‘I was indoors and managed to avoid it.’
‘You were lucky. Some woman called for you.’
‘Who?’
‘I don’t know, she didn’t leave a name.’
‘Did you ask her?’
She put down the iron and looked at me with that high and mighty expression of hers that she always adopts when she’s about to make some caustic remark. ‘I thought that was why you brought Koula round here, to act as your secretary.’
‘I took her home so she wouldn’t get drenched in the rain.’
‘It’s a wonder you even thought of it. As for the woman who called, don’t worry yourself. If it’s serious, she’ll call back.’
I let her think she had reduced me to silence and I went into the sitting room to call Ghikas. I gave him a general update concerning my meeting with the Prime Minister’s adviser.
‘You handled it well,’ he said pleased. ‘Let him go on believing that you’re looking for evidence to incriminate the right-wing nationalists.’
Then I told him about the likelihood that Favieros was doing business with Stefanakos’s wife. There was a silence. When he spoke again, his voice sounded troubled.
‘If what you say turns out to be true, then I’m afraid we have the worst possible case scenario on our hands.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Murder, not by a pistol or knife, but by suicide. And how can you prove that and bring out into the open what’s hidden behind it?’
His argument was so solid that I hesitated momentarily. ‘Shall I go on investigating?’
‘Yes, perhaps we can prevent another suicide from happening.’
I hung up and racked my brains trying to decide where I would go from there. I had to find a discreet way of coming into contact with Lilian Stathatos, Stefanakos’s wife. I could simply pay her a visit, but if she didn’t have direct access to the Prime Minister, she would most certainly have access to his advisers and so it would get out that I wasn’t looking for evidence about the extreme rightists but about the relationship between her and Favieros.
Adriani was right, because the woman called back just as we were about to sit down for dinner. It was Coralia Yannelis.
‘Could we meet tomorrow, Inspector?’
‘Of course. At your office?’ I was trying to prevent her from suggesting that we met in my office at Security Headquarters given that it was temporarily occupied.
‘Do you mind coming to the Domitis offices? Mr Zamanis would like to be present.’
We arranged to meet at ten the following day. That phone call was the last thing I wanted. It could be something quite innocuous, on the other hand it could open up new wounds.
The sky was crystal clear, and the trees in Athens would have been smelling sweetly if there were any. This time, I myself was driving the Mirafiori and I was on my way to Domitis Construction. I had left Koula at home because I thought that Favieros’s heavy artillery executives might not be so ready to open up with her there. I had briefed her on what Sotiropoulos had told me the previous day and had asked her to investigate Stathatos’s companies to find me some evidence.
The fifty-year-old woman in reception recognised me immediately. She was still not wearing any make-up but was slightly more cheerful and had a hint of a smile.
‘They’re expecting you, Inspector. Just a moment while I inform them that you’re here.’
Favieros’s photo was still hanging in the same place, but without the black ribbon. Also absent were the wreaths on the floor.
It wasn’t Aristopoulos, Koula’s informant, who came to take me, but a blonde girl of around twenty. We went up to the third floor, crossed the bridge of sighs and arrived at Zamanis’s office.
In contrast to the fifty-year-old woman in reception, the fifty-year-old number two, Zamanis’s private secretary, was noticeably cool. She greeted me with a faint nod of her head and opened the door to her boss’s office to allow me in.
Unsmiling, Zamanis held out his hand to me without getting to his feet. On the contrary, Yannelis smiled at me. Yet, despite the smile, the whole atmosphere, from the secretary outside and all the way to Zamanis, was overcast indicating stormy weather. Zamanis told me to take a seat and my weather forecast was confirmed.
‘When you came to see me, Inspector, you told me that you were carrying out a discreet and unofficial investigation into the reasons behind Jason Favieros’s suicide.’
He was looking down and reading from a sheet of paper. Evidently, he had had his secretary write down what we had said in order to be able to remember it. The paper, his upright bearing and his suit made me think of an interrogator about to pin me to the wall on the basis of my previous statement.
‘Precisely,’ I answered calmly.
‘You told me the same thing,’ Yannelis added.
‘That’s right. I told you both the truth.’
‘And do you believe that the reasons behind Jason’s suicide are to be found in the Balkan Prospect estate agencies?’
I shrugged. ‘When you’re searching in the dark, Mrs Yannelis, you leave no stone unturned. Naturally, sometimes you discover things you weren’t expecting, but it’s precisely for that reason that you look under every stone.’ I had a little dig myself, but neither of them seemed particularly impressed.
‘You won’t find anything,’ Zamanis said, continuing in the same tone of voice. ‘All you have succeeded in doing is to upset various people without reason and create a stir which is highly damaging.’
‘The stir may be damaging, but the various people have every reason to be worried. What has come to the surface, entirely by chance, is a series of suspicious property deals.’
‘Only a sick mind could find those deals suspicious. Neither Jason’s background as a leftist, nor his standing as a businessman would allow him to involve himself in suspicious dealings.’
He was making a frontal attack, using his heavy artillery to demolish my arguments. Jason Favieros was a committed leftist and consequently he couldn’t possibly be involved in scams at the expense of poor immigrants. Jason Favieros was a businessman of high repute and consequently he wouldn’t risk getting involved in suspicious property deals.
‘I didn’t say that Favieros was personally involved in suspicious property deals. Perhaps certain executives in his estate agencies had been making money on the side. At least in the case of Leventoyanni, there had undoubtedly been some collusion between the manager of the estate agency and the public notary. Who knows what I may find if I dig a little deeper.’
‘You won’t find anything involving Balkan Prospect,’ Yannelis said, interrupting. ‘I explained that to you when you came to see me. Our network is an extremely loose one. The local agencies make their own decisions concerning the transactions. Balkan Prospect bears no responsibility.’
‘But you told me that you examine the contracts.’
‘Only as to the legal side of the transaction, not the money exchanged. And apart from that, I don’t see how any of this can possibly be connected with Jason’s suicide.’
It wasn’t, and because it wasn’t, I was fishing in the hope of finding a lead somewhere else so that Yanoutsos wouldn’t get his hands on my job.
‘Don’t waste your time trying to understand, Coralia,’ Zamanis said ironically to Yannelis. ‘The Inspector is not interested in discovering the reasons behind Jason’s suicide. All he wants is to tarnish his name. That’s always been the favourite sport of the police.’
In other words, to tarnish the reputation of leftists. That’s what Zissis used to say and I respected his opinion. But Favieros was not Zissis.
