ending: the deputy minister's niece is found murdered in a bizarre ritual killing and all the world learns that for decades a serial killer has been murdering Mykonos tourists at will.
He headed back to his office, snatched a cot from a cell, and tried to catch a few hours' sleep. After all, tonight he, too, would have neither booze nor dancing to keep him awake. He knew it would be difficult moving her to the church with police looking everywhere for him. He also knew the sensible thing was to toss her body into the sea and walk away, but he loved his plan too much to abandon it.
Besides, he must complete the ceremony. It was not out of pride that he thought that way, nor was he seeking glory for outwitting the police — certainly not any of a public sort. It was never his desire that the world know of him or his acts. He was not like those others who seemed to crave attention and left some souvenir sign or public message announcing each death. He found all the reward he needed in the many quiet moments he shared with his tributes within the solitude of these walls. No, he must complete the ceremony to honor those who protected him for so long in this foreign place and allowed him all those private moments. Moments like this.
He reached into the bag and pulled out what he needed. With a pencil he carefully drew dark brown eyebrows over the light ones he'd shaved away. Then he dressed her in a loose-fitting, light gray, cotton beach dress. Finally, he lifted her bald head and pulled on a long, dark brown wig. He noticed she was breathing lightly. Good, he thought: she'll make it to the church. He picked up his bag and left to find what he'd need to move her.
This time he locked the door behind him — just in case.
18
Andreas had slept longer than he intended. It was almost ten. There was a note on his desk from Kouros. Considerate of the kid not to have awakened him, he thought. He read the note: 'Panos never showed up at his restaurant last night. The artist Daly was there for a while but left before we got there. Neither man returned home.' Considerate my ass, Andreas realized, he didn't want to tell me in person.
He tossed the note onto his desk and called Pappas. He'd kept his word; the new men had been searching since eight but only enough had shown up to form groups of three. Guess the mayor is losing supporters, thought Andreas. They'd gone in through three entrances on hillsides overlooking the priest's beach and one by a cove just north of it. Pappas said the tunnels ran west through the base of the hills before turning south toward Ano Mera. He said he picked those tunnels because they connected with ones running toward the artist's and Panos' places. Andreas could see his grin through the phone. The shark was still hunting.
Andreas kept his cool. 'Let's pray you guessed right.'
'They're moving a lot faster now,' Pappas reported. 'The tunnels last night were some of the oldest and haven't been worked for forty years or so. The men had to be very careful. The ones they're in now were used until about twenty-five years ago. If she's in one, we should know in a few hours.'
'What's a few hours?' Andreas didn't want to get his hopes up.
'By this afternoon.'
'Early or late?'
'Late.'
Andreas thought, if she's in there and he doesn't move her before sunset, at least we have a chance. Once he moves her, all we can hope for is that he sticks to his routine. But he's too smart not to change it. By now every local knows we're searching the mines, so chances are he knows we're looking for him — and that we must know his tactics. But what will he change? What's he thinking — that 'sick bastard,' he said aloud.
'What did you say?' Pappas sounded angry.
Andreas had been so lost in his own thoughts he was surprised to hear Pappas' voice. 'Huh?' Then he laughed. 'No, no, not you. I was thinking of the bastard who has her.'
Pappas grumbled, 'Just don't forget how much you owe me for this.'
'Of course I won't.' Andreas was back to stroking him. 'Please let me know as soon as there's any news — and, again, thanks. We couldn't have done this without you.' He hung up, indulged himself with five seconds of dwelling on how much that guy grated on him — despite all his help — and went back to thinking how the killer would try to cross them up.
The only shot they had was if the killer stuck to suffocating his victims in a church on its name day. But maybe he'd bury her — or already has buried her — with enough air to survive until after midnight. He shook his head. Time for coffee.
He got a cup of coffee and brought it back to his office, then sat behind his desk staring out the window and thinking. It was at times like this he wished he had a view of the sea, but land with that kind of view was too valuable for housing cops. No money, no respect, no views. No wonder cops go bad. He thought of his dad. No, he never went bad; maybe that's why he died young — he was too good. He shook his head. 'Stop this foolish, stupid thinking.' He'd said the words aloud.
Andreas turned his thoughts back to Annika Vanden Haag. If we don't find her in the mines, all we're left with is the churches. And if he's already buried her in one of them… he let out a deep breath. We have no choice; as soon as Tassos gets to Ano Mera we'll have to send men out to search the churches. My God, I can't believe we're going to be opening every burial crypt in every Saint Kiriake on Mykonos in the middle of preparations for tonight's panegyris.
He dropped his forehead into his hands. Andreas could just hear the screaming priests and families. This was going to be one giant public-relations nightmare. Time to get His Honor the mayor back in the fun. Andreas enjoyed watching the slight twitching at the outside corner of the mayor's right eye expand across his eyebrow as Andreas explained what he intended to do. 'With any luck we'll find her before dark,' he said trying to sound enthusiastic.
The mayor spoke in a measured tone. 'Don't you think your plan is a bit too aggressive? Watching churches is one thing, but opening tombs is…' He searched for the words. 'Quite a different matter.'
Andreas took the formality of the phrase to mean 'insane.' 'We don't have a choice. We can't take the chance he's already buried her alive in one of them.'
'But how do we know? She could be anywhere.' His voice cracked.
'Could be, but the churches are our best guess, and if she's in one and we don't check…' He paused. 'I don't have to tell you what that means.'
The mayor stared at him. 'No, you don't have to remind me.' He got up from behind his desk, walked to the window, and stared out.
He has a view of the sea, Andreas thought.
Still staring out the window, the mayor said, 'There's no way he could bury her in a busy church during preparations for a panegyri. There are too many people around.' He turned to face Andreas. 'Why not do a thorough examination of the busy ones for anything unusual and save your digging for the less public ones? After all, isn't that where he's likely to take her?'
The mayor was doing his political thing — looking for compromise — and his approach would attract a lot less attention and aggravation, but Andreas nodded no. 'I understand where you're coming from — I had the same thought — but we can't risk it. This killer's smart enough to have figured some way of getting her into any church he wants, no matter how many people are around. We can't forget that he's probably been studying our churches for years with just this sort of thing in mind.'
'That's my churches, Chief.' His fangs were showing. 'I'm the one who has to live here after you've desecrated who knows how many final resting places of our citizens' ancestors.'
Andreas let him vent. He knew the mayor had no choice but to go along with him. This was nothing more than Andreas giving him the chance to put his best political spin on the search.
The mayor let out a breath and walked back to his desk. 'Let me speak to the archbishop. I think I can get him to cooperate as long as it's clear there's only going to be a quick look under floor slabs and no one's planning on knocking down any walls looking for her in a wall crypt.'
'Unless there's a sign of fresh cement on a wall, I can go along with that,' said Andreas. It was a minor compromise, one to let Mihali save face.
'Fine, just don't start digging before I speak to him. Give me an hour.'
