intervene in the administration of Panagia Evangelistria and the clergy hired to exercise religious duties in Panagia Evangelistria are employed and paid for by the Foundation, not by the state as with other Greek clergy.
“The Foundation derives its income mainly from donations, the performance of ritual celebrations and rites, legacies from deceased donors, the sale of offerings, and rents from properties.”
“Are you saying the Greek Church has no say in what the Foundation does with its money?” said Andreas.
“Essentially, yes.”
“That must make the Greek Church really happy.”
“Same answer, ‘essentially yes.’ The Foundation’s aims include religious, and we support pious clergymen and their families in need when there is no one else to help, and many of the clergy we helped have risen to positions of influence in the Greek Church. The Foundation also makes significant voluntarily contributions to the clergy’s pension fund and insurance, supports missionary activities outside of Greece, maintains and supports all of Tinos’ church organizations and parishes, and assists churches all over Greece affected by calamities. And our non- religious aims are in keeping with the good works of the Greek Church.”
Andreas caught himself nodding at the thought of how adept the Foundation was at keeping the Greek Church happy.
“We have supported our country in times of need, but also provided aid to those beyond our borders affected by natural disasters and war. On Tinos we have built or subsidized practically every school and related facility, granted college scholarships to poor but promising students no matter where in the world they chose to study, offered financial aid to the poor, sick, old, and incapable of working, created an old people’s home, helped finance the hospital, offered dowries to indigent girls, and supported the poor nuns of Saint Pelagia’s Kechrovouni Monastery.
“Most people outside of Tinos don’t realize all that we do for our island. In order for the Foundation to do its good works we rely upon the continuing generosity of our visitors and pilgrims, so the Foundation does what it must to make their stays pleasant. The Foundation has been behind most major public works projects on Tinos. In 1926 we funded the creation of an aqueduct system to replace the island’s reliance on wells, and thirty-five years later financed a new water distribution system. We’re responsible for the large avenues connecting Panagia Evangelistria to other parts of town, and in one way or another financed virtually every significant road-building project on the island. Major funding for Tinos’ man-made port and modern quay came from the Foundation, as did much of the funding for the power plant and high-tension distribution network bringing electricity to most of the island. Plus, we constructed hostels for pilgrims and help pay for many public services, such as fire fighting. The list of what the Foundation does for Tinos is endless.”
“Is there any part of life on Tinos not touched by the Foundation?” said Andreas.
“You mean that matters?” she smiled.
“ Touche.”
“The Foundation tries to be low-key. Its purposes are good works. And everyone connected with the Foundation knows that everything we have we owe to the Holy Virgin.”
“You mean the Megalochari,” said Andreas. “I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but without the holy icon Panagia Evangelistria would be just another church, impressive yes, but no longer a major draw for pilgrims and their offerings.”
Eleni started to say something, but Andreas put up his hand to stop her. “Honest, I respect what the Foundation does, but it’s all based on one very real and portable holy icon.” Andreas cleared his throat. “And that makes your church the target for what we have reason to believe is some very serious harm planned by some very bad guys.”
Eleni raised her voice, “What are you talking about?”
Andreas looked at Tassos. “Can we trust her?”
“Stop being cute, Chief Inspector.”
“I stopped being cute years ago. I just want to know if you feel obligated to tell your boss or the commission what I’m prepared to tell you?”
“Depends.”
“‘Depends’ doesn’t work for me. I need an absolute ‘no,’ at least until we get a better handle on what’s going on.”
“How can I agree to keep a secret like that from my boss if it’s as important as you say?”
“Trust me, it is important. But if you tell your boss, he’ll tell my boss, and that will end any chance your uncle and I will find out what’s supposed to happen before it does. All I can tell you is that whatever is planned is serious enough to get two men incinerated.”
“Are you saying the murder of those two tsigani brothers was related to a plot against our church?”
“I certainly wouldn’t bet against it.”
Eleni looked at Tassos. “What should I do, uncle?”
“I’ll tell you what I always say when someone asks me that question. But this time I actually believe it. ‘I think it’s best for you and everyone who might get hurt that you tell us what you know before it’s too late for us to help.’”
Eleni bit at her lower lip. “Do you really think there’s something to this?”
“Enough for us to be here,” said Tassos.
Eleni ran her fingers through her hair. “Okay, Chief Inspector, I promise not to tell anyone, including my boss, until you say it’s okay.”
Andreas looked at Tassos. Tassos nodded.
Andreas said, “We understand that recently an unusually high number of metanastes have come here looking for work and are willing to do so for whatever wage gets them the job.”
“There are a lot of new faces working on the island these days but I have no idea what they’re paid. At the Foundation we employ mostly Tinians in our office but there are many metanastes working on our construction projects. After all, it seems they’re the only ones willing to do hard labor these days.”
Andreas smiled. “For the time being. So, how are offerings to the church holding up in these times of crisis?”
“Not sure why that’s relevant, but I can tell you that in hard times many seek out the Megalochari who otherwise might not.”
“It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me numbers. After all, it doesn’t take a genius to count the people crowding daily into Panagia Evangelistria, multiply that by an estimated average value per offering, and conclude that there’s serious wealth passing to the church every day. And since much of what’s being offered is in the form of precious metals and gems, there has to be a place to store it all. Not every offering can stay draped around the Megalochari. The pile would reach the roof. And then there are all those offerings of oil and candles to contend with.”
Andreas shook his head. “Remember that transient foreign thief you talked about who took a shot at stealing the icon?” Andreas tapped his right index finger on the table. “At this very moment you have an island filled with transient bad guys who I can assure you are lot worse than that first Megalochari thief ever was. And I can also promise you that whatever escape plan they have in mind won’t have them hanging around Tinos waiting to make a deal with local sailors.”
“What do you want from me?” said Eleni.
“I need to know what’s valuable enough in your church to get two human beings who claimed to know about a plan to rob Panagia Evangelistria murdered in a way that made a very public point.” Andreas decided not to mention the third dead brother. The woman was already alarmed enough.
“What point?” said Eleni.
“Wish I knew. Then I wouldn’t be bothering you as much as I am for help.”
“The Megalochari is, of course, our most priceless treasure but it is also worthless to anyone trying to sell it.”
“Not so,” said Tassos also gesturing no with his head. “There are mega-rich collectors out there holding priceless missing treasures in secret collections. They’d pay a fortune for the holy icon.”
“Plus any number of rich nuts out there, religious and otherwise, who’d love to have the power of the Megalochari all to themselves,” said Andreas. “And let’s not forget ransom. Can you imagine what the Foundation
