“No, the pentathlon.”
“Amazing,” said Tassos. “Seeing her now it’s hard to imagine what she once was.”
“Her brother even more so, but his skill set was pure gray matter,” said Eleni.
“Petros?” said Tassos.
“No, Trelos. It’s said he was the smartest kid of his generation on Tinos. A certified genius.”
“What happened to him?” said Andreas.
“The same thing that happens to a lot of kids who can’t find stimulation in school, they find it elsewhere. He ended up hooked on heroin. His parents tried everything they could to help him. Even had him physically dragged off the island to some special clinic in Switzerland. Rumor was they did something to his brain there. When he came back he was never the same. He spent all his time with his music and computers. And after his parents died he never talked to anyone again. He just started dancing around the island and hasn’t stopped.”
“How did his parents die?” said Tassos.
“In a car accident on the road between here and Pyrgos. They were driving back late at night when their car went off the road and over a cliff. The police said the father apparently fell asleep at the wheel. A real tragedy.”
“How come you know so much about the accident?” said Andreas.
“It was big news on Tinos. The family was quite prominent, descendants of one of our island’s most celebrated heroes of the War of Independence, and zealously dedicated to preserving Tinos traditional life. They also were among the richest Tinian families and left a considerable donation to the Megalochari.”
“You mean the Foundation, don’t you?” said Andreas.
“Yes.”
“How considerable?”
“I really can’t say.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“It was one of the largest bequests ever received from a Tinian family.”
“Seven, eight, nine figures?”
“I’ve said all I’m going to say on that subject.” Her tone was sharp.
Tassos stood up. “Thanks, kukla. I don’t think we have any more questions, do we Andreas?”
Andreas looked at Tassos and smiled. “I guess that’s your uncle’s way of saying I’m pushing you too hard again. Sorry. But I do have one last question. Do you have any idea where we might find Trelos?”
“He always walks the road his parents died on. If you follow that road sooner or later you’ll find Trelos.”
Andreas stood up. “Thanks. Anything else we should know about him?”
“Yes, I understand he’s really quite harmless.”
They found a place to park on the right side of the road up against a hillside just before a hairpin turn to the right. On the left was a brilliant view of the sea, a guardrail, and a sheer drop of several hundred feet. It was impossible to see around the bend at what might be coming from the direction of Pyrgos, but this was the only spot within three hundred yards of the curve that allowed them to park off the road.
“According to the police report, they were coming in the other direction and went over the cliff right there.” Kouros pointed from the back seat of the police cruiser straight ahead between Andreas and Tassos. “There was no guardrail then.”
“Did you find anyone at the station who knew anything more about the accident than was in the report?” said Andreas.
“By the time you called and asked me to get the report the only two who might have known anything more were out doing our surveillance. I left word for them to call me when their shifts were over.”
“What makes you think they might know something?” said Tassos.
“The accident happened about a dozen years ago, and those two are the only ones still on the force who were here at the time.”
Andreas started drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. “You know, your niece is right. If we had to say out loud what makes us think Trelos and his sister have anything to do with whatever is going on here, we’d be giving Spiros grounds for certifying us as crazy.”
“Speaking of crazy, Chief, look who’s coming down the road.”
Dancing toward them in the oncoming lane, wearing a black tee shirt, black running shorts, a black waist pack, and black tennis shoes, was Trelos. He seemed oblivious to everything but what was coming through the earphones from the white iPod in his right hand. He did a pirouette-like move at the edge of the road closest to the cliff before backing across the road toward the hillside in a style that would make Michael Jackson fans proud. He seemed to catch a rhythm that had him strutting up to the police car. He stopped in front and spun around twice, almost like an ant searching for a way around an unexpected obstacle in its path.
Andreas opened his door. “This should be interesting.”
Chapter Twenty-two
Trelos didn’t move from in front of the police car when the three cops got out and surrounded him. Nor did he stop moving in time to his music.
“Pandeleis, good morning.” Andreas thought it better to call Trelos by his given name.
Trelos kept spinning and dancing in front of the police car.
“I said, ‘Good morning.’”
Andreas thought he saw a slight nod, but beyond that nothing to indicate Trelos heard a word Andreas had said.
“We want to talk to you about your sister.”
More dancing.
“Get in the car.”
He didn’t move from his spot.
“Yianni, put him in the back seat.”
Kouros stepped forward, gently put his hand on Trelos’ elbow, and led him back to the car. Kouros opened the rear door on the driver side and steered him into the car, taking care not to hit Trelos’ head on the roof pillar. Kouros closed the door and went back to the front of the car.
“I thought you were going to rip off his earphones,” said Tassos.
“No reason for that, he seems a gentle soul.”
“Inspires your protective instincts, does he?” said Andreas. “That’s quite a gift to have. His brother, Petros, said something about it being his obligation to ‘protect’ him. I wonder if his sister feels the same way.”
“What are you getting at?” said Kouros.
“From the way things seem to be going with this guy, I’d say nothing,” said Tassos.
“Let’s take him back to his house,” said Andreas. “Maybe we’ll find some way to get through to him there. Because we sure as hell aren’t getting anywhere with him here.”
When they arrived at the house a Tinos police car was parked in front.
Andreas turned to look at Trelos in the back seat. “They’ve been waiting for you to come home. You put many people to a lot of trouble to find you.”
Kouros got out of the backseat on the passenger side and went around to get Trelos out the other side.
“By the way, since you obviously didn’t come home last night, where were you?” said Andreas. “You’re clean shaven, so don’t tell me you were out dancing on the streets all night.”
Andreas got out of the car when Trelos did. “I’ll take him from here, Yianni. Please thank the Tinos cops and tell them they can leave now. And check to see if any of them know anything about you-know-what.”
Andreas pointed in the direction of the house and said to Trelos. “Walk.”
He didn’t move.
“I didn’t think you’d listen. That’s your hustle isn’t it? I don’t buy your Peter Pan routine. So, move.” Andreas pushed Trelos toward the front door.
Trelos paused.
Andreas pushed him again. “Keep moving or I’ll ram that iPod so far up your ass you won’t need earphones.”
Tassos stepped in next to Andreas and whispered. “I see Yianni’s playing good cop and you’re playing Attila the Hun cop.”
“He’s moving, isn’t he?”
Once inside, Trelos walked over to the mantle and touched a photograph of a man and a woman.
“Are those your parents?” said Andreas.
Trelos said nothing. He went over to the refrigerator, took out a bottle of water, opened a cupboard, took out a glass, filled it with water, drank it all, refilled the glass, and drank that, too. Then he put the bottle back in the refrigerator, took the glass over to the sink, washed it, dried it, and put it back in the cupboard.