Spiros rubbed his chin. “It’s about the money.”
“Come again?”
“There are serious people in the E.U. looking for any justification for ending financial aid to Greece. So far the arguments against us are purely financial. That we don’t work hard enough, we’re corrupt, we don’t want to pay taxes. You know the routine. And although you may not think it, that’s a problem for those who are willing to let us go under, because more people in the E.U. are sympathetic to us than against us. It’s a person-to-person thing. They feel the Greek people are being made to suffer by the E.U.’s big boys in an effort to deflect attention away from their own banks’ fiscal mistakes. We don’t want to do anything that might give our enemies different ammunition.”
“What sort of ammunition?”
“The worst, the hypocritical kind. I don’t have to tell you how every country in Europe has its own sort of immigrant issues. Ethnic stereotypes are a convenient, irresistible scapegoat for political failings, especially in hard times, and no one wants to be the first to point a serious finger at another country’s shortcomings in dealing with its immigrants.
“But our adversaries would love to switch the focus of the debate from our country’s financial problems to our national character. Paint us as indifferent to the plight of non-Greeks, an intolerant place where only Greeks are treated as deserving of protection, and all others be damned. It’s a volatile, irrational, and emotional argument but one that could turn world opinion against us if it found traction in the press. And then it would no longer be just a question of denying us further bailout funds, but whether or not to drum us out of the E.U.”
“With all due respect, Spiros, it sounds a bit dramatic to say that the murder of two tsigani on a relatively unknown island to non-Greeks could be the cause of getting us kicked out of the E.U.”
Spiros shrugged. “Our Prime Minister sees it as a risk and that’s good enough for me. Psychos running around the Greek countryside incinerating tsigani play right into the hands of those who want Greece to fail. And the longer this case remains open the greater the chance of some foreign reporter seeing glory in a story that shocks the world into action against us by linking Greece to words like ‘intolerance’ and ‘genocide.’ We cannot allow that to happen.”
Spiros seemed quite satisfied with his speech.
Andreas said, “Don’t you think the first thing to do is find out whether there actually are psychos running around out there? And if so, put an end to them.”
Spiros faced tightened. “There is no time for that. If the foreign press runs with that sort of story there will be no way to put the genie back in the bottle. We’ll be tarred forever. Besides, the only logical explanation for what happened is tsigani killing tsigani. I’m sure Tassos will agree.”
Andreas was surprised Spiros had resisted adding, “even if you don’t.” He took that as a sign of how desperate Spiros was for his help. What the hell, Tassos was a big boy. He could decide for himself whether or not to go along with Spiros’ wished for explanation.
“Okay, I’ll talk to him. But, first, I need to see the Tinos police’s file on the investigation.”
“Why?”
Andreas stared. “If you want me to help you close this case that can’t be a serious question.”
Spiros bit at his lower lip. “Okay, I’ll get it right over to you.” He stood up. “But I’m counting on you to do me this little favor and get everything wrapped up before the press gets to thinking there might be more to this than tsigani fighting tsigani.”
Andreas stood. “Thanks for stopping by. Always nice to see you, minister.”
Spiros pointed a finger at Andreas’ chest. “And I definitely want it closed before the wedding.”
“I’ll pass along your regards to Lila.” Andreas thought that a more politic goodbye than a simple, “So long, asshole.”
“ Maggie. ” Andreas found yelling for his secretary far more efficient than the intercom. The door swung open and a sturdy five-foot three-inch ball of energy came bounding into the room carrying a half-dozen file folders.
“You rang.”
“I like your hair. It looks very nice today.”
“Something really serious must be happening if you’re trying to soften me up.” Maggie had been a secretary at GADA for what seemed forever. She was its mother superior, knew all its secrets, and was used to speaking her mind. Pure chance landed her as Andreas’ secretary when her long time boss retired weeks before Andreas’ promotion back to GADA from Mykonos.
“Why do I even bother trying to be nice?”
“The word is ‘manipulative,’ not ‘nice.’ And the reason is because you can’t help yourself. You’re a man. Worse, a Greek man.” She put the files on Andreas’ desk.
Andreas put his left hand to his forehead and began to rub it. “Okay, I surrender. Please, I need you to pick out a gift for Lila. Something to show her I’m thinking of the wedding.”
“Oh boy, you must be in big time trouble.”
“You have no idea.”
“Unexpected gifts are the sure sign of a guilty conscience. The moment she sees it she’ll know something’s up.”
Andreas stared at her.
“Just call her and come clean.”
“Any other advice?”
“Then send the gift. Like a book of photographs showing beautiful weddings in churches. May I get back to work now?”
Andreas drew in and let out a breath. “I really do love you.”
“I know.” Maggie turned and walked toward the door.
“Have you been able to find Yianni?”
“Yes, he should be here any minute.”
“Great, tell him I want to see him as soon as he gets in.”
“Will do.” Maggie opened the door and pointed back at the files on Andreas’ desk. “They just came from the minister’s office.” As she closed the door she whispered into the room, “The book will be there by five, so don’t forget to call.”
Andreas stared at the closed door and shook his head. I’d rather call Spiros and tell him I quit than make this call. Lila is going to kill me. Calling off the wedding would be too easy on me.
Andreas was the son of a working class cop; Lila was from one of Greece’s oldest, wealthiest families, and the socially prominent young widow of a ship owner. Andreas met her when he called upon Lila’s knowledge of ancient Greek art for help in an investigation and things just happened between them. He loved her more than anyone on earth but never expected to marry her; even after she told him she was pregnant. He was certain they had too little in common to form a life together. Lila convinced him he was wrong.
Andreas drew in a deep breath. Perhaps this call might just prove to her that I was right. He picked up the phone and pressed a speed dial button.
“Vardi-Kaldis residence.”
He let out the breath. “Hi, Marietta, is Lila there?”
“One moment, Chief Kaldis.”
It was Andreas who insisted the phone be answered that way. All of Athens knew his soon-to-be-wife as Lila Vardi and, besides, most calls to their apartment were for her anyway.
“Hi, darling. I was wondering when I’d hear from you. What time are you picking me up for our rescheduled meeting with the wedding planner?”
Something in Lila’s voice told him this wouldn’t be easy. “Uhh, sorry. Things just sort of got out of hand.”
“Tell me about it. Remember how cute we thought it was watching Tassaki trying to walk? Well, today he’s decided to become a 24/7 sprinter.”
Their son was named Tassos, after Andreas deceased father, but when a well-meaning American friend of Lila’s added “aki” to the engraving on the silver frame of a baby photo-thinking Tassaki meant “little Tassos”-the laughs it generated sealed his fate. Greeks were in love with nicknames and little Tassos was now affectionately known by the Greek word for “ashtray.” Andreas tried convincing Lila it could have been worse; one of Andreas’ sister’s boys was called kremidhas the other skordho, a combination of “onions” and “garlic.” Lila still didn’t like it, but had come to accept the inevitable.