Che Committed Suicide (27 page)

She reflected for a moment. ‘I have to admit that it’s not so natural,’ she answered. ‘But it may just be a coincidence. This Logaras fellow may simply have wanted to exploit all the fuss in order to sell books.’

‘The biographies had been sent to the publishers three months previously and more or less on the same day. Whoever this Logaras is, he knew very well what was going to happen.’

She was thinking about it, either because I had convinced her or because she was searching for some counter-argument, when the secretary came in and whispered something in an agitated fashion in Yannelis’s ear. As soon as Yannelis heard it, she jumped up out of her chair.

‘What? When?’

‘Just two minutes ago,’ replied the secretary, leaving the office and closing the door behind her.

Yannelis turned to me. ‘There’s no need for you to continue with your investigations into the causes of the suicides, Inspector,’ she said slowly. ‘Just a short while ago the police arrested three members of that nationalist organisation …’

‘Philip of Macedon?’

‘Yes. They’ve been charged with the murder of the two Kurds and as accessories before the fact in the suicides of Jason Favieros and Loukas Stefanakos.’

‘When did this happen?’

‘It’s just been announced in a special news bulletin.’

I don’t remember how I got to Aristokleous Street. I suppose I must have been led by my reflexes – both in my choice of route and in my observance of the highway code. As for the rest, the only
collision
I tried to avoid throughout the journey was the one between my thoughts and my feelings. On the one hand, I was trying to think calmly in order to understand what was behind this act, and on the other my thoughts were being confounded by my anger and indignation.

I barged into the sitting room and found Adriani, as every evening, with the remote control in her hand.

‘Where on earth have you been? All hell’s broken loose!’ she shouted, as though I’d been down to the beach at Varkiza for a swim.

I stood facing the screen waiting anxiously for the world-
shattering
news, but the TV was earning its name as the gogglebox. A
presenter
was testing the general knowledge of two young contestants. He was apparently overjoyed when they gave a right answer and he had to pay out and grief-stricken when they got it wrong and he saved his money. I grabbed the remote control and began switching channels, but I ended up flicking from one piece of tripe to the next.

‘Don’t be like that,’ Adriani said by way of consolation. ‘They’ve been putting it on every hour. It was on at seven, and it’s sure to be on again at eight.’

It was the voice of years of viewing experience so I gave up. I waited for fifteen minutes for the programme to end and another ten minutes for the ads to finish. Finally, after half an hour, the title appeared:
ARREST OF RIGHT-WING EXTREMISTS FOR MURDER OF TWO KURDS AND AS ACCESSORIES IN SUICIDES OF FAVIEROS-STEFANAKOS.

The same instant, three close-cropped, brawny types appeared on the screen. They were handcuffed with two of our lot on either side of them and were walking down the familiar corridor outside my office. The first was wearing a T-shirt with some monster from hell depicted on it. The other two were so close together that their trademarks weren’t visible. Lined up along the sides of the
corridor
were reporters trying to thrust their microphones in the faces of the youths. The questions were coming thick and fast: ‘What do you have to say about the charges against you? Did you kill the two Kurds? How did you feel when you shot them? What do you think about racism? How did you convince Favieros and Stefanakos to commit suicide?’ The youths had their heads bowed and didn’t answer, while the police officers were pushing them in an effort to break through the ring of reporters. As soon as they disappeared, the main attraction was gone and the screen split into various windows.

‘The arrest of the three suspects took place today at three in the afternoon following a coordinated operation on the part of the police,’ said one reporter, who had made his appearance just prior to my being shot. ‘The suspects are Stellios Birbiroglou, aged
twenty-three
, unemployed, Nikos Seitanidis, aged twenty-two, a student at the Physical Education Academy, and Haralambos Nikas, aged twenty-five, an electrician by trade. All three are are being held at Security Headquarters, where their interrogation is ongoing.’

‘Have the police made any statement, Vaso?’ the newscaster asked.

‘Yes. We have a statement from the Head of Homicide, Inspector Polychronis Yanoutsos.’

