Tassos started. 'I thought it best we talk here, away from all the curious eyes and ears in my office.'
Andreas kept swiveling. 'How are we ever going to keep this quiet?'
Tassos fluttered his lips as he exhaled. 'Don't know. Certainly not for long.'
Andreas stopped swiveling, leaned forward, and put his forearms on the desk. 'When it gets out we're looking for a serial killer, all hell's going to break loose. There'll be a thousand reporters here making it impossible to catch the bastard.'
'I know.' Tassos nodded. 'So far, only Costas, you, and I know about this — and he won't say a word — but, if we don't catch the guy soon, someone's going to put things together and' — he slapped his hands against the chair arms — 'BOOM!'
Andreas grinned at the sound. 'Is that meant to be our careers?' He lifted his arms and leaned back in the chair. 'You know, the press will cut off our balls if we don't go public now with what we have.' He paused. 'And, come to think of it, don't you have to tell your boss?' For an instant, Andreas felt as if he were warning his father to be careful of cop politics.
Tassos closed his eyes. 'We've worked together for many years. He trusts me not to tell him what I think he'd prefer not to know officially. This is one of those things — at least for now.' He opened his eyes. 'Besides, Chief, the murders occurred in your jurisdiction, and haven't you insisted on taking full responsibility for their investigation?' He smiled.
Well, so much for worrying about him, thought Andreas. Here was a political master offering Andreas what he wanted if he were willing to pay the price of assuming the political risk.
Andreas nodded. 'Yes, but God help us if another woman's murdered.' He paused. 'I think we should go public with a physical description of the dead woman — it might make tall blonds more careful.'
'And mention the crystal meth.'
Andreas nodded again. 'That too.' He hoped they were doing the right thing.
Tassos asked, 'What about asking Athens for help with a serial-killer specialist?'
Andreas gave a quick upward nod of his head — the Greek way of gesturing no. 'There aren't any in Greece. Remember, we've never had a serial killer here, so no one's a specialist. We'd have to contact Interpol, and you know what that means.'
'So much for keeping things quiet.' Tassos patted the chair arms.
'We'll have to do our own research.' Andreas opened his center desk drawer.
'How do we do that?' Tassos sounded surprised.
'The same way everyone else does these days, on the Internet.' He lifted some papers out of the drawer.
Tassos waved a hand in the air. 'You must be kidding.'
'There's a lot out there. Here, take a look.' Andreas handed him one of the papers. Across the top it read, 'Characteristics of a Serial Killer.'
Tassos looked at the list:
1. Over 90 percent male.
2. Tend to be intelligent
3. Do poorly in school, have trouble holding down jobs, and often work as unskilled laborers.
4. Tend to come from decidedly unstable families.
5. Abandoned by their fathers as children and raised by domineering mothers.
6. Families often have criminal, psychiatric, and alcoholic histories.
7. Hate their fathers and mothers.
8. Psychological, physical, and sexual abuse as child is common — often by a family member.
9. Many have spent time in institutions as children and have records of early psychiatric problems.
10. High suicide-attempt rates.
11. Many intensely interested from an early age in voyeurism, fetishism, and sadomasochistic pornography.
12. More than 60 percent wet their beds beyond age of 12.
13. Many are fascinated with starting fires. 14. Involved with sadistic activity or tormenting small creatures.
Andreas put the other papers on his desk. 'An FBI agent named Ressler came up with that list. There's a lot more, but this gives you the general idea.'
'Why do I have the feeling we're trying to teach ourselves brain surgery?' Tassos reread the list.
Andreas waited until he finished. 'I don't know what else to do. Do you know anyone we can ask for help we can trust to keep quiet?'
Tassos nodded no. 'But how long do you think we can go on like this' — he waved the paper in the air — 'before getting some real help?'
Andreas shrugged. 'Let's play it by ear until one of us feels we have to go public.'
Tassos stared at him. 'All I'm risking is forced early retirement, but you…' He left the thought hanging.
Andreas looked down at his desk. 'I know what you're about to say.'
Tassos shrugged. 'I really liked your dad and thought he got a raw deal, but if the press gets pissed off at you, they'll be screaming…' Again he hesitated.
Andreas finished Tassos' sentence without looking up, ''Like father, like son'?' He didn't wait for an answer. 'I really don't like talking about this…' Andreas was surprised he'd made that admission to a stranger. 'But I'll give you an answer.'
He lifted his eyes and stared directly at Tassos. 'I'm not going to stop doing what I think's right out of fear that the press might come after me like they did my father.' They'd done more than just come after him — they'd crucified him — but Andreas had no intention of discussing it further. Besides, everyone from Tassos' era on the force knew all the details — up to and including the suicide.
Neither man spoke.
Andreas leaned forward and broke the tension. 'Anything new?'
Tassos noticeably relaxed in his chair. 'We've positively identified the dead body from dental records as the woman in the photo I faxed you, Helen Vandrew. Her parents are on their way to Greece to claim the body.'
Silence.
Tassos continued. 'The other three bodies probably were bound the same as Vandrew.'
Andreas looked surprised. 'How could you tell?'
'The twine.' He folded the list and put it in his pocket.
'Twine?'
'Costas found deteriorated bits of hemp in the crypt that match the approximate age of the bones.'
'He found twine that old?' Andreas gave a nodding look of admiration.
Tassos nodded with him. 'The crypt was dry and the twine the heavy-duty, commercial stuff farmers use. It's made to survive all kinds of weather.'
'Any idea where it came from?'
'Not yet, but doubt that would help much. It's sold all over the world. Nothing unique about it.'
Andreas let out a breath. 'All bound the same way… all killed in a church…' His voice drifted off. 'The killer has to be acting out some sort of religious ritual — but what kind of ritual ever involved human sacrifice in Greece?'
Tassos shrugged. 'There's always our myths. Look at Euripides' or Homer's account of Agamemnon.'
Andreas shook his head. 'I can't believe some myth about a king sacrificing his daughter so that the gods would send wind for his sailing ships is behind this.'
'But a woman was at the center of the myth. They were warships sailing to Troy to rescue Helen.' Tassos said the words without emotion.
Andreas said, 'I just don't see it — two Helens or not — but who the hell knows. We're trying to figure out what twisted thinking is driving a crazy.' He shook his head again and drummed the fingers of his right hand on his desk. 'What about the drugs?'
Tassos lifted and dropped his hands. 'Crystal meth? It must have something to do with getting his victim sexually excited. I don't have to tell you how tough that'll be to trace. It's everywhere. If we had a suspect, I could
