Authors: Jeffrey Siger
“Thank you, both. I appreciate the consideration you showed my wife. Especially after how rude we were to you.”
Andreas nodded. “I'm sorry about your daughter.”
“I am, too,” said Yianni.
“It still hasn't hit me.” The Brigadier bit at his lip. “It's just too unimaginable.”
Andreas nodded.
“The doctor should be here any minute now. I sent a member of my staff to pick him up.”
Andreas felt the I-told-you-so glance from Yianni. “I know this is a lousy time to be asking you questions, but I hope you understand why I must.”
“Of course. Besides it might help to keep my mind off⦔ He coughed in a less-than-successful attempt to contain a sudden sob. “Ask me whatever you want. Let's just do it here in the foyer where I can keep an eye on my wife.”
“Let me start with the most obvious question. Who do you think might have done this?”
The Brigadier didn't blink. “How would I know?”
“Not even a wild guess?”
He gestured no.
“When we spoke earlier you said the killers might be military.”
“No, I simply said from the way you described their manner of dress they could have been military
or
police.”
“Fair point, but what you said got me to thinking. The killers chased your daughter for several blocks. They could have shot her anytime they wanted but held off until surrounded by witnesses and surveillance cameras. And when they did, they managed to tightly group their shots precisely where they wanted on a moving target. That's exceptional marksmanship. Especially for cops.”
“I'd call it extraordinary,” said the Brigadier. “But how do you know they hit where they were aiming?”
Andreas locked eyes with the Brigadier. “They used special, hand-loaded ammunition with slugs designed to be particularly effective on her spine and heart.”
The Brigadier blinked and looked away. “My Godâ¦are you saying Penelope was assassinated?”
“That's why I asked who you thought might have done this.”
The Brigadier pressed the fingers of his right hand against his brow and rubbed. “She'd been running with a leftist crowd since entering university. But I figured a lot of kids did that in college. Sort of a guilty rite of passage for having parents who could still afford to send them to private schools and spend summers on the islands while the rest of the country was in economic meltdown.”
“But why would the left want to kill her if she was one of them?”
“No idea. And I'm not saying they did. I'm just saying that she ran with a crowd known for doing violent things.”
“What sorts of violent things?”
The Brigadier closed his eyes, drew in a deep breath, let it out, and opened his eyes. “I have nothing specific in mind. But the media's always showing them burning cars and throwing rocks and Molotov cocktails at police. I'm just doing what you asked, speculating wildly. Sorry if I'm not helpful. I'm not exactly thinking particularly clearly at the moment.”
Andreas raised his hands in apology. “Oh, no, Brigadier, I understand completely. We're just trying to come up with a possible motive, something to justify viewing this as more than a random, wrong-time wrong-place tragedy.”
The Brigadier closed his eyes. “She was so young. Hard to imagine her making such a hardened enemy who'd go to such lengths to have her killed.”
“That's sort of my thinking too. What about you and your wife?”
He opened his eyes. “What do you mean?”
“Do either you or your wife have any âhardened' enemies?”
“Someone willing to murder our daughter to get back at one of us? That's preposterous.”
“It may be preposterous, but I just want to know if it's possible.”
The Brigadier paused. “I've done a lot in my career that's harmed a lot of people, but I can't imagine a scenario where someone would go after my daughter to get back at me.”
“Terrorists?”
“That's always a possibility, and I work with special-operations forces, but I'm not directly involved in anything that would draw their attention. Besides, terrorists like to claim responsibility for their killings. I haven't heard anything like that in connection with this. Have you?”
“No.”
“I wish I could help you, I really do. I want to get these bastards more than anyone on earth.”
“I know. We're right with you on that.”
“So, what happens next?”
Andreas looked at the mother. “We wait for the doctor and if he says it's okay, we ask your wife and the housekeeper the same questions we asked you.”
The Brigadier turned and looked at his wife. “I wish there were some way to avoid that.”
“I do too,” said Andreas.
The doorbell rang.
“It must be the doctor,” said the Brigadier as he went to open the door.
Yianni leaned over and whispered to Andreas. “He's not telling us everything.”
Andreas nodded. “I know.”
Twenty minutes later Andreas and Yianni left the house. The doctor had allowed them to ask their questions of the mother and housekeeper, but both only said how much the daughter was loved; they couldn't conceive that anyone would want to harm her.
Neither cop pressed the women or the Brigadier further. It was too soon to confront them with more reality than they already had to deal with.
***
“What do you think he's hiding?” said Yianni as he steered the marked blue-and-white police car onto Mesogeion Avenue, heading toward GADA.
Andreas gazed out the passenger side window. “No idea. But if it's something that could help us catch his daughter's killers and he still won't tell us, it's got to be damn serious.”
