Che Committed Suicide (34 page)

She covered her face with her hands and started sobbing.
Stathatos
rushed over to her and took hold of her by the shoulders. ‘It’s all right, dear,’ she said reassuringly. ‘It’s all right. I know what you’re going through, but be brave. It’s a bad time, it’ll pass, you’ll see.’ She lifted her head and looked at Koula. ‘Tell the secretary outside to give you a glass of water,’ she said to her commandingly as though talking to an office girl.

Koula put down her notepad and went out of the office. Stathatos then turned her gaze to me.

‘You see where all this pointless questioning leads, Inspector? You’re upsetting us unnecessarily and only making things harder, while we’re trying to put it all behind us and get on with our lives.’

I tried to keep my temper because it was not in my best interests to get into an argument. ‘I’m sorry for causing you any upset, Mrs Stathatos. However, we find it difficult to believe that three people suddenly went mad and committed suicide. And even if we were to accept that, there’s the question of the biographies that followed, all written by the same author and all written before the suicides.’

‘What are you saying exactly? I’m trying to understand.’

‘That there’s something behind the suicides, something that as yet we are unaware of. If our hypothesis is correct, then there may very well be more suicides. I’m sure you understand what that means, particularly when it concerns well-known figures.’

The glass of water brought by Koula saved Stathatos from having to reply because she took it from Koula and turned all her attention to Mrs Favieros. I waited for Favieros to empty the glass and for
Stathatos
to give her a pat of encouragement and sit down before I went on.

‘I won’t keep you much longer. I’ll try to be brief. Had you noticed any change in your husband’s behaviour in the period just prior to his suicide?’

A faint smile appeared on Stathatos’s lips. ‘Loukas and I both had very busy schedules and we rarely saw each other, Inspector. He spent all day rushing between his office and Parliament, while I was tied up with my businesses. In the evening, each of us had our own obligations: his were political, mine business. The only time that we saw each other was in the morning over coffee and even then we barely had time to discuss the essentials. Stella can tell you better than I can if there was any change in his behaviour.’

‘Who’s Stella?’

‘His secretary.’

If anyone had asked Adriani about me, she would have been able to tell them even when the rhythm of my blinking changed. I turned back to Mrs Favieros. I didn’t ask her anything so as not to oblige her to answer if she didn’t feel well. But she understood my questioning look.

‘Yes, I did notice a change in Jason,’ she said. ‘But there was a reason for it.’

‘Can you tell me what it was?’

She reflected as to whether she should tell me or not. Eventually, she took the decision and said very tensely: ‘He was very concerned about a serious problem that our son has.’

The way that she said it left me in no doubt as to the nature of the problem their son had, but it was still unclear to me whether it was his son or something else that so overcame Favieros as to lead him to suicide. Most probably it was one thing on top of the other.

‘Do you know whether your husband was acquainted with
Apostolos
Vakirtzis, Mrs Stathatos?’

She laughed. ‘What a naive question, Inspector. Is there any politician or would-be politician, or even town counsellor for that matter, who doesn’t know Apostolos Vakirtzis?’

‘Do you know whether he was on friendly terms with him?’

‘Another naive question. You couldn’t be on anything but friendly terms with Apostolos Vakirtzis. You had to appear on his show, give him interviews whenever he wanted, always supply him with the information he asked for. Otherwise, he would declare war on you and, sooner or later, he would succeed in eliminating you.’

‘And what about your husband, Mrs Favieros?’

She shrugged to stress that she had no idea. ‘Jason knew so many people, from politicians to businessmen, that it was impossible among all that crowd to distinguish Vakirtzis or anyone else.’

There was no point in my going on. Even if he had known Vakirtzis, Favieros certainly wouldn’t have told his wife. My next question was a difficult one because I didn’t know whether I should ask it and also because I didn’t know what answer I might get.

‘Could your husbands’ suicides be connected at all with your own business activities?’

‘I don’t see what possible connection there could be …’ Favieros began, but Stathatos cut her short.

