A Deadly Twist by Jeffrey Siger (free novel reading sites .txt) 📕

of the mountains’ natural beauty or the timeless charm of old stone villages nestled against their slopes.

“This is truly beautiful,” said Yianni, not taking his eyes off the view.

“I’m glad you like it,” smiled Popi.

“It’s hard not to. Do you live out this way?”

“I live south of here, by the Temple of Demeter.”

“What’s it like down there?”

“The temple sits on a hill with a view that every time I go by gives me more respect for the ancients’ uncanny ability at picking the perfect sites for their holiest of places. Many consider it the most significant archaeological site on Naxos.”

“Sounds like somewhere to take my girlfriend if she manages to get here this weekend.”

“What’s the lucky lady’s name? My husband’s is Mamas.”

“Toni. She lives on Mykonos. Plays piano in a bar. Not exactly Mamas’s biblical career, but it’s a living.”

“Speaking of intriguing, do you mind if I ask why we’re going to Siphones?”

“I assume Dimitri told you about the missing reporter. She met some farmers in Siphones who were pretty outspoken about big money trying to ruin the island.”

“They’re not alone in that feeling. Especially among Naxians living outside of Chora.”

“But aren’t they used to that? After all, between the emery mines and marble quarries, this island’s been getting sliced up for eons. And for much of the time, by foreigners.”

“True, but what locals fear this time is a new type of foreign conquest. One fueled by big-money investors making changes in a few brief few years that outstrip the sum of all that the island has experienced in the past six thousand years.”

“Sounds like the sort of fevered rhetoric that gets passions running high.”

“You better believe it.”

“Enough to kill someone?”

“I’m a cop; how could I ever rule that out?”

“What’s your instinct, based upon living here?”

“There’s a lot of tough, hard-thinking people on this island, and if they thought their way of life was under siege, I’ve no doubt they’d do what they felt they had to do to protect it.”

“So much for the pastoral life.”

She shook her head. “No, it’s consistent. It is, after all, the responsibility of the herder to protect his flock from wolves.”

Yianni stared at the side of Popi’s face. “Are you suggesting it’s reached the point where herders are going after the wolves?”

“No, I’m just answering your request for my instinctive opinion on what I believe could happen if those concerns aren’t addressed.”

Yianni looked straight ahead. What the hell have I walked into?

* * *

Just before the village of Moni, Popi turned left at a sign marked KERAMOTI-APOLLON. “We’re ten minutes away from Siphones.”

“I appreciated this brief chance at being a tourist. Thanks for driving.”

“No problem. As often as I’ve been up here, I’m still blown away every time I see the mountains. I miss the ones back home in the Peloponnese.”

She pulled off onto the side of the road just past a sign reading SIPHONES.

“Where’s the village?”

“On the other side of the road. It steps down the hillside in terraces still farmed to grow crops like potatoes, cabbages, onions, tomatoes, and eggplants.”

“How many old houses are here?”

“Hard to say, with so many in ruin, but I’d guess around thirty-five.”

“That many?”

“This used to be a vibrant community, with lots of kids, lots of grapes, and lots of wine.”

They walked across the road and stood at the edge of the hillside looking at the mountains to the south and west.

“They must get a hell of a sunset here.”

“This view always makes me wonder why everyone left and, more significantly, why no one has returned.”

Yianni nodded in the direction of a marble cross. “I assume that’s where I’ll find the plaque with the mysterious message.”

“Yes.”

He walked up the road to the cross and stared down at the remains of a broken plaque. Yianni knelt down to read the inscription. “It says precisely what you described.” He took out his notebook and began to write.

“It’s getting to you, isn’t it?”

“That’s the downside of being a detective. We can’t resist a good mystery. But this time it’s only curiosity, not professional interest.” He stood up.

Popi pointed at a group of men gathered on one of the cultivated terraces. “Are those the ones you’re here to see?”

“I won’t know until I meet them. How do we get down there?”

“We walk under a bridge from the other side of the road. It’s a bit overgrown, but that’s the only way I know to get there.” She started out across the road.

Yianni followed. “What’s the snake situation on Naxos?”

“Ah, you’re a city boy.”

“As a matter of fact, my family is from your part of Greece, the Peloponnese.”

“Then don’t embarrass our roots by being afraid of snakes.”

“I’m not afraid, just asking.”

“Make a racket and watch where you step. They don’t like you any more than you like them.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t like them.”

Popi managed to maneuver through a patch of tall thistle, and down nine stone steps to the edge of an overgrown four-meter stretch that ended at the mouth of a dark culvert running under the bridge. An algae sludge grew where a trickle of water seeped into the culvert from the hillside behind her.

Yianni stopped at the top and stared at the culvert. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Don’t worry; it’s an old sluiceway for water running off the mountain. It’s the water that still makes this place so attractive to farmers.”

She picked up some stones and tossed a few into the weeds in front of her and the rest into the culvert. “That’s to scare away whatever might be in there. But don’t worry; I’ll lead.”

Yianni followed the path she’d made through the thistle and down the steps to where she’d stopped to throw her stones. “I take back what I said before about my having a lot in common with your husband.”

“Why’s that?” she asked from inside the culvert.

“Because the poor soul obviously has a lot more to contend with than I do.”

As Popi continued though the culvert, Yianni heard, “Snakes, snakes, come meet the nice detective.”

Chapter Seven

“Minister,