“It’s my way of organizing a case.” Dial had assembled it the night before while trying to digest his authentic Greek dinner. His project was finished long before his indigestion had disappeared. “Some people prefer computers. But not me. I’m old-school when it comes to investigations. I like seeing everything in front of me all at once. I like having the freedom to shift things around as the pieces fall into place. It helps me see the big picture.”
Andropoulos pointed at the board. “Is this what you wanted me to see?”
Dial nodded. “If you’re going to be my translator at Mount Athos, I need to make sure we’re on the same page.”
“In that case, you’d better walk me through everything.”
Dial started with the index card at the top of the board. On it he had written the numbers one through seven, followed by the names of the monks who had been identified by the police. “So far we know about four monks, not including the one who kept his head. Each of them is from a different country, right?”
“That is correct. Russia, Turkey, Bulgaria, and Greece.”
“Seems kind of strange, doesn’t it? That monks from four different countries were having a secret meeting in the middle of the night in a place as isolated as Meteora.”
“Very strange.”
“I have a feeling it’s going to get even stranger. In fact, I’d be willing to bet you that the remaining three monks are from different countries as well.”
“Countries with ties to the Orthodox Church.”
Dial smiled. “Exactly.”
“Yet you don’t think this meeting was about religion.”
“My gut tells me no. And after talking to my colleague at Interpol, I’m even more confident than before.”
“Why is that, sir?”
Dial pointed to a small map that was thumbtacked to the bottom of his board. It showed the geography of Greece and several surrounding countries. “Originally, I had assumed that the seat of the Greek Orthodox Church would be in Greece. Nope, stupid me. It turns out the Ecumenical Patriarchate is located in Istanbul.”
“The Patriarchate is in Turkey? I thought it was in Athens.”
“That’s what I assumed, too. But it’s not.”
Andropoulos stared at the map. “And why is that important?”
“If this diverse group of monks was having an official meeting about church doctrine, where would it be held?”
“In Istanbul.”
“And if they were having an unofficial meeting, where would they go?”
“Probably Athens.”
Dial nodded. “Makes sense to me. Major airport. Centrally located. A very solid choice.”
“But they chose here instead.”
“Exactly. Which makes no sense at all. Why arrange a meeting in the middle of the night on top of a mountain unless you had a specific reason to do it?”
“Such as?”
Dial tapped Andropoulos on his chest. “See, that’s a question right there that needs to be answered. Once we figure that out, all of this other stuff will start to fall into place.”
Andropoulos nodded as he returned his attention to the bulletin board. Underneath the index card with the names of the dead monks, Dial had tacked two additional cards. One said
“Tell me, Marcus, what does Nicolas have in common with the Spartans?”
He gave it some thought. “Both of them are Greek.”
Dial grimaced. “And so are you, but what does that have to do with anything?”
“I don’t know. I just-”
“Come on, Marcus, use your head. Don’t waste your time on superficial bullshit. Focus on what’s important. Why would I place those two cards right next to each other?”
“Because they’re connected.”
“Right. And how are they connected?”
Andropoulos stared at the cards, struggling to find the link.
“Look at the card above. How do the dead monks connect to Nicolas and the Spartans?”
“Well,” he said, trying to talk his way through the process, “we don’t think that Nicolas is a Spartan, so we can rule that out.”
“Go on.”
“Actually, we aren’t quite sure who Nicolas is. Or why he was there.”
“But . . .”
“But . . . somehow he knew.”
Dial smiled. “Knew what?”
“Nicolas
“Not only that,” Dial added, “Nicolas knew about the abbot’s death before we did. That means he knew the time, the place, and the guest list. That’s an awfully large chunk of information for someone to possess.”
“Which is why we’re going to Mount Athos. To look for Nicolas.”
Dial nodded. “Admittedly, the odds are pretty slim that we’ll find the guy. Mount Athos is large, and Nicolas probably looks like half the monks there. Still, I think it’s worth our time and effort. Especially after I saw that old photo of him at Holy Trinity. That cinched the trip for me.”
“Why, sir? Why is that picture so important?”
“Let me show you,” Dial said as he removed the photograph from a plastic sleeve designed to protect it. Theodore, the monk from the library, had been kind enough to lend it to them for their investigation. “Look at the people in this picture. What do they have in common?”
“Most of them are dead.”
“And how do you know that?”
“The picture was taken four decades ago, and the monks were already old back then.”
“Define old,” Dial ordered. “And you’d better watch your word choice.”
“Sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to imply-”
Dial pointed to the oldest monk in the photo. “How old do you think he was?”
“I don’t know. Maybe seventy.”
“And what about this guy here?”
“Early sixties.”
“And this one?”
“Fifties.”
“Noticing a pattern?”
Andropoulos nodded. “Their ages are staggered.”
“Exactly. Seven monks, each of them born several years apart. Kind of interesting, huh?”
“In what way, sir?”
Dial sighed. He thought his point was rather obvious. “Take a look at the bulletin board.”
“Okay.”
He pointed to a single photo. Seven heads were stacked in a pyramid in the secret passageway underneath Holy Trinity. “Ignore the blood and the brutality. Focus on the faces. What can you tell me about these monks?”
Andropoulos stared at the image, trying to figure out the answer that Dial was looking for. Several seconds passed before it came to him. “The monks were different ages.”
“Exactly! Seven monks with staggered ages. Where have we seen that before?”
“In the other picture.”
“Not only that, but the abbot was in each one. He was a young monk in the old photo and the old monk in the new photo. Somehow I doubt that’s a coincidence.”
“I don’t get it, sir. Why would they stagger the ages?”
