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

II and any mention of the publisher’s family in connection with those valuables or their destruction.

Maggie suggested they also ask for similar reports involving the opposing sides in the Greek Civil War that had followed.

Andreas asked Lila to dig up whatever other information she or her mother could find on Athena, matriarch of the publisher’s family.

He called Dimitri for the twenty-five-year-old police records of the car accident that took the life of the project manager.

Andreas sensed they’d discovered the skeletal frame of a time line tying everything together. Athena, assisted by her project manager, had shepherded the family’s business dealings through World War II (1940–45), Greece’s Civil War (1946–49), and the Junta Years (1967–74). At some later time, she turned over control to her publisher grandson, and on the project manager’s death in the mid-1990s, Honeyman replaced him. All Andreas had to do now was flesh out the frame. Whether the result would be an angel, a devil, or something in between remained to be seen.

Andreas looked at Yianni and Tassos. “Anything else you can think of?”

“Yeah,” said Tassos. “Start carrying a bigger gun. Like a howitzer. You do realize that by putting all this out there, word will undoubtedly get back to the publisher, and in his state of advanced paranoia, I don’t see him missing where you’re headed with this.”

Andreas nodded.

“Seriously. The guy could be unstable enough to come after you.”

“He could be.”

“Or your family,” said Yianni.

Andreas nodded again. “I’m sure he can justify that to himself, what with me going after his family.” Andreas leaned back and stretched. “Years ago, I decided that anyone who threatens my family gets no quarter. Should he decide to take that route, he damn well better not miss.”

“You’re starting to sound like those vendetta guys up in Apeiranthos,” Tassos said with a smile.

“They’re not always wrong.”

“Chief, your phone’s vibrating.”

“My mind’s elsewhere. I still haven’t switched it to ring.” He picked it up off the table. “Hello.”

“Hi, it’s Dimitri. I found that file and took a look through it.”

“Anything interesting?”

“Not in the file.”

“What’s that mean?” said Andreas, picking up a pencil.

“It’s a routine report, describing the cause as excessive speed into a sharp turn on a treacherous mountain road and a subsequent loss of control sending car and driver on a terminal roll down the mountain.”

“What about outside the file?”

“The person making the report was a detective at the time, and that wasn’t the sort of thing detectives generally did. More significantly, he left the force under a cloud.”

“What kind of cloud?”

“He was notoriously corrupt.”

Andreas began tapping his pencil on the tabletop. “When did he leave the force?”

“Fifteen years ago.”

“Where’s he now?”

“He lives over by where you’re staying. In a house almost as nice as yours.”

“I guess police pensions are better on Naxos.”

“For him, at least.”

“Do you have an address? I’d like to pay him a visit.” Andreas gestured to Yianni for a piece of paper.

“Would you like me to come along?”

“If you think it would help.”

“He hates me.”

“Perfect. That way you get to play bad cop. Can you pick me up?”

“I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Bye.”

Andreas hung up. “What do you think?”

“At the pace you’re going,” said Tassos, “I’m changing my firepower recommendation to a howitzer and a Sherman tank.”

* * *

The ex-cop lived in a neatly maintained beach house on a wide and deep, bamboo-ringed parcel of land about a kilometer due north of where Andreas was staying. A white late-model BMW SUV sat on the gravel driveway connecting the house to a public dirt road running alongside the property.

Dimitri parked beside the BMW. “I think we should sit in the car for a few minutes, so Bear has time to notice we’re here.”

“Bear?”

“That’s his nickname.”

“And just what do you think he’ll do if we show up at his front door unannounced?”

“With this guy, there’s no telling.”

“Well, in that case…” Andreas leaned over and pounded on the horn.

Ten seconds later, a gray-haired bear of a man, wearing nothing but khaki shorts draped beneath a huge belly, came charging out the front door headed directly for the marked police car.

“I see why they call him Bear.” Andreas got out of the car and walked toward the man.

Bear stopped a pace in front of Andreas, stuck his finger in Andreas’s face, and shouted, “Who the fuck do you think you are, asshole?”

Andreas fixed his eyes on Bear’s and grinned. “Dimitri, why don’t you make the introductions?”

Dimitri came around to the front of the car. “Permit me to introduce you to Chief Inspector Andreas Kaldis, head of GADA’s Special Crimes Unit.”

“I don’t care if you’re the damn archbishop; neither of you are welcome on my property. So get the hell out of here.”

“Would you care to get dressed?” asked Andreas calmly.

Bear hesitated. “I said get off my property.”

“Then I assume you’re willing to come with us dressed as you are.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Andreas shook his head. “You’re an ex-cop. Do I have to tell you the potential consequences of resisting arrest?”

“Arrest?”

“Why do you think we’re here? I’m sure you’re a fun guy to hang out with, but we’re not here on a social call. So play nice, turn around, and put your hands behind your back.” Andreas stepped back a pace, uncrossed his arms, and reached behind his back for handcuffs.

Veins popped on the man’s forehead and he lunged for Andreas. Andreas sidestepped the charge, dropped his left shoulder, and thrust the heel of his left hand hard up against the side of the man’s head. Bear stumbled for an instant, then spun around, looking for Andreas. But Andreas found him first, or rather the hard heel of Andreas’s shoe found the exposed top of the man’s bare foot.

A roar of pain, followed by a fall to the ground, had the man cursing but no longer fighting. “You miserable bastard, you broke my foot.”

“We’ll take you to the hospital for an X-ray on the way to booking you.”

“For what?”

“For starters, how about assaulting a police officer?”

“That’s a Mickey Mouse charge.”

Andreas crouched down