Jeffrey Siger - An Aegean Prophecy

She sighed. ‘Should I call Yianni?’

‘No reason to, at least not yet. Let me speak to the Protos first. I want to hear what he has to say about all this.’

‘He may be hard to reach. After all, it’s Holy Thursday.’

‘Even to learn the whereabouts of Satan?’

Maggie’s face was serious. ‘Especially so.’ She picked up and waved Dimitri’s note. ‘Sometimes, not knowing is better.’

For a little less than three more days Zacharias must remain a faceless monk, locked away among more of the same, droning on in endless prayer within the walls of an undistinguished monastery. It would seem the perfect place to lurk unnoticed by the world. But this wasn’t Zacharias’ style. He hated being one of a flock. His preferred form of anonymity involved standing in the shadows of power, silently appreciated by everyone who mattered for his behind-the-scenes contributions to their successes.

How far things had come. Some would say it was luck, but he knew better. It was ordained. Nothing else could explain his escape from that prison camp, safe passage to Switzerland, and good fortune at finding a new identity easily matched by modest plastic surgery. It was ordained, even if his new features did require the death of the original bearer. But the man got to die in a splash of publicity, albeit anonymously: ‘Escaped war criminal dies in fiery crash.’

Now, all of that was old news, lost as a footnote to history and of no interest to anyone. No one knew of his true past, not even the three collaborators he’d dispatched to Patmos who shared a similar history. His mind wandered from the three men to thoughts of what might have happened on that Holy Island.

Zacharias kept reassuring himself that even if something went wrong, he was covered. Everyone who counted owed him, and not just those living on this Holy Mountain, because all men seeking higher position in the church at one time or another passed through Mount Athos. Powerful men, like that fast-rising abbot on Patmos who called him ‘my true friend.’ Still, that wasn’t what kept him safe. Owed favors only went so far. Indeed, today was the day for remembering the ultimate betrayal.

No, he had a far greater hold on all those he’d helped. They’d bought into him, vouched for him, called him brother and meant it. And they knew enough about his past that if the full truth ever came to light they’d never convince a soul they hadn’t known it all from the beginning. It would bring every one of them down with him, and a crippling scandal to Mount Athos and the church. Yes, they would protect him. They will protect him, because they must protect themselves.

Andreas left two messages for the Protos. The first was, ‘Please call me as soon as you can.’ Thirty minutes later he placed a second call saying, ‘It’s urgent.’ He was about to call again when Maggie came into his office.

‘I think you’re going to be interested in this.’

Andreas looked up.

‘I did the follow-up you suggested on that war criminal. Swiss authorities took no dental or DNA records, and what was left of the body was cremated at the request of family.’

‘How convenient. So much for a simple way of proving someone else fried in that car. By the way, what’s the part that’s going to interest me?’

‘We’re not the only one asking questions.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘A few weeks ago, someone else wanted to know if there was some way to identify the body “for certain.”’

‘You’re putting me on.’

‘The caller said it was an inquiry “in connection with a church matter.”’

‘Did they tell him?’

‘They saw no reason not to, but called him back just to make sure he was on the level.’

‘Please tell me they kept the number.’

Maggie smiled. ‘Their file note read, “Monastery of Saint John the Divine, ask for Kalogeros Vassilis.”’ She emphasized his name with her fingers.

‘Yes!’ Andreas pumped his fist in the air. ‘I just love Swiss efficiency.’

‘Yeah, but it takes a Greek to improvise.’

‘Meaning?’

‘If you can’t find a dead body, find a live one.’

‘And do what with it?’

Maggie stuck out her tongue. ‘Wiseass, if Zacharias is the war criminal, then whose identity did he assume in conning the abbot into admitting him into the monastery? I found the full name and details Zacharias used when obtaining his Greek citizenship papers and ran that past the Swiss. Their records have a man with that name leaving Switzerland for parts unknown.’

‘Let me guess, right after the war criminal died.’

Maggie nodded.

‘Any family?’

‘No record of any.’

‘Damn, another dead end.’

‘But, guess what, once more we’re the second one making the same inquiry.’

‘Vassilis?’

‘Yes, and less than a week before he died.’

‘Sounds like he’d connected the dots.’

‘But how could he prove anything? All roads lead to dead ends.’

Andreas leaned his elbows on his desk and held his head in his hands. ‘Did the war criminal leave family?’

‘Yes, according to the translations I had done — we Greeks also can be efficient — he had several brothers and sisters.’

‘Then there’s a superhighway leading to an answer. If we can get a sample of Zacharias’ DNA and match it against his blood relatives…’ Andreas spread his arms wide. ‘We’ve got the bastard,’ and slammed his hands together in a loud clap.

‘But how can we get him to cooperate? Mount Athos is an independent state.’

Andreas nodded. ‘Probably the same way Vassilis intended to do it, by telling the Protos what he knew and getting him to force Zacharias to cooperate. I’d bet my badge that was the real reason Vassilis insisted on the Protos coming to Patmos. To confront his old friend with the evidence and urge him to expose Zacharias for who he really is.’

‘But why wasn’t that proof on the USB drive in the cross Vassilis was bringing to his meeting with the Protos?’

‘My guess is… caution. Sort of the same reason for keeping the component parts of an explosive chemical reaction far away from each other, to avoid a bomb going off — in this case at the heart of the church. The flash drive only held clues to a silent coup d’etat underway on Mount Athos. Without the information on Vassilis’ computer, there was no way to determine who was behind it. The photographs on the USB were no more than a list of names. The catalyst that would make everything go boom was what Vassilis had come up with on Zacharias, and there was no reason to put that on the drive. Once Vassilis told the Protos his suspicions, everything could be verified from newspaper articles and public records.’

Andreas paused, then shook his head. ‘Or maybe Vassilis didn’t completely trust the Protos.’

‘You don’t really think that, do you?’ said Maggie.

‘I don’t know what to think anymore.’ He shook his head again. ‘If only the poor man hadn’t been carrying copies of the photographs. The killers recognized the faces in the doctored photograph and took that to mean Vassilis knew of Zacharias’ plan. They killed him to protect the plan — not the man. They may not even know about Zacharias’ past.’

Andreas picked up Vassilis’ list of monks from Zacharias’ monastery. ‘The reason Zacharias’ name doesn’t appear on this list is because Zacharias is not his real name. Here is his real name.’ Andreas pointed at the name of a war criminal supposed to have died long ago in a car crash in Switzerland. ‘Buried in the middle of a list of monks!’

Andreas smacked his desk. ‘I think it’s time to call the Protos again, and this time he’d better take my call.’