“Uhh, Chief, there’s another explanation,” said Kouros.
“Which is?”
“They put a tracking device on the courier vehicle and followed its signal to the sites.”
“I like Andreas’ theory, it has a more traditional flair to it.”
“Whatever way they did it, it could have been done without the thieves being tipped-off by someone on the inside,” said Andreas. “So, that leaves us with three open questions aside from who they are. How did they get in, how did they transport the items, and where did they take them?”
“To repeat myself, it would take a lot of time and patience to case those sites before finding the best way to get in and out undetected,” said Tassos.
“And specialized electronics help to get around the alarms and cameras,” said Kouros.
“But evidently the Foundation didn’t start to put in that sort of security until years after the robberies began. And by the time it did, I’m certain the thieves had stolen more than enough to buy whatever brains and equipment they needed to get around anything the Foundation installed,” said Andreas.
“It’s a no-brainer how they transported the stuff,” said Tassos. “In their pockets, and not a soul would notice. They could have used motorbikes or even walked away. We’re talking gems and small pieces of gold, not tea sets and paintings. As for ‘where the stuff is,’ how about anywhere in the world by now? And if any is still on Tinos, I think you guys realize by now that this island is nothing if not one big hiding place.”
Andreas took a drink of water. “It seems to me that we’re looking for a person or persons capable of spending extensive amounts of time patiently locating and carefully reconnoitering eleven sophisticated hiding places, and of circumventing elaborate electronic surveillance and security systems once they do. And who are smart enough to realize that by committing tiny burglaries they’re not likely to draw the sort of heat they’d do with big ones.”
“A ‘don’t kill the golden goose’ approach,” said Tassos.
Andreas nodded. “It’s almost as if the bad guy doing all this hasn’t had anything better to do with his life for the last ten years or so.”
“You’re saying Trelos?” said Kouros.
“He’s always been the obvious choice, and he sure as hell fits the profile, even knew how to scramble my recorder,” said Andreas.
“Plus, as he said to you, he’s ‘invisible.’ No one on the island ever notices him, and everyone expects to see him in the craziest, out of the way places,” said Tassos.
“But didn’t he tell you he only gave away his family’s money?” said Kouros.
“Are you suggesting he wouldn’t lie?” said Andreas.
Tassos rocked his head from side to side. “Frankly, I’m not so sure he’d have thought of himself as lying even if he is the thief. Do you remember Eleni saying that when Trelos’ parents died they left one of the ‘largest bequests ever’ to the Foundation?”
“Are you’re saying he considers himself to be recovering his family’s money from the Foundation?” said Andreas.
“Who knows what he thinks, but the timing works,” said Tassos. “The parents died a dozen years ago, the first thefts were noticed two years later but, considering the Foundation’s inventory practices, there’s no telling when the first robbery occurred. Under any scenario, though, Trelos had more than enough time dancing all over the island between his parents’ deaths and the first robbery to figure out how to pull it off.”
Andreas said, “What doesn’t fit is how he found killers disciplined enough to do his dirty work and keep quiet about it. He doesn’t seem the type to inspire confidence or loyalty in the breed that does that sort of work. And I definitely don’t see that happening if he never talked to them.”
“But he obviously knows how to get followers,” said Kouros. “He does have his ‘priests.’”
Tassos shook his head. “As far as we know he’s paying them to act as recruiters at so much per soul. They would never have to know a thing about the nasty side of his business. And as long as his priests and their recruits are paid on time, everyone’s happy.”
“I think it’s time to bring Trelos in for some serious questioning. Not that I expect him to talk, but I don’t want him out there arranging more murders while we’re running around trying to nail him. It makes me anxious, and that makes me prickly.” Andreas smacked Tassos on the arm.
“Oh, so that explains it. And here I thought it was just your missing Lila and Tassaki,” said Tassos.
“That too.”
“So, do we wait for him at his place, or on the road by the spot where his parents died?” said Kouros.
Tassos looked at his watch. “I think it’s too late to catch him on the road. There’s probably a better chance at his house.” Tassos pointed south toward the town. “That’s where he lives, over there to the left of the town just beyond and across from the prehistoric acropolis.”
Andreas stared. “From up here, the Vriokastro looks a lot like the tip of Tinos’ new port on the other end of the bay between them. Interesting how two very different places, separated by a mile and a half of shoreline and five thousand years of history end up with the same designer.”
“Why mess with Greek perfection?” said Tassos.
Andreas smiled. “Spoken like a true Greek god. But before we leave our lofty perch to go down and mingle among the mortals, let’s stop by police headquarters and borrow some ballistic vests. Just in case our boy might be expecting us and has made some welcoming arrangements, I don’t want to make it easy for him.”
“Are you trying to make me anxious, too?” said Kouros.
“Make that ‘us.’”
“It’s good to share.”
Chapter Twenty-five
Twenty minutes later they were back in the port, headed east along the sea toward Trelos’ house. On the right was the stretch of sandy beach they’d seen from the taverna. It lay separated from the two-lane paved road by a nearly unbroken line of almirikia — salt cedars or tamarisk-painted around their trunks with white lime to keep away the pests. To the left were mostly empty fields and an occasional shack or business just off the edge of the road. The only thing resembling anything modern was the Tinos heliport, but even that was not much more than a concrete pad and bright orange windsock on a tiny patch of land between the road and the sea, close-by the base of the Vriokastro.
The road turned left at the ancient mound and wound to about halfway up its backside. At the eastern edge of the Vriokastro they turned left into Trelos’ driveway and parked next to the house.
There was nothing to suggest anyone was home. No vehicles, no lights, no sounds.
“It’s still early,” said Kouros. “Only nine.”
“Let’s do it again the same way. Yianni around the back, we take the front. But this time, if you find a way in let us know before you try it. No heroics.”
“Aye, aye, Chief.”
Two minutes later, Kouros opened the door for them.
“I told you no heroics.”
“What heroics? The place is empty. The guy doesn’t even have a cat.”
Andreas waved his hand at Kouros. “Just sit over there by the window and keep an eye on the road. Tassos, watch the back.”
Kouros turned on a light.
“What are you doing,” said Tassos.
“What’s the matter, do you think a police car sitting in front of the house won’t be enough to alert Trelos or his buddies we’re inside?”
“No, I just wanted to know what you’re doing, wise-ass,” said Tassos.
Kouros reached into his back pocket and pulled out the guidebook. “Reading.”
“Terrific.”
An hour went by with nothing more happening than Tassos and Kouros going back and forth at each other in an effort to kill the boredom.
“What time is it?” said Tassos.
“Five minutes later than when you asked me the last time,” said Kouros.