‘None whatsoever,’ she said abruptly. ‘The partnership was between Sotiria and myself. Jason and Loukas had no involvement at all and, what’s more, I have no intention of discussing my business activities with you, Inspector.’

‘And I have no intention of asking you about your business
activities
, Mrs Stathatos. They’re of no concern to me. Though what you just said, that Loukas Stathatos and Jason Favieros had no
involvement
in your businesses, is not exactly true. If I recall correctly, you had, together with Jason Favieros, an offshore company that dealt in hotel enterprises in the Balkans.’

She wasn’t expecting me to know that detail and so I caught her off guard, but she quickly recovered.

‘Ah yes, Balkan Inns,’ she said complacently, as though she had forgotten about it. ‘But I was never personally involved in that. It was run by Jason and Coralia Yannelis.’

I began to think of Coralia Yannelis as a sort of Minister for Balkan Affairs in the group of companies. I would have to try my luck with her once more. I found her far more likeable than
Stathatos
, even though she hadn’t really told me anything despite all her smiles and friendliness.

Koula opened her mouth for the first time as we got up to leave. ‘May we have your permission to search the computers used by Mr Favieros and Mr Stefanakos in their offices and in their homes?’

Mrs Favieros turned and looked at her in astonishment. Mrs
Stathatos
once again adopted her haughty expression as though the very sound of Koula’s voice was an annoyance to her.

‘And just what do you expend to find on the computers, young miss? If Jason and Loukas had left suicide notes, we would know about it.’

‘I’m not looking for suicide notes, Mrs Stathatos,’ Koula answered in a firm voice. ‘Mr Favieros’s private secretary informed us that Mr Favieros had been spending hours shut up in his office in front of the computer prior to his suicide. So much so that it had caused her to wonder. Mr Vakirtzis’s partner had also said the same thing about him to the Inspector – namely that he, too, had been
spending
a great deal of time in front of his computer. So we would like to search them in case they contain some evidence.’

Mrs Stathatos shrugged.

‘Loukas didn’t have a computer at home, only in the office. I’ll tell Stella, his secretary, who is still working there, to allow you access.’

The way she said it revealed her certainty that we wouldn’t find anything. Koula thanked her and I nodded to her that we should be going. The secretary sitting outside didn’t even raise her eyes to look at us as we left. Perhaps she didn’t hear our footsteps on the thick carpet.

‘I really don’t understand, Inspector.’

Coralia Yannelis looked at us with an expression that was both ironic and inquisitive at the same time. We had gone straight there from the offices of Starad, because it was only five minutes’ drive from Vikela Street to Aigialeias Street.

‘If I’m not mistaken, this is the fourth time you’ve come here and I can’t understand your interest in these suicides. I’m starting to suspect that there’s something else behind all this that you’re not telling us.’

‘There’s nothing else behind it, Mrs Yannelis.’

‘So are you telling me that your interest is purely on a human level? That you’re desperate to learn why Favieros and Stefanakos committed suicide in such a tragic way?’

‘And Vakirtzis. The day before last, Vakirtzis also committed suicide in an even more tragic way.’

‘All right, Vakirtzis too.’

‘Did you know him?’

‘Of course, along with ten million other Greeks. You couldn’t open a newspaper without coming across Vakirtzis, or turn on the radio without hearing his voice.’

‘But you didn’t have any connection or dealings with him?’

She laughed. ‘You still think that the reasons behind the suicides of Jason and Stefanakos are to be found hidden somewhere in
Favieros
’s group of companies or in their joint companies or in their wives’ companies. But where does Vakirtzis, a journalist, fit into all that?’

She waited for an answer from me, but she didn’t receive one because I didn’t have one. I didn’t have any answers, and the ones I did have were not all that convincing. Those who shared my suspicions did so simply because they had the same gut feeling that I had, like Ghikas for example, or because they were scared of some scandal, like the Minister.

