Petros Markaris - Che Committed Suicide

She had floored me, though personally I had never seen her playing patience. Perhaps because it didn’t matter to her if I appeared unannounced; the most likely explanation, however, was that quite simply I never looked to see what was on her computer screen.

We headed back the way we came, without an escort this time. The decor in the neoclassical building was at the other extreme. Rather like entering a company at the start of the previous century that traded in comestibles and colonial wares. The centre was dominated by a large drawing room, of the kind where bals masqués were held in the old mansions, with white doors all around. The doors had no plaques like the one Ghikas had fixed to the door of his office. Evidently so as not to spoil the aesthetics of the place, but that meant that we had to try all of them until we found Favieros’s office.

We came across a third fifty-year-old woman. This one was tall, blonde, impeccably dressed, and, naturally, without any make-up.

‘Come in, Inspector,’ she said as soon as we opened the door. She didn’t seem to notice Koula either, and this was starting to annoy me because I had the impression that they all saw us rather like a tow truck with its load.

Lefaki opened a door to her right and ushered us into Favieros’s office. Koula stopped in the doorway, turned round and looked at me speechless. My surprise was no less, because suddenly we found ourselves in a lawyer’s office from the fifties, with its black leather couch, black leather armchairs, heavy curtains and an enormous walnut desk. The only modern items were a computer screen and keyboard on the desk. Just look at that, I thought to myself, totally different decor from that in his house. And a totally different decor from that in the offices of his associates. In the end, you were totally confused, because you simply couldn’t tell who the real Favieros was.

Lefaki noticed our bewilderment and smiled slightly. ‘You’ve guessed right,’ she said. ‘He had his father’s law office moved here just as it was.’

Koula headed straight for the computer. Before switching it on, she glanced at Lefaki, as though asking her permission.

‘There’s no problem,’ she said, ‘Mr Zamanis notified me.’

I left Koula tinkering with the machine and went outside with Lefaki. She was the one who saw Favieros more than anyone and perhaps she could verify what I had been told by the Thai butler and Zamanis.

‘Had you noticed any change of late in Jason Favieros?’ I asked her.

Her answer came spontaneously, as with those people who have no doubt about what they say: ‘Yes, he had changed of late.’

‘How? Can you explain?’

She reflected a moment before giving her answer.

‘He had inexplicable ups and downs. From being hyperactive, he would suddenly sink into complete inactivity. At one moment, he would suddenly explode and shout his head off without cause, the next he would go into his shell and tell me no one was to disturb him.’

‘Wasn’t he always like that?’

‘Jason? Where did you get that idea? He was always amiable, always with a smile and a friendly word. Everyone in here called him by his first name. If you called him “Mr Favieros”, he would get upset.’

She suddenly broke into tears, silent tears that were revealed more from the jerking of her shoulders than from the sound of her crying. ‘I’m sorry, but whenever I talk about him, I see that frightful scene on the TV before my eyes.’ She wiped her tears with the back of her hand. ‘I’m sure I’ll still see it when I’m in my grave with my eyes closed.’

‘What did he do when he shut himself up in his office?’ I asked in order to stop her sinking any further.

‘He’d sit in front of his computer. One day, to tease him. I said: “What are you doing all day in front of your computer? Writing a novel?” “I’ve already written it and I’m checking it for corrections”, he said in all seriousness.’

Koula came out of the office.

‘I’m done, Inspector.’

We said goodbye to Lefaki and left the room. I avoided the lift and took the stairs in order to marvel a little longer at the neoclassical building.

‘I need a programme for detecting deleted files,’ Koula said on the way down.

‘Why?’

‘Because I didn’t find anything. And because I don’t believe that Favieros was playing patience or rummy on his computer, that means that someone has deleted whatever it was he was working on.’

I found her explanation logical. ‘And where will you get hold of such a programme?’

‘My cousin is a wizard at things like that.’

We were already outside on the street when she stopped suddenly and looked at me. ‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Go ahead.’

‘Why did Favieros only have fifty-year-olds in his company. He could have taken on one or two young girls, who are dying to find work.’

‘Because he’d obviously hired all his old acquaintances from his years in the resistance.’ She stared at me speechless. ‘What are you looking at me for? The kids of police officers get preference in recruitment to the police academy. The kids of army officers get preference in recruitment to the cadet academy. And in Favieros’s company, preference was given to his comrades from the resistance. Never mind what the Philip of Macedon lot say, in Greece everyone takes care of his own.’

I didn’t seem to have convinced her, but she didn’t dare voice any objections.

Late that afternoon, I phoned Ghikas at home to find out if there had been any developments in the murder of the two Kurds. Not that I had changed my mind and believed that the murder was connected with Favieros’s suicide, but because something might have turned up in the investigation that would be useful to me.

‘Don’t expect anything,’ Ghikas told me.

‘Why?’

‘Because Yanoutsos is still looking for Mafiosos.’

‘It’s not the work of Mafiosos,’ I said categorically. ‘It’s what was announced: execution by nationalists belonging to that Philip of Macedon organisation.’

‘Try telling him.’

I was almost for telling him that it was his job to make him change his line of investigation, but I knew he was keeping quiet on purpose. He was letting him dig a hole for himself to fall into.

‘But I might have something new in a few days.’

‘How? Are you going to persuade Yanoutsos to look elsewhere?’

‘No, but I think I’ve found a way to dump the case on the Anti-terrorist Squad. Did you come up with anything new?’

I told him without going into detail about my visits to Favieros’s home, to his construction site and his offices.

‘So nothing suspicious?’ he asked me as though not believing it.

‘I told you. He was somewhat distant, lost his temper easily and shut himself in his office.’

‘Why? Why would a businessman like Favieros put himself into self-confinement when normally his day should be full of meetings and conferences? Ask me what I have to go through!’ he said, emphasising the last phrase and reminding me of the old Ghikas, who had only one point of reference: himself. But then, straightaway, he posed the very same question that had been bothering me: ‘Was there something unusual that had happened to Favieros? Why did he suddenly leave everything and withdraw into himself when, so it seems, he had no business or personal worries?’

I had no answer and so I confined myself to simply supplying him with a bit of information. ‘Koula had a quick look at the computer in his office, but she told me it needed more thorough investigation.’

‘You can trust her when it comes to those things. She’s a real wizard!’ He paused for a moment and then added: ‘And if someone from Favieros’s close circle wants to contact the police, give them my name and no one else’s.’