An Aegean Prophecy - Jeffrey Siger [63]
A few seconds later Ilias said, ‘Nothing.’
Andreas shook his head. ‘Damn, I was sure there’d be something.’ He turned away from the window. ‘I have another idea, but for luck I’ll type it in myself.’ He walked over to the laptop, typed four words, and hit ENTER.
The computer came up with a single hit, a file titled, ‘Thief in the night.’
‘Bingo,’ Andreas shouted and slapped Ilias on the back so hard the whiz kid almost fell off his chair. ‘Sorry, I’m used to slapping my partner.’
‘Lucky him,’ said Ilias, rubbing away at his back.
‘So, what do we have?’
Ilias opened the file. It was a folder containing a dozen different documents, including three lists. One was a list of monks at Zacharias’ monastery, but Zacharias’ name wasn’t on it. Another was a list of newspaper articles, arranged by journalist, accusing the Russians of a hand in the scandal at Mount Athos, and the third listed TV journalists known for sharing those same views on the Mount Athos scandal. Of the remaining documents, all but one were newspaper articles published more than a decade ago, and not in Greek. The last document was a photograph of a monk in his cell, probably from a magazine.
‘Maggie, come in here.’
The door swung open. ‘I wondered when you’d invite me.’
Andreas pointed to the two lists of journalists on the screen. ‘What do these names mean to you?’ She read the lists and smiled. ‘Officially or unofficially?’
‘Maggie!’
‘Okay, they’re the best money can buy. If you want a story and are willing to pay for it, you get it. Facts are secondary to these guys.’
Andreas let out a long breath. Just like the ones who brought down my father, he thought. He pointed to the newspaper articles. ‘Any idea what these are about?’
Maggie looked and gestured no. ‘They’re foreign, not my area of expertise.’
‘Uh, Chief.’
‘Yes.’
Ilias pointed to one. ‘This one’s in German, the others I believe are in Serbian.’
‘Can you read them?’
‘Not the Serbian, but I think I can make out the German.’ He studied the article for a couple of minutes. ‘It’s German, but from a Swiss paper. It’s about an escaped war criminal who burned to death in a car crash in Switzerland.’
‘How was the body identified?’
‘From documents on the scene.’
How convenient they didn’t burn, Andreas thought. ‘Anything else?’
‘You’ll need a professional translation for details. My German isn’t that good, and my Serbian is practically nonexistent. But,’ Ilias pointed to the articles in Serbian, ‘one thing I can make out is that all the newspapers mention the guy who died in Switzerland.’
Andreas nodded. ‘What about the photograph of the monk in his cell?’
‘I have an idea.’ Ilias tore through the disks until he found a particular one and popped it into the laptop. It was from a CD collection giving a virtual tour of Mount Athos monasteries. ‘Here.’ He pointed to a photograph. It was the one of the monk in his cell. ‘I thought I saw it before. It’s from that monastery you’re interested in.’
‘Damn, you’re good.’
Ilias jerked forward as if anticipating another congratulatory whack.
Andreas laughed and high-fived him as they bent to the screen.
‘Wait a minute,’ said Andreas. ‘What’s that over there?’ He pointed to a photograph next to the one of the monk’s cell.
‘It’s of the library in the same monastery,’ said Ilias.
‘Can you make this part bigger?’ Andreas pointed to an area of the floor, and watched the photograph grow.
‘My God,’ said Ilias. ‘It’s the carpet.’
Andreas gave no back slaps, no high-fives, no shouts; he just stared at the screen in silence. When he spoke, he first cleared his throat. ‘Thanks, Ilias, good job. Please print out copies of everything. I sincerely appreciate your help.’
Ilias nodded and left with the computer. Maggie was right behind him. ‘Maggie, please stay.’
‘I was afraid you’d say that.’
Andreas didn’t speak immediately. ‘Are you sure we can trust him?’
‘Trust who?’
‘Ilias.’
Maggie smiled. ‘I’m sure. His mother used to work here and always complained to me about her