“We have to work,” said the short one.
The tall one said something again in Polish. Kouros shot out his hand and gripped it firmly over her mouth. “Perhaps you didn’t hear the man. ‘Only Greek.’ Prosze. ” After he’d said “please” in Polish, Kouros took away his hand.
Andreas nodded. “Ladies, you’re right. You do have a very serious problem. Whoever killed your Pakistani friend and your two tsigani friends must be very nervous over what you might be telling us at this very moment. But, it’s too late to change all that. The only way things can get better for you now is if you help us find whoever killed your friends.”
Andreas paused, but neither woman said a word. “And I’m the one cop in Greece who can actually help you when he says that he can. You do know that I’m GADA’s Chief of Special Crimes? I gave you my card, didn’t I?”
The tall one said, “Yes.”
“Do you still have it?”
“No way. We left it on the table,” said the short one. “If we took it with us anyone who saw you give it to us might think we intended to call you, and God knows what rumors that would start.”
Andreas stared at the short girl. She had street smarts. And she was right. He turned his head and looked around the room. All eyes were on their table except for when his were on theirs. That was to be expected. This was where you came to learn your community’s gossip. The Greeks had their kafeneions for morning coffee, the metanastes their after work places for beers. Andreas wished he could hear what they were saying at their tables.
He watched the sister in her slippers shuffle toward them with a tray of beers. One by one she put a bottle down in front of each of them, taking care as she did. He waited until she’d left.
“Do you remember when you told me about the two Carausii brothers talking about their ‘big break’ and that guy they called ‘the shepherd’?”
“‘ Cioban,’ yes.”
“Did they ever talk about that in here?”
“No, they never came in here,” said the tall one.
Andreas looked around the room as he said, “Did either of you ever talk to someone in here about the brothers or their big break?”
“Before they died?” said the short one.
“Yes.”
“No, we kept all that to ourselves.”
Andreas focused his eyes first on one, then on the other of the girls. “Did you ever talk in here between yourselves about what they told you?”
“Of course,” said the tall one.
“Why wouldn’t we?” said the short one. “It was the only interesting thing going on in our lives.”
The woman returned with a tray of glasses and began putting them down separately in front of each person at the table.
Andreas reached over to a nearby table and dragged an empty chair up next to him. “ Kiria. Please, come join us.” He’d used the respectful title for a woman and stood to pull the chair out for her.
The woman kept putting down the glasses as if she’d not heard him. He reached over and touched her arm. “Please, sit.”
She mumbled something and shuffled off toward the bar.
“ I said sit. ” Andreas said it so loudly that two men getting up from a nearby table immediately sat down. But the woman kept walking toward the doorway.
“Yianni, bring her back.”
Kouros lurched out of his chair after her as she went through the doorway into the bar, but Petros stepped into the doorway with his arms spread out above his head, hands on the frame, blocking Kouros’ way.
“Please move, sir. We want to speak to the lady.”
“She’s my sister. Nobody talks to her.”
“Move or be moved.”
Petros swung his right hand down from the doorframe at Kouros’ face. Kouros didn’t duck. He leaned in and drove his forehead into Petros’ chest, knocking the fat man off-balance, as he grabbed Petros’ testicles in his right hand and squeezed the screaming man back into his chair in the bar.
“Stay,” said Kouros. He spun around to find the woman but she wasn’t there. He ran out the front door. She wasn’t there either. He heard a motorbike starting up behind the building and raced to the back just in time to catch a glimpse of a taillight disappearing behind a neighboring building.
“Damnit.” Kouros turned and looked at the wall. “How the hell did she get out there so fast?” The back of the building was solid. She could only have come out the front door. He went back inside to where Andreas was sitting.
“Sorry, Chief. She got away.”
“How the hell did she do that?” said Tassos.
“That’s just what I was wondering. There’s no back door.”
“Ladies, if you’ll excuse us.” Andreas stood. “By the way, if I were you I’d continue keeping myself scarce. At least for the time being.”
Andreas walked into the bar, followed by Tassos and Kouros. He put his hands on Petros’ table and leaned in until he was nose-to-nose with him. “Where did she go?”
“No idea.”
“Yianni, take him outside. Around to the back.”
This time Kouros didn’t ask Petros to move. He grabbed him in a wristlock, twisted hard and dragged him from the table out the door.
Tassos had been watching the main room, just in case someone might get the idea of being a hero. “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your patience and understanding. On behalf of the management I’m happy to say that all drinks this evening are on the house. Enjoy yourselves.” He left the bar to the sound of clinking bottles and shouts of foreign language equivalents for yamas.
Behind the building Kouros had Petros’ face pinned against the bar’s concrete wall.
Andreas leaned in and whispered in Petros’ ear. “Like I said, ‘where did she go?’”
“Fuck you.”
“You threatened to kill my son and now have the balls to say ‘fuck you’ to me?” Andreas drove his right and left fists into Petros’ kidneys.
Above Petros’ scream Andreas said, “You have no friends, no one is going to come out here to help you. It’s just going to be you and me and big pain until you tell me what I want to know.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I never threatened anyone.”
“You threatened me, asshole,” said Kouros bringing Petros’ face off the cement just far enough to bang it back against the wall.
“But you were going after my sister. She’s not right. I had to protect her.”
“If I were you, I’d start worrying about who’s going to protect you from me,” said Andreas.
“Please, I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about. Fine, if you want Meerna’s address I’ll give it to you. Everyone knows it anyway.” He blurted out an address. “But I don’t know where she is now. Honest.”
“Pretty smart,” said Andreas. “Getting her to eavesdrop on your customers. I wouldn’t have picked up on it if she hadn’t taken such time and care in putting down first the bottles and later the glasses. A hell of an improvement in service from the last time we were here. What’s the matter, you don’t speak your customers’ languages, and so you make your sister do your dirty work?”
“She never talks to anyone. Barely to me. I don’t know what she does or doesn’t understand. All she does is listen. It’s her life. She has nothing else but this place and me.”
“What about Trelos? Does your sister talk to him?” said Andreas.
“I don’t like you calling my brother that name. His name is Pandeleis.”
“Just answer my question.”
“He talks even less than she does, and the voices he listens to aren’t even live. It’s whatever comes through his iPod. But they’re my only brother and sister, and with our parents dead, it’s up to me to protect and take care of them. Even though they only say a goddamned word to me when they need something. Welcome to my life.”
Andreas motioned for Kouros to let him loose. “So, why did you stop us from questioning your sister?”
Petros turned around, leaned back against the wall, and rubbed at his left wrist and elbow. “I didn’t know what you wanted her for. All I saw was that look of fear in her eyes, and I had to do something.”
“What look of fear?” said Andreas.