And now you're asking me to sign a statement just to save my skin? Leave my brother out of it! He doesn't have anything to do with any of this! He's innocent!'
I stared at her and my mind went to Zissis. I wondered what he'd have done if he'd heard all that. How he would have reacted. She had a triumphant smirk on her lips. She thought she'd cut the ground from under me.
I opened the door and strode out.
CHAPTER 42
Impasse = 1. a situation in which progress is blocked. 2. an insurmountable difficulty. 3. stalemate. 4. deadlock.
The meaning given by Dimitrakos suited me to a T. Liddell & Scott, however, gave further meaning: without outlet; unable to get out; the infinite (Aristotle Physics 3.5.2). So, according to Aristotle, impasse also meant 'the infinite.' In other words, I, who had reached an impasse, was spinning in infinity in my quest to nail Sovatzis. Put more plainly, I was looking for a needle in a haystack.
It was six in the evening, the day after Christmas, and I was lying on my bed with my dictionaries. The previous day had passed fairly painlessly. I'd been invited for Christmas lunch by Michos, Adriani's cousin who worked for the telephone company. I hadn't wanted to go, but Adriani and Katerina had telephoned to insist. It would not have been right for me to have said no, they would have been offended, and, in any case, it had at least passed the day. We had eaten our turkey, had a jolly time, and, at around seven, Rena, Michos's wife, had taken it upon herself to teach me gin rummy. What I know about cards begins and ends with snap, but out of courtesy I decided to comply. At some point, I thought I'd mastered it and they cleaned me out. I got home after midnight and went out like a light. I hadn't had so much as five minutes to think about Sovatzis.
This morning, however, he was on my mind from the first pee of the day. I racked my brain trying to find some opening, some way to trap him, but there was no ray of light anywhere. All right, we had put an end to a trade in children. I even knew who had taken Hourdakis's place at customs. Someone by the name of Anastassiou. We could send them all to the public prosecutor. The chances of the prosecutor charging Dourou as an accessory before the fact were fifty-fifty. The accessory before the fact wasn't Dourou, it was Sovatzis, and he was still at large, and so was whoever murdered the two reporters.
Adriani had been right. I should have left everything, gone to Thessaloniki, and been with my daughter. By noon, I couldn't take it anymore. I got into the Mirafiori and started driving aimlessly. Without a conscious objective, I suddenly found myself in Rafina. I got out of the car and took a stroll along the waterfront. The sea air cleared my mind and I saw the situation as blacker still. Never mind Sovatzis, we were even in danger of Dourou being released if the statement by her assistant didn't convince the court. Given the organization they had, it was nothing for them to come up with a handful of Albanians who would claim that the kids at The Foxes were theirs. They might even bring the real parents from Albania. The more I thought about it, the lower my spirits sank. I went into a cafe to unwind. The noise, the buzz of the card players, the dice rolling on the backgammon boards made me forget my cares. I got home at around four and settled down to a long browse among my dictionaries.
I was poised between sitting in front of the TV and going to see a film when the phone rang. It was Zissis.
'How's the bachelor life?' he said.
'Great. I'm having a ball.'
He laughed. 'That's always how it is at first. You try to convince yourself that you're better off alone. You have your peace and quiet; you don't have to answer to anyone. But before too long the loneliness gets to you and you slip into despondency. Ask me about it. I'm an expert after all these years.'
I said nothing because I didn't want to admit that he was right.
'I made some roast goat in the oven yesterday, but I can't eat it all on my own. Do you feel like coming over and having a go at it with me?'
He took me unawares and I didn't know what to say. Okay, we knew each other and we helped each other out every so often, but it wasn't as if we were eating and drinking companions. I was about to say no, when suddenly I thought how difficult it must have been for him to invite me, how difficult it would be for him to have a police officer at his table, even one that he liked.
'I'11 come,' I said.
'When?'
'I can be there in an hour.'
'I've got a surprise for you,' he told me. 'A kind of gift.' And then he hung up.
The roads were empty and I arrived in Ekavis Street a quarter of an hour earlier than I had anticipated. I found him waiting for me at the door. He didn't let me get out of the car, but came and sat next to me.
'Where are we going?' I said. 'To the baker's to get the roast goat?'
'We're going for the surprise, but first I want you to promise me something.'
'What?'
'We're going to meet someone, but I want you to promise me that once you've talked to him you'll let him go. I gave him my word that as long as he was with me, he would not come to any harm.'
'Who is it? Sovatzis?'
'Sovatzis? What on earth made you think that? No, it's not Sovatzis.'
'And how do you know I'll keep my word?'
'I know,' he said with certainty. 'Take Dekelias Street and then turn onto Attalias Street. We're going to the AEK stadium.'
It wasn't far and there didn't seem to be anything to say on the way. When we got to the stadium, he told me to wait.
'I won't be long.' He got out and disappeared into the trees.
I tried to guess who he might be bringing to me, but my store of ideas had dried up. Presently he came back with a man, but I couldn't make him out in the darkness. As he got closer he began to look familiar. Then I recognized him: It was Kolakoglou.
They opened the doors and got into the car. Zissis in front, Kolakoglou in the back. He wasn't wearing any overcoat and was rubbing his sides to warm himself. He was wearing the same clothes he had been wearing when he was perched on the roof of the hotel with the gun to his head. He looked at me, suspicious and frightened.
'It's okay, Petros. There is no need to be frightened,' Zissis said. 'Mr. Haritos gave me his word. You'll say what you have to say and then you are free to go.'
'Why are you hiding?' I asked him.
'Because I'm afraid,' he said. 'I'm afraid that if I fall into your hands, you'll send me back to prison, and this time for murder.'
'Why should you go to prison? Did you kill Karayoryi?'
He laughed despite his fear. 'Do I look like a murderer to you?'
'That's beside the point. Most murderers don't look like murderers. The point is that after the trial you threatened her. You told her she'd pay for what she did to you.'
'That's not what I meant.'
'What did you mean?'
He fell silent. He wasn't sure he was doing the right thing by opening up to me, and he hesitated.
'Come on, say it and let's get it over with,' Zissis encouraged him. 'That's why you came'
'Karayoryi had a bastard child,' he said.
I don't know what I'd been trying to imagine while Zissis was gone, but that was one thing I'd never have thought of. I quickly tried to work out what new paths this bit of information opened up. 'Are you sure?' I asked him.
'I am.'
'And how did you find out about it?'
'Before I opened my own tax consultancy firm, I worked as an accountant for the Seamen's Pension Fund. One day, it must have been April 'seventy-four, a woman came wanting to take care of some contributions. She was accompanied by Karayoryi, who had a huge belly. She must have been ready to give birth.'
Without doubt, the woman must have been Antonakaki, her sister. She'd gone to take care of her contributions paid by her husband, who was a seaman, and Karayoryi had gone with her.
