‘Your being there when I needed you most, night after night, holding my hand, not knowing if I’d ever come out of my coma.’ She squeezed his hand and placed it on her belly. ‘And sharing moments like this. That’s what a life is. The hard part is finding someone to share those moments with who loves and cares for you as much as I do you.’
He turned away.
‘Andreas. It’s okay to cry.’
‘Haven’t in years.’
‘I know, your mother told me.’ She paused. ‘Don’t worry, we don’t have to talk about this now. I just wanted you to know how I felt.’
Andreas swallowed. Amazing, and I thought she’d be the one who couldn’t handle this conversation now. I guess imminent motherhood toughens you. I have a lot to learn.
Lila stood up and kissed him on the cheek. ‘You have a lot to learn, my love.’
Kouros ate dinner at his favorite place on Mykonos, a little taverna on Megali Ammos beach within walking distance of the old town. Great people, great food, a terrific view, and perhaps the best prices on Mykonos — a particularly important consideration for a cop treating his buddy to dinner for letting him crash at his apartment.
Now it was many hours and what seemed a thousand bars later. His buddy had gone home, leaving Kouros alone at what he called the ‘hottest’ spot on Mykonos. The place was around the corner from Mykonos’ town hall, thirty feet from the edge of the sea, and faced the nearby island of Tinos. Kouros was on a barstool a few feet away from a pair of open French doors, relying on a breeze off the sea to keep him from falling asleep on the spot. The bartender was a nice guy. Kept pouring him water every time he asked for vodka. It wasn’t a ripoff, because he knew Kouros was a cop and wouldn’t take his money anyway. It was an act of kindness that preserved Kouros’ macho image at the same time as it protected his liver.
The guy next to him started to talk. ‘This place stays open in the winter, gets a mostly Mykonian crowd. Now it’s mixed, part Mykonian, part tourist. Later in the season it’s mixed in a different way. Gays and straights, mainly gays in August.’
Why is he telling me all this? Kouros took another sip of his drink and swung around on his stool to look across the bay toward Tinos.
‘Delos is beautiful, isn’t it? So spiritual. You can catch a boat for it over there.’ He pointed off to the right. ‘In the morning.’
Obviously, the guy had no idea who Kouros was or that the Holy Island of Delos wasn’t where he was looking. Kouros gave the guy a ‘please stop bothering me’ stare. He was afraid if he said something it would be ‘Fuck off.’ No reason to start something.
The guy didn’t take the hint. ‘You know, I come to Mykonos to get away from all the pressures of my life as a Greek living high in London.’ He launched into a story about his business, his corrupt partners, what he’d done for revenge, and a host of other things he probably wouldn’t even think of telling his pillow. But now he was drunk at four-thirty in the morning in a bar on Mykonos. If Kouros were interested, he probably could get the guy to confess his deepest, most secret fears. That’s just the way it was here; everything seemed so unreal that people talked as if their words held no consequences.
But Kouros wasn’t interested, so he tuned the guy out, stared off into the distance, and tried to concentrate on how to nail Zacharias.
‘So, what do you do my friend?’ The guy smiled and put his hand on Kouros’ thigh. In the not-too-distant past, that move would have resulted in a certain loss of fingers.
Kouros returned the smile, reached into his shirt for his ID, stuck it in the man’s face, and said, ‘I’m a cop charged with investigating special crimes that come to my attention.’
The guy’s eyes turned to headlights and he was off the stool and out the door before Kouros could say another word.
Kouros shook his head and grinned. The chief would be proud of me, he thought. Damn, I’m starting to sober up. Guess it’s time to head home. He thanked the bartender and swung off the stool — right into a stunningly well- built blonde trying to slide onto the barstool next to his.
‘Easy there, big fella.’ There was a dazzling smile behind the words. ‘What’s your hurry? I’m just getting off work. The evening’s still young.’
Kouros slid back onto his barstool thinking, I just love it here.
It’s an unstated law on Mykonos that no one disturbs a partier before two in the afternoon. When the banging began on Kouros’ door it was just before one.
‘Jesus, Mario, how could you forget your key?’ Kouros stumbled out of bed and kept yelling to his buddy, ‘Mario, cool it already, I’m coming.’ He yanked open the door. It wasn’t Mario.
‘Morning, Yianni. Nice shorts.’
‘Tassos? What are you doing here?’
Tassos stepped inside without asking permission. ‘Andreas told me you were here for the weekend. I didn’t want you being alone for Easter. My cousin’s family lives here and you’re invited to everything, just like one of the family.’
‘Thanks, Tassos, but-’
‘Honey, who is it?’ The voice came from the bedroom.
‘Just an old friend.’
‘Thank God it’s not a wife. They make such scenes.’
Kouros looked at his feet.
Tassos smiled. ‘I think I should come back later.’
A flash of blonde raced into the room headed toward the front door. ‘No need to, old friend. I have to get to work. Kisses.’ Another dazzling quick smile, a single blown kiss, and gone.
‘What was that?’
‘Four-thirty in the morning on Mykonos.’
‘I think I arrived just in time.’ Tassos laughed again.
Kouros yawned and walked into the kitchen. ‘Coffee?’
‘Sure. Tough break about the minister shutting you down.’
Kouros shrugged. ‘I’m past that. With all the juice involved in this case, we’re lucky they let us catch the bastards who cut the monk’s throat. No chance of getting to Zacharias; he’s too wired into the right people.’
‘Christ, Yianni, you’re too young to be as cynical as I am.’
Kouros shrugged. ‘So prove me wrong.’
‘Wish I could. As I said to Andreas, “The only ones I see likely wanting to hang his ass are the Russians.”’
‘Have any Russian friends we can talk to?’
‘None who’d believe us. We’re just cops, claiming everybody but us is involved in a coverup. No way the Russians are going to take our word for it without checking everything out first. And that means whatever we say gets back to someone involved in keeping things quiet, and bye-bye pension for me.’
‘And a career change for me. Directing traffic if I’m lucky.’
‘In the middle of the National Highway.’
‘So, like I said, “Prove me wrong.”’
Tassos shrugged. ‘I’m sure the Russians know all about the bad press they’re getting here, and the rumors that they’re behind everything that’s gone wrong on Mount Athos. But Russians are a naturally suspicious sort, born and bred on intrigue. So, for working-level Greek cops to appear on their doorstep out of nowhere with a story about some war criminal Mount Athos monk being behind it all smells just too much of setup. They know damn well how much the Greek Church would love to link them to a church politics plot involving Mount Athos. It would make every smoke and mirrors press story and rumor instantly fact.’
Kouros picked up two cups of coffee, handed one to Tassos, and started drinking from the other.
‘Thanks, Yianni, but there’s no way the Russians will believe us. People just don’t confide such serious stuff to total strangers out of the blue without a motive. Unless, of course, they’re insane.’
Kouros paused in mid-sip. ‘I have an idea. Let’s call Andreas.’ He put down the coffee, picked up the landline phone, and dialed.