‘And when on earth did he take over your position,’ Adriani asked in astonishment.

‘As I’m on sick leave, someone had to fill my position.’

‘Yes, but shouldn’t they say that he’s only standing in for you?’

‘Now you’re asking for too much.’

Nevertheless, I was surprised that it was Yanoutsos who was making the statements and not Ghikas. Ghikas considered
statements
to the press his own little domain. How come he was letting Yanoutsos trespass on his patch and in such an important case too? Yanoutsos read out the the previously prepared statement from a piece of paper, but the microphones pressed up close to his mouth made him feel uneasy and he coughed at every second word.

‘Already, following the suicide of the businessman Jason
Favieros
, and the ensuing statement by the Philip of Macedon National Greek Front, there was evidence that the aforementioned nationalist organisation was planning to proceed to blackmailing well-known figures and even to political murders. Following the murder of the two Kurds, both of whom were employed on the construction site of Domitis Construction, owned by Jason Favieros, the police began a coordinated operation in order to apprehend the guilty parties. We are now in a position to state that the culprits had been blackmailing Jason Favieros and Loukas Stefanakos for many months, applying more and more pressure and eventually causing both to commit suicide.’

I was spinning in a huge vacuum. First of all, I had never heard anything about the police having had their eye on the Philip of Macedon National Front. And even if they had, it was work for the Anti-terrorist Squad and not for my department, even less for Yanoutsos, who until just previously had been looking for Mafiosos in order to pin the murder of the two Kurds on them. And why was it Yanoutsos and not Ghikas making the statement, or, for that matter, the head of the Anti-terrorist Squad, who was the one most competent to do so?

As I was racking my brains to work out what was going on, the lawyer for one of the three accused appeared.

‘My client is innocent and is being prosecuted for nothing more than his ideas,’ he said angrily. ‘These are actions that do damage to the validity and functioning of democracy. What person in their right mind can believe that three youths were the instigators in the suicides of two leading figures in the financial and political world such as Jason Favieros and Loukas Stefanakos?’

‘And what about the two Kurds?’ one reporter asked.

‘My client had no involvement whatsoever in the murder of the two Kurds and we will prove it in court.’

‘So you believe that the charges are trumped up?’ another reporter asked.

‘What I believe is that some people are looking for scapegoats so that all the fuss surrounding the scandals, which is harming the government, will blow over.’

‘You see, now, that you didn’t believe me?’ Adriani said triumphantly.

I nodded my head as though acknowledging her, because I was in no mood at that moment for an argument. The lawyer’s words had opened my eyes and I realised the game that was being played. Petroulakis, the Prime Minister’s adviser, had seen that I had not been in contact with him and had assigned someone else to hush up the business. And so it had fallen to Yanoutsos, without the
Anti-terrorist
Squad having any part in it.

This was the
coup de grâce
as far as the loss of my position was concerned. From the moment that Yanoutsos willingly carried out orders and rounded up the three extremists, there was no way that they wouldn’t reward him. And his reward would be to permanently take over my job. My sick leave would be up in less than a month and so I had to start looking for some refuge straightaway.

The sound of the phone roused me from my thoughts. Adriani never answered it when I was in the house because she thought it ninety per cent certain that it would be someone from the
department
for me. I lifted the receiver and heard Katerina’s voice. ‘Dad, have you heard?’

‘Yes.’

‘Are they right in the head? Are they trying to say that three village idiots forced a business tycoon and a leading politician to commit suicide? What a load of nonsense!’

‘Don’t ask me, dear. I know as much as you do about it.’

‘Anyway, I’ll tell you one thing. With all that nonsense they’ve no chance in court of making the charges stick.’

‘Perhaps there’s more that they’re not saying.’

‘Possibly. But more likely, they’re looking for a way to close mouths just like that lawyer said.’

‘We’ll see. Let me put your mother on.’

I was in no mood to go on with the conversation. What Katerina told me I already knew, but that didn’t do anything to change my own fate. They would decorate me for my bravery and put me out to pasture.

