'No.'
'Happen to get a name?'
He exhaled and put the rag under the bar. 'It was Niko or something, but I'm sure it wasn't real. Most don't use real ones in here.'
'Do you remember what he looked like?'
Pericles shut his eyes. 'He was about five and a half feet tall, slim. Dark hair, dark eyes, and light skin. He was in his thirties, I'd say, but tried to look younger. Don't we all.' He opened his eyes.
'What do you mean 'tried to look younger'?'
'He wore jeans and a tee shirt like kids do, and his hair was long, like a college student's.'
'Anything else?'
Pericles shut his eyes for a few seconds and opened them. 'Yes. He had a beard. Well, not really a beard, I think it's called a chin strip.'
'A what?'
'One of those thin little things that run from here to here.' He pinched his fingers together just below the center of his lower lip and drew them down to the bottom of his chin. 'You might say it was a very gay-looking beard.' He smiled.
Andreas smiled back. 'Anything else?'
'No. As soon as he got a phone call he was out of here.'
'That's it?'
'That's it.'
'Thanks,' said Andreas.
Pericles smiled. 'I want to say thanks, too.' He put his right hand across the bar.
Andreas nodded, shook the man's hand, and left — to deal with Kouros. The car was rocking from Andreas' anger. He was shouting, shaking his fists, and pounding on the dash. The bottom line: no matter how much Andreas liked him and respected his abilities, if Kouros couldn't control himself and keep his personal feelings in check, he couldn't work for Andreas. It made him too easy to manipulate. Andreas couldn't have made it clearer had he tattooed his words inside Kouros' eyelids, undoubtedly a far more pleasant experience than the one Kouros was enduring at the moment.
'This is your last chance! Do you understand me?'
Kouros' chin hadn't left his chest since Andreas slammed the car door and started in on him. 'Yes, sir.' It was said in about as meek a voice as Andreas could imagine coming from someone Kouros' size.
'Good, then let's never talk about this subject again.'
Andreas drew in a deep breath, exhaled and told Kouros to drive to headquarters.
Kouros didn't say a word. The silence was uncomfortable. Andreas tried breaking the tension by filling him in on what Pericles had said after Kouros left the bar.
'Chief.' His voice was tentative.
'Yes.'
'That guy at the bar, the one who, uhh, didn't belong.'
'Yes.' Andreas wondered where this was headed.
'Doesn't he sound familiar?'
'Not particularly.'
'At the coffee shop, where Anna worked, the guy at that back table who said he saw the two who killed the boy. You asked me before to speak to her about him, and I planned on doing that first thing tomorrow. The description of the guy in the bar sounds just like him.'
But for their recent conversation, Andreas would have kissed him. 'Damn it, Yianni, you're right!' He'd been so angry at Kouros, he'd missed it.
'Want to head over to that coffee shop and try to find him?'
Andreas shook his head no. 'Not yet. I want to find out who we're dealing with first.'
'I have the information from his ID and prints back in the office.'
'Good, because if he was in that bar…'
'He was the lookout.'
'Explains the phone calls and why he stopped those two from going out the back door. The gorillas must have been in the middle of dumping the body.'
'That last phone call had to be the all-clear, telling him to leave! I'll get someone to pull his phone records. Maybe we'll get lucky and come up with something.'
Andreas was happy to hear excitement back in Kouros' voice. He turned his head slightly toward him. 'Good thinking, Yianni.'
'Thanks, Chief.'
Andreas noticed a bit of a smile.
13
Andreas looked at his watch. It was after midnight and, from what they'd pieced together so far, the story of Demosthenes Mavrakis could have been written by Charles Dickens. At least the part about his early years.
He was an only child. His mother and her brother were the only children of a wealthy, old-line Greek ship- owning family. Demosthenes' father died when he was ten and his mother never remarried. Instead, when her own mother died a year later, Demosthenes and his mother moved in with her father to one of Athens' wealthy northern suburbs. That was when Demosthenes began attending Athens Academy and adopted his grandfather's surname, Mavrakis. His school records showed that he flourished there, but never finished. He withdrew two years before graduation. No reason was given for his sudden departure, and he finished his studies in Athens public schools.
Based on his subsequent extraordinary performance on Greece's nationwide university entrance examinations, Demosthenes was admitted to his first choice of universities. That was almost a dozen years ago, and still he'd not graduated, but certainly not because of any lack of brainpower. His IQ tested in the genius range.
'The guy doesn't want to be part of the real world' was Kouros' take on him.
'Don't be so quick to lump him in with all those student-types you can't stand who don't want to graduate. It clouds your judgment.' Prejudices can do that was a phrase Andreas thought to add, but didn't.
'But why hang out with kids if you're not insecure about facing the real world?'
'Like I said, let's not dismiss him so easily as 'just like everyone else.' It gives him an edge.'
Kouros paused. 'He could be using it for cover, blend into that life and never be noticed.'
Andreas nodded. 'So, let's assume his reason is unique and there's a lot more to this guy than we know. Like, why his sudden withdrawal from Athens Academy and the move with his mother away from his grandfather's mansion in the suburbs to a rented apartment in central Athens?'
'Lack of money?'
'Sounds like it. But why?'
Kouros shuffled through some papers on his lap. He picked one up. 'It says here that the grandfather died in January of the same year he left school and moved out with his mother.'
'Yeah, but her father was loaded, and there had to be an inheritance.'
Kouros shrugged.
Andreas drummed his fingers on his desk. He looked at his watch. 'Do you think it's too late to call her?'
'Who?'
'Lila Vardi.'
'Why call her?'
'She's the only one I know who might know something.' He picked up the phone and called.
'Hello.' The voice was stiff and formal.
'Lila?'
