Che Committed Suicide (12 page)

He puts his hands in the air in a gesture of ignorance. ‘Because I can’t,’ he said in a sincere tone. ‘From the moment I became an
eyewitness
to that terrible spectacle on TV, I’ve been racking my brains trying to find an answer but I can’t.’

‘Is it at all possible that he was being blackmailed by that
nationalist
organisation?’

He burst into laughter. ‘Come now, Inspector. If that was the case, I would have been the first to know and he certainly wouldn’t have kept it a secret from the police. And, when all’s said and done, if they were going to blackmail us on account of our foreign workers, they would have blackmailed all the Greek construction companies.’

‘Did he have any enemies?’

‘Of course. All the other public works contractors. We’re living in a world where everyone is against everyone else. We all began with dreams of other things but we’ve all ended up here. I don’t see anyone unhappy about it, however.’

‘Just before Favieros committed suicide, the reporter had asked about his connections with the government.’

Again he burst into laughter. ‘So? Would he commit suicide just because he got preferential treatment? It’s the hard-done-by who commit suicide, Inspector.’

I felt like giving up. All his answers were the ones I had thought of and they were sound ones. ‘Did he have any psychological problems?’

I asked with the logic that says when you’ve exhausted everything else, try your luck with psychology. It was the first time that
Zamanis
’s glibness faltered.

‘I’ve been asking myself the same question since that day,’ he said pensively. ‘The very way that he committed suicide shows an
individual
who is mentally disturbed.’ He paused again and fixed his eyes on the pencil holder on his desk as though trying to focus his thoughts. ‘Jason had been through a great deal, Inspector. I don’t know whether you are aware of his background …’

‘No.’

‘You should, really,’ he said, looking me in the eye somewhat provocatively.

‘Why’s that?’

‘Because he was one of the leading members of the resistance during the time of the Junta. He was subjected to terrible torture by the Military Police. Once they were afraid that he would die on them and they let him go because they didn’t want any trouble from abroad. All that left him with psychological traumas … Sudden changes of mood … affective disorders.’

‘Did he have any of these symptoms prior to his suicide?’

He reflected again. ‘If I were to interpret the signs with hindsight, yes. At the time, I didn’t pay much attention to them.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘He was – how shall I put it? – somewhat distant, as though his mind was elsewhere. He had turned everything over to me and shut himself up alone in his office. Once or twice when I went in, I found him playing games on his computer …’

‘How long was this before his suicide?’

‘A week or so … ten days at most …’

‘Can we take a look at his computer,’ Koula asked rather timidly.

I had told her that morning that Favieros had been doing the same at home. I was impressed that she had linked the two, but Zamanis gave her an ironic look.

‘Why? Do you think his playing on the computer is the reason behind his suicide?’

I could have stepped in to take him down a peg or two, but I decided to let Koula deal with it herself, to see how she would react. She blushed bright red, but didn’t swallow her tongue.

‘You never know what you might find on a computer. The most improbable things sometimes.’

Zamanis shrugged. He didn’t appear to be convinced by her
argument
, but he didn’t have any objection.

‘Jason’s office is on the same floor, but in the old building. It was in there that he had founded the company and he didn’t want to leave it. I’ll inform my secretary Mrs Lefaki.’

‘Between you and me, just what do you expect to find on the computer, Koula?’ I said to her once we were outside in the corridor. ‘You heard it from Zamanis. The fellow was playing patience.’

She stood in the middle of the corridor and stared at me with a look full of pity. ‘Do you know what I do when I have a classified document open on my computer? I open a game of patience as well. Whenever anyone comes into the office unannounced, I maximise the patience and cover the document. Everyone thinks I’m killing time playing patience, but that’s how I hide the classified documents from prying eyes.’

She had floored me, though personally I had never seen her playing patience. Perhaps because it didn’t matter to her if I appeared unannounced; the most likely explanation, however, was that quite simply I never looked to see what was on her computer screen.