As I was reflecting on all this, I had one of my sudden flashes and understood what Ghikas was up to. The anti-terrorist people may not have known anything, but Ghikas was certainly in on it. Not even a leaf fell to the ground in Security Headquarters without Ghikas knowing about it. With some bitterness I realised that the conclusion I had come to on the day I visited the public notary was correct. Ghikas had supported me as long as the investigation was unofficial and he was in no danger of being compromised himself. However, as soon as he had received orders from his superiors to close the case, he had left me playing blind man’s buff and supported Yanoutsos because it suited him.

I felt anger rising inside me and rushed to the phone. I called Ghikas at home. I let the phone ring at least a dozen times, but no one answered. Of course, I thought to myself, he suspected I might call and he’s not answering so as not to get into an unpleasant
conversation
with me and lose his peace of mind.

Adriani shouted from the kitchen that the meal was ready. I sat down to eat a little ratatouille but it just wouldn’t go down.

‘Anyway, what are you brooding for?’ said Adriani, seeing me eating without any appetite. ‘Let them gouge each other’s eyes out. You’re not going to save the honour of the Police Force on your own.’

She thought I was brooding because the Force would be compromised, as I had told her nothing of what was eating away at me. I didn’t care a jot about the Force; what bothered me was losing my position. Of all the transfers I had had, this was the one that suited me to a tee and I liked the job, even though I was always walking a tightrope. Now they would stick me in some operations or planning department and I’d be pushing papers all day long.

‘I know what,’ said Adriani rather coyly, and I knew immediately that she was about to come out with something. ‘What would you say to us going to stay with Eleni for a while on the island? She’s always inviting us. If you want my opinion, after the hospital and all we’ve been through, it will do us good. You still have another twenty-seven days’ sick leave.’

She had counted them down to the very last one, but her idea provided me with a way out. If I got out of Athens for a while, at least I’d get a little peace. I’d get my strength back and I’d come back able to fight for a new position that wouldn’t damage my pride. But despite the positive side to it, I tried not to show too much
enthusiasm
so she wouldn’t get her hopes up and start nagging at me all the time.

‘We’ll give it some thought. It’s not such a bad idea.’

‘Wonderful. I’ll call up tomorrow to find out the times of the boats. Eleni told me that there are some new ones that do the trip in six hours. They’re a bit pricey, but it’s worth it.’

When she really wants something, there’s no need for you to say ‘yes’. All she needs is a ‘we’ll see’.

‘All right, find out. But don’t take it as definite.’

I left half the food on my plate and went to take up position in front of the TV. I knew that apart from losing my appetite, I was also going to lose my sleep. I again watched the three youths dashing down the corridor outside my old office, again listened to Yanoutsos’s statement and again became riled. However, then they showed interviews with the parents and neighbours of the three youths, something that was of interest to me. The parents of all three stated categorically that their sons were innocent. They swore at the government and cursed the police for plunging them into grief and stigmatising their offspring. The truest thing was said by a young lad from the same neighbourhood. ‘Okay, I’m not saying he was a saint, but a murderer? You’ve got to be joking.’

Just after eleven, I chanced upon a discussion concerning the danger of the extreme right in Greece, once again chaired by
Sotiropoulos
. The participants were a minister, a prominent member of the opposition, a reporter and a lawyer. The game was being played in the usual way, with little variation: the minister claimed that the danger from the right was always lurking in Greece and the state had to be ever vigilant; the opposition politician rejected all this and accused the government of political exploitation, the minister responded by accusing the opposition of deliberately
underestimating
the danger in order to benefit from the votes of the extreme rightists. In between, like a wild card, there was, on the one hand, the lawyer, who was trying to explain whether and to what extent there were grounds for a case against the three youths, and, on the other, the reporter, who was trying to engage in a political analysis of the situation. Both were wasting their time as no one was paying any attention to them. Sotiropoulos was playing his usual game of hot and cold: first he would come out with some innuendo to get the participants to flare up and then he would try to maintain a balance.