Petros Markaris - Che Committed Suicide

I walked into the house and found Fanis talking to Adriani. Next to them was someone unknown to me, who looked like a technician and who was looking around at the walls.

‘But, Fanis, dear, why do we need an air conditioner? I told you, I don’t like them because they dry the atmosphere in the room. We’re fine with the fan.’

‘Do I have to say it again? You have a husband with a heart problem. For heart sufferers, the heat increases the risk of death. Do you know how many cases we get in Emergency when there’s a heatwave?’

‘Maybe, but we’re leaving for a few days. We’re going to stay with my sister on the island.’

‘And what are you going to do when you get back and Athens is boiling hot?’

The technician interrupted the conversation, which was taking place in my absence, as did every conversation that had to do with me.

‘Can I just ask? Do you want it to cool the whole place?’

‘No, just the sitting room,’ Fanis replied.

‘Then 12,000 BTU will be ample.’

Fanis took the decision on his own. ‘Okay. It’s settled.’

The technician turned to leave, saw me in the doorway and halted. It was only then that Fanis and Adriani noticed me.

‘Do you have any objections to us putting in an air conditioner?’ asked Fanis. ‘It’s a special offer. You can pay in instalments and the first one is in two years’ time.’

‘Go ahead,’ I replied. With all that had been happening, I would need to take care of my heart.

Adriani walked out of the sitting room, leaving us alone. She always did that when she didn’t get her own way.

Once she had gone, Fanis leaned over to me and said confidentially: ‘It was Katerina’s idea, but I didn’t say anything because her mother would have gone into a huff.’

Before I had time to reply, the phone rang. It was Sotiropoulos. ‘Are your lot out of their minds?’ he said as soon as he heard my voice. ‘They think they can pin it all on those three yobs, do they?’

‘Don’t be ungrateful,’ I said ironically. ‘Those three yobs gave you the topic for your programme last night.’

He understood that the dig was aimed at his programme on the danger of right-wing extremism, and he didn’t reply straightaway. When he did at last open his mouth, it was one of the rare occasions that he sounded uptight.

‘I’ve got people over my head too, Haritos. And I can’t say “no” to them when they want to profit from some event, even if I disagree.’ He paused for a moment and went on: ‘So what do we do now?’

‘Nothing. We might have succeeded in doing something if I’d been able to talk to Andreadis.’

‘I tried, but he was adamant. I told you.’

‘Andreadis was adamant because he had got wind of what was cooking and he didn’t want to compromise himself.’

‘It’s possible. At any rate, keep hold of the material you’ve come up with. It won’t go wasted.’

Yes, I thought to myself. I could sell it to you to pay for the air conditioner.

‘Which Andreadis were you talking about? The politician?’ asked Fanis, who had been an unwilling listener to the conversation.

‘Yes, I wanted to ask him a few things about Stefanakos, but he refused to talk to me. Anyhow, now they’ve pinned it on those three yobs.’

As he was opening the front door to leave, Fanis bumped into Koula. I made the introductions.

‘So you’re the famous Koula who’s so impressed Mrs Haritos,’ Fanis said, laughing.

Koula blushed to her toes, mumbled a ‘she’s very kind’, and went into the house. When I had closed the front door, she stood there looking at me gravely.

‘No need for you to say anything,’ she said. ‘I saw it all on TV and I know.’

‘I saw Ghikas today.’

‘And?’

‘He said for you to finish your leave and then go back.’

‘That’s something, I suppose. At least I’ll get a bit of swimming in,’ she said with some sarcasm in her voice.

‘Are you upset about it?’ I asked.

She shrugged. ‘I have a father who paid dearly for his stubbornness and his tongue. And we paid for it along with him. It was all that upset that finished my mother off. And so I went to the other extreme. Get on with your job and whistle indifferently.’ She looked at me as if waiting for me to say something. But I had nothing to say and so she continued: ‘I came to tell you how happy I am to have met you and how much I’ll miss you. Both you and Mrs Haritos.’

Saying that, she went into the kitchen, where Adriani was preparing oven-baked perch. She waited patiently while she was regulating the temperature. ‘My work with the Inspector is finished and I came to say goodbye,’ she said. ‘And to tell you how happy I am to have met you.’

‘I’m happy to have met you, too, dear,’ said Adriani warmly, kissing her on both cheeks. ‘What will you do now? Go back to the office?’

‘No, I’m going to go swimming,’ said Koula, unable to hide her bitterness.

‘And we were thinking of going to see my sister on the island.’

‘You should. The Inspector needs it after all he’s been through.’

‘Keep telling him that,’ said Adriani, happy to have found an ally.

‘If I need your help now and again when I’m cooking, may I call you?’

‘Of course, whenever you want!’ Adriani replied enthusiastically. ‘And you can come round so I can show you.’

They kissed each other again and Koula rushed out, as if afraid she may change her mind and stay.

‘Wonderful girl,’ said Adriani as she watched her go. ‘And we never invited her to come and eat even once. Shame on us.’

‘Let’s have her round on Sunday.’

‘Good idea.’ But then she thought better of it. ‘No, perhaps not on Sunday.’

‘Why?’

‘Sunday is when Fanis comes.’

‘So?’

She didn’t reply, but the expression on her face made clear what she was thinking.

‘Are you in your right mind? Fanis is with women doctors and nurses all day. You don’t think Koula is going to turn his head, do you?’

She thought it over again and came out with her philosophical aphorism: ‘She’s a pretty girl and you never know.’

When I thought of it, as things had turned out for me, I was ready to believe it.

The high-speed are every Tuesday and Thursday,’ said Adriani. It was nine in the morning and she was dressed, decked out and ready to go for the tickets.

‘High-speed?’

‘The fast boats that do the trip in six hours, stopping only at Paros and Naxos. The regular boats leave every day, apart from Saturdays.’

‘Buy tickets for the fast one.’

She left at high speed lest I changed my mind and told her to leave it for later. I was about to revert to my old ways in order to pass my time till Thursday. I would go by the kiosk and pick up all the papers, then plant myself in the little square of St Lazarus, at the cafeteria with the sourpuss waiter, who brought you watery Greek coffee after you’d asked for strong and sweet.

I was wondering how I would pass my time on the island and whether I should buy myself a fishing rod and folding chair before going or buy it there when the phone rang.

‘Inspector Costas Haritos?’ The voice was that of a young woman.

‘Speaking.’

‘Inspector, a few days ago you had asked for an appointment with the politician, Kyriakos Andreadis.’

I couldn’t believe my ears. If I’d been told that the three yobs had been released and that Yanoutsos had been looked up in their place, I wouldn’t have been more surprised. I only just managed to whisper a ‘yes’.

‘Mr Andreadis will expect you at two o’clock today in his office. Please don’t be late because at three he has a parliamentary session.