He wanted to sit next to her but didn't move. 'Let me know when you want to talk.'
'When I want to talk? Perhaps I'm missing something here, Chief Kaldis, but you're the one who should be doing the talking. Or are you expecting me to try to convince you to trust me?' She jumped up, grabbed her bag, caught her sunglasses as they fell off her forehead and pointed them at Andreas. 'Fuck you!' And stormed-off down the narrowest of the four paths out of the square.
Andreas let out a breath and walked over to a foot-high white-concrete wall encircling a large eucalyptus tree at the edge of the square. He lit a cigarette and put his right foot on the top of the wall. He stared down the path she'd taken and looked at his watch. Three minutes had passed since she left.
'So, are you going to come out, or stay in there all night?'
He heard a muffled word that he was pretty sure was 'bastard.'
'Lila, you took one of the only dead end paths in town. Consider it a sign. Come out and let's talk.'
Another minute passed. He first saw the feet. She'd been sitting on the steps of a house about fifteen feet down the path. The rest of her body swung out into the lane and marched straight at him.
She swung her bag into his belly. 'Carry this,' and continued on out of the square down a path to the left.
Andreas followed, carrying the bag. He couldn't help but smile.
The path connected to others leading to Little Venice, perhaps the most popular part of the old town. It was a good choice. More tourists than locals came there. Not likely to run across paparazzi there, either. She stopped at the doorway to a bar with a rainbow painted on the door frame. 'This seems nice.'
He looked in. It looked like an English pub. Two young-looking men, one blond and one dark, were behind the bar talking to a large woman on the other side. 'It is. It's a piano bar. But once the music starts, it gets busy fast and attracts a lot of locals. Athenian society types too. I have a better idea.'
He led her around the corner and up a flight of stairs to the veranda of a bar overlooking the sea, the windmills, and sunset. Many thought it the most romantic view in Mykonos. That wasn't his reason for coming there. He came because it was filled with tourists. He chose a table in the easternmost corner of the place; that way everyone would be looking away from them at the sunset.
'Are you ready yet to tell me why you're here?' He was looking at her eyes; her sunglasses were off.
She looked back. 'I kept calling and leaving messages at your office. I wanted to know our plans for coming here. You never called back, and when I called your secretary, all she said was you were unavailable and she wasn't sure when you'd be free to return my call. I left two more messages on your phone. One, that I'd been captured by terrorists who threatened to cut off my toes if you didn't call back immediately, and another, that I'd meet you at the usual place and please wear black leather.
'You never check your messages, do you?' Anger was in her eyes.
Andreas grumbled something unintelligible.
'I figured you decided to go to Mykonos without me, or were too busy to be bothered talking to me. Either way, my decision was easy. I caught the Sea Jet from Rafina and, voila, I'm here. If you'd called back, I'd say, 'Surprise, I'm here, where are you?' and if you didn't, big deal. I'd spend a day or two on Mykonos. I was sure I'd find someone on this island who wouldn't mind my company.' The anger now was in her voice.
He shrugged. 'What do you want me to say? There are too many coincidences involving you.'
She started to get up. He thought she was going to walk out again. Instead, she sat back down, shut her eyes for a few seconds, and opened them. 'You mean bumping into you in the harbor. I just got off the Sea Jet. Check the schedule.'
'That's one.'
'Okay, what exactly are you talking about?'
'I can't tell you.'
She patted the table with her right hand. She nodded. 'Can't tell me.' She nodded again, drew in and let out a breath. 'Andreas, you owe me. I expect you to tell me why you don't trust me.' Her voice was calm.
He swallowed. 'Okay. One example. Within an hour after you told me that Kostopoulos was on Mykonos, someone told the bad guys the same thing.'
He could tell she was struggling to restrain herself. 'And you think I told them?'
His face tightened. 'That's possible. Though I want to think it's more likely you mentioned it innocently to someone, and that's how it got back to them.'
'I see. I'm a dumb, gossiping bimbo who doesn't realize what she's saying?'
'I didn't say that.'
'Or does just the fact that I'm a woman mean the same thing to you big, strong, all-knowing, macho Greek men?'
Andreas decided not to answer.
Lila reached over and patted Andreas' arm; it wasn't an affectionate gesture — more like an enough-of-your- crap one. 'Andreas, you have a lot of serious 'trust issues,'' she flashed quotation marks with her fingers, 'but that's not my problem. I'm not your shrink… or your girlfriend.' She paused. 'What upsets me is that you're judging my character based on your hang-ups. I'm trying to help, no more no less. You came to me. Remember? And I didn't want to help. Remember? Unless you think I'm a magnificent actress playing out a part in this conspiracy, you have absolutely no reason to lump me in among the 'not to be trusted.'' Lila flashed her fingers on each of her final four words, dropped her hands to her lap, and stared out to sea.
Andreas looked at the ceiling, then back at her. 'So, how did they find out?'
'How should I know? You're the cop.'
He drummed his fingers on the table.
She started talking. 'There are a dozen possible ways. A hundred. I found out by speaking to his hairdresser. Who knows what Christos might have said to someone after our phone call? He chit-chats with practically everyone who is anyone in Athens. But forget about him, what was Kostopoulos doing on Mykonos? Hiding in some cave?'
Andreas paused. 'No, not in a cave. You know he was in his home.'
'Brilliant. Last place anyone would think to look for him. At home. And I bet he's kept a low profile, nothing to attract attention from anyone happening to pass by his place.'
Andreas thought of the Hummers and the major. 'But it's not a place where people just happen by. You don't even see his house until you're on his property.'
'Even from the sea, by a fisherman?'
Andreas shrugged.
'What about gardeners, delivery men?'
Andreas shrugged again.
'And his household staff? I can't imagine him without at least a half-dozen. And all of them talk about their employers. It's part of their DNA. Finding good help these days is virtually impossible, finding help that won't talk is impossible. There's a pecking order among domestic help just as competitive and hierarchical as their employers' high-society networks. Maids and cooks trying to impress each other brag as much as Athens' most aggressive social climbers, but instead of exchanging boasts over wealth, it's all in the confidences they have to share about their bosses.
'All it took was for one maid from his house to mention to a domestic working elsewhere that her boss, the famous Zanni Kostopoulos, was on the island, and every domestic would know. And sooner or later they'd all find some way to pass the gossip on to their employers. Just to let their bosses know how plugged-in they are to what's going on in everyone else's home. And how much they should be appreciated for their discretion in safeguarding their own employers' secrets.
'Do I have to tell you how many old-line Greek families have homes and staff here on Mykonos? Any one of them could have been the source of the tip to your 'bad guys.'' More finger quotes.
'And another thing-'
Andreas put up his hand to stop her. 'No need to say more. You've convinced me. I'm sorry.'
She let out a breath. 'But I have so much more to say.'
'I bet.' He smiled.
She smiled.
They ordered a bottle of wine and watched the sunset in silence. Both looked to need the break.
