“And you accepted that?”
“It’s common practice. Their bureaucracy moves slowly; it requires committed souls to force the issue. Tomas clearly over-stepped his authority, but the church would have made good on most of the cost. The rest would be my gift to them. It was a risk, but I was comfortable with it.”
The words rolled smoothly off his tongue, bits of truth spread out to cover the lies. In fact, the Snake had half convinced himself, before it all fell out, that he did mean to give the icon to the church. Eventually, when he had derived whatever good from it there was to get. He’d had the fake theft in the back of his mind even then, but it was not until Nicholas-loyal boy-had told him about this collector del Carros that Fotis realized he must move. Del Carros was planning some action with Nicholas and Anton’s former boss, a Russian named Karov. Anton and maybe Nicholas, too, were still in Karov’s pocket, and if del Carros had enough money, the Russians would betray him. Fotis used their greed against them. He paid them to steal the icon from him before they did it anyway for the South American, adding a hidden twist or two of his own. Dangerous, but it had worked, all except the wound to poor Nicholas, whom Fotis had not quite trusted enough to let in on the plan. Anton and the others Karov supplied were supposed to be out of the house well before Nicholas returned from dropping Fotis at the airport, but they must have been slow, and the dear, stupid boy had obviously tried to stop them.
“That all sounds convincing,” Matthew finally responded, pulling Fotis back to the present moment, “until Tomas and the icon vanish.”
“Tomas was stealing funds. It’s an unrelated matter.” Strange that the truth should sound so suspect.
“Well, then I guess that leaves just you.”
“You are forgetting Anton.”
“Do you deny that you’ve wanted the icon for sixty years? Since my Papou showed it to you during the war, before his brother hid it away? An hour, a few minutes, is all it took, am I right? And you were hooked for life. You had to have it.”
“Are you speaking of me,” Fotis replied, the insight striking him at once, “or yourself?”
“Yes,” Matthew nodded, undeterred, “I’ve felt it. That’s how I know.”
What was this? Was the boy a rival? Was this more serious than he had imagined, and could some use be made of it? But no, he mustn’t think that way; this was Matthew.
“I am tired now. We should speak again tomorrow.”
“What happened that night the church burned? Where were you? Why weren’t you with the men Andreas sent to retrieve the weapons?”
“So he has finally spoken of it.”
“Did you know Kosta would tell Stamatis where the icon was hidden, and that he would try to get it? Were you waiting for him to come out? Am I close?” Too damn close. The boy was relentless, never taking his eyes off Fotis. “Or maybe you sent Stamatis in yourself, and then he decided to double-cross you. Is that it?”
“You are growing disturbed, my child. You are creating fantasies. This business has become too much for you. It’s time to let it go.”
“Let it go?” With sudden, furious energy, Matthew swept the breakfast tray to the ground and leaned right over the other man.
“Let it go? How the hell am I supposed to do that? I’m up to my neck it in, and you led me there. You owe me these answers, you old bastard.”
Fotis became frightened; not of the boy, but of something, the broken fragments of truth beginning to reassemble. For a moment, he thought it was Andreas standing there above him.
“You all betrayed me,” he whispered, “all of you.”
“Who betrayed you? How?”
“One is going to trade it, the other sell it. Guns, money. Only I loved it for what it was, only I could keep it safe. You fool, don’t you see?” He grabbed Matthew’s shirt, and his face broke; the tears came. “Don’t you see, paidemou? Only I can keep it safe. Won’t you help me?”
The large silhouette of Taki appeared in the door, making them both turn, breaking the spell. Fotis shoved Matthew away weakly.
“I heard the noise,” said Taki, both fierce and bashful, looking at the scattered plates and cup on the floor.
“He was just leaving,” Fotis said hoarsely. “Show him out.”
Matthew sized up the larger man for a moment, then relaxed. There would be no struggle. He gave Fotis a long look-was it confusion, compassion, or something else entirely?-and then started for the door.
“My boy, wait,” said the Snake. The younger man stopped, Taki’s hand on his shoulder, but he did not turn back to look.
“Saturday night. The services at Saint Demetrios. You will accompany me? Please?”
Matthew glanced back at him briefly. “Sure,” he said. “Why not?”
“We will speak further about all this.”
But Matthew was already headed down the stairs.
15
The rain-dampened woods around the house produced a fine mist as the day warmed. The effect evoked a sense memory in Andreas that he could not quite grasp: a cove by the sea, a pale morning fog, and the desire to stay there upon that warm, wet ground where he’d slept-not pick up the rifle by his side, not rejoin his fellow soldiers, but simply stay there, disappear in the mist. When had it been, what had happened next? He could not say. Half a lifetime ago and more, before his brother died, before he’d met Maria, years before the son and grandson who so troubled him now had ever drawn their first breaths.
He had abandoned the heavy coat and hat and felt somehow exposed, even in the safety of his son’s backyard. Alex leaned upon the fence beside him, shaky, but under his own power, and stared out at the shadowy trunks.
“You couldn’t stop him from going?”
“I didn’t know,” Andreas answered. “He didn’t tell me.”
“The police will believe he’s involved now.”
“He is involved.”
“You know what I mean. That he and Fotis dreamed it up together. Everything. The theft also.”
“Let us hope they are wiser. His actions that day make no sense if he was an accomplice.”
“Why haven’t you gone after him?”
“He does not want my assistance.”
“You’re going to make him face the schemer alone?”
“He does not trust me, Aleko. You and Fotis have seen to that.” The younger man looked as if he would protest, but held his peace. “I too am responsible, of course,” Andreas amended.
“Did you speak to him?”
“About the icon, you mean? Yes. Too late, but we spoke.”
“It should have perished in that church. It would have saved everyone a
