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

operation is along the road running past Siphones. Your only choice out of Siphones is to head south toward roads connecting back to Chora or north toward Koronos. All he had to do was wait until he saw which way Popi was headed and call the drivers. My guess is they expected you to head toward Koronos and were waiting up that way, but if you’d gone south, they’d have tried to chase you down from behind.”

Yianni shut his eyes, drew in a deep breath, and thought back to when they left Siphones…and of that old pickup parked off to the side of the road.

He exhaled and opened his eyes. “I think it’s time to arrange for Naxos’s finest to pay an official visit on Mr. Honeyman.”

Mamas’s voice lightened up, “I was hoping you’d say that.” He paused. “I’m sure Popi is too.”

Chapter Thirteen

In the moonlight, to the tempo of what seemed a million cicadas, the SUV and a marked police car crept lights-out down a rutted donkey path toward a ramshackle stone farmhouse at the bottom of a hollow. Not a glint of light came from the farmhouse. Beyond the house, parallel rows of beehives ran off in the direction of a long-neglected shepherd’s hut.

The vehicles stopped thirty meters from the house, and two men got out of each vehicle. Two approached the front door, and two went to the rear. The men at the front stood to each side of the door as the taller of the two knocked twice on the door.

“Spyros, it’s Chief of Police Dimitri. Open up.”

No answer.

He banged on the door three times. “Police, open up.”

No answer.

He banged away, shouting all the while. “Spyros, it’s the police. Open up. We know you’re in there.”

The front door opened. “Easy guys, it’s me,” said Tassos. Behind him stood a uniformed Naxos cop holding a teenaged boy by the arm. “This one tried scooting out the back door.”

“Who are you?” asked Andreas.

The boy said nothing.

“I said, who are you?”

Dimitri interrupted, “It’s Spyros’s son.” He looked at the boy “Why did you run?”

No answer.

“Do you want to go back to bed or be arrested? A simple choice. Now tell me why you ran?”

The boy shuffled his feet. “I was afraid.”

“Of what?”

“Of you.”

“A guilty conscience over some crime you committed that you thought we knew about, perhaps?” said Tassos.

The boy looked down at the floor.

“Where’s your father?” said Dimitri.

“I don’t know.”

“And your mother?”

“She’s in Athens with my sister.”

“Doing what?”

“I don’t know.”

“What’s your father doing?”

“I don’t know.”

Tassos whispered to Andreas, “My guess would be off doing a little while-the-cat’s-away-the-mice-will-play action.”

“When will your father be back?” said Andreas.

“I don’t know.”

“You’ve got that ‘I don’t know’ bit down pretty well,” said Tassos. “Why don’t you tell us what you do know about where your father might be.”

“I don’t know.”

“When’s the last time you saw him?”

The boy hesitated.

“Remember the choice I offered you,” said Dimitri. “Back to bed or back with us.”

“Two days ago.”

“Do you mean the day before yesterday?” said Andreas.

He nodded. “In the morning.”

“When did your mother and sister leave for Athens?”

“Three days ago.”

“Are you alone?”

He nodded.

Dimitri said to his cop, “Check out the house to see if anyone else is in here.”

Tassos walked to the back door and stared out at the beehives. “Didn’t Popi’s husband tell Yianni that Honeyman’s game was to buy honey at the supermarket and resell it to tourists as his own?”

“Yeah,” said Andreas.

“Then why all the hives?”

Tassos looked at the boy. “Does your father raise bees?”

The boy gestured no. “My sister is allergic to bee stings. She almost died from a bee sting, so mother made him give up the bees.”

“Is that when he started passing off store-bought honey as his own?”

The boy nodded.

“I have to admit, his improvised method for supporting his family earns my grudging respect,” said Tassos.

“Don’t get too carried away with the admiration,” said Dimitri. “Honeyman has been passing off store-bought honey as his own since before he was his son’s age. He found that a lot easier way to make money than raising bees.” He looked at the boy. “That’s the same sympathy pitch his father gives to any tourists who happen to discover they’ve been hustled and come back looking to complain.”

Tassos looked at the boy. “Ah, so the little rotten apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” He motioned for Andreas to follow him as he walked to the back door, headed toward the hives. “Come. Let’s see what we have here.”

“Bees,” said Andreas. “And they sting when their rest is disturbed.”

“What troubles me,” said Tassos, as he approached the first row of beehives, “is that even with the bee shortage in Greece, these hives are worth money, and I can’t imagine why he wouldn’t sell them, rather than leaving them to rot.”

Tassos held his flashlight up to the first hive in the row. He stepped forward and tapped on the hive. Nothing happened. Next, he shook the hive. Nothing happened.

“So far so good,” he said.

“They’re just waiting to ambush you for taking off the top,” said Andreas.

“We shall see. Here, hold the light so I can lift the lid.”

Andreas took the light and Tassos lifted off the top.

“No bees.”

Andreas stepped forward and shone the light down into the hive. “What’s down there? I can’t see in.”

“I have a buddy who raises bees on Syros. I’ll have to remove the feeder section to see into the body of the hive.” Tassos pulled and tugged at the top section. “My buddy uses a pry bar to do this.” He kept tugging until the feeder came off.

They looked inside.

“What the hell is this?” said Andreas, holding the light.

“It should be filled with frames that hold the honeycombs. Instead we’ve got a different kind of honey.” Tassos reached in and pulled out a piece of ceramic.

“A potsherd.” He reached in again and pulled out another piece. He held them both up to the light. “They look to be from the same urn.” He took the light from Andreas and stared