Yannelis saw from my silence that I was at a loss and continued: ‘I can assure you that Jason and Stefanakos, at least, did not commit suicide because of the prospect of bankruptcy. If you don’t believe me, all you have to do is ask to see their companies’ balance sheets and give them to a specialist to examine. He’ll tell you that the
companies
are doing just fine.’ She paused for a moment and her tone suddenly became cold. ‘Three people have died by their own hand, Inspector, and before thousands of eyes. That’s tragic for their
families
and also for those who knew and loved them. But they weren’t murdered, so why do you care?’

Her irony had turned into controlled indignation. They were dead anyway, I thought to myself. If they had been murdered instead of committing suicide, I would have come up with a lead far more easily. How was I to explain to Yannelis, without any evidence, that to my mind the three suicides were indirectly murders? And how was I to convince her that if we didn’t come up with the reasons behind them soon, it was very probable that the suicides would
continue
and we’d be faced with a suicide epidemic that we wouldn’t know how to stop? If I had been dealing with a murder, I would have been able to involve another three or four divisions. I would collect evidence, have bank accounts opened and, sooner or later, I’d get to the bottom of it. But now I had neither evidence nor arguments and I was going round in circles like a mouse on a wheel.

‘Do you think it a mere coincidence that three leading figures from the world of business, politics and journalism should commit suicide in succession?’

She shrugged. ‘Some coincidences are inexplicable.’

‘And the biographies? The two were published within ten days of each suicide and the third was delivered to my door at the very moment that Vakirtzis was committing suicide.’

This time, she didn’t answer straightaway. ‘Agreed. The
biographies
lend some weight to your argument. But who’s to say they weren’t already written and the author is simply cashing in on the events? All three of them were well-known personalities and lived action-packed lives. That’s a temptation for any biographer. After all, there’s the example of that nationalist organisation that wanted to take advantage of the suicides to draw attention to itself. Perhaps the biographer was doing the same thing.’

‘He had three biographies of three hundred pages each ready and waiting, Mrs Yannelis. Two of them were already in the hands of the publishers. He can’t have written three biographies expecting his three protagonists to eventually commit suicide. Not to mention that this Logaras didn’t give any address to his publishers, or even a bank account so they could pay him his royalties.’

‘He’s not going to lose them. He can turn up at any time and ask for them.’

‘Perhaps, but his actions suggest that he won’t.’

She looked at me gravely this time and her question sounded sincere: ‘What are you looking for, Inspector?’

‘I told you. I want to find out why Favieros, Stefanakos and Vakirtzis committed suicide.’

‘And you think you’ll find out by investigating our companies?’ she said, again in an ironic tone of voice.

I was about to reply, but Koula beat me to it: ‘Excuse me, Mrs
Yannelis
, but are you sure there won’t be any more suicides?’ she asked politely. ‘We’ve already had three that follow exactly the same pattern.’

Yannelis turned and stared at her with a surprised look on her face, as though she had just noticed her for the first time. ‘How should I know, my dear girl?’ she said in the same disparaging tone used by taxi drivers when they talk to young women. ‘Let’s face it, not even you know.’

‘Precisely. And because neither you nor we know, you can try answering our questions so that we might get somewhere before we have more suicides on our conscience.’

Yannelis stared at her even more surprised. ‘All right, I’ll tell you whatever I can,’ she said in a conciliatory tone. ‘And if you ever get fed up with the Police Force, come to me and I’ll hire you.’

Koula blushed, which was an encouraging sign that she hadn’t lost her modesty. I took advantage of the window she had opened for me and I began my questioning.

‘Do you know whether Jason Favieros had any connections with Apostolos Vakirtzis?’

‘If you mean professional ones, no. Vakirtzis is neither a partner nor an associate in any of the companies in the group. I can tell you that with certainty.’

‘Do you know whether they had any personal connections?’

She thought for a moment. ‘I think they knew each other from the time of the Junta. From what I remember, Vakirtzis was also involved in the resistance. Jason mentioned his name now and again, but I can’t tell you whether they were still in contact.’

‘Would Mr Zamanis know?’

She looked at me and smiled. ‘My advice to you would be not to ask him. You’re not one of Mr Zamanis’s favourite people at the moment.’