Andreas heard “fuck you” from Angelo in the background.
“Angelo told the uncle that since he couldn’t help us, we’d have to justify our visit by having him prove to us that he was a law abiding taxpayer. Angelo had him pulling invoices for every item in the place. That shut him up. Also got him away from the girl.”
“And?”
“She was scared. I showed her Punka’s photograph and she said she’d never seen him before. I said, ‘Do you remember the man who came into the taverna the day before yesterday to see Punka?’ She acted like she didn’t know what I was talking about. I asked her if she’d like to meet ‘that man,’ and tell him personally that she ‘never saw Punka before.’ She looked like she was going to cry. That’s when I said, ‘I’m wasting my time here. Get your things you’re coming with us to police headquarters.’
“She burst into tears, said her uncle would ‘beat’ her if she told us anything. I said, ‘He’s going to beat you anyway.’”
“Glad to see you’re so understanding,” said Andreas.
“Thanks, Chief. That got her to talking. She told me Punka was a regular and, yes, he’d come back into the taverna after you dropped him off, but he didn’t speak to anyone. Her uncle tried to get him to talk about what happened but Punka wouldn’t tell him a thing.”
“Why was the uncle so interested?”
“She said he’s ‘a gossip.’ Like every other taverna owner in Greece.”
“Did she know I was a cop?”
“Yes, she overheard you.”
“Dammit.”
“Uhh, Chief.”
“Yes.”
“You were right about the girl and the tabloids. She scavenges them from the rubbish to look at the pictures. Seems your upcoming wedding made two of the biggie magazines this week, and after you left she realized where she’d seen you before.”
Andreas cleared his throat. “And, of course, she told her uncle.”
“He likes to be a big man with the gossip. It made her look good to him when she pointed you out in the magazines. One magazine gave your title and the uncle told everyone in the taverna and anyone else he could find that the head of GADA Special Crimes was in his place questioning Punka about the murder of his brothers.”
“What did the lying son-of-a-bitch say when you confronted him.” Andreas made no attempt to hide his anger.
Christina paused. “We didn’t confront him.”
“ You didn’t what?”
“Chief, we figured the uncle wouldn’t tell us anything anyway, and if he knew the girl had talked to us he might do her some really serious harm.”
Andreas shut his eyes, drew in a breath, and let it out. “You did the right thing. See you at the wedding.” He hung up.
Andreas stared out the window. The ferry was preparing to pirouette up to the dock.
It was my screw-up. That’s why Punka’s dead. No reason for someone else to get hurt because of me. Besides, with Punka gone there’ll be no more leads coming from that direction. Andreas slammed his fist into the back of the empty seat in front of him.
We have to find another place to start.
“Welcome to Tinos,” came over the loud speaker.
The harbor of Tinos lay northwest and virtually equidistant from the old and new ports of Mykonos. How long that port-to-port, nine-mile trip took depended on whether one traveled by freighter, ferry, or fast boat. Almost every regularly scheduled commercial passenger vessel in or out of Athens’ port cities of Piraeus and Rafina that stopped on Mykonos also stopped on Tinos. That wasn’t just because Tinos lacked an airport, but because it was home to the Church of Panagia Evangelistria and the extraordinarily influential earthly power behind it which in less than two hundred years had established what many called The Vatican of Greece: The Panhellenic Holy Foundation of our Lady of the Annunciation of Tinos, better known simply as The Evangelistria Foundation.
Tassos met Andreas at the quayside.
“How was the trip?”
“Uneventful. Except for the part where I told Lila I was leaving her for you.”
“As long as you show up for the wedding all will be forgiven.”
“She sort of said the same thing. But not as sweetly.”
Tassos pointed to a stream of women dressed in black heading in the direction of Megalochari Avenue leading up the hill to Panagia Evangelistria. “Bring her back a candle from the church.”
“Not sure they have one big enough to save me.” He watched some of the women drop to their knees and begin crawling along the three-foot wide, rose-color carpet running up along the right edge of the road. “Amazing how dedicated people can be to their faith.”
Tassos smiled. “Until you know what they’re praying for. Not all are crawling with saintly thoughts.”
“What are you talking about?”
“On the boat over from Piraeus I was sitting behind three normal-looking church-ladies. They were carrying on about the reason for their pilgrimage. Seems they all hated the same neighbor and were coming to Tinos with prayers and offerings to have their neighbor done in.”
“You must be kidding.”
“Just because you pray doesn’t mean you have a good soul. A lot of very bad people are big time churchgoers. And I’m not just talking about politicians.” Tassos smiled. “But at least my little old ladies are leaving their neighbor’s fate in God’s hands.”
Andreas shook his head. “Any luck on who did in the tsigani brothers?”
“Nothing specific, but this being Greece everyone has an opinion. Most blame it on metanastes.”
“So what else is new? Greece’s usual suspects for anything bad, foreigners.”
“That’s about what I said when the Tinians started in on them. But they insisted it’s not like that. They said that this season there are more foreign workers on Tinos than they can remember in years. Tsigani, too. ‘They’re everywhere.’”
“Times are bad in Athens and Tinos is one of the cheaper places to live in the Cyclades,” said Andreas.
“But there’s hardly any work here, and the foreigners are undercutting each other to get whatever work there is.”
“Employers must love it.”
“Even they’re worried. With so many metanastes competing for so little work, they’re afraid crime will go off the charts.”
“Tell me about it. Have you seen what’s going on in Athens?”
Tassos nodded. “In the Cyclades, too. But here’s the strange thing. I checked with the Tinos police. Got the real figures, not the ones for tourist consumption. If you pull out the two murders, crime actually is down on Tinos.”
“That’s what I call a real miracle,” said Andreas.
“I mean way down. And I’m talking break-ins, robberies. The sorts of things you expect to go off the charts when times are tough.”
Andreas shook his head, “Never thought I’d be wishing for crime to be up, but it seems like the bad guys are doing exactly what Punka said they were told to do, ‘behave.’ Any idea why?”
“No, but I’ve set up a meeting with someone who knows as much about what’s going on here as anyone. She works for the Evangelistria Foundation. All I told her was that I wanted to talk to her about a ‘sensitive’ matter. I figured I’d let you decide if you want the Foundation to know that their church might be some sort of target.”
“If I recall correctly, two of our kings believed they owed their lives to the curative powers of the Megalochari, and at least one of our prime ministers considered that holy icon the source of his political power. How many milliseconds do you think it will take after we share our little theory with your Foundation lady before our Prime Minister gets a call from the Foundation and I get one from Spiros screaming, ‘What the hell are you doing?’”
Tassos smiled. “Just tell him ‘we’re closing the case.’”
Andreas rubbed his eyes. “When’s the meeting?”
Tassos looked at his watch. “Fifteen minutes.”
Andreas nodded toward the Church of Panagia Evangelistria. “Well, I guess we should head on up there.”
Tassos gestured no. “When I told her it was ‘sensitive’ she suggested we meet at a taverna out of town.”