed to sense when it was time to disappear. Or perhaps it was a service included with their monthly envelopes stuffed with euros to Athens’ not so finest: the “it’s time to get out of town” call.
But after the debacle in Menidi no one at that meeting had to be told to disappear. There’d be no way to find any of them unless you knew where to look. That’s why Tassos called Aleksander in the middle of the night with a simple proposition: “Tell me where your colleagues from the meeting are hiding, and I’ll put them away until things calm down.”
Tassos wasn’t surprised when Aleksander agreed. Tassos’ suggestion temporarily ridded Aleksander of his rivals, giving him breathing room and time to regroup. What surprised him was the list Aleksander rattled off. He named twice the number of bad guys at the meeting. Tassos didn’t bother to ask what Aleksander had in mind. It was the price of the deal. Besides, Tassos never cared what garbage did to garbage.
By noon every mobster on the list was in custody. Not a shot had been fired. It wasn’t worth it to them. They all had lawyers. The lawyers were lined up outside Andreas’ office in what looked to be a bakery line. He’d worked out an informal procedure with the prosecutor. The lawyers came in one by one and ranted for a while about “discrimination by the police against hard working immigrants” until finally getting around to asking about the charges.
That was Andreas’ favorite part. Watching the expressions on the faces of the lawyers while he listed the charges. Not one carried a risk of more than thirty days jail time at most.
“What the hell’s going on?” was the most common response, followed closely by “You must be kidding!” The sharp lawyers knew there was a reason, there had to be, and they patiently waited for the other shoe to drop. Only the inexperienced suggested Andreas did not know what he was doing and threatened what would happened to him if the client wasn’t released “at once.”
Those moments gave Andreas great joy.
“Counselor, you’re absolutely right. Your client does not deserve to be in jail on these charges. So let me make a proposal to you. I will withdraw them and bring these instead.” Andreas slid a document across the table charging the client with the attempted, pre-meditated murder of three police officers, and a plethora of related crimes.
“As you’ve no doubt noticed, the crimes charged took place less than forty-eight hours ago, which means your client stays in jail until trial, no bail.” That wasn’t quite true in all situations, but it was a risk the lawyer knew he must tell his client.
That brought on a volley of protests, claiming “trumped up charges” and the like.
Andreas raised his hand for the lawyer to stop. “Counselor, the situation is simple. Tell your client to relax, spend a few days with old friends in a place that’s like home to him, just until things ‘cool down.’ He’ll know what I mean. Or, if he wants to test me, to see if I’m serious about bringing the new charges, tell him about the risks he faces if he doesn’t take my deal, and I’m not just talking about the new charges. Remind him I’m one of the cops your client and his buddies tried to murder last night.”
Each lawyer’s client chose the short vacation option.
That was fine with Andreas. He wasn’t ready to arrest any of them yet for what happened in that parking lot. With their connections and money none was likely to be denied bail. Not for just the attempted murder of a cop. Great system.
At least the worst were off the streets for now. All but one. The crooked, bearded cop. No way to arrest him.
But the fates were Greek and once more they stepped in and took a hand. Well, actually broke a hand, two legs, three ribs, and a jaw. The bearded cop was mugged coming out of a whorehouse just before dawn. He was found and taken to a hospital next to GADA where he was under twenty-four-hour police protection, on Andreas’ orders. Rumor had it he decided to accept early retirement. Miraculously, his unbroken hand was the one he needed to sign the necessary papers, scheduled for that afternoon in his hospital room.
“Maggie, where’s Yianni?” Andreas had just said goodbye to the last of the lawyers. He was exhausted and wanted to go home. He’d never made it there last night.
Maggie stuck her head through the doorway. “He’s in his office, with Tassos.”
“Tell them to come in here.”
Maggie stepped inside and closed the door. “I think you should go to his office, Chief. There are still lawyers in the hallway.”
Andreas was about to ask why that mattered but if Maggie said it there must be a good reason. Kouros’ office was on the same floor as Andreas’ but windowless. The door to his office was closed. That was unusual. Andreas knocked.
“Come in,” said Kouros.
Andreas opened the door and looked in. “Another surprise party?”
“No, just little old me and mister ex- lokazides here,” said Tassos pointing to Kouros lying across his desk with a towel over his head. Lokazides was the nickname for the special ops brotherhood of Greece’s equivalent of U.S. Navy Seals.
“A little less noise if you please,” said Kouros.
Andreas didn’t have to ask what happened. “Looks like you’ve been in a fight.”
“ Mano a mano,” said Kouros.
“From what I understand about the condition of the other guy I don’t think he’d agree.” Andreas smiled. “More like man versus bull.”
Kouros pulled the towel off his face, one eye was swollen shut and his nose appeared broken, though it was hard to tell if that would be an improvement over the results of its past breaks.
“I’ll ask Lila if perhaps she has another veil for you to wear to the wedding.” Andreas patted Kouros on the arm. “So, what happened? I thought you were just going to talk to him?”
“I didn’t go there to beat the shit out of him, it just turned out that way.”
Tassos said, “I was there and we tried to talk to him. We gave him the choice you suggested, take early retirement or become your number one target for investigation. He raised various questions about our parentage and yelled to some of his colleagues in the brothel for help.” He looked at Kouros. “It was a joy to watch our young friend here at work. There were three of them plus the dirty cop and I was able to assist with one.”
“A lead pipe to the back of the head was more than an assist. Where did you find that thing anyway?”
Tassos shrugged. “By the end of the exercise our cop friend saw the light.”
Andreas said, “Glad everything turned out okay, good job.”
Kouros stared at Andreas. “I don’t consider being stretched out on top of my desk as ‘okay.’”