Che Committed Suicide (23 page)

‘What’s that got to do with it?’

‘A lot. In my circles, whether personal and professional ones, when men see a smart woman, they take to their heels. If I want to play the smart type, I’ll end up on the shelf. Men prefer the certainty of a simple girl so they can put their minds at rest.’ She paused and then continued. ‘You shouldn’t judge by your own daughter. She went to university, is doing a doctorate and has a doctor for a
boyfriend
. I have nothing of all that.’

‘How do you know about my daughter?’ I asked astonished.

‘Mrs Haritos told me the other day while we were making the baked aubergines.’

No doubt she also told her of her regret that Katerina didn’t know how to cook. ‘Don’t make it sound so tragic, there’s Aristopoulos,’ I said to tease her.

‘All Aristopoulos wants is to get me into bed,’ she said very calmly. ‘He’s desperate to make it as a company executive; he’s not about to get involved with a woman cop. If I say no to him a couple of times, he won’t call me a third time. And if I go with him a couple of times, he’ll disappear and the only way I’ll see him will be to arrest him.’ She smiled at me again. ‘There’s nothing you can say. I’ve looked at it from every angle.’

‘And are you going to spend the rest of your life playing the fool?’

‘Of course not!’ she said indignantly. ‘Once I’ve got a ring on my finger things will change!’

I turned and looked at her. I suddenly saw Adriani before me. At last I understood why the two of them got on so well together.

The heavens opened just as we were passing the old people’s home. We were in the underpass and above us we could hear a deafening noise. In less than two minutes from the start of the downpour, the roads in Athens had become jammed and the honking of horns began. We emerged from the underpass after about twenty minutes only to be attacked by a blast of rain that forced the Mirafiori to retreat. The windscreen wipers did their best but to no avail because the rain had created something like a blanket of mist and it was impossible to see further than three yards in front of you.

I decided to take Koula home first and then go to see
Sotiropoulos
because I couldn’t very well leave her to wait for the bus in all that rain. After all, Sotiropoulos would most likely arrive late too. On the way, I congratulated myself for not getting rid of the Mirafiori. It’s high off the ground like all the old cars and the water can’t touch it. The newer models are closer to the ground and are more like
floating
barges every time the roads of Athens turn into torrential rivers.

I dropped Koula off in Gyzi and went back up Kifissias Avenue to meet Sotiropoulos at the Flocafé. The rain continued to fall heavily but not with the same intensity. The parking lot behind the Flocafé was full. The attendant looked scornfully at the Mirafiori and
obviously
thought it an insult to have to find a place for it. He relented half-heartedly when I showed him my badge and told him I was on duty.

Sotiropoulos arrived half an hour later. He went around on a Harley Davidson and was drenched to the bone.

‘Time you woke up to the twenty-first century, old boy,’ he said indignantly. ‘Whoever heard of the Head of the Homicide Division not having a mobile phone?’

‘What would I use it for? So that the intended victim could call me to tell me he was about to be murdered?’

‘No, but so I could call you and cancel our meeting because of the rain.’

He hung his jacket over the back of the chair to dry and ordered a double whisky to warm himself up a little.

‘I watched your programme last night. I liked it.’

He turned to me and gave me an ironic look. ‘Really? From what I remember, I usually get on your nerves.’

‘Last night, you got on the others’ nerves and I thoroughly enjoyed it.’

He burst out laughing and took a gulp at his whisky. ‘That’s why I called you,’ he said, ‘because of the programme.’

I saw in his eyes that he was about to deliver a bombshell.

‘Do you remember that at one point the conversation turned to how well Favieros and Stefanakos knew each other?’

‘Yes, I remember.’

‘At exactly eleven, the programme was interrupted for a short news bulletin and adverts. Andreadis, one of the two opposition
politicians
, turned and said to the Minister: “How could they not have been on close terms given that they were doing business together?”’

As soon as I heard that, I knew my trip had been worth it despite the rain and the traffic. It was the first time I had had some
indication
that Favieros and Stefanakos were not just acquaintances or friends, but that they were actually involved in some business together. I didn’t know whether I should be glad or start to worry because now the situation might begin to get more complicated. I left the apportioning of gladness and worry for later and I asked Sotiropoulos:

‘Who was Stefanakos married to?’

