Now I realized why Karayoryi had persisted in asking me whether the Albanians had any children. She believed that their murder had been connected with either the selling or the abduction of children and had wanted to point me in that direction. I leaned back, closed my eyes, and tried to bring the image of her into my mind. Strange woman. She'd had Petratos as her lover and at the same time had despised him. And yet she'd trusted me, though she knew I disliked her, and Kostarakou, who had every reason to hate her.
Petratos wasn't N. I was virtually certain that his handwriting wouldn't match. The unknown N was the one who had asked her for the file and who was threatening her. And it was certain that this was Karayoryi's bombshell. But who had given her the information from our own files? Whose palm had she been greasing? I knew only too well what the consequences of that discovery would be, and I didn't want be burdened with any more responsibilities. My points total was already like my bank account, in the red. I picked up the phone and asked Koula to put me through to Ghikas.
He answered with a sharp yes.
"I need to see you right away."
"I'm busy. If it's about your report, send it to me."
"It's not about the report. It's something much more serious."
"In connection with the case?"
"Yes, but it also has a connection with us. Someone was feeding Karayoryi information from our files."
Silence for a moment, then "Come up," and the line went dead.
I collected Karayoryi's file, put it back into Antonakaki's plastic bag, and made for the elevator.
CHAPTER 26
The files lay open before him. To his right was the large file with the photographs and Karayoryi's lists; to his left was the blue file with the photocopies of our reports. Ghikas's attention was focused on the first. I was standing watching him. I'd put the Kodak envelope underneath so he'd look at the newspaper clippings first.
"Pylarinos!" he shouted, and pulled his hand away as if he'd burnt it.
"There's more."
He glared at me, not having decided yet whether he should be surprised or afraid. He took in the thickness of the file and decided to be afraid. He took a deep breath and began thumbing through it. He saw the rest of the clippings, the map, and Karayoryi's lists. He looked desperate.
"What do you intend to do with all this?" he asked me. "As if Petratos wasn't enough, now we've got Pylarinos to deal with. It appears his hands are dirty, but that doesn't necessarily mean that he killed the two women or that he had someone do it for him. The two things may be quite unconnected. So what do you intend to do?"
I knew what I was going to do, but I was keeping it to myself. "Whatever you tell me. You're in charge of the investigation."
He looked at me. "Sit down," he said.
He'd only just spotted that I was being cold and formal with him. He leaned forward and put on a friendly expression, even intimate, as if we were old childhood buddies.
"Listen, Costas, you're a good officer. You've got brains and you're eager. But you have one fault. You're unbending. You don't know how to be flexible. You jump in headfirst, come up against a wall, and bang your head on it. When you're dealing with people like De lopoulos or Pylarinos, you have to be as slippery as an eel, or they'll wrap you up in a sheet of paper and throw you in the wastepaper basket."
I kept quiet because I knew he was right. I was unbending, and whenever I got something into my head, I was unable to let it go, no matter where it led me.
"I said that I was personally taking charge of the investigation to take the pressure off you and to protect you. Last night, after Delopoulos left, I told the minister that you were the only one who could solve the case. You just have to be a bit more discreet and keep me posted so that I can watch your back."
Was he telling me all this because he believed it or because he wanted to demonstrate to me how to be as slippery as an eel? After having me up for suspension, now he was playing my guardian angel. As soon as he realized he was going to get involved with Pylarinos, he'd turned tail and was trying to get himself out of it.
"So, tell me then, what do you intend to do?"
"I'll send a written request to customs to find out what the refrigerator trucks that Karayoryi refers to were carrying. I'll ask at the airport to find out if there are passenger lists for the groups and the charter flights."
"And if there aren't?"
"I won't do anything for the time being. I don't want to have to ask for them from Pylarinos's company because it'll create suspicion, and we don't want that. I'll send the film to be developed so that we can see what's on it. And I'll question the Greeks who went to Prague, Warsaw, and Budapest. I want to know why they went."
"But how are we going to get close to Pylarinos without stirring up a hornets' nest?"
"I know someone who can give us information. He's not one of us. He's a personal friend of mine and I can't reveal who he is. But he's a reliable source."
He looked at me and smiled. "Okay. What's going to happen with Petratos?"
"I will wait for the report on the handwriting and the lab report on the wire. But, just between us, I'm not too optimistic. The wire's the common variety-you can find it at any hardware shop. As for the letters, I no longer believe that they were written by Petratos. No, they were written by whoever wanted the file from Karayoryi. It's not out of the question that the two cases are unconnected, as you said, and that Petratos is the murderer. But it requires further investigation." I remained silent and looked at him. "There's something else. Good news."
I told him about Kolakoglou. He listened to me and his face lit up. "Why didn't you tell me before?" he said enthusiastically.
He grabbed the telephone and told Koula to get Delopoulos on the line. I gazed at him, amazed. He noticed and smiled.
"You're wondering what I'm doing, right?" he said. "Now you'll see what it means to be flexible."
When Delopoulos came on the line, he told him everything, apart from the name and address of the bar. He put the phone down, obviously pleased with himself. "Delopoulos is over the moon. From now on, he'll call me. He'll leave you alone to get on with your work. And something else. I want those two reports, yours and the other one on Kolakoglou, to send to the minister. You have to know how to keep mouths shut."
His gaze turned to the other file, the blue one. He opened it and skimmed through it quickly. Slowly he raised his head. "You understand that I'm obliged to order an immediate internal inquiry," he said.
"I understand, but I would prefer you to delay it."
Why.
"First of all, Karayoryi's dead and she's not going to steal any more reports from us. But whoever was providing her with them may have some deeper involvement. Now he's not worried, because he thinks that no one's on to him. If you order an internal inquiry, you'll alert him. Let's proceed with the investigation and see what other evidence comes up."
"All right," he said after reflecting for a moment. "I'll inform the minister orally and tell him that I'll delay it." He collected the file and handed it to me. "Lock it in your drawer. It would be better if no one else knew of its existence."
I was so eager to get going that I didn't have the patience to wait for the elevator. I went down the stairs two at a time. When I turned into the hall, I saw the familiar throng at my door.
"To Superintendent Ghikas for any statements. As you know, he's taken charge of the case"
They knew and didn't press me. They began moving toward the elevator. Sotiropoulos pretended to follow them but stayed behind.
"Can we have a word?"