“Going for older women these days?” I asked.
He laughed. “Hey, she’s not bad looking for an old lady and flirting with the ladies is good for business. But, you know, I find it hard to believe that any of these old gals could be criminals.”
“My aunt isn’t a criminal,” I said, pounding my fist on the table, hard enough that everyone grabbed their drinks.
“All right, all right,” Lonnie said and put his arm around me. “Don’t get riled. It’ll give you wrinkles.”
I forced a smile but shrugged out of the hug and looked to Yannis. “Would now be a good time to call on the landlord?”
“Yes, he’s probably in about this time.”
“Thank you, Yannis.” I squeezed his arm. He was being a dear, and I appreciated his graciousness even though Zach’s presence disgruntled him.
“Lonnie, thanks for agreeing to be the front man with the widows. The rest of us look like we’ve spent the day at the beach. I could use a shower and some chow.”
“Come,” Yannis said. “You can shower at our place. My mother will have lots of food. I’ll go by to see Mr. Philipides while you’re recharging.”
We downed our drinks, and Lonnie settled the bill with Kevin at the bar.
“Where you off to?” Kevin wanted to know.
“To meet some smugglers,” Lonnie said.
“Right,” Kevin said,”and I’m a Palestinian terrorist.”
“You just don’t know.” Lonnie winked at me and that gave me pause.
Cyprus is tucked up into the Eastern armpit of the Mediterranean formed by Turkey, Syria, Lebanon and Israel, not a day’s boat trip away and an even shorter flight by jet. For thousands of years it’s been the crossroads of the Mediterranean Sea. Given the upheaval in Middle East, we might not like what was under some of the rocks we turned over.
“How’d it go?” I greeted Lonnie when he arrived back at Yannis’s house. He took a place at the family dining table where Mother Vasilis had cleared a place. The table was smothered in food. Fresh fruit, rice, lamb kebobs, salad, goblets, glasses, coffee cups. The heavenly smell of rosemary and garlic laced with coffee drifted in the air. Yannis had just sat down and was loading a plate. Zach was still working on his. I was having coffee.
Lonnie grinned. “Mrs. Crawford and I had a nice chat, even though she was on her way out and didn’t have a lot of time for an unexpected guest. But I found out something real interesting.” He paused for dramatic effect. “She said that Elizabeth had an admirer while she was here, an Italian by the name of Salvatore Bellomo, who’s in wine and olives. He took a tour one day with us, now that I think about it. Did you know your aunt had a beau?”
“A beau?” I said, trying to buy myself a little time to recover from the surprise. My aunt had never exhibited much interest in men. She was the kind of woman that seemed to enjoy having them around but didn’t need one to make her life complete.
“Mrs. Crawford said that Mr. Bellomo seemed to be quite taken with your aunt.”
“That’s hard to believe. My aunt is a confirmed spinster.” Or I thought she was. Another niggling doubt took its place by the double identity one.
“Maybe there’s more to your aunt than you realize,” Lonnie said.
“Don’t start that again, Lonnie.” I gave him a squinty eyed look. “A beau just seems out of place for her.”
I wasn’t going to admit that doubt devils had taken up residence on my shoulder. Maybe I didn’t know my aunt as well as I thought I did. A beau was so unlike her. So was smuggling.
“I remember,” Lonnie said, taking a slug of beer, “that Mr. Bellomo was a quiet guy, dressed expensive, very neat and drove a white Mercedes with gold trim.”
“Oh, great, an Italian in olives with gold trim.”
“And wine.”
“Next you’ll tell me he is from Sicily.”
“Don’t know, but we can track him down. He has an office in Limasol. We can go over there tomorrow after you spring your aunt. She might like to see him again.”
Lonnie grinned.
I was not amused.
My cell phone rang, and I fished in my purse. Lena, my partner, was calling. I got up and walked into the hall.
“How’re things going?” she asked.
I filled her in on my frustration with not being able to get my aunt out of jail and of the investigative team I had put together or rather that had fallen together.
“I think I’d better come over to help balance the team. Sounds like it’s a little heavy on the testosterone.”
I laughed. “Sure fly over. One more amateur sleuth won’t hurt.”
“Claudie, I’ve been doing a little checking around like you asked. Did you know that all kinds of heavy hitters are involved in antiquities smuggling? Like gallery owners, auction houses, museums, insurers, security companies, collectors, the Mafia and, get this, law enforcement agencies.”
“This is getting complicated.”
“Art crime is the third most lucrative criminal activity in the world, right behind drugs and arms trafficking. Guess who has the most voracious market?”
“The U.S.?”
“Right.”
“I had no idea though I can’t say I’ve had much interest up to this point.”
“But there’s more bad news. Terrorists deal in the market.”
“To finance terror,” I said. Here we sat right off the coast of the Middle East. Great.
I let go a big sigh. “This is not good. We’re going from petty theft to major league crime. I can feel my stomach knotting up.”
“You need to hire a lawyer to protect your aunt.”
“You’re right. Thanks, Lena. If you find out anything else, give me a call, any time, day or night. I’ll be staying at Yannis’s tonight. I don’t know what will happen after tomorrow morning. I’ll let you know.”
“Okay, and Claudie? Don’t worry about things back here. I got the info you emailed. I agree with your buy and sell recommendations. I can handle this for now. Get things straightened out over there and come back soon. Take care.”
I hung up and studied the icon of Saint George the Dragon Slayer that hung on the wall next to the entry way mirror. I might need a dragon slayer. Real soon.
I returned to the group around the table and gave them a rundown of my conversation with Lena. Mother Vasilis, humming a happy tune, moved around the table clearing dishes and replenishing food and coffee.
“We haven’t had problems with terrorists that I know of,” said Yannis. “We’ve had more problems with organized crime on the island. Back in 1995 a big scandal hit that involved the upper echelons of the police in gangland shootings and car bombings. Mafia kingpins fight over gambling, drugs and prostitutes. Smuggling could be in their league.”
I hoped Lena was wrong about the terrorists. The thought made my skin crawl. I couldn’t get excited about running into members of the Mafia either. Was Salvatore Bellomo connected?
Zach had been silent, but now he spoke up. “Do you know a good lawyer, Yannis?”
“Sure,” he said. “My brother-in-law. He lives in Limasol. Lawyers are a tight group on Cyprus, and he’s well-connected. He’ll know what to do. He arranged bond.”
“What did Mr. Philipides say?” Lonnie asked.
“He says,” said Yannis, “that the ladies in question are loaded with money. His cousin, who lives in London, referred them. They always pay their rent in advance. Mrs. Crawford seems to have some business savvy so he deals with her. They aren’t extravagant in an obvious way. And get this, his cousin said that Mrs. Crawford enjoys art collecting.”
“Does she enjoy it enough to steal is the question?” Zach said. “Does she prefer art or antiquities or isn’t she particular. Would she frame a fellow tourist?”