Jeffrey Siger - Assassins of Athens

'Expect the down payment tomorrow.'

Efisio stared at Demon again, then shook a finger in his face, but not in a menacing way. 'You're not crazy. No, you are far too dangerous to be crazy.'

The driver pulled over to the curb and stopped.

'This is where you get out, I believe,' said Efisio.

Demon looked around. They were on Patission Street in front of the main entrance to the university. How the hell did he know? Or was it just coincidence? Then he thought, of course, Efisio must have traced him here from his call to him this morning.

Demon said goodbye, opened the door, and got out. But before he could walk away he heard Efisio calling, 'Wait.' He'd slid over and rolled down the window. 'Sorry but I meant to say, "Thank you, sir."'

There wasn't a touch of sarcasm to the emphasized 'sir.' Demon was so impressed he smiled and nodded.

Efisio smiled, too, but all toothy, like a shark. 'Or should I have said "thank you Demosthenes Mavrakis."' The glare was back.

And Demon's smile was gone, along with the black Fiat.

Demon was angry with himself. He'd been sloppy. All these unanticipated problems were no excuse. He had a goal to achieve, and soon. He must be more careful. He had no ID with him so Efisio didn't get his name from anything in his clothes. They knew before he got into the car, which meant they'd photographed him. Probably at the Arch, and while he was bouncing around Athens on his little metro odyssey they were showing his picture around the university until someone recognized him. Simple.

But there was an upside to Efisio's bit of theatrics: it let Demon know the son of a bitch was watching his every move. Another example of why it never paid to lose your temper. Efisio could have followed him straight to Anna, which was exactly where Demon was headed at the moment.

'Shit.' He mumbled the word aloud. 'I can't see her anymore.' He decided to go home to the apartment listed in the phone book. They probably knew about that one by now anyway. He would miss her. With Anna he never had to pay the political rhetoric price one endured to screw Exarchia hangers-on. She never even complained when she got pregnant. But, what the hell, giving her up was his price for being careless. He took it as a learning experience. Which reminded him: time to raise tuition for Zanni Kostopoulos' next lesson. 'He's in the apartment, Chief.' It was Yianni.

'Anything new?'

'Not so far. He got back about ten minutes ago. No phone calls, only rock music and bathroom sounds.'

'Enjoy. But stay on your toes. He's definitely going to do something, and I'm guessing today's big run-around has him a lot more careful. Don't let him sneak out a back door on you while you're listening to a concert.'

'Will do.'

Andreas hung up and looked at his watch. It was almost nine. My god, I haven't called Lila!

He grabbed the phone and dialed.

'Hi, it's Andreas.'

She laughed. 'I recognized the voice.'

He thought to apologize quickly, before she started in on how inconsiderate men were. 'I'm so sorry that I didn't call sooner but-'

'Darling, I understand completely.'

He wanted to say, 'You do?' but decided to keep his mouth shut.

'And I can't believe you took the time to send me those beautiful flowers.'

Here it comes, the sarcastic build up to World War III.

'And with such a lovely note.'

Andreas decided to speak, 'Lila, I know how you feel-'

'No, you don't,' she sniffled. 'You've been so nice, so understanding, and then… to remember to send me flowers… with so much on your mind.'

Andreas made a tactical decision. 'I'm glad you liked them.' And held his breath.

'I loved them.'

They spoke for twenty minutes about everything but the case. He let her know they'd talk about that in person.

The last words Lila said before hanging up were: 'Can't wait to see you. I'll call you tomorrow when I get back. And again, thank you for the flowers. I can't tell you how much they meant to me.'

He put down the phone and looked out the window. It wasn't like he was lying. He would have sent her flowers… if he'd thought about it.

But who sent them? And why? No one knew she was there but — then it hit him, Tassos knew. That bastard was teasing him. No, not Tassos; he wouldn't think of sending flowers any more than Andreas would. Besides, he'd already let on that he knew about Lila and the hotel. Sounds more like something Maggie would do. But how did she know about Lila… and Mykonos? He leaned back and shut his eyes, but only for an instant. He sat straight up and called Maggie at home.

'Hello.'

'When did you speak to Tassos?'

'Do you ever start a conversation with a simpler question, like "Good evening, Maggie. How are you?"'

'I don't have time for this.'

'It's about the flowers, isn't it?'

Andreas was fuming. 'Yes. Well, in part. What did he tell you?'

'Not as much as this conversation is.'

He could see her smile through the phone. 'Maggie!'

'Okay, he didn't call me. I called him.'

'Why?'

'What did you expect? You told me he was asking about me. That meant he wanted to talk to me.'

Andreas didn't understand the logic, but somehow he knew she was right.

'Okay, so what did you talk about?'

'Nothing about the case, I assure you.'

'Just tell me.'

'None of your business.'

He drew in and let out a breath. 'Okay, tell me the part that is my business.'

'Fine. He said he bumped into you on the plane from Mykonos and got the impression you met someone there you liked but didn't have time to see her. I asked for her name and where she was staying.'

'That's all he said?'

'Yes, that's all he said.' She snickered.

'Uhh… what about the note?'

'What about it?'

'What did it say?'

'I miss you desperately. Marry me.'

'Maggie!'

'Sorry I had to leave. Hope you understand. Kisses, Andreas.'

He paused. 'Thank you. That was very nice of you.'

'You're welcome.'

'So, when are you going to see Tassos?' He knew that was inevitable.

'He'll be in Athens tomorrow.'

'That's quick, he must be interested.'

'Let's hope, but he won't have time to see me, he's catching a plane.'

'To where?'

'Didn't say, but my guess is Italy.'

Andreas' pulse jumped. 'Why do you say Italy?'

'Because I offered to cook dinner. He said he couldn't make it for dinner, that he had to catch a plane but lunch was open. I said I had to work. He said "too bad" because it looked like he was going to be eating only pasta for a while. See what I give up for you.'

'Thanks, Maggie,' and he hung up.

Andreas picked up a pencil with his right hand and studied it. Then he talked to it. 'What are you up to, my old friend? Are you with the good guys or the bad guys? Or haven't you decided?' His thumb was in position to snap the pencil to pieces. 'Do I trust you or don't I? Should I or shouldn't I? To press or not to press, that is the question.'

Andreas compromised. He threw the pencil against the wall and went home. Demon posted a typical Facebook message on the 'wall' of an innocent account holder who had agreed to be a friend of Gertrude Louise. The account belonged to a celebrated member of Parliament with thousands of Facebook friends, most of whom the member didn't know. But politicians didn't say no to someone asking to be their friend. Of the thousands of other friends who might read his message, Demon only cared about the one with a computer instantly alerting him to any Facebook postings by Gertrude Louise.

Demon sat staring at his computer, waiting for a reply. He reread his message: I have a once in a lifetime marketing opportunity that requires printing 300,000 fliers by tomorrow. Please, only respond with the name of a printer who can do it tomorrow. It's either tomorrow or never. Thanks, Gertrude Louise.