An Aegean Prophecy - Jeffrey Siger [74]
Tassos and Kouros went to services at Kiriake, the church closest to the old harbor, and were walking through town somewhere in the middle of its procession.
‘Haven’t been to one of these in a long time,’ said Tassos.
‘I like it.’
‘I guess that’s what keeps it a tradition - people like it.’
They were about to turn onto Matogianni Street, Mykonos’ compact version of New York City’s Fifth Avenue. It started just ahead and ran down to Kiriake. For now, though, they were standing in a rare, much broader bit of lane amid the coffee shops and bars comprising the heart of Mykonos’ late-night cafe society scene. It was barely thirty yards long. Everyone who wanted to see or be seen made an appearance here at some point in the evening, generally between midnight and four a.m.
‘What time is Andreas supposed to get here?’ Tassos looked at his watch.
‘He said his plane gets in around midnight. He’s lost his helicopter privileges.’
‘The first of many such experiences, I’m sure, if any of this wacky plan of yours ever gets back to the minister.’ Tassos nodded to someone waving to him from a tiny table in front of one of the bars. ‘And what did you do this afternoon, Mister Big Idea Man?’
‘Slept. I was exhausted.’
‘I bet.’ Tassos grinned.
Kouros leaned over and whispered in Tassos’ ear, ‘Asshole.’
Tassos laughed.
‘What’s the story with Katerina?’
‘She said she’d call me once she knows when and where her client will be in town. Not before one, at the earliest.’
‘Can you trust her?’
‘Absolutely. Not.’ Tassos smiled. ‘That’s the beauty of it. I know everything I tell her in confidence will get back to the Russian. She runs with the one who pays her bills.’
‘Sounds like a lawyer.’
‘God bless them. At least they’re predictable.’
‘What exactly did you tell her?’
‘That the chief of GADA’s special crimes unit wanted to talk to her oligarch of a client about an investigation that has absolutely nothing to do with him, and that we would be eternally grateful if she could arrange an “accidental” meeting. I impressed on her how important it was that her client not know the purpose of the inquiry, because this was to be a strictly backchannel, off-the-record conversation about a very serious issue.’
‘You’ve got to be kidding me.’
‘Andreas agreed that was the way to go. They’d find out everything anyway. It’s called priming the pump.’ He smiled.
‘And how did Mykonos’ number-one lawyer react?’
‘She wasn’t too hot about the idea until I reminded her that the chief was Andreas. She said “yes” and hung up so fast when I said his name that I had the image of a sprinter exploding off the blocks at the sound of a starter’s pistol, except this one was racing for a beauty parlor.’
Kouros laughed. ‘Should be an interesting night for the chief. I just don’t like the idea of him flying solo. He’s right, though, everyone here knows we’re cops. They’d get suspicious if they saw us hanging around.’
‘Don’t worry, cops like to play, too. I’ve got a few youngsters on the force from Syros, regulars on the Mykonos party scene to keep an eye on him. He’ll be covered. Besides, we get to share a night together in disguise in one of Mykonos’ lovely mini-hauler garbage trucks, trailing them about town recording their every word.’
‘With all the noise in those places, we’d be lucky to hear a bomb go off.’
Tassos shrugged. ‘At least we get to spend some quality time together.’
‘Yeah, like blind mice sitting together in a garbage truck.’
‘It could be worse. If this goes bad we could end up in the back.’