“Maybe he already knows who did it?”
“The thought had crossed my mind.” Andreas drummed his fingers on the dashboard. “That's about all we'd need right now in Greece, senior military types running personal vendetta operations.”
“Or it could just be the natural reluctance of the military to trust civilians. Cops think the same way.”
“But we're cops, not civilians.”
“To hardcore military types we're not much different from civilians. Just bureaucrats with guns.”
Andreas looked at the side of Yianni's face. “So, you think he's going to try running his own investigation? How long do you think he'll get away with that before we start stumbling over each other chasing the same leads? And once we do, all hell will break loose. This country's not keen on the military inserting itself into civilian matters.”
“The Brigadier may not see it that way. Or more likely not care. Many in the military think the police are far too lax in tolerating demonstratorsâthat we let them get away with too much.”
“It's not just military types who think that way. But now we have the media about to announce to the world that two Greek cops killed an unarmed twenty-year-old female demonstrator. That's going to raise an outcry against us. So until we identify who actually did the shooting, I'm not eliminating anyone, including demonstrators.”
“Do you really think demonstrators masqueraded as government types to cover the killing of one of their own?”
“Not likely,” said Andreas, “but as I said, for now I'm not dismissing any possibility.”
“Spoken like a true Greek. We thrive on Byzantine conspiracy theories.”
Andreas waved his left hand at Yianni. “All we know for sure is that the girl was known by her parents to take part in anti-government demonstrations, and she was hunted down and killed by skilled assassins. If her father knows something that might lead to his daughter's killers, my guess is he'll follow up on it ASAP.”
“Do you want to tap his phones? Follow him?”
“I'd like to do all that, but getting a wiretap on a Greek general's phones based on what we have is a non-starter. And putting a tail on him without first getting permission from his defense minister could generate some serious inter-ministry fireworks.”
“Which I assume you want to avoid.”
“Any minute now we'll be hit head-on with a behemoth media shit storm portraying cops as bloodthirsty killers of a Greek general's daughter. The very last thing we need on top of that is a headline that says âCops Investigating Victim's Mourning Father.'”
“So, what
do
we do?”
Andreas smiled again. “I thought I'd leave that to you and Maggie to take care of.”
“Maggie?”
Andreas nodded. “You told me generals get others to do things for them. Well, Maggie is our police headquarters' mother superior, with a network of friends and contacts playing similar roles in every Greek government ministry office. Who better to get a line on the Brigadier's likely choice to run such a delicate search-and-destroy operation for him? And whoever that is, that's who we watch.”
“She's your secretary. If you think we can get her to ask her friends to betray their bosses' confidences, be my guest.”
Andreas nodded. “Yes, it's going to require some convincing to get her to agree.”
“And just what part do you have in mind for me to play in your cloak and dagger assignment for Maggie?”
Andreas smiled. “A simple one. You get to do the convincing.”
Andreas and Yianni walked into Andreas' office on GADA's fourth floor to find Maggie and Petro sitting on the couch in front of the windows, staring at the flat-screen television mounted on the opposite wall.
Andreas walked behind his desk and sat down without looking at the screen. “All I want to know is whether they're pronouncing my name correctly.”
“Yes, if âkiller' Kaldis sounds right to you,'” said Maggie.
“Cute.”
“Would you prefer, âmad-dog killer cops' or âgovernment assassins' or âfascist death squads?' asked Petro.
“That seems to cover the political spectrum nicely.”
“It all depends on what channel you watch,” said Maggie. “I'd say fascist death squads is the left's favorite. Government assassins is more popular with the right.”
“So who's calling us mad dogs?”
“The moderates,” said Petro.
Maggie nodded. “Yep, it's not looking good for the good guys.”
“Any calls?” asked Andreas.
“It would be easier telling you who didn't call.”
“Lila?”
“The wife and family's fine. She said to tell you she's not picking up the house phone, so call her on her mobile.”
“That bad?”
Maggie nodded. “The press smells blood in the water, and the video of what you staged in front of the university's gates is running on an endless loop on virtually every station in Greece. They're gunning for you because you're the only cop they recognize and they all have your home phone number and address.”
Andreas shut his eyes and shook his head. “Okay, get me our new minister of public order, please.”
Maggie stood and walked to Andreas' desk. She dialed the number from memory. “Hello, it's Chief Inspector Kaldis for the minister.” Maggie handed Andreas the phone and went back to the couch.
Yianni dropped into a chair next to the desk and gestured for Petro to lower the volume on the television.
“Hi, Babis, I hear you're looking for me.”
“Andreas. What's happening and why haven't you returned my calls?”
“Sorry about that, I've sort of been busy, what with having to prevent a riot and inform a family that their daughter's been murdered.”
