Jeffrey Siger - Mykonos After Midnight

“Us?”

“Yes, us.”

“I need to shower.”

“No time.”

Sergey walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Wacki stared at his watch.

Thirty-five minutes later Wacki and a showered, clean-shaven, immaculately dressed Sergey presented themselves aboard the two-hundred-twenty-foot motor launch Medea.

As soon as they walked into the main salon, Sergey spread his arms and smiled at the woman in sunglasses sitting in an overstuffed chair off to his right. “Teacher, what a wonderful, unexpected surprise. I hope it is the first of many such visits.”

Teacher smiled and put out her hand. “Always nice to see you, Sergey.”

Sergey immediately came forward and kissed her hand.

“Please, sit,” she said.

Sergey sat in one of two straight back chairs in front of her. Wacki stood.

“Both of you, please.”

Sergey glanced at Wacki. Wacki did not take his eyes off of Teacher as he sat in the second chair.

“Thank you, both, for coming.”

“Our pleasure,” smiled Sergey.

“I’m on Mykonos because I want a face-to-face update on the status of our project.”

Sergey glanced at Wacki. “In front of him? He doesn’t know anything about it.”

“I can’t believe he would betray us.” She looked at Wacki. “Would you?”

Wacki gestured no twice. “Absolutely not. No way.”

“Good,” said Teacher.”

She looked at Sergey and smiled. “So, please continue.”

“Certainly, Teacher.” He crossed one leg over the other. “We are on target to have the casino license within a matter of weeks.”

“Weeks you say?”

“Yes, there have been some delays. Nothing unexpected, but delays nonetheless.”

“How are things going with the ministry of finance?”

“Our representative is ready to make the introduction to the minister the moment we have the necessary materials.”

“You’ve had no contact with him yet?”

“It would be premature to fire a gun without ammunition.”

“Good point.”

“Have you spoken to anyone about our plans?”

“Of course not.”

“I mean a lawyer, someone to help you with all the applications and paperwork necessary to gain the license.”

Sergey looked surprised. “I’m sorry, I did not know that was my responsibility. I thought you would want to use people of your own choosing.”

“Yes, of course. How silly of me. It must be all this medication. It’s making me forget.”

“How are you feeling?” said Sergey. “That was the first thing I wanted to ask when I saw you, but thought it inappropriate in his presence.” He dipped his head in Wacki’s direction without looking at him.

“No, not at all. I am feeling much better than many wish. I hear their prayers for my death and it inspires me to go on.”

“May they rot in hell,” said Sergey.

“Too good for them,” she smiled. “And what about the ministry of tourism? How is the approval process coming along for the assignment of the hotel lease?

“No problem whatsoever. We’re all set. Lefteris says it’s only a matter of our signing the final papers.”

“And when will that occur?”

“I thought it best to coordinate the timing of the assignment of the lease with the issuance of the license from finance. After all, why be stuck operating a hotel without a casino license?”

“I thought you said there was ‘no problem’ with the license, that it would be only ‘a matter of weeks.’”

“Yes, but I saw no reason not to be cautious.”

Teacher nodded. “Caution is a good thing. There are people out there trying to take advantage of us.” Teacher looked at Wacki. “Trying to turn one of us against the other.”

Sergey said, “Him?”

Teacher shrugged.

“I know he talks behind my back. Probably to you. But I thought it just typical, petty, Greek jealousy bullshit.”

Wacki sat perfectly still.

“He has told me many things.”

Sergey struggled not to glare at Wacki.

“But nothing unexpected.”

“Tell me his lies. I’ll refute them all.”

Teacher shook her head. “No need for that, I have only one question for you.”

“Ask.”

“It is a simple question.”

Sergey blinked. “Please, just ask it.”

Teacher moved her face close to his. “Remember when you told me, ‘Lefteris’ eyes popped wide open when I gave him our offer’?”

“Yes.”

“Did you ever tell Wacki how much you were paying Lefteris for the hotel?”

Sergey paused. “Why are you asking that?”

“Please, just answer the question.”

“As best as I can remember, no.”

“You mean there’s a chance you told him?”

“No, I’m certain I didn’t.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because the price I offered Lefteris was the price he accepted. We never had any conversation about price. I simply handed him a piece of paper with my offer on it and he accepted it.”

“Did Lefteris tell anyone?”

“Not that I know of. In fact, he told me he didn’t want anyone to know the price.”

“What about the ministry of tourism?”

“Well, yes, he had to inform them.”

“And what price did he tell them?”

“The one we agreed upon. The one you told me to offer.”

Teacher leaned back. “Good.”

Teacher stood up. “Sergey, please help me to the upper deck. I’ve arranged a wonderful celebratory dinner for the three of us, sailing around this beautiful island in the moonlight.”

“Sounds delightful,” said Sergey taking Teacher’s arm.

She nodded to a man dressed all in white standing at attention at the rear of the salon. He spoke into a communicator, the engines roared to life, the lines were undone, the anchor came up, and the boat was away.

Maggie dropped into bed exhausted. I’m getting too old for this craziness, she thought. Her next thought was of tomorrow, and she was asleep in minutes.

The window at the rear of Maggie’s first floor apartment in the working class Pangrati section of Athens wasn’t completely closed. A screen kept the neighborhood cats out, but not the breezes that made Athens’ summer nights bearable.

The man was very quiet, very professional. He took his time removing the screen and carefully lifted the window without a sound. He slid inside like a predator who’d done this a thousand times before.

The apartment was dark. He listened for a sound. Nothing. He knew the woman was here. He’d seen her come in an hour and a half ago. The lights had been out for over an hour. She had to be asleep. He moved on his toes, making not a sound.

The bedroom must be straight ahead. The door was closed. He listened. He heard nothing. He pressed softly against the door. It moved without a sound. The room was filled with moonlight. There was a body in the bed, red hair on the pillow.

He took the stiletto from his pants pocket, silently flicked it open, quickly stepped across the room, and drove the blade into the woman’s neck. Three times, quickly. Each time expecting something that did not happen.

A light went on as a closet door opened by the foot of the bed and a man in a dress said, “Surprise!”

The killer lunged at the vision, slashing away at it with his knife.

Or at least he tried to.

When the attacker woke up several hours later, he had two broken knee caps, a compound fracture of his right wrist, four broken ribs, a broken nose, broken jaw, fractured cheekbone, and double hernia.

When Maggie Sikestes woke up the next morning in her boss’ guest bedroom, detective Yianni Kouros promptly apologized for the bloodstains on the dress he’d borrowed from her. He also thanked her for providing him with the opportunity for some of the most fun he’d had in years, plus credit for arresting the last of Christos Vasilakis’ killers.