Read Online Devil of Delphi: A Chief Inspector Andreas Kaldis Mystery by Jeffrey Siger - Free Book Online Page A

good one. Now can we get to work?”
    Andreas described his conversation and a brief follow-up call that morning with the winemaker, and Kouros brought Tassos up to date on the details of his and Petro’s investigation.
    “Anything to add?” said Andreas to Petro.
    “Just that tomorrow’s Thursday, so we’re hoping to start moving up the supply chain once we get a bead on the new guy supplying bomba to Aleko’s club in Vouliagmeni.”
    Tassos nodded. “My guess is you’ll dead end at the same place the winemaker did, with an Eastern European name heading up a foreign crime family, but this time in Greece.”
    “Why do you say that?” said Andreas.
    “Because the three names the winemaker got for you through his lawyers are all Eastern European mobsters. Not a single one native to the country they’re working in. That sounds like a pattern.”
    Andreas nodded. “Could be.”
    “What do you mean ‘could be’? It’s a sure thing. I’ll bet you your carrots.”
    “No deal.” Andreas bit off another chunk. “If you’re right, what’s the common connection back to whoever’s behind it all?”
    “Could be the packaging,” said Kouros.
    “Maybe,” said Tassos, “but if the brains behind all this is taking such care to avoid any direct link to the people running all those separate EU country operations, I doubt you’ll find a visible hand in the packaging side of the business.”
    “But it is a place to look,” said Andreas.
    “I agree,” said Tassos,. “And we shouldn’t assume perfection on the part of the bad guys. I’ll see if I have any friends in the paperhanging business who might be able to give us a lead.”
    “Paperhanging business?” said Petro.
    “Counterfeiters. It all involves putting ink on paper to make the phony look real. It’s a small community, so maybe I’ll get lucky and come up with something.”
    Andreas smiled. “I knew you wouldn’t disappoint us. No one knows the sordid underbelly of our country better than you.”
    Tassos shifted in his chair and his jacket rose higher up on his belly, threatening to launch a button across the room. “I think you’re trying to compliment me, though it’s not quite coming across that way.” Tassos undid the button. “I’ve spent a career showing respect to people on all sides of the law and I’m very proud of that accomplishment.”
    “For which I’m eternally grateful. Almost as much as I am that…” Andreas pointed at Tassos with the carrot stub, “you unbuttoned your jacket.”
    Tassos threw Andreas a lazy, open palm equivalent of the middle finger.
    “What do you want us to do?” said Kouros.
    “For now, precisely as you’ve planned.” said Andreas. “That Thursday bomba guy is our only potential link back to whoever’s running things in Greece. If we find out who that is, we might be able to sweat him into giving us the big boss.”
    “Once we find him, I think putting his balls in a wine press will likely get us faster results,” said Tassos.
    “Or,” said Petro, picking the carrot up from his lap, lifting it above his head, and snapping it loudly in half.
    Tassos shifted his eyes from Petro’s broken carrot to Andreas. “I really like the new kid.”
    ***
    Two o’clock on a sunny summer day in Athens drew only the hardiest or most foolish to trek from Dionysiou Areopagitou pedestrian promenade at the base of the Acropolis up to the Parthenon at the top. A half-dozen or so young men straddled bicycles as they talked among themselves in the shade of a large plane tree, by the entrance to the path to the Parthenon.
    The bicyclists wore the bright yellow tee-shirts of a messenger company, matching racing caps, and all black Ray-Ban Wayfarer sunglasses. All but one carried messenger bags slung across their backs. The lone holdout wore his bag resting on his right hip. Kharon could reach his weapons quicker that way.
    He’d paid the others double their normal hourly earnings and given them the sunglasses