“Yes, I heard it was a woman. A young student at the university. Do you know which of our guys did it?”
Andreas squeezed the phone. “I don't know if any of
our
guys did it.”
“Of course they did. Everybody saw it. Video from the university's cameras is playing nonstop on every TV station in the country. They're calling for the killers' heads.”
“Well, the short answer is we only know that two men dressed as cops
or military
killed her.”
“Military? You think they could be military.”
“I said
dressed
as military.”
“It would be catastrophic for our people to think the military might be involved in this.”
“It's sort of out of our hands. The media will say what it likes, and once it gets out that the victim was the daughter of a Greek general, who knows where they'll go with the story?”
“
A Greek general
.”
“Yes. And an only child.”
Babis paused, as if catching his breath. “Despite the militaristic attitudes of the distinguished leader of our government's right wing coalition partner who serves as minister of defense, this government does not countenance violence against lawful demonstrators. And certainly not by the military.”
“That's the downside of a free press. People get to think and say what they want.”
“You're not funny.”
“I'm not trying to be,” said Andreas. “But what we should be worrying about is violence against cops.”
“That's not an issue here.”
“It soon will be, because from the way the media's playing this, every cop in Greece will be a target. Demonstrations and riots will come out of this for sure. So we better be prepared.”
“Just find the killers and leave the bigger picture to me. There will be no riots. We know how to handle demonstrations.”
Andreas squeezed the phone so hard his knuckles turned white, but his voice remained calm. “Babis, I know how proud you are of your distinguished history at uniting members of your party in demonstrations against government policies with which your party disagreed, but we're talking about passions here, not politics. Should the people start to believe that
our
government is employing the very practices it once so vigorously denounced in oppositionâ”
“No reason for you to say any more. I know how the people think. They know we'd never betray our promises to them. They will listen to our prime minister and remain calm. All you need to do is find the fascist cops who did this. We must rid their kind from our ranks. That is our promise to the people.”
Andreas closed his eyes. “That's all nice to say, but I think you still better plan for civil unrest. Make that
massive
civil unrest.”
“There is no reason to. Just do what I said and leave the people to me. And unless you have proof, no more talk of the military being involved in this tragedy. Goodbye, I must speak to the Prime Minister.”
The phone went dead and Andreas stared at it for a moment before putting it back in its cradle. “He said not to worry about protecting cops, because he can handle the people, and that I should focus on finding âthe fascist cops' who did this. âRid their kind from our ranks.'” He emphasized the quotes with his fingers.
“The leftists' phrase of choice, I see,” said Yianni.
“That's what happens when a lawyer who never liked cops gets appointed head of police,” said Petro.
“God have mercy,” said Maggie.
Andreas opened his eyes and looked down at his desk. “The people elected the government of their choice, and that government has the right to its priorities.” He looked up at Yianni. “But, Yianni, I think it's time you told Maggie what sort of help we need from her.”
***
Andreas, his pregnant wife, and five-year-old son lived at the very heart of Athens' privileged society in a penthouse apartment on the city's chicest street, next door to the Presidential Palace and across from the National Gardens. Andreas' lifestyle came with his marriage to Lila. At first he'd felt he didn't belong, that he was betraying his working class roots. He'd grown up the son of a decorated cop and housewife mother in a shabby but stable neighborhood surrounded by people quick to judge themselves morally superior to any who did not labor as they did to survive. In time, Andreas came to realize that what truly mattered was not what you did or how much you earned, but rather the ethical principles you practiced in living your life.
He'd also be the first to admit it was a hell of a lot easier making the proper life choices when money wasn't an issue.
“Welcome home, handsome,” said Lila from a cream-and-blue linen-covered sofa facing a bank of windows looking off toward the Acropolis.
Andreas dropped down beside her and took her hand, his eyes fixed on the Acropolis.
“Not even a kiss? Something serious must be on your mind.”
He turned and kissed her on the cheek. “Sorry. Just the state of our world.” He patted Lila's belly. “And what it will be like when our little one arrives.”
Lila laughed. “Hopefully not that different. My due date's less than a month away.”
Andreas leaned over and kissed her again. “You're right. No reason to talk about anything other than happy things.”
“I'm not saying that. I'm just tired, a bit anxious, and a lot excited about getting this heavy little ball of love out here into the world.” Lila patted her belly.
“Yeah, Tassaki could use a playmate.”
Lila stared at him. “Yes, that too.” She shook her head. “Men.”
“Hey, did I say something wrong?”
Lila patted Andreas' hand. “Don't worry about it. I know what's bothering you.”
Andreas bit at his lower lip.
“It was tragic what happened to that poor girl at the demonstration today.”
