I unlocked my drawer and took out Karayoryi's file. I found the list with the Transpilar refrigerator trucks and compared the dates. The refrigerator truck run of June 20, 1991, recorded by Karayoryi, corresponded to the deposit made by Hourdakis on June 25, 1991, and subsequently by the rest of his family. Likewise on August 25, 1991. This time, Hourdakis's wife had deposited 200,000 on August 30, 1991, followed by the rest of the family, with the last deposit having been made by Hourdakis Jr. There was a series of deposits each time corresponding to the dates recorded by Karayoryi. There were also other deposits, along the same lines, that couldn't be linked to one of the recorded refrigerator trucks. Evidently, Karayoryi had discovered some of them but not all. The consignments were much more frequent, and I was certain that if we looked into it, we'd find that they continued with some other customs officer.
So that was the game, then. Hourdakis had got a one-milliondrachma backhander for each refrigerator truck. He received it in cash, but channeled it into four different accounts. Anyone looking at each account separately wouldn't have been able to see any amount worthy of note. It was only the combination of the four accounts that provided the true picture.
I left a note for Sotiris telling him that I wanted Hourdakis brought in for questioning the next day, and I left to go home via the bank.
CHAPTER 37
The following morning I took Adriani to Larissa Railway Station, together with three suitcases that were hardly liftable. On the previous night, when I'd got home, I had found her in front of three open suitcases that she'd placed on the bed, struggling to get her entire wardrobe inside them. She took her clothes out of one and put them in another, reorganizing everything, pushing shoes wrapped in plastic bags into the corners… In the end, I tired of watching, I took out my dictionary and made myself comfortable in the living room. By the time she'd finished, it was after midnight. I thought we'd make love, given that we wouldn't see each other for two weeks, but I had too much on my mind and Adriani was dead beat. She didn't have the energy to groan and fake an orgasm.
By the time I'd got the cases into the compartment, I was bent double. "Give my love to Katerina."
"So there's no possibility of your coming, then? Even for the weekend?" She knew the answer already, but she was having one last try, to not go down without a fight.
"Are you kidding? We're just beginning to get somewhere with the investigation, and there's no knowing yet where it's going to lead."
I kissed her on her right cheek, she gave me one on my left cheek, and I got off the train. She was leaning out of the window, but I had no intention of waving her off. I was in a hurry to get to the office.
"Call me tonight to let me know you've arrived safely."
The Mirafiori was waiting for me, squeezed into a little space on Philadelphia Street. It was already ten by the time I finally arrived at the station. Before going into my office, I called in on Sotiris.
"What did you do about Hourdakis?"
"We delayed and we lost him. He's gone away on a trip."
I was dumbfounded. "Trip? Where to?"
"To Macedonia and Thrace. So his wife said."
"By car?"
"No, by train or bus, she doesn't know exactly."
"Have his wife brought in." He looked at me in surprise. "Don't stand there gaping. Off with you. I want her in my office in an hour, together with her son. And find Hourdakis. Send a message to the Greek-Albanian border posts. He might be on his way to get rid of evidence that we don't know about."
A thought flashed through my mind, transfixing me. How come Hourdakis had vanished like that? Was it a coincidence? Like the murder of the Albanian before we'd been able to question him further? Hourdakis hadn't known we were on to him, so someone had tipped him off. Who? Someone from the bank? I'd have believed that if the business with the Albanian hadn't come before. The previous night, I'd left Sotiris a note to bring him in for questioning. Today he was gone.
I decided to tell Ghikas about it in order to be on the safe side. I was the one who'd asked him to delay the official investigation. I didn't want to pick up the pieces of some bombshell.
I was on my way out of my office when I found two men blocking the doorway. I recognized the first of them immediately. It was Demos Sovatzis. He was wearing a gray suit, made of English cashmere, a dark blue shirt, and a light-colored tie. His hair was swept back, like in the photograph. I wondered whether he combed it with brilliantine every morning or whether he had stuck it down to his head with fishglue, once and for all. The other man was fat and balding, older, also impeccably dressed. Thanassis was standing behind them.
I tried to guess the purpose of Sovatzis's visit. Up until now, we hadn't been anywhere near either him or Pylarinos. So he couldn't have known that we were after him. Could someone have told him that we'd picked up Dourou? Who? The one who was distributing information all around? The same one who had tipped off Hourdakis? And then again, why would he come out in full view instead of lying low and pretending indifference? I would have been glad of an answer to all of those questions, the better to know how to handle him, but I didn't have one.
"Mr. Sovatzis would like a word with you," I heard Thanassis say.
I stood aside and allowed them into my office. They sat in the two chairs and I went straight to my desk without offering them my hand.
"This is Mr. Starakis, my lawyer," Sovatzis said. "Just this morning, Inspector, I heard that you had arrested my sister."
So this was the answer to my questions. Dourou was Sovatzis's sister. It was the only answer that would never have occurred to me. I swallowed it slowly, like children do ice cream, the more to savor its taste.
"We are holding Mrs. Dourou for questioning."
"On what charge?" said the lawyer.
"We haven't charged her. Yet." I didn't want to show my hand, so I added vaguely: "We had a tip-off that her nursery cares for Albanian children who have been brought into the country illegally and who are there to be sold."
"Who gave you the tip-off?" said Sovatzis.
"I can't possibly tell you that."
"And you arrest a qualified child carer who runs a perfectly legitimate nursery on the strength of a tip-off?" The lawyer intervened again. "There may be other motives behind the tip-off. It may have been for competitive reasons or professional envy or mischief on the part of one of the parents. Any number of explanations."
"We asked Mrs. Dourou to provide us with the names and addresses of the parents who had handed the children into her care. Up to now, she hasn't given us even one name. She says that the parents came to Greece, left their children, and returned to Albania."
"And do you find that strange in this day and age?" Sovatzis said.
"I find it strange to the point of highly unlikely. No parent hands over their child into care without leaving so much as a telephone number in case of emergency."
"Telephones in Albania, Inspector?" Sovatzis found the idea amusing and smiled. "In Albania, not even the government ministries have telephones that work."
Now the lawyer started laughing. I opened my drawer and took out Karayoryi's photograph. The one with Sovatsis and his friend talking in the cafe. "Do you know this man?" I asked as I handed him the photograph.