Jeffrey Siger: Target: Tinos

Punka looked nervously at the six.

“Your friends are smart enough to know better. Are you?”

Punka pushed himself back from the table, stood up, and walked toward the door. Andreas followed, nodding to the six as he walked by their table.

Outside, Andreas led him to the car. “Get in.”

“I thought we were taking a walk?”

“We did. To the car.” Andreas opened the rear door.

Punka hesitated.

“Do I have to make another speech?”

Punka got in and Andreas slid in next to him. “Drive,” he said to Tassos.

Punka started asking questions the moment the car moved, but Andreas and Tassos ignored him. Tassos drove around for about twenty minutes until it was clear no one was following them. He pulled off onto a dirt road and parked amid a grove of olive trees hidden from the road.

The first words Punka heard were, “Get out,” delivered by Andreas after Tassos had opened the rear door on Punka’s side. Andreas slid out behind him.

Andreas held out a pack of cigarettes. “Smoke?”

Punka took a cigarette and waited for Andreas to light it.

“Light your own,” said Andreas handing him a lighter.

Punka’s hands were shaking as he lit the cigarette. “You guys really are cops, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, we’re cops,” said Andreas.

Punka seemed to relax.

Why does that make him feel better? He must be really frightened of someone.

“I want to see some identification. I should have asked for it before.”

“Yes, you should have.” Andreas smiled, but reached into his shirt and pulled out his credentials.

Punka’s lips moved as he struggled to read. “Jesus, you’re Chief of Special Crimes.”

“And you don’t think he’s here just to talk about your two pieces of shit dead brothers, do you?” said Tassos.

Punka glared at Tassos. “Don’t talk about my brothers that way.”

“Stop blowing smoke up my ass,” said Tassos. “You’re the