Jeffrey Siger - An Aegean Prophecy

‘Sitting in a car for hours eating spanikopita?’

‘Better. Reading everything we can find on every monastery and every monk in Mount Athos. Which reminds me, what did you dig up on the Protos’ buddy, Sergey?’

‘Nothing bad. Yeah, he was one mean motherfucker in his army years, but no war crimes stuff. Seems to fit the profile for many who lose themselves in monasteries. They’ve seen it all, done it all, and now want to forget it all.’

Andreas nodded. ‘And what about that computer backup the abbot promised to send us?’

‘Maggie said it arrived this morning, but nothing on it as far as she can tell except for esoteric comments by Vassilis on church doctrine and liturgy. She actually likes that stuff.’

‘Well, I’m about to make her even happier by getting her started on pulling things off the Internet.’ He picked up his phone and dialed Maggie’s number.

‘Should I get them here or wait until after the helicopter lands in Athens?’ asked Kouros.

Andreas was holding the phone to his ear, waiting for Maggie to pick up. ‘Get what?’

‘The spinach pies. I think five dozen should be enough. After all, twenty major monasteries, no telling how many related places, and a couple of thousands monks. How long can that possibly take?’

‘Like I said, thanks for trying to make me feel better, and the next time you — Hello, Maggie…’

They’d gone through almost two dozen spanikopita and three pots of coffee. Andreas was glassy-eyed and Kouros claimed to be numb ‘for a lifetime’ to anything clerical. Maggie, on the other hand, seemed in virtual heaven. She said she couldn’t believe she’d been asked to immerse herself in the study of her church as part of her job, and get paid overtime for doing it. A lot of overtime.

‘I can’t read another word. I just can’t.’ Kouros pushed himself up from Andreas’ couch, stretched, and jumped up and down.

Andreas lifted his eyes from the pile of documents on his desk. ‘Stop that, you’re wrecking my concentration. I’ll forget where I am.’

‘That’s what I want to do,’ said Kouros, jumping three more times before stopping. ‘So much of this is all the same sh — ‘ he glanced at Maggie, ‘stuff, just written differently enough that I have to read it again and again and again. I see nothing.’

Andreas stretched. ‘I thought the first thousand or so articles were pretty interesting, myself.’

Maggie looked up from the chair she’d been glued to for hours. ‘Stop that, you two. This is very interesting. It’s the history of our church and of those special souls who dedicate their lives to honoring our past and our traditions in order to keep our church alive in the present.’

Andreas looked at Kouros, then at Maggie. ‘Cut us some slack, will you? We’re trying to find a clue to a murder, not impugn the church, and it’s…’ he looked at his watch, ‘… four o’clock in the morning.’

‘Like I said, Chief, I’ve had it,’ yawned Kouros.

Andreas threw his pencil on his desk. ‘Okay.’ He ran his hands through his hair. ‘Before we call it a night, do either of you have anything to tell me that might be helpful? Anything?’

Kouros shrugged.

Maggie scowled. ‘Okay, wiseasses.’

Andreas smiled. At four in the morning Maggie finally was letting them know who really ran their office.

She handed Andreas a single sheet of paper. ‘Read this.’

He looked at it. ‘I’ve read this or something like it a hundred times already. It goes monastery by monastery according to hierarchical rank, describing each one’s history, location, size-’

‘Well, read it again, and this time more carefully.’

Just what he needed, another teaching moment; but he did as she told him. It described a monastery ranking near the bottom of the twenty, but it had more monks than virtually any of the others. It also was one of the strictest and most severe. He read it twice, then looked up. ‘Okay, what am I missing?’

Maggie took the paper from his hand and began reading out loud. ‘“The monastery withdrew its representative from the Holy Community decades ago and does not take part in its assemblies.”’

Andreas gave her a blank stare. She turned to Kouros. He shrugged and then yawned.

‘If one of the twenty monasteries refuses to participate in assemblies of the Holy Community of Mount Athos, why then are there twenty abbots in the photograph with the Protos at his installation — instead of nineteen?’ She said the last three words very slowly.

Kouros shrugged. ‘No idea. And I’m too tired to make a joke.’

Andreas stared at Maggie. ‘Twice in one day.’

‘What “twice in one day”?’ said Maggie.

‘That I’ve missed the obvious.’

Kouros reached for another spanikopita. ‘Don’t forget about the cross.’

Andreas nodded. ‘Fine, okay, three times.’ He looked at his watch. ‘Too late or early to call the Protos?’

‘Both,’ said Maggie. ‘He’s probably in the middle of morning prayers.’

‘I’ll take that as a sign to get some sleep.’ Andreas stood up. ‘At least now we have a question to ask.’

‘Do you think he’ll talk to you over the phone?’ asked Kouros.

Andreas shrugged. ‘Won’t know until I try. He gave me his landline numbers when we were in Ouranoupolis. They’re probably more secure than the prime minister’s, but if it’s something he doesn’t want to talk about I’m sure he’ll let me know.’

Andreas looked at Maggie. ‘Any idea of what his potential answer might be?’

‘Probably something obvious, like everyone came out of respect for the office of protos.’

‘Sort of like warring families getting together at a church social?’ Kouros was smiling.

Maggie shook her head. ‘You can’t help yourself.’

‘Would you prefer something more earthshaking? How about, “The devil made me do it”?’

Guessing at answers was a big part of every cop’s life. In Andreas’ experience some were better guessers than others, but even the best of them rarely were right on the mark, just close enough to point the way. Great, he thought, the devil made somebody show respect for the Protos.

Ever so quietly he crept into the room. Like a thief in the night. But a naked one, on tip-toe. Andreas had dropped his clothes on the floor outside the bedroom. Muscle memory brought him around the bed, extreme care lightly onto it. No covers tonight, he thought, the movement might wake her. Ahh, made it.

PLOP. An arm dropped across his bare chest. ‘Anything interesting happen today, my love?’

‘I can never sneak in on you, can I?’

‘Nope, and don’t you ever forget it.’ She patted his chest.

He rolled over and kissed her. ‘Missed you.’

‘I bet. After all that time alone with monks even Mother Theresa would look good.’

He laughed and touched her belly. ‘How are you guys doing?’

‘Great.’ She snuggled up to him. ‘Now that daddy’s home.’

He kissed her forehead. ‘Me, too.’

‘Tassos sent us the strangest gift today.’

‘What was it?’

‘It came from a florist, but I guess he was trying to tell me to learn to cook.’

‘Huh?’

‘It was wrapped with pink and blue ribbon — to cover all possibilities I assume — with a lovely note, but I can’t figure out why he sent what he did.’

‘What did the note say? I might have a better fix on his sense of humor.’

‘Something like, “May your home always be filled with joy and love, and may this protect your family from all that is not.”’

‘What did he send, a gun?’

‘No, wise guy,’ and she gently squeezed his nuts.

‘Careful, they’re not used to much action these days.’