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

“Tassos.”

“Sorry, I have such trouble with names these days.”

“I do too. But that’s sort of what I’m hoping you can help me with.”

“Names?”

“Yes.”

“From back then?”

“Yes.”

“That’s a long time ago.”

“I know, but I think these names were important to you then.”

He leaned against his hoe. “What are the names?”

“That’s what I need from you. All I have are initials.”

“Oh, my, I don’t know how I’ll possibly remember names from initials.”

“Well, let’s try. They’re JSS, GTS, AKS, KSM, RIM, and BZ.”

The grandfather’s eyes appeared to glaze over. He closed and opened them three times. “Please, say them to me again.”

He squinted and began nodding in concentration as Tassos repeated the initials.

He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I recognize nothing.”

“Excuse me,” interrupted Yianni. “Perhaps I can help, sir.” He pulled his notebook out from his pocket and showed a page to the grandfather. “Can you tell me who wrote this?”

The grandfather leaned in close to the paper and carefully mouthed the words. His face lit up. “Yes, it was Giannis Nikiforou Konstantakis, a grocer up in Koronos.”

He paused to swallow. “His mother, Sofia, was from here, and she twice saved him from the devil. He erected the plaque to honor her deep faith in God…”

He paused, shut his eyes, and gently rocked from side to side. “And her answered prayers to Saint Cyprian that he use his magic powers to save her son from the devil and bring joy back to his life.”

“I thought the plaque had to do with the reason everyone left the village,” said Junior.

“Yeah, like ghosts or disease,” said Yianni.

“Ridiculous,” said the grandfather. “People abandoned our village for the same reason as people abandoned other villages.”

He spoke with a touch of newfound, flinty-eyed determination. “The same work that earned them five drachmas in our village would earn them fifty drachmas in Chora or Athens. And after the war, people wanted education for their children, but we had no school here. That meant a life of hard labor for the sons, and if our daughters were lucky, landing a job as a housekeeper in Athens. They all wanted better lives and more modern things. Education was the only way, so they moved. Even my grandson is looking for better opportunities.”

Junior smiled. “He’s off this morning on a college interview.”

Yianni smiled and slapped him on the back. “Congratulations, you must be very proud.”

Junior kept smiling. “We are, thank you.”

“Who broke the plaque?” said Andreas.

“I can answer that,” said Junior. “Some idiot in a rental car backed into it.”

“So,” said Yianni, “now that we’ve resolved that mystery, perhaps you can help us with this one.” Yianni showed him a page from his notebook listing the six sets of initials.

The grandfather stared at the page for a moment, then waggled a finger in the air. “I’ve seen these initials before, but I can’t quite place where.”

Yianni gave him a bit more time to study the page. “Perhaps they relate to your work with antiquities?”

The grandfather moved his stare to the ground. “Yes, that could be it.” He shut his eyes and again began to gently rock from side to side. “When I worked at that hotel site, I remember a very large woman in her sixties. I met with her many times. She always wanted to know what new things we’d found. We’d describe them, and then they’d disappear.”

“Did she take them?”

“I don’t know, but no one ever questioned where they’d gone.”

“I can’t recall ever seeing someone like that on the site,” said Tassos.

“She only met with us who dug and her project manager who’d hired us. And we always met with her away from where we worked.”

“What was her name?” said Tassos.

“I never heard it.”

“What about the initials?” said Andreas.

“She had six children but never spoke of them by name, only initials.”

“What would she say about them?” asked Yianni.

The grandfather opened his eyes. “Something like, ‘These are right for BZ’ or ‘This should go to AS.’”

Tassos stared at Andreas. “Sounds like we’ve come across a dynasty of antiquities plunderers.”

Yianni leaned into the old man. “Sir, can you think of anything at all that might help us identify the woman?”

“No, but her project manager would know all about her.” The grandfather paused.

The cops perked up.

“But he’s dead. Died in a car accident here on Naxos twenty-five years ago.”

Tassos looked at Andreas. “At about the same time as Honeyman went into the antiquities storage business.”

* * *

“Where to now, Chief?” said Yianni as Andreas made a U-turn, headed south, toward the village of Moni.

“I want to stop at the police station in Filoti. There must be someone around who can identify that woman. From the way the grandfather spoke of her, she spent a lot of time on the island and likely came from money. A big woman with six children? She shouldn’t be that difficult to identify.”

“Then what?” said Tassos.

“Not sure yet, but at least we’ll know we’re barking up the right family tree.”

Yianni grimaced. “That was really bad.”

Andreas smiled. “I happened to like it. And speaking of liking, I really liked the way you handled the grandfather. Where did you learn to do that?”

“Too much personal family experience.” Yianni paused. “The key to dealing with folks with teetering memories is to keep yourself calm, not to push them, and to do what you can to make them feel comfortable. Start with what they know or once knew well, and only when you sense they’ve regained some confidence in their memories do you risk probing gently.”

“I’ll try to remember that,” said Andreas.

“On the subject of remaining calm,” Tassos said to Yianni, “I’m all for the good cop, bad cop routine, but when you, with your two broken ribs and bandages, launched in on Junior over that long, hard shovel in his hands, I wondered if you’d taken into account the size of the man you were trying to stand down.”

“Yes, I had.”

“And what was your plan if he’d swung?”

“To keep ducking until one of you shot him.”

“Great plan.”

Ring, ring.

“Now