An Aegean Prophecy - Jeffrey Siger [31]
Tears started forming in Lila’s eyes. She dabbed at them with her fingertips. ‘Sorry, pregnant women get this way at times.’
‘No need to say more.’ A knock at the door signaled it was time for dinner with his family. ‘I belong here.’ He doubted any soul would disagree, certainly none like Vassilis.
Patmos was a place of rich beauty, deep conviction, and pious tradition. It also was an island, and island people were different from mainland folk. Separated from the rest of the world, they grew up facing dangers without expecting help from the outside. Instead, they relied upon each other and learned to honor their neighbors’ families by attending their baptisms, weddings, and funerals. During Easter Week there would be no baptisms or weddings, but funerals were different. They were prohibited only on Good Friday.
Vassilis was not from Patmos and had no surviving family to honor him, but from the crowd overflowing his funeral that morning you’d think Kalogeros Vassilis was the father of each soul on the island. Virtually every Patmian-owned business closed for the funeral. It was an unimaginable honor, paid by a business-savvy people during one of their busiest weeks of the year.
Andreas arrived in Skala while the funeral was underway in Chora. That made it hard for him to shop for what he wanted. But, finally, he found it in a store run by an Athenian. From there he went directly to the police station. No one was expecting him and that was how he wanted it. Two young cops seemed to be the only people in the place. Everyone else must be at the funeral, he thought.
Andreas identified himself and told the cop sitting at the front desk that he was there ‘to review the physical evidence in the Kalogeros Vassilis case.’
The cop turned his head toward the other cop standing by the hallway to the captain’s office. From their exchange of looks it was obvious neither knew what to do.
‘I’m sorry sir, I’m not authorized to allow you access,’ said the cop behind the desk.
‘Who is?’ Andreas was crisp and formal.
‘The captain, sir.’
‘Then call him.’
‘I can’t, sir, he’s at the funeral.’
‘Then open the door to his office.’
‘I said I’m not allowed, sir.’ There was a slightly testy edge to his voice.
Andreas leaned over and stared. ‘That’s Chief Inspector Kaldis, Special Crimes GADA, to you, rookie.’ He paused. ‘Now, open the goddamned door before I kick it in.’
The two Patmos cops looked at each other as if each hoped the other would do something. Andreas waited five seconds, then walked around the desk and headed toward the captain’s office. The cop by the hallway stepped in front of him and held up his hand.
‘Stop!’ He paused. ‘I’ll get the key.’
‘Wise decision, officer.’
Three minutes later Andreas and the cop with the key were in the captain’s office standing around the evidence table. Neither said a word to the other. Andreas wanted the cop there; that way there’d be no charge of tampering with evidence.
Carefully, Andreas laid out every piece of evidence in front of him: the robe, the hat, the undergarments, the sandals, a cross.
‘Where’s the other cross?’
The cop shrugged. ‘I guess they took it for the funeral service.’
‘Who authorized its removal?’
He shrugged again. ‘The captain?’
Hope the idiot doesn’t bury it with him, thought Andreas. Thank God he took the silver one.
Slowly, Andreas began examining every stitch of every garment, as if a Rosetta stone-type secret were woven into the fabric. After twenty-five minutes of this, Andreas noticed the cop was getting antsy. He’d stopped watching every move Andreas made and began glancing around the room. Five minutes later Andreas said, ‘Officer, would you do me a favor and open the shutters, I need a bit more light in here if I’m ever going to finish.’
The cop seemed excited at the chance of finally getting to do something besides watching Andreas’ hands. He stepped behind the captain’s desk,