Petros Markaris - Che Committed Suicide

The Secretary hesitated for a moment, but eventually spat it out. ‘Is it out of the question that this latest suicide has nothing to do with those right-wing extremists? After all, the three that we arrested are not the entire organisation.’

Ghikas was ready to explode and almost leapt up from his chair. The Minister saw his reaction, but kept his composure.

‘Completely out of the question, Stathis,’ he said to the Secretary with an ironic smile. ‘Vakirtzis was in favour of the enforced repatriation of the illegal immigrants. He had even done a series of programmes on the topic. Would the extremists kill someone who wanted to get rid of the illegal immigrants? You’d better pray that none of his colleagues remember the programmes, because then we really will look ridiculous.’ Suddenly, no longer in any mood for humour, he said to the Secretary coldly: ‘Thank you, Stathis. That will be all.’

The tone in which he said it sounded more like he was firing him. The Secretary left the office in silence without saying anything to anyone. As soon as the door had closed behind him, the Minister turned to us.

‘Will someone please tell me what’s going on?’ he asked, looking at Ghikas.

‘Inspector Haritos will explain. He gave up his sick leave to carry out investigations at my request,’ he replied.

The Minister’s gaze fell on me. In such circumstances, the difficult thing is not to paint too pretty a picture and at the same time avoid sowing the seeds of panic. ‘I honestly still don’t know what’s going on, Minister, and why Favieros, Stefanakos and Vakirtzis committed suicide. I am certain, however, that someone made them do it.’

I told him about the biographies, about Logaras’s fake address, about the different publishers, and how Vakirtzis’s biography had been delivered to me at home by courier. He listened carefully and his expression grew increasingly worried.

‘What was it that aroused your curiosity?’ he asked me when I’d finished.

‘Two things. The fact that the suicides took place publicly. Figures like Favieros, Stefanakos and Vakirtzis would never make a spectacle of their suicides by choice.’

‘And the second thing?’

‘That although the biographies were, on the whole, eulogies to the deceased, nevertheless there were allusions to shady activities.’

He looked at me gravely and said very calmly: ‘In other words, we’re not going to avoid a scandal?’

‘What can I say? It’s certain that Logaras, whoever he is, knows what he’s writing, at least in the cases of Favieros and Stefanakos. I haven’t had time yet to read Vakirtzis’s biography.’

‘Who else knew about all this?’

I had been wondering when this question would come up. Ghikas and I were the only ones who knew about it all. To arrive at the arrests of the three toughs meant that one of us had spoken to someone else. I turned and stared at Ghikas. He avoided my gaze and spoke directly to the Minister.

‘Mr Petroulakis, the Prime Minister’s adviser, asked me personally for certain information. The Inspector visited him and told him what we knew.’

What he couldn’t tell him was that we both had something to gain from talking to Petroulakis: Ghikas because he was looking to his promotion and I because I was fighting for my job.

‘And why didn’t you tell me all this?’

‘Because we didn’t have any tangible evidence whatsoever,’ Ghikas replied immediately, obviously having anticipated the question. ‘First of all, these were not murders but suicides, therefore, officially speaking, we couldn’t carry out any investigation. And what emerged from the Inspector’s investigations naturally gave rise to certain questions, but without any evidence. It was only after Vakirtzis’s suicide and after Logaras had sent the biography to the Inspector that we had grounds for suspecting that this was instigation to commit suicide.’

‘And because you had no tangible evidence, you preferred to talk to an ignoramus, who immediately tried to hush the matter up in the most puerile of ways.’

The comment was warranted and we kept our mouths shut. He took it as a silent admission of our guilt and sugared the pill for us.

‘I wouldn’t want you to think I’m trying to ascribe blame for the handling of the case, I’m aware that everything happened behind your back,’ he said to Ghikas. ‘The truth is that we’re stuck with a very unpleasant business, whereas we could have done what every good politician in Greece does: we could simply have ignored it. Now we don’t know how to get ourselves out of it.’ He again looked at Ghikas. ‘Do you have any ideas?’

‘Yes. We won’t release the three extremists just yet. We’ll announce that we’re still questioning them concerning the murder of the two Kurds. In the meantime, we’ll let it leak that the successive suicides have given grounds for suspicion and that we are investigating the reasons behind them. As for the latter, we won’t escape some ironic comments from the press, but at least no one will be able to accuse us of holding the three youths as scapegoats.’

The Minister reflected for a moment. ‘All right. That’s how we’ll proceed. We don’t have any options.’ He reflected a little more and then turned to me. ‘Do you think we’ll have more suicides, Inspector?’

‘I wish I knew, Minister. Perhaps Vakirtzis’s was the last, perhaps not. Unfortunately, we don’t know why they’re committing suicide and we don’t know who Logaras is, because evidently he’s the one who’s pulling the strings.’

‘The idea that there may be more terrifies me.’

‘Me too. But there is one ray of light after yesterday.’

Ghikas and the Minister both turned and stared at me in surprise. ‘And what’s that?’ asked the Minister.

‘The biography that Logaras sent me. He sent it because he wanted to open a channel of communication with me. And I believe he’ll continue.’

‘Why did he do that?’ asked Ghikas.

I shrugged. ‘Perhaps because he thinks he’s smart and he wants to play with me. Then again, perhaps he’s getting ready to reveal why he forced them into suicide. The one sure thing is that he knows that I’m the one dealing with the suicides. And for him to know that means that he must be one of the circle of people I’ve questioned.’

Just as I said it, the thought flashed through my mind that Logaras may have found out from Sotiropoulos. I had told Sotiropoulos almost all the details of my investigations. It wasn’t unthinkable that he had discussed it with a colleague and that it had leaked out that way. I didn’t dare reveal to the Minister and to Ghikas that I had had dealings with Sotiropoulos and let him in on my investigations. The former would have given me a dressing down and the latter would have thought I’d lost my wits during my sick leave because he knew how I detested reporters of all kinds.

It wasn’t often that Ghikas did me the honour of giving me a lift in his limousine, but that day he made an exception. Perhaps because that case was an exception to the rule. When you’re dealing with the murders of locals and foreigners, underground bosses and Russian Mafiosi, the patrol car is more than enough. But when you’re moving in the big league where business tycoons, politicians and hotshot journalists commit suicide, you acquire a different air and find yourself now and again stepping into a limousine.

As we entered Ghikas’s outer office, I saw the policeman quickly hiding a magazine in one of Koula’s drawers. It seemed that Ghikas had taught him well in the meantime, because he made sure he turned his head in good time to the wall.

‘Are you thinking of cutting short your sick leave and coming back?’ he said, once we were sitting in our usual seats.