An Aegean Prophecy - Jeffrey Siger [58]
‘That’s how you got to Patmos in the first place, by boat.’
The middle one nodded.
‘So, who wants to tell me?’ said Andreas.
‘Tell you what?’ said the middle one.
‘Why did you have to kill him?’
No one answered; their faces like carved stone.
‘Okay, guys, I know the rules, no confessions, ever. But here we have a special situation.’ Andreas looked at Kouros. ‘Tell them.’
Kouros looked each of them in the eye before speaking. ‘If you stick with the good soldier’s “name, rank, and serial number” routine, you’ll be prosecuted as international war criminals and spend the rest of your lives in prison. No tribunal would even consider a lighter sentence, not after what you did to a priest. You’re all as good as dead.’
Andreas raised a finger. ‘However, there is an option. If you cooperate I can promise that instead you’ll be tried in a Greek court for murder.’
‘Some promise,’ said the middle one.
‘It’s a better deal than you think. First of all, Greece has no death penalty. Secondly, with the right lawyer and the right amount of money, in time you’ll probably get out.’ Regrettably, thought Andreas, all that was true.
‘I want a better deal,’ said the quiet one.
‘I hoped you’d say that,’ said Kouros. ‘It will give me great joy to deliver you personally to a war crimes prosecutor.’
‘We didn’t plan on killing him, honest.’ It was the middle one.
Thank God it worked, thought Andreas. ‘What happened?’
‘We were just supposed to watch him. See what he was up to.’
Andreas nodded. ‘All that stuff he was saying had attracted a lot of attention.’
‘It was all over Mount Athos,’ said the quiet one.
‘We only were supposed to watch him,’ the middle one repeated.
Andreas grinned. ‘Must have been pretty boring watching an old man do his thing.’
‘Yeah, pretty routine,’ said the thankful one.
The middle one looked down. ‘Then he went out that night.’
The quiet one said, ‘It all happened so quickly. He just up and left the monastery at two-thirty in the morning, carrying an envelope. We didn’t know what to do. We couldn’t reach—’
‘Out to God for an answer,’ the middle one finished the sentence.
The quiet one seemed startled, then nodded. ‘Yes, to God.’
‘Fellows, God wouldn’t tell you to cut his throat.’ Andreas said the line flatly.
‘We know,’ said the quiet one, glaring at the middle one.
The middle one glared back.
Guess now we know who wielded the knife, thought Andreas.
The quiet one continued. ‘We ran out behind him, and when we saw him take the high road past the taverna toward the town square we took the path down to the bus stop and ran back up again into the square.’
‘We didn’t intend to kill him. He was a man of God.’
That was becoming the middle one’s mantra, thought Andreas.
The quiet one said, ‘When he came into the square, we grabbed him and took the envelope. Then we saw what was inside. He didn’t struggle, just stood there, clutching his cross as we held him.’
‘We had no instructions, and no way of receiving any,’ said the thankful one.
‘Communication was forbidden by then,’ said Andreas.
The middle one nodded. ‘We’d been told, “Use your judgment.”’
Andreas nodded and decided to take another chance. ‘The photographs must have surprised you.’
‘Yes,’ said the middle one. ‘If what he knew ever got out, it would mean the end of God’s mission on earth. It was God’s will for us to protect that mission with our lives if necessary. It would be a humble sacrifice.’
The thankful one bowed his head. ‘After it was done, we decided to make it look like a mugging.’ He looked up at the middle one. ‘But I wouldn’t let them take his crosses.’
‘His death was a necessary sacrifice to the Lord,’ said the middle one. ‘He knew it too, he immersed himself in prayer, accepting his fate.’
Andreas heard the shotgun safety click twice. He took it as Kouros’ suggestion that they consider ending this interrogation with an attempted escape.
Andreas went on. ‘That’s when you tossed his room?’
The quiet one nodded. ‘Yes, I did that. The others watched to make sure no one saw me.’
‘Where’s his