‘Lilian Stathatos, have you heard of her?’ The name meant
something
to me but I couldn’t recall who she was. ‘She’s the daughter of Argyris Stathatos.’

As soon as I heard the father’s name, I remembered her
straightaway
. Argyris Stathatos had received favourable treatment from the Junta. He had managed to secure various permits, some legal, some illegal, in order to make himself into the leading hotel owner in Athens and the islands. He raked in money during the years of the Junta, but his hotels were built with interest-free loans and when the Junta fell, the banks began calling in the loans and Stathatos lost everything.

‘Is he still alive?’ I asked puzzled.

Sotiropoulos laughed. ‘God rest his soul! He died about ten years ago. At the height of his power, when he held sway during the Junta, his daughter was studying economics in London and presented herself as a revolutionary, against the Junta. She had cut off all
relations
with her father and told everyone she was studying with the little money that her grandmother had left her. You can believe it or not, anyhow the truth is that she lived very conservatively. When she returned to Greece, she started work as an executive in an
advertising
company and she and her father were eventually reconciled. Her father’s creditors didn’t want to have him put in prison because while he was still on the outside they had hopes of getting some of their money back by blackmailing him. On seeing her father’s demise, Lilian Stathatos understood that businesses requiring investment are a double-edged sword and you never know what might crop up. She was quick to foresee the future of TV ads and she set up her own company. It was at that time that she married Stefanakos, who was an up-and-coming young politician. She was very smart and quickly realised that the European Union had plenty of rich pickings for anyone who had their wits about them. And she was one of the first to open a consultancy bureau for European investment.’

What he told me left me speechless. ‘Do you keep files on
everything
?’ I asked him, thinking of Zissis.

‘No. I knew all about what happened during the period of the Junta. The rest I concluded from reading between the lines of what my guests said last night.’ He smiled as if recalling something. ‘Do you know what’s really funny? During the breaks, while they were all gossiping about Lilian Stathatos, the channel was broadcasting advertisements made by her company.’

‘So she still has the advertising company?’

‘Are you kidding? Everyone is dependent on Stathatos. She’s the one who decides what entertainment programmes the channel puts on the air. If there’s some programme or serial she doesn’t like, its adverts get cut.’

‘And what about the consultancy bureau?’

‘No idea. You’ll have to ask someone who works with
Mediterranean
Funding Programmes and the like. But compared to the
advertising
company, all that’s just peanuts.’

‘And what did Favieros have to do with all this?’

‘Do you expect me to do all your work for you?’ he said, taking another gulp at his whisky. ‘I’ve given you enough information to go on.’

‘At any rate, I don’t think Favieros went to Stathatos to advertise his construction company. I’ve never come across an advert for
construction
companies. As for his other business, most probably he wouldn’t want it advertised.’

Realising what I’d said I bit my tongue, but it was too late.
Sotiropoulos
cut straight to the chase.

‘You mean the real-estate agencies?’ He burst out laughing. ‘Horafas called me the moment you’d left his office to ask me if he was right to open up to you. I couldn’t understand why he was so worried.’

‘Because something doesn’t seem right to him, but he doesn’t know what it is.’

‘And what doesn’t seem right to him? Or are we about to start playing games again?’ he asked ironically.

We’d come too far for me to keep my cards to myself and I told him all that I’d found out about Favieros’s real-estate agencies. When I’d finished, he whistled in exclamation and then shook his head dejectedly.

‘You’ve no idea what you’re doing to me!’ he said. ‘A scoop like that and I have to keep it on ice because I’ve given you my word. Couldn’t I let slip something on the air? Just a few choice titbits?’

I ruled it out without discussion so he wouldn’t start trying to bargain with me. ‘Out of the question. We’ve already agreed. I’ll give you the whole exclusive story as soon as the case is closed.’

He suddenly turned to me with a worried look. ‘Does Ghikas know about all this?’

