An Aegean Prophecy - Jeffrey Siger [52]
The farm was right where Dimitri promised it would be and just as he’d described: a cluster of white buildings surrounded by tall cedars and pines, above fields of sprouting green running down to a long stone wall that set the farm off from a sandy beach and the cove beyond. On the far right side of the cove, a short jetty cut into the sea, running parallel and close to the beach; a dozen small, brightly-painted Greek fishing boats were tied bow-to-jetty, stern-to-shore, and tiny sheds for fishing nets and other needs of the trade filled the seaward side of the jetty.
There was no way to approach the house unnoticed. It no doubt was built with that in mind generations ago by wary folk wanting warning of the welcome and not-so-welcome entering their isolated paradise. Besides, the dogs would announce their presence long before they reached the house. To make it tougher, the only practical way to get there was by foot or aboard some four-footed creature.
‘Yianni, stop here.’ They were on a dirt road running down toward the sea, above and as close to the house as you could get from the road. From here they had an unobstructed view of the house, and vice-versa. The shed Dimitri had described was on the other side of the house and not visible from the road. A small coffee hut serving locals and the occasional tourist was farther down the road, blocking vehicle access to the sea below.
‘Looks like the church wants to keep this bit of paradise serene,’ said Kouros.
‘Let’s hope we don’t change things.’
Kouros nodded. ‘If they’re the ones who murdered the monk, they have nothing to lose.’
‘I don’t doubt for a second they’d kill everyone in that family if they had to.’
‘And us,’ added Kouros.
Andreas nodded. ‘Let’s just sit here for a while, and make sure they know we’re here.’
‘Sounds like a plan. Too bad I’m not in uniform, I could get out and parade around.’
‘I think they’ll be able to tell from the car.’ Andreas knew Kouros was teasing; they were driving a marked, blue-and-white Patmos police car.
‘That Patmos captain sure came around. He couldn’t help us enough. Like he found religion or something.’
Andreas nodded. ‘Or something.’ Andreas fluttered his lips. ‘Well, I guess it’s time.’
‘Damn sure hope this works.’
Andreas didn’t respond; he was concentrating, preparing himself. ‘Remember, show no guns. Just make sure you’ve got them ready.’
‘Three of them.’
Andreas looked at Kouros. ‘Okay?’
Kouros nodded. They bumped fists, and stepped out of the car.
They made their way through a break in the tightly packed brush and over a stone wall, then slid down a twelve-foot hillside to a wide path running parallel to the road above. Dogs started barking the moment they started sliding. A smaller rock-and-dirt path began there and ran straight up to the outbuildings next to the house. It was lined by three-foot-high stone walls and unevenly spaced cedars.
The two cops walked very slowly, as if strolling down a country lane. Chickens scurried along the path toward the buildings.
‘Do you think they saw us?’ Kouros’ voice was tight.
‘I sure as hell hope so.’ Andreas resisted the temptation to pat where he’d hidden two of his semiautomatics. It would be a literal dead giveaway to anyone watching. And he knew, if they were the killers, they were watching. They had to be. The path ended just beyond a small barn where a narrower path started off to the left. The new path ran between the house on the left and a group of small sheds and coops on the right before winding down out of sight toward the jetty side of the beach.
‘Where the hell are they?’ whispered Kouros.