Andreas nodded. “At every level, and now every bastard
malaka
in Greece is looking for some way to spin it to further private agendas.”
“Welcome to the twenty-first century, my husband. No one is direct, everyone has hidden motives and aspirations.”
“I know, but it still bothers me. “
“Isn't that why we have cops, to keep the really bad ones in line?”
“That's just my point, I'm not sure we are keeping the
really
bad ones in line.”
“Where, might I ask, is this conversation headed?” She rested her head on Andreas' shoulder.
He kissed her forehead. “Something isn't right about the girl's death. Her mother's catatonic, the father's in denial. Both are expected reactions, but my instincts are screaming that the father's holding something back, that he knows more than he's told us.”
“So how do you find out if you're right?”
“From the way things are going, maybe only when two bodies turn up who happen to be his daughter's killers. I was hoping Maggie might be able to learn something through her old-girl network, but so far she's come up empty.”
“If the father knows, do you think he'd tell his wife?”
“Hard to say. It depends on how he thinks she'll react. He might just want to keep it to himself.”
“Wise choice.”
“Why do you say that?” said Andreas.
Lila lifted her head off Andreas' shoulder. “Because I know the mother. She's one of the biggest gossips in Athens. Hard to imagine her keeping something like that secret. She'd want the whole world to know if she thought it might help catch her daughter's killers.”
Andreas watched Lila rub her belly. “What mother wouldn't?”
She sighed. “I guess you're right. But if you thought she might know something, I could take a run at her for information.”
“Uh, uh,” said Andreas firmly. “Our prime directive is that you
never again
get involved in any of my cases.”
“I know, but I just thoughtâ”
Andreas cut her off. “Last time it nearly cost you your life. And if I'm right, there are far more serious players involved in whatever's going on now. Don't even think about having anything to do with it. If you're bored you can take up something less dangerous, like sky diving, while you're waiting for D-Day.” Andreas smiled.
“D-Day? As in âdelivery day'?” Lila shook her head and stared at Andreas' eyes. “Okay, charmer, what do you suggest we do to divert me from my boredom?”
Andreas waggled his eyebrows. “Is Tassaki asleep?”
“I hate it when you do that thing with your eyebrows.”
“You didn't answer my question.”
“Yes, he's asleep.”
“Terrific.” Andreas stood, gently pulled Lila up from the couch, and steered her toward their bedroom. “It's diversion time.”
She shook her head. “As I saidâ¦âmen.'”
***
Tassos had long ago grown used to Maggie's body. He knew precisely where she liked to be touched. The light was dim and the room a bit warm, but it didn't matter. He had the urge and she always let him. They'd long ago worked around the belly issue; it was passion that drove them. He pulled her closer, firmly gripping her breasts and pressing his thighs hard against her buttocks. They rocked slowly together, she moaning softly as he thrust at a pace in keeping with her breathing. He held her tightly as she came, and moaned into her ear as he soon followed. They knew how to enjoy each other.
They lay quietly together in the darkness.
“At least some things in our country are still worth doing right.”
She smacked him on his bare butt. “Is that the most romantic thing you could come up with at a moment like this?”
“Who needs romance? We just had sex.”
She laughed. “I'll remember that the next time you start nibbling at my ear.”
“It's not your ear I'm interested in.” He brushed his finger tips along her breasts.
She smiled in the dark and pressed back against him. A moment passed and she sighed.
“What's wrong?”
“Nothing, my mind was wandering. I was thinking about something Yianni and Andreas asked me to do.”
“What on earth could that be to come to you at a moment like this?”
Maggie giggled. “It has to do with that poor girl murdered over by the university.”
“The Sigounas girl?” said Tassos.
“Yes.” She shifted on the bed. “Andreas wanted me to find out what I could about her father. See if there's anything he's hiding.”
“Generals have a lot of things to hide.”
Maggie stiffened. “You know him?”
“Some. But I knew his father very well.”
“How's that?”
“He was my boss when I worked at that prison on Yaros.”
Maggie sat up and turned on the light. She pulled the sheet up to her neck. “But you were working for the Junta then.”
“I was a rookie cop, doing a job. I made friends with prisoners and guards alike. It's my nature. And a good thing too,” he gently flicked her nose, “because that's how I made friends with Andreas when he was chief of police on Mykonos, and if I hadn't, where would you and I be today?”
Andreas' chance mention to Maggie of widower Tassos, not knowing of their long ago romantic past, had helped put them back together.
“Fine, so what do you know about the Brigadier's father?”
“He was a biggie, had the ear and trust of the Colonels ruling the country.”
“What's his name?”
“He's dead now. Passed away a few years back.”
“But what's his name?”
Tassos told her.
“That's not the Brigadier's last name.”