Assassins of Athens

'Okay, so what did you talk about?'

'Nothing about the case, I assure you.'

'Just tell me.'

'None of your business.'

He drew in and let out a breath. 'Okay, tell me the part that is my business.'

'Fine. He said he bumped into you on the plane from Mykonos and got the impression you met someone there you liked but didn't have time to see her. I asked for her name and where she was staying.'

'That's all he said?'

'Yes, that's all he said.' She snickered.

'Uhh… what about the note?'

'What about it?'

'What did it say?'

'I miss you desperately. Marry me.'

'Maggie!'

'Sorry I had to leave. Hope you understand. Kisses, Andreas.'

He paused. 'Thank you. That was very nice of you.'

'You're welcome.'

'So, when are you going to see Tassos?' He knew that was inevitable.

'He'll be in Athens tomorrow.'

'That's quick, he must be interested.'

'Let's hope, but he won't have time to see me, he's catching a plane.'

'To where?'

'Didn't say, but my guess is Italy.'

Andreas' pulse jumped. 'Why do you say Italy?'

'Because I offered to cook dinner. He said he couldn't make it for dinner, that he had to catch a plane but lunch was open. I said I had to work. He said "too bad" because it looked like he was going to be eating only pasta for a while. See what I give up for you.'

'Thanks, Maggie,' and he hung up.

Andreas picked up a pencil with his right hand and studied it. Then he talked to it. 'What are you up to, my old friend? Are you with the good guys or the bad guys? Or haven't you decided?' His thumb was in position to snap the pencil to pieces. 'Do I trust you or don't I? Should I or shouldn't I? To press or not to press, that is the question.'

Andreas compromised. He threw the pencil against the wall and went home. Demon posted a typical Facebook message on the 'wall' of an innocent account holder who had agreed to be a friend of Gertrude Louise. The account belonged to a celebrated member of Parliament with thousands of Facebook friends, most of whom the member didn't know. But politicians didn't say no to someone asking to be their friend. Of the thousands of other friends who might read his message, Demon only cared about the one with a computer instantly alerting him to any Facebook postings by Gertrude Louise.

Demon sat staring at his computer, waiting for a reply. He reread his message: I have a once in a lifetime marketing opportunity that requires printing 300,000 fliers by tomorrow. Please, only respond with the name of a printer who can do it tomorrow. It's either tomorrow or never. Thanks, Gertrude Louise.

Demon wondered when he'd hear back. If the Old Man wanted results he'd have to pay. Demon didn't mention the forty million because it wasn't relevant, and the whole mess of them wouldn't pay that much for their cause anyway. Their commitment had a financial price tag: three hundred thousand euros maybe, forty million no chance. The big payoff would come from Kostopoulos. Damn well better. Otherwise, Demon was fucked. But he wasn't worried. Kostopoulos had the money and no choice but to pay, assuming he had a soul. Demon was willing to take that gamble. He wasn't sure he'd take the same bet on the Old Man.

'Ping.' The message he was waiting for:

Printers are hard to find on such short notice.

'Arrogant bastard.' He said the words aloud. Demon's immediate reaction was to reply, but he didn't. His first message said it all. Either the Old Man came up with the money or he didn't. Demon couldn't do anything more about it. But if he didn't pay and Kostopoulos learned who was behind his son's murder, the Old Man and a lot of others would damn well wish he had.

The more Demon thought about it, the more he saw a potential upside to Kostopoulos killing the Old Man and a few of the others. It would galvanize the rest into rallying behind him. Then he'd deal with Kostopoulos, assuming Kostopoulos didn't take him out first and that Efisio was satisfied with Anna as his consolation for no three hundred thousand euros.

On balance, Demon decided to pray that the money turned up by tomorrow. It was easy finding Tassos' flight but not so easy finding him. Andreas finally caught up to him in the airport security office, sitting around a card table arguing over soccer with two cops.

'Afternoon, Tassos.'

Tassos looked surprised. 'Andreas. What are you doing here?' He paused. 'Maggie.'

Andreas smiled. 'Glad she surprises you, too.'

Tassos grinned. 'Always has. So, to what do I owe the honor of this visit?'

Andreas looked at the two cops. 'Could you guys give us a few minutes?'

Andreas waited until they left. 'I think the time for bullshit has passed. Why are you flying to Milan?'

'You don't want some witty answer, do you?'

'No.'

'Our mutual friend is sending me.'

'I hope you're talking about Kostopoulos.'

'Who else?'

'Why Milan?'

'Now you're getting a bit too personal.'

Andreas leaned forward. 'Personal is receiving bits and pieces of your wife and kids cut off with a tree-pruner.'

Tassos' eyes narrowed slightly. 'What are you talking about?'

'That's the way it's done by these guys.'

'What guys?'

'The ones who soon will be asking a forty million euro ransom from Kostopoulos.'

'Is this for real?'

'Picked it up from phone calls. We think we found the link between the muscle and the brains.'

'I won't bother to ask who the link is because I know you won't tell me, but I can't believe these guys are dumb enough to pull this shit while they're in the middle of negotiations with Zanni. They stand to make a lot more than forty million. At least they think they do.'

Andreas shook his head. 'Different guys, brand new ones. Give me who's negotiating with Zanni and I'll give you what I have on the new ones for you to worry about.'

Tassos paused. 'Greece's usual suspects from the drug trade. Albanian mobsters teamed up with home-grown Greek bad boys. They work together a lot. No surprise.'

'That's like saying they're AEK fans. Too many of them. Give me a name.'

'I take offense to your using my soccer team for the comparison.'

'It's the best I can say about them.' Andreas grinned.

'So, tell me a bit more.'

Tassos loved to horse-trade, but this time Andreas didn't mind, because he intended to tell him what he knew anyway. No way he'd let Tassos fly off blind into this mess. 'They're Italians, specializing in kidnapping, living in exile away from Italian authorities somewhere in the Balkans. We have a first name for one, Efisio, about five feet tall, late thirties. Here,' Andreas handed him a photograph and pointed. 'We think this one is Efisio. It was taken yesterday.'

'That's it?'

'Fuck you.'

Tassos grinned. 'The one negotiating with Zanni is tied into the Greek-Albanian crew behind the Angel Club in Athens.'

'Since when are Albanians involved in the Angel Club?'

Tassos smiled. 'Consider it a simple case of consumer fraud. Albanian drugs are the kind of street shit stepped on and sold to druggies around Omonia and Exarchia. It wholesales for about one-half the price of the Angel Club boys' homegrown Greek stuff. So, the guys behind the Angel worked out a deal where they exchange one kilo of theirs for two of the Albanians, then sell it in the club as their own pricier stuff. Most of their customers can't tell the difference between vodka and gasoline. Makes it a no-brainer and doubles their profits.'

Andreas shook his head. 'Greeks, the most adaptive entrepreneurs in the world. Anything else?' said Andreas.

Tassos pressed on the table and stood up. 'No, just thanks, my friend. I appreciate the heads-up.'

But Andreas knew something else was coming. 'What is it?'

Tassos smiled. 'Something you won't want to hear, but since you asked.' He put his hand on Andreas' shoulder. 'If you found the link, why not just take it out and call it a day.' He dropped his hand.