absolutely nothing in Greece. There wasn't even an illegal export of currency involved.
This was all very well, but why would they murder Karayoryi and Kostarakou, supposing it was they who'd killed them? And why hadn't Dourou given out her address or number? Possibly so that she wouldn't get into any mess with the relatives if the patients died. But why had Karayoryi paid someone to supply her with the case records of the trade in children from the files of security headquarters? What connection was there between the transplants and the children? I was missing a piece of the puzzle.
Then I suddenly remembered where I'd seen Dourou's name. I again took out Karayoryi's file from the drawer and began searching through the photocopies. In one of these, Karayoryi had noted in the margin the name Eleni Dourou.
I called Mrs. Antonakaki and told her I wanted to see her.
'All right, but don't come before seven because I'll be out.'
Outside, a north wind was howling. It had knocked two plant pots over on the balcony opposite. The old woman came out to pick them up. The cat was inside the house watching her through the open door. She must be mad to go out into the freezing cold for the sake of two wretched potted plants!
CHAPTER 31
She opened the door to me dressed in black.
'I'd gone to see about Yanna's headstone,' she said, as if feeling the need to justify her going out while she was in mourning.
I sat on the sofa, in the same spot where I'd sat the first time. I was tired and was in no mood for chitchat.
'Mrs. Antonakaki, did you ever hear your sister mention anyone by the name of Pylarinos? Christos Pylarinos?'
'Isn't he the one who has the travel agencies? We went on a trip organized by his agency.'
'When was that?'
'End of August, beginning of September, 1990.'
'Was your sister with you?'
'Yes. There was Yanna, me, and Anna. Yanna had promised Anna that if she got into medical school, she'd take her on a trip as a present. We went to Vienna, Budapest, and Prague. For ten days.' The memory upset her. She sniffed and her lip began to tremble. 'I'll never forget that trip. It wasn't enough that we had guided tours all day long; Yanna wanted us to go out in the evenings too. I tried to restrain her, partly because I was tired and partly because I saw her spending money right and left. But my sister always did whatever she wanted'
'Apart from that trip, did you ever hear your sister mention Pylarinos?'
'No, never. Though I know she went twice more, after the trip we took together.'
'When would those journeys have been?'
'The first time was in the winter. February, I think. And the sec and one was in May. But I couldn't tell you whether she went through Pylarinos's agency.'
'On the trip that you went on together, did anything out of the ordinary occur? Anything that might have attracted your attention.'
'Nothing. We were together all the time and had a lot of fun.' She stopped, as if remembering something. 'Apart from two mornings in Prague, when she went off to do her own work.'
'What work was that?'
'I don't know. She didn't tell me'
'And she never said anything to you about Pylarinos?'
'No, never.'
'Okay, Mrs. Antonakaki. That's all I needed to know.'
As I was starting up the Mirafiori, it occurred to me that I should have another look through the folder with Karayoryi's receipts. To see if there were any clues about those trips. It wasn't unlikely that she'd discovered something on her first trip, quite by chance, and had started investigating. In 1990, she'd stumbled on the relationship between Pylarinos and the two foreigners in the photograph and then had made two other trips to get more information. Dourou was the key. If I could only find her, I might start getting somewhere with Pylarinos.
The TV was on in the living room and the picture showed the back of someone's head. The voice coming out was that of a young girl. Her words were confused, faltering, and came out sharply, as though someone was forcing them out, one by one:
'He used to buy me clothes ..:'
'What sort of clothes?'
'Blouses ... skirts ...'
'And then?'
'He'd take me to his home. . .'
'What did you do there?'
'He'd dress me in the new clothes ...'
'Did he do anything else to you?'
'He would look at me.'
'Only that?'
'He told me that I was a pretty little girl ... and he touched me. . .'
'Where did he touch you?'
'On my hair ... my arms ... my legs, sometimes, not always ...'
'Just that?'
'Yes.'
The back of the girl's head vanished from the screen and in its place appeared Sotiropoulos's face, grave, expressionless. His eyes, however, had a glint in them. Two fireflies, behind round glasses.
'Ladies and gentlemen, a man was sentenced to six years in prison on the basis of only a journalist's report and the allegations made by two sets of parents,' he said with the look of someone unraveling a massive travesty of justice. 'I'm not saying that he was convicted unjustly, but without doubt the charge of indecent assault of a juvenile is open to question. The fact that Kolakoglou's tax consultancy firm passed into the hands of the parents of the two alleged victims also leaves questions to be asked. I couldn't say whether that is of any significance in the case. Maybe yes, maybe no. At any rate, today Kolakoglou is a wanted man. If he weren't living under the burden of his conviction, it is almost certain that no one would be seeking to arrest him.' He allowed a moment to pass, then added in a meaningful tone: 'We reporters are sometimes prey to excessive zeal and are sometimes blind to its consequences.'
Catalytic, that's what Robespierre was. Adriani could bear it no more and pressed the remote control. 'What's he up to? Is he trying to pretend Kolakoglou is an innocent lamb?' She was furious.
'No. He's simply trying to discredit Petratos and the rival Hellas Channel.'
'And is that the right way to do it?'
I wanted to change the subject. I was in no mood to discuss Kolakoglou, Petratos, or Sotiropoulos in my own home. 'I spoke to Katerina,' I told her.
'Well, you should have heard her on the phone when I told her that I was going up to Thessaloniki. Just like a baby girl.' She looked at me furtively. 'Couldn't you come too for Christmas? It falls on a weekend this year.'
I bit my lip to stop myself from saying yes. 'It's impossible. I can't leave while this case is still open. Something might come up and I'd have to run back.' It wasn't only the case. It was the cost of the trip and the hotel because we couldn't all stay at Katerina's place. Then I'd have to borrow money to send her in January.
Fortunately, my tone was categorical and Adriani didn't persist. Before we sat down to eat, the phone rang. Adriani answered. 'Someone called Zissis,' she whispered, and handed me the receiver.
'Greetings, Lambros:'
'I have to see you. You know Hara's, the confectioner's that sells homemade ice cream at the end of Patission Street?'
'Yes.'
'I'll be waiting for you there in half an hour and you can buy me an ice cream,' he said and hung up.
I told Adriani I wouldn't have anything to eat as I had to go out again. In any case, my stomach still hadn't
