By the time he realized that he'd walked into the trap, I was outside his office.
As I crossed the newsroom, some young reporters who were still at their desks turned and looked at me inquisitively. I walked out without paying any attention to them. I'd pressed the button for the elevator when, coming down the corridor, I saw Kostarakou.
'Hello,' she said rather formally and walked on past me. I let the elevator go and went after her.
'Are you sure that Karayoryi didn't say anything else to you on the phone?'
'I told you all I know this morning,' she said coldly. 'There's nothing more. Because of you, I got into hot water with Petratos.'
'Did you say anything to Petratos about the photograph I showed you?'
'Of course not. If I'd told him about the photograph as well, he'd have canned me on the spot, given the vile mood he was in.'
'If Karayoryi spoke to you on the phone about the story she was preparing, it would be better for you to tell me now, before it's too late.'
She didn't even trouble to reply. She shot me a poisonous look and walked off.
When I stepped out of the elevator, I ran into the backstreet marine. He puffed up his body, his arms and legs apart.
'Here again? Any developments?'
'Why do you always stand like that with your legs apart? Are you chapped?' I asked, and went off to find some souvlaki.
CHAPTER 17
'The profile fits at any rate.'
It was the first time he'd used the English word profile. I made a note to look it up later in the OED. It was nine-thirty in the morning and I was giving my report to Ghikas concerning Kolakoglou. He guessed that I hadn't understood 'profile' and was waiting to see how I'd react. But I was wise to what he meant-that Kolakoglou would do quite nicely for the murderer-and I began listing everything that didn't ring true. It didn't ring true that Kolakoglou had gone to the studio and risked being recognized. It didn't ring true that he'd have gone without a murder weapon if he'd gone to kill her. And I reminded him that Kolakoglou was not the only suspect.
'I know,' he said. 'We have the unknown N and his letters.'
'Did you know that Petratos's name is Nestor ... ?'
He studied me in silence. He was trying to connect the man in the photograph with the Nestor of the letters, and the two seemed to him to fit, just as they seemed to me to fit. 'Stay away from Petratos,' he said. 'You won't go near him unless you have enough incriminating evidence to convince me. I don't want to find myself at daggers drawn with the minister.'
His look stopped me in my tracks and I didn't dare to tell him about the conversation I'd had with Petratos the previous evening. If he found out that I'd asked him for a sample of his handwriting, he'd have my ass.
'Find Kolakoglou quickly and get him behind bars.'
This was a classic way for a superior to say to his subordinate: 'All right, I've listened to your bullshit, now do what you have to.' He wanted the tidy solution, just like Delopoulos, Petratos, the newscaster, and everybody else. No complications and no ministerial in terventions because of the involvement of upstanding citizens, etc. The reprobate was the easy solution. Always.
'The only incriminating evidence we have on Kolakoglou is that he threatened Karayoryi after the trial. What if he can prove that he was elsewhere at the time of the murder?'
'The alibi of a pederast with a criminal record doesn't hold water,' he said. 'When all's said and done, he should have spent six years in prison and he got away with three. It won't hurt him to spend another couple of weeks in jail. He's used to it.'
There was no point in arguing. I collected my papers and turned to leave.
'You still don't get it, do you?' I looked at him surprised, and without hiding the fact that he was amused by my foolishnes. 'Get Kolakoglou behind bars. Maybe he's the murderer, maybe not. We'll say that we're holding him for interrogation. Meanwhile, they'll publicize all the dirt on him. They'll rake up everything from the trial again and go knocking on the doors of the girls he raped to get interviews from them. If in the end Kolakoglou proves to be the murderer, then we come out and say that we owe our success to our valuable collaboration with the media and everybody will be happy. If it's not Kolakoglou, and we produce the real murderer, then they won't know where to turn first Either way, we come out smelling of roses.
You had to hand it to Ghikas! Now I know why he became chief and I remained a humble inspector. He rarely got a smile of admiration from me, but this time he deserved one. He saw it and laughed, obviously pleased with himself.
'As for Petratos, check him out, but at a distance. Discreetly,' he said generously because I'd made his day. 'And make sure you find out what profile means. In a few years' time, we'll all be using it.'
The herd of reporters was massing in the corridor, outside Koula's office, waiting. They'd got nothing out of me the previous day, and so they were now knocking on my boss's door hoping to get something out of him. Among them was Kostarakou, but she didn't add her gaze to the collective, provocative look that the others gave me. She avoided my eyes.
I told Thanassis to come in. We hadn't spoken since the previous evening and he looked at me as though frightened. He thought I was going to start on about his meeting with Karayoryi. As soon as I told him that I wanted a large-scale hunt to find Kolakoglou, that I wanted his photograph circulated and a call put out to all patrol cars and so on, he looked relieved, as if he'd just emptied his bowels after ten days of constipation. He was good at organizing. I also told him to find out where Kolakoglou's mother lived and to get me a car and backup ready.
'Will you require a search warrant, too?'
'As if I needed a search warrant to get into a pederast's house. That would take the cake!'
The croissant was on my desk, in its cellophane. I opened it and took a bite. Souvlaki at night, croissant in the morning. I wondered when they'd serve souvlaki wrapped in croissant with tzatziki, tomato, and onion. I recalled some paintings depicting war chiefs in the court of King Otto, dressed in fustanellas with their dress coats over the top. The profile fitted, as Ghikas might say.
I bit into the croissant and addressed the pile of documents on my desk. I began with Markidis's report. Nothing new there, other than that Karayoryi had eaten approximately two hours before her death, which confirmed what Thanassis had said. The murder had taken place between eleven and twelve. I knew that too. I put the coroner's report aside and looked over the files from Karayoryi's computer. I didn't find anything of interest there either. Articles, interviews, and ideas for topics. There was nothing in them about Kolakoglou. Nothing among her papers either. How the hell could she be investigating something and not keep any notes? I reached the bottom of the pile as the telephone rang.
'Haritos.'
'Haritou,' I heard a girl's voice say, laughing. It was Katerina.
Katerina didn't have a phone in the house where she lived and so we weren't able to call her. When she called us, it was usually at night. It was very rare for her to call me at the office. Every time she did call me, I was immediately filled with worry that something had happened to her.
'How's things, Daddy?' She sounded happy, carefree.
'As always, love. Too much work. How come you're calling me in the morning? Is anything wrong?' I thought it better to make sure. 'Nothing's wrong, I'm fine. I phoned Mum at home first and she told me you had had a scrap again.'
If I'd had Adriani in front of me, I'd have given her what for. What did she mean by upsetting the girl? When you're a long way away, everything seems bigger than it is.
'Come on, Daddy. You know how she is. She's alone, I'm away, and she's always on edge. She flares up at the slightest thing.'
'You don't have to tell me. But sometimes she gets my back up with her ingratitude.'
'She's a bit touchy, but don't pay any attention to her. Make it up. I can't bear knowing that you've had a fight and you're not speaking.'
'All right. I'll make an effort.' I said it halfheartedly, because I'd made a whole strategic plan to find a little peace and now I was going to have to retreat in disarray. But I couldn't say no to Katerina.
