hillsides. It was his fourth of the day and so far so good — if not finding anything but very old bones was good. His fourth church of the afternoon was on the southeast part of the island, not far from some of Mykonos' most popular beaches. Sooner or later developers would bring a lot of company to this isolated tribute to Saint Fanourios. For the time being, though, it sat on deserted ground — the same as the three others he'd visited today honoring Saint Nicholas, Saint Barbara, and Saint Phillipos.
All four churches were several hundred years old. Andreas had been told that some went back to the 1500s, maybe even earlier, depending on who you talked to. Whatever their age, all were recently whitewashed, and their doors and shutters functioned properly. The roof of one could have used a paint job, but for the most part, they'd been kept up — just as Father Paul had said.
This church looked about the same as the other three: a bell tower above a west-facing blue door, one blue shuttered window on each side wall, a sacristy on the inside along the east wall, and a stone slab in the middle of a hard-packed floor. Newer churches built of concrete had hollow spaces in their walls for accommodating individual remains or steps beneath a floor slab leading to a cellar with places for the same purpose, but these old ones had only mass crypts in the floor — like the one where they found the Vandrew body. Aside from honoring different saints, the only real difference Andreas saw in any of them was that the church where they had found her was built of natural stone and never whitewashed. He wondered if that was somehow a clue.
He carefully examined the floor for anything that seemed out of place. Nothing looked unusual. He stood by the end of the slab nearest the door and gripped its edge. He took a deep breath to calm himself and forced a smile at the thought of how he was getting used to all this grave tampering. As he braced himself to pull at the slab, anxiety gripped the pit of his stomach — as it had each time before. If, God forbid, there weren't just old bones under here, he didn't know how they'd possibly keep things quiet. Another forensic team gathering bones from under another quaint Mykonos church was too much for the media to miss.
He wondered if he was up to handling the pressure of the press if it turned on him for doing what he thought was right. His father hadn't been. But he'd been set up and forced to choose between watching his family's reputation destroyed and… 'Damn it,' Andreas said aloud. 'Stop thinking about that.'
He pulled at the slab until it moved enough for light from the doorway to shine into the crypt. He stared in for a moment, then walked outside and lit a cigarette. He took a puff, exhaled, and began to gag. He caught himself, took another deep breath, and wondered if he felt this way because of all the pressure he'd been under and those recurring thoughts of his father. That had to be part of the reason — that and the almost fully decomposed body he'd just found on a pile of not-so-old bones.
9
Andreas knew the mayor would not be pleased being summoned to the office of the chief of police. Dropping in once on his own for a visit was quite different from Andreas requesting his immediate presence. Still, Andreas had no choice but to insist; too many ears listened and tongues wagged in the mayor's office. Besides, by the time Tassos and Andreas were done with him, bruises to the mayor's ego would be the least of their worries.
Andreas wanted to inform the ministry in Athens immediately, but Tassos had convinced him that the politic thing to do was tell the mayor first. They still had to work with him, and the message would be bad enough without having it delivered by an elephant — Athenian no less — stepping on his toes. Andreas reluctantly agreed. They'd call Athens tomorrow.
Mayor Mihali Vasilas had been in office for almost two decades. He controlled the entire island. The island's two towns, Ano Mera and Mykonos, each had representatives on the island council but elected only one mayor. He was powerful and knew it. He also knew how to be gracious. This evening he was a combination of both. When he walked into Andreas' office he gave a charming hello followed by a searing look from deep-set dark eyes. He was a foot shorter than Andreas, and slim. It was rumored that he kept himself in shape by eating only those who got in his way. In other words, he ate very little. He looked hungry.
The three still were standing about an arm's length apart. The mayor looked at Tassos. 'Tassos, why am I here?'
Andreas took the question for what it was: an effort to put Andreas in his place as irrelevant on Mykonos. He decided to let things play out. He knew where they had to end. May as well give him all the rope he needed.
Tassos looked at Andreas to answer. 'Mr Mayor,' Andreas said, 'we have a problem — a very serious problem — and we want you to know about it before we contact Athens.'
The mayor jerked his head toward Andreas, anger glaring in his eyes. 'You will do nothing without my approval, absolutely nothing!' he yelled. 'Do you understand?'
'Beg your pardon, Mr Mayor, but it's out of our hands.' Andreas sounded as gracious as a headwaiter.
'Nothing is out of your hands where I'm concerned, absolutely nothing.' The veins were popping in his neck, and he was waving his finger in Andreas' face.
Andreas wondered if something in their oath of office made Mykonos mayors — past and present — so arrogant.
'Well, this just might be the exception, Mihali,' Tassos said, his tone telling him to get off his mayoral high horse and, by his nod toward Andreas, to show some respect.
But the mayor would not dismount. 'I don't want to hear another word about that murdered girl and my cousin. Not one. Do I make myself clear?'
'It's not just about her. There's more,' Andreas said, his voice coldly professional.
'More? More of what?'
'Murders.' Andreas said the word softly. No need for more drama than that.
The mayor stared at him. His face looked puzzled, then he looked at Tassos and his expression strangely relaxed. 'Let me guess, after all these years you think you've finally found a way to resurrect your theory that the Irishman didn't kill the Scandinavian. You think, because you found the new body bound copycat like one from ten years ago, everything ties together and vindicates your theory.' His tone was derisive.
He certainly knew his facts, at least some of them, thought Andreas.
'I think it's safe to say I've more than proven I was right about that, Mihali.' Tassos' tone was not appeasing.
The mayor pointed his index finger in Tassos' face. 'If any of this bullshit gets out about the two murders being related — one word, a single word — you can kiss your pension good-bye, and' — turning to Andreas — 'you, you'll never ever see anything but parking tickets for the rest of whatever career you have left.'
If that's the way it's going to be, Andreas thought, he was prepared to play. 'Okay, you've got a deal, Mr Mayor.' Andreas nodded in agreement, patted the mayor on the shoulder, walked around his desk, and sat down. Smiling, he leaned back and linked his hands behind his head. 'Neither of us will say a fucking single word to anyone tying those two murders together. We'll leave that to the press to figure out on its own when we tell them about the other sixteen bodies we found — some still bound like the two you don't want us to talk about.' He leaned forward, dropped his hands to the desk, and looked at Tassos. 'Am I right that it's eighteen in total? The seventeen we found in four churches plus the Scandinavian.'
Tassos gave Andreas a quick look of admiration and turned to the mayor with a deadpan expression. 'So far. After all, we've only had time to look in eight churches.'
They both stared at the mayor. His mouth was wide open but not a word came out.
After allowing the stew to simmer for a moment, Tassos added some spice. 'The murders appear spaced at the rate of one per year.' He paused. 'And roughly span your term in office, Mr Mayor.' Tassos smiled broadly and dropped into his favorite chair.
The mayor was seething. He pulled up a straight-back wooden chair and sat so he could see both men. Then he demanded details. Andreas delivered them matter-of-factly. 'We found the remains of seventeen bodies, all tall females, in the floor crypts of four churches. Preliminarily, forensics show no evidence of clothing or hair more than stubble on any victim, but hemp twine was found at all locations, and remains of at least one body in each crypt were found bound in the same manner as the Vandrew woman.'
'And the Scandinavian,' Tassos added with a glare at the mayor.
Andreas continued, 'Remains of four bodies each were found in Saint Kiriake, Saint Marina, and Saint Calliope
