‘You’re right, but what connection do the nationalists have with all that?’
He stood over me and looked me in the eye from above.
‘The police officers of your generation underestimate the extreme right-wing factions, Inspector. I’m not saying that by way of reproach, I know that’s how you were weaned. But, since being a high-school pupil, I’ve been in conflict with them and I know only too well their methods and what they’re capable of doing. If you were to arrest them tomorrow, I can assure you that you would have public opinion on your side and no one would doubt that they had done it.’
So he had finally opened up and I could see now where he was leading. He couldn’t care less whether I found the reasons behind the suicides of a tycoon and a politician. All he wanted was for me to pin it on the extreme right so that the case would be closed and he would be able to relax. I was about to tell him straight when I suddenly remembered Ghikas’s words: ‘Whatever he tells you, just say “yes”.’ For once in my life, I decided to take his advice.
‘I see, Mr Petroulakis. Of course, we’ll need to get hold of some evidence to make the accusation stick.’
My reply pleased him and he smiled with satisfaction. ‘I’m certain you’ll come up with the evidence. I have every confidence in your abilities.’ He held out his hand to tell me that the conversation was over. ‘And we’ll be in touch,’ he said, shaking my hand. ‘But always call me on my mobile phone, not on the landline.’
It made no difference to me where I called him. My problem was elsewhere. I wondered what I would have to tell him the next time I called him. I was met outside by the Thai girl, who, like a guard of honour, showed me to the door.
As I was going down Octaviou Merlie Street in order to turn into Ippokratous Street and come out into Solonos Street, I reflected that it was the first time that I had felt Ghikas was lending me his support. I couldn’t decide whether this was because he had a genuine liking for me or whether it was due to the fact that Yanoutsos got on his nerves more than I did. Most likely the latter. Of course, this support might simply be due to the fact that I was carrying out an unofficial investigation and, not only that, but while on sick leave too. If something were to go wrong, he hadn’t given me any official orders and consequently he didn’t bear any of the responsibility. Thinking it over again, I decided that this was the more likely explanation. It had nothing to do with his either liking or disliking me, or with his being at cross-swords with Yanoutsos. He was helping me because he was in no danger of compromising himself and, at the same time, he was getting rid of Yanoutsos. I wasn’t sure whether this thought angered me because it made me see Ghikas’s ulterior motives or whether it relieved me because it put him back in his proper place and didn’t upset the existing balance of things.
I found a space for the Mirafiori in the parking lot at the corner of Solonos Street and Mavromichali Street. Number 128 was an old building, something between a large apartment block and a small office block, quite common for buildings from the fifties. Karyofyllis’s office was on the fifth floor. I stepped out of the lift into a dim corridor with mosaic floors, the kind that still look filthy no matter how often you clean them.
However, Karyofyllis’s office dispelled the previous impression. I crossed a carpeted hallway and entered a spacious and well-lit office with two secretaries sitting in front of computers. Between the two secretaries was a door with plastic casing and gold studs, rather like a square tray of baklava. Judging from its appearance, this must have been the door leading to Karyofyllis’s office.
One of the secretaries looked up and stared at me, while the other continued punching the computer keys. I adopted my official tone of voice and said curtly:
‘Inspector Haritos. I’m here to see Mr Karyofyllis. It’s an urgent matter.’
My tone of voice made the other secretary look up from her computer. ‘Please have a seat for a moment,’ the first one said as she went through the baklava door. She came back out in less than a minute and told me to go in.
Karyofyllis’s office was the same as that of his secretaries, but one notch higher in quality. The carpet was thicker, the desk bigger and the back of his chair higher. The secretaries had a fan; here there was air conditioning. Karyofyllis was about my age, wearing a suit, with black hair and a thin moustache that made him resemble a certain popular singer of bouzouki songs from the sixties. As soon as he saw me, he got to his feet and held out his hand.
‘Good day, Inspector. How might I help you?’
Like an uncouth copper, I sat down uninvited in the chair in front of his desk and stared at him pensively.
‘The question is how you might help me and how I might help you,’ I said.
My introduction took him unawares and he looked worried. ‘I don’t understand.’
I nodded to him to sit down, as though the roles had been reversed and he were in my office.
‘Listen here, Mr Karyofyllis. What I am about to tell you is still unofficial.’ I stressed the word ‘still’. He had crossed his arms on the desk and was waiting for the rest. ‘A Russo-Pontian who bought a flat in Larymnis Street, in the area of Konstantinoupoleos Avenue has lodged a complaint with us. The sale was conducted by a certain estate agent by the name of Yorgos Iliakos.’
I didn’t ask him whether he knew the particular estate agency, and he didn’t say anything to the effect, but his eyes told me that he did.
‘The Russo-Pontian says that he paid forty-five thousand euros. He signed whatever papers were given to him, but he knew no Greek. The other day, however, he was visited by a colleague of his to whom he showed the contract. And it appeared that the price on the contract was not forty-five thousand euros but twenty-five.’
‘Let me just say …’
I didn’t allow him to go on. ‘I haven’t finished yet. It’s fortunate that the fellow happened to be Russo- Pontian. They know nothing of lawsuits or lawyers or legal proceedings … Whether they’re hit by a car or have their windows smashed or are deceived about the price of their home, they always come running to the police. This will help us keep the complaint out of the official channels for the time being. So I’m here to talk to you unofficially, Mr Karyofyllis. Is it possible that the contract might state a different price to the one received by the seller?’
I saw his expression change. He looked worried and his gaze wandered round the room with suspicion, almost with a conspiratorial gleam.
‘Yes, and it’s quite common,’ he said. ‘But I’m afraid I can’t reveal to you how it’s done.’
‘Why?’
‘Because it’s a felony.’
‘Felony?’
He hesitated and then slowly emitted the words through his teeth: ‘Tax evasion.’
‘I’m not a tax inspector, Mr Karyofyllis. I’m a police inspector. Your relations with the tax office don’t concern me.’
‘It’s a common practice to declare a lower price in order to reduce the tax.’
‘And is that what happened in this case?’
‘I would suppose so.’
‘And what if the seller did only receive twenty-five thousand euros?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘If the difference didn’t go into the seller’s pocket …’
‘So who’s pocket did it go into? The estate agent’s?’
I left the question dangling in the air and changed tack.
‘Mr Karyofyllis, I want to be honest with you. I don’t have any interest at all in you personally. If I need to, I’ll call you into the station and I’ll do it without the slightest hesitation. The same is true if I need to arrest you. But the office of Yorgos Iliakos is another matter altogether. It belongs, so we were informed, to Jason Favieros.’
‘Who? The businessman who committed suicide?’ he asked innocently. ‘What connection does he have with the estate agency?’
I shot him a look as though my heart were filled with pity for him. ‘Come now. The Yorgos Iliakos Real Estate Agency and a very large number of other real-estate agencies belong to Balkan Prospect, which is a company owned by Jason Favieros. The tragedy that his family has suffered and the confusion that exists at present concerning the future of his businesses obliges us to be very cautious. You stand to benefit from that.’
‘Me, how?’
‘Because you were the one to draw up the contracts.’ I said it so definitively, as though I had verified it from ten different sources, and he didn’t dare deny it. ‘There are three possibilities, Mr Karyofyllis. First, that the Russo-