‘More or less.’

‘And who’s to guarantee that Ghikas won’t give the story to one of his own people first?’

‘He won’t’

He stared at me, holding his glass of whisky. ‘You must be walking around blindfolded. Where you are, in Security, every reporter has his own source. From your assistants to Yanoutsos and even higher. Do you think Ghikas, who’s got his sights set on making top dog, doesn’t have someone?’

‘That’s precisely why he won’t do it,’ I answered calmly. ‘Because he’s not crazy enough to reveal information from an unofficial source.’

My argument seemed to convince him because he emptied his glass. ‘Okay, I have to admit there’s some logic to that.’ Then he
suddenly
became aggressive again. ‘But if anything leaks out, I’m telling you I’ll put it all on the air.’

Outside, in the real air, only the wet curb indicated that it had been raining cats and dogs. Apart from that, the sky was crystal clear and the sun was shining. People were shut up in their offices and homes because of the rain and so I was in Aristokleous Street in less than fifteen minutes. But what was an advantage in terms of traffic was a disadvantage when it came to parking, because I couldn’t find a place anywhere and I circled the block for a good half an hour. After the umpteenth circle, I saw someone leaving and nipped into his space.

When I walked into the house, I heard the sound of the TV in the sitting room. I went in to say hello to Adriani but she wasn’t there. I found her ironing in the kitchen. She often did that: she did her chores listening to the TV in the background as a kind of radio substitute.

‘I’m surprised you’re not soaking wet,’ she said.

‘I was indoors and managed to avoid it.’

‘You were lucky. Some woman called for you.’

‘Who?’

‘I don’t know, she didn’t leave a name.’

‘Did you ask her?’

She put down the iron and looked at me with that high and mighty expression of hers that she always adopts when she’s about to make some caustic remark. ‘I thought that was why you brought Koula round here, to act as your secretary.’

‘I took her home so she wouldn’t get drenched in the rain.’

‘It’s a wonder you even thought of it. As for the woman who called, don’t worry yourself. If it’s serious, she’ll call back.’

I let her think she had reduced me to silence and I went into the sitting room to call Ghikas. I gave him a general update concerning my meeting with the Prime Minister’s adviser.

‘You handled it well,’ he said pleased. ‘Let him go on
believing
that you’re looking for evidence to incriminate the right-wing nationalists.’

Then I told him about the likelihood that Favieros was doing business with Stefanakos’s wife. There was a silence. When he spoke again, his voice sounded troubled.

‘If what you say turns out to be true, then I’m afraid we have the worst possible case scenario on our hands.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Murder, not by a pistol or knife, but by suicide. And how can you prove that and bring out into the open what’s hidden behind it?’

His argument was so solid that I hesitated momentarily. ‘Shall I go on investigating?’

‘Yes, perhaps we can prevent another suicide from happening.’

I hung up and racked my brains trying to decide where I would go from there. I had to find a discreet way of coming into contact with Lilian Stathatos, Stefanakos’s wife. I could simply pay her a visit, but if she didn’t have direct access to the Prime Minister, she would most certainly have access to his advisers and so it would get out that I wasn’t looking for evidence about the extreme rightists but about the relationship between her and Favieros.

Adriani was right, because the woman called back just as we were about to sit down for dinner. It was Coralia Yannelis.

‘Could we meet tomorrow, Inspector?’

‘Of course. At your office?’ I was trying to prevent her from
suggesting
that we met in my office at Security Headquarters given that it was temporarily occupied.

‘Do you mind coming to the Domitis offices? Mr Zamanis would like to be present.’

We arranged to meet at ten the following day. That phone call was the last thing I wanted. It could be something quite innocuous, on the other hand it could open up new wounds.

The sky was crystal clear, and the trees in Athens would have been smelling sweetly if there were any. This time, I myself was driving the Mirafiori and I was on my way to Domitis Construction. I had left Koula at home because I thought that Favieros’s heavy artillery executives might not be so ready to open up with her there. I had briefed her on what Sotiropoulos had told me the previous day and had asked her to investigate Stathatos’s companies to find me some evidence.