read to him. She didn't even want it associated with her hand-writing. Something about a handwritten message made it easier to kill the messenger.
The gentle ping of Spiros Renatis' computer meant he had a new, urgent e-mail message. He quickly glanced at the screen and clicked it open. Dear Spiros,
When you were a little boy and hadn't done what you were supposed to do, Mother made me look under all the beds in the house until I found where you were hiding. There must be a very big one in your office. WHY HAVEN'T YOU FOUND ANNIKA?
Love, Catia. This time he placed the call himself, but still it wasn't to Andreas.
'Hello, mayor, it's Spiros Renatis. How are you?' They'd met a few times but didn't know each other very well.
The mayor had no idea why the deputy minister was calling but guessed it had something to do with raising either funds or hell on his little island. Mainland politicians were always asking for his help in such matters. He never minded because he knew it gave him far more national political influence than any mayor of only six thousand voters could possibly deserve.
'Fine, thank you. How nice to hear your voice, Minister. How are you? Are we going to see you soon on our lovely island?' His voice sounded prerecorded.
'No complaints here and, yes, I'm planning to be there for the August 15 holiday,' said Spiros.
'Wonderful,' said the mayor. 'I look forward to seeing you again. Is there anything I can do to help you with your plans, Minister?' No reason to draw this out, he thought.
'Please, call me Spiros. And thank you for the offer, but we're all set.' Pause. 'There is one little thing, though, I hoped you might be able to help me with.'
Here it comes. 'Sure, how can I be of service?' The mayor was at his concierge-sounding best.
Spiros sounded tentative. 'It has to do with my sister's daughter. She's on Mykonos for holiday and hasn't called her mother. I left word with your police chief to get her to call, but so far, my sister hasn't heard from her. I can't imagine it would be that hard to find her since I told him where she was staying.' Pause. 'So, I was wondering if you could give him a call and tell him how important this is to me.'
Mihali thought he must be missing something. Spiros was the deputy minister of the arm of government in charge of police. Why was he calling him to speak to one of his chiefs? And why wouldn't Andreas call him back? There had to be more to this than the deputy minister was telling him. 'I'm surprised to hear that. The chief seems a responsive sort of guy.'
Spiros spoke quickly. 'Oh, I'm sure he is, and this probably isn't a big thing to him, and to be honest, I think my sister is a bit of an alarmist — my niece only arrived there a couple of nights ago — but after all, she's my only sister and Annika is her only child.'
The mayor smiled to himself. This guy's too embarrassed to keep henpecking away at Andreas the way his sister's doing to him. He just wants to be able to tell her he now has both the mayor and the police chief of Mykonos looking for her. 'Sure, no problem. Anything specific you want me to tell him?'
'No. He already knows her full name, Annika Vanden Haag — her father's a Dutch diplomat — and that she's staying at the Adlantis Hotel.'
It was a very warm evening, but the mayor felt a distinct chill. 'What does she look like?' he asked, his voice becoming shaky.
'Your typical tall, blond, blue-eyed, twenty-two-year-old Dutch beauty.' He sounded proud. 'Who just graduated from Yale University.'
Silence.
'Are you okay?' asked Spiros.
'Uh, yes, just looking for a pencil.' His heart was pounding.
Spiros repeated the information, but the mayor never bothered to write it down. He already knew what it meant. He kept his voice in check long enough to assure Spiros he'd get the chief to address this at once.
He hung up and stared out his window at the sea. His office was on the second floor of the two-and-a-half- story municipal building standing at the south edge of the old harbor. It was built in the late 1700s as the home of a Russian count and was the only building on the harbor with terra cotta roof tiles. It had seen the rise and fall of many ruling powers on Mykonos. The mayor's eyes drifted up to the sky. The sun had just set but the heavens were still bright. He wondered where Andreas was at that moment — and if he knew that the golden red sky was falling in on them.
At the moment it was the earth, not the sky, that held Andreas' interest. He was the first one into the crypt. He didn't use the ladder, just jumped in. It was only a few seconds more before Tassos was down the ladder but by then Andreas had found his man — and a large brown dog fiercely loyal to the master who'd rescued it from starving Mykonos winters and poisoned baits. Luckily for Andreas, in dog years it was almost as old as its master. Startled, Andreas instinctively ducked to the side as the dog leaped and missed with a midair, snarling lunge for his throat. It crashed and rolled to the floor by the base of the ladder at the feet of a surprised-looking Tassos. The dog never took its eyes off Andreas and scrambled to its feet for another run at him, but Tassos grabbed it from behind and held its snout closed while Andreas turned his attention — and gun — back on the man.
The pounding in Andreas' voice was more because of the dog than the man. 'What are you doing down here?' Andreas demanded.
The man was kneeling and seemed surprisingly calm for one just surprised by two men with guns. 'It's my church. Hello, Tassos.' He looked to be in his seventies, with the craggy face and silver hair of an old fisherman. His well-worn black jacket and dusty fisherman's hat completed the picture.
Tassos nodded. 'Hello, Vassili.'
Andreas knew it was time to lower his gun. 'Sorry, we heard the wailing and moaning and thought someone was in trouble.'
The man struggled to his feet. 'It's my wife.' He pointed toward a small marble plaque on the wall. 'She died five years ago and we still miss her.' He gestured to the still snarling animal to come to him. Andreas nodded and Tassos let him go. The dog glared at Andreas but did not snap as it passed him on the way to his master.
'The wailing was mine, the moaning his.' He scratched the dog behind its ears. The man now looked to be in his eighties.
'Sorry, sir,' Andreas said again.
'If you were looking for me, I don't live here.' He didn't sound bothered at all — almost seemed to welcome the company.
'No, sir, we were looking for your tenant, Mr Daly.'
The man nodded. 'Tom's not here now, probably off in some mine.'
'Yes, we heard he likes old mines,' Andreas said.
'Sure does. He was pretty upset when I told him I had to close up that entrance.' He gestured toward the rear of the chamber. 'But I told him this was where Anna always wanted her church to be.' He looked toward his wife's remains. 'Tom's a good fella. He understood. Even helped me build it. Did all the work himself, sealing up the old entrance.'
Andreas glanced at Tassos, then back at Vassili. 'Do you mind if we look around?' He gestured toward the wall sealing off the mine from the crypt.
The man shrugged. 'Look all you want.'
Andreas took out his flashlight and studied the wall. It was made of two solid, four-foot-wide by four-foot- high slabs of gray-brown granite tightly fitted one on top of the other. He looked at the old man. 'Rather unusual construction for a church crypt, wouldn't you say?'
The man shrugged again. 'Tom said, 'If we're going to build a church for Anna, let's do it right.' Said he wanted to make sure no one could break in from the other side.'
Or into the tunnel from this side, thought Andreas. He beamed his light on the floor by the wall. Nothing there to indicate that the wall swung into the crypt — like the door it resembled — but maybe it swung into the mine. He lowered his shoulder to the wall and pushed, then gestured for Tassos to give him a hand. The two men pushed as hard as they could, first on one edge, then on the other. The wall didn't budge.
'What are you doing?' The old man sounded more curious than annoyed.
