An Aegean Prophecy - Jeffrey Siger [6]
The captain walked over to his desk, picked up the phone, pressed a speed dial button, and after a hushed, thirty-second conversation, hung up. ‘He’ll see you in an hour at the monastery.’
‘Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome.’ The captain extended his right hand.
Andreas wasn’t sure if that meant they’d made up, or that a farewell sucker punch was on the way. Andreas smiled, reached out and shook the captain’s hand, but all the while kept an eye on the man’s left, just in case.
Andreas and Kouros parked in the square across from where the monk was murdered. Flowers now covered the bloodstains. A sign pointing to the monastery was posted on the wall of the path that began a few feet from where the body was found. They followed it out of the square. The route soon merged with another path funneling tourists up from the parking area below. They followed the crowd uphill, past a taverna on the left and a few souvenir shops on the right.
Just before the path started downhill, almost everyone made a sharp right up onto a set of terraced steps leading into a small piazza. It was packed with tourists. On the far left side, a dozen more steps led up toward the monastery’s entrance. Andreas looked at his watch. They were thirty minutes early for their meeting. He suggested they have coffee at the taverna they’d just passed.
It took only a minute to get there, and no sooner did they step inside than a man built like Kouros, but twice his age, yelled out, ‘Welcome to Dimitri’s! Come, let me show you to our best table.’
‘We just want coffee,’ said Andreas.
‘Does that mean I should not give you our best table? Please do not offend me by suggesting I treat my guests as euros. My duty is to show Patmian hospitality to all pilgrims to our holy island.’
Andreas wasn’t buying the pitch. ‘We’re not pilgrims.’
The man smiled. ‘I know, you’re cops.’
He’d caught Andreas off guard. ‘Are we that obvious?’
The man laughed. ‘No, I saw you in the square with Mavros.’
‘Mavros?’
‘The sergeant.’ He patted Andreas on the shoulder. ‘Hi, I’m Dimitri, and welcome to my place. Follow me, please.’ He led them out a rear door onto a broad balcony running the length of the building. It literally hung off the edge of the mountain, looking out above Skala and off to the horizon as far as the eye could see.
‘This is quite a view,’ said Kouros.
‘Sure is,’ said Andreas. He wished Lila could be here.
‘Thank you. Please, sit down.’ Dimitri pointed to a large table by the open railing at the edge of the balcony. ‘I’ll bring your coffees. I know you are in a hurry to see the abbot.’
Before Andreas could speak, Dimitri added with another smile, ‘Only a hunch, but I saw you leave for Skala. Now you’re back in Chora, and five minutes ago you walked past my place headed in the direction of the entrance.’ He pointed toward the monastery. ‘Now you’re back again and only want coffee. I assume you’re waiting to go inside, but since the monastery is about to close to tourists for today, my guess is you’ve come back to meet someone inside. And the only one in the monastery who would dare talk to the police about what happened to Vassilis is Abbot Christodoulos.’ He walked away from the table.
Kouros stared at Andreas. ‘Maybe we should just post our schedule on the front door of the town hall.’
‘Doesn’t look like we have to.’
‘How did he really know?’
‘One of the cops might have told him. Everybody gossips. It’s our national pastime. And on islands and in small villages …’ Andreas rolled his left hand out into the air. ‘Or, he might have figured it out exactly as he said.’
‘Maybe he knew the monk?’
‘I’m sure he did,’ nodded Andreas.
‘Bet it wouldn’t take much to get him talking.’
Andreas smiled.