We headed back the way we came, without an escort this time. The decor in the neoclassical building was at the other extreme. Rather like entering a company at the start of the previous century that traded in comestibles and colonial wares. The centre was
dominated
by a large drawing room, of the kind where
bals masqués
were held in the old mansions, with white doors all around. The doors had no plaques like the one Ghikas had fixed to the door of his office. Evidently so as not to spoil the aesthetics of the place, but that meant that we had to try all of them until we found Favieros’s office.

We came across a third fifty-year-old woman. This one was tall, blonde, impeccably dressed, and, naturally, without any make-up.

‘Come in, Inspector,’ she said as soon as we opened the door. She didn’t seem to notice Koula either, and this was starting to annoy me because I had the impression that they all saw us rather like a tow truck with its load.

Lefaki opened a door to her right and ushered us into Favieros’s office. Koula stopped in the doorway, turned round and looked at me speechless. My surprise was no less, because suddenly we found ourselves in a lawyer’s office from the fifties, with its black leather couch, black leather armchairs, heavy curtains and an enormous walnut desk. The only modern items were a computer screen and keyboard on the desk. Just look at that, I thought to myself, totally different decor from that in his house. And a totally different decor from that in the offices of his associates. In the end, you were totally confused, because you simply couldn’t tell who the real Favieros was.

Lefaki noticed our bewilderment and smiled slightly. ‘You’ve guessed right,’ she said. ‘He had his father’s law office moved here just as it was.’

Koula headed straight for the computer. Before switching it on, she glanced at Lefaki, as though asking her permission.

‘There’s no problem,’ she said, ‘Mr Zamanis notified me.’

I left Koula tinkering with the machine and went outside with Lefaki. She was the one who saw Favieros more than anyone and perhaps she could verify what I had been told by the Thai butler and Zamanis.

‘Had you noticed any change of late in Jason Favieros?’ I asked her.

Her answer came spontaneously, as with those people who have no doubt about what they say: ‘Yes, he had changed of late.’

‘How? Can you explain?’

She reflected a moment before giving her answer.

‘He had inexplicable ups and downs. From being hyperactive, he would suddenly sink into complete inactivity. At one moment, he would suddenly explode and shout his head off without cause, the next he would go into his shell and tell me no one was to disturb him.’

‘Wasn’t he always like that?’

‘Jason? Where did you get that idea? He was always amiable, always with a smile and a friendly word. Everyone in here called him by his first name. If you called him “Mr Favieros”, he would get upset.’

She suddenly broke into tears, silent tears that were revealed more from the jerking of her shoulders than from the sound of her crying. ‘I’m sorry, but whenever I talk about him, I see that frightful scene on the TV before my eyes.’ She wiped her tears with the back of her hand. ‘I’m sure I’ll still see it when I’m in my grave with my eyes closed.’

‘What did he do when he shut himself up in his office?’ I asked in order to stop her sinking any further.

‘He’d sit in front of his computer. One day, to tease him. I said: “What are you doing all day in front of your computer? Writing a novel?” “I’ve already written it and I’m checking it for corrections”, he said in all seriousness.’

Koula came out of the office.

‘I’m done, Inspector.’

We said goodbye to Lefaki and left the room. I avoided the lift and took the stairs in order to marvel a little longer at the
neoclassical
building.

‘I need a programme for detecting deleted files,’ Koula said on the way down.

‘Why?’

‘Because I didn’t find anything. And because I don’t believe that Favieros was playing patience or rummy on his computer, that means that someone has deleted whatever it was he was working on.’

I found her explanation logical. ‘And where will you get hold of such a programme?’

‘My cousin is a wizard at things like that.’

We were already outside on the street when she stopped suddenly and looked at me. ‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Go ahead.’

‘Why did Favieros only have fifty-year-olds in his company. He could have taken on one or two young girls, who are dying to find work.’

‘Because he’d obviously hired all his old acquaintances from his years in the resistance.’ She stared at me speechless. ‘What are you looking at me for? The kids of police officers get preference in recruitment to the police academy. The kids of army officers get preference in recruitment to the cadet academy. And in Favieros’s company, preference was given to his comrades from the resistance. Never mind what the Philip of Macedon lot say, in Greece everyone takes care of his own.’

I didn’t seem to have convinced her, but she didn’t dare voice any objections.

Late that afternoon, I phoned Ghikas at home to find out if there had been any developments in the murder of the two Kurds. Not that I had changed my mind and believed that the murder was
connected
with Favieros’s suicide, but because something might have turned up in the investigation that would be useful to me.

‘Don’t expect anything,’ Ghikas told me.

‘Why?’

‘Because Yanoutsos is still looking for Mafiosos.’

‘It’s not the work of Mafiosos,’ I said categorically. ‘It’s what was announced: execution by nationalists belonging to that Philip of Macedon organisation.’

‘Try telling him.’

I was almost for telling him that it was his job to make him change his line of investigation, but I knew he was keeping quiet on purpose. He was letting him dig a hole for himself to fall into.

‘But I might have something new in a few days.’

‘How? Are you going to persuade Yanoutsos to look elsewhere?’

‘No, but I think I’ve found a way to dump the case on the
Anti-terrorist
Squad. Did you come up with anything new?’

I told him without going into detail about my visits to Favieros’s home, to his construction site and his offices.

‘So nothing suspicious?’ he asked me as though not believing it.

‘I told you. He was somewhat distant, lost his temper easily and shut himself in his office.’

‘Why? Why would a businessman like Favieros put himself into self-confinement when normally his day should be full of meetings and conferences? Ask me what I have to go through!’ he said,
emphasising
the last phrase and reminding me of the old Ghikas, who had only one point of reference: himself. But then, straightaway, he posed the very same question that had been bothering me: ‘Was there something unusual that had happened to Favieros? Why did he suddenly leave everything and withdraw into himself when, so it seems, he had no business or personal worries?’

I had no answer and so I confined myself to simply supplying him with a bit of information. ‘Koula had a quick look at the computer in his office, but she told me it needed more thorough investigation.’

‘You can trust her when it comes to those things. She’s a real wizard!’ He paused for a moment and then added: ‘And if someone from Favieros’s close circle wants to contact the police, give them my name and no one else’s.’

We hung up and, if nothing else, at least I had the satisfaction that he had given me a crutch to steady myself when I was stumbling in the dark.

Adriani was sitting in front of the TV, watching a game show. I wasn’t in the mood to hear her answer all the questions correctly and then listen to her moaning about all the millions she’d lost. I went into the bedroom to find Dimitrakos. I was stopped, however, by the sound of the doorbell and I went to see who it was. Fanis was standing at the door holding a paper bag in his hand and smiling. I imagined it must have been a little something for Adriani because he’d often bring her little gifts as a way of repaying her for all the cooking she did for him.

I was proved wrong, however, because he held the bag out to me. ‘Something from your daughter,’ he said.

‘From Katerina?’

‘Yes, a little gift.’

My surprise increased because Katerina was not in the habit of sending me gifts from Thessaloniki. She even saved money on the heating so as not to be a burden on me. I opened it straightaway and discovered a book with a cheap, garish cover, white, red and black, which reminded me of history books and resolutions by the Greek Communist Party. Its title was:
Jason Favieros. From the Dungeons of the Military Police to the Salons of the Stock Exchange
. The author was someone by the name of Minas Logaras and the name of the publisher was Sarantidis. I flicked through it mechanically and saw that it was 320 pages long.

I was not in the least surprised that some people were trying to exploit Favieros’s spectacular suicide. What did puzzle me, however, was how the author managed to write and publish a 320-page
biography
in the space of only ten days after Favieros’s suicide? Unless they had had it ready and were releasing it now. Just a coincidence? Perhaps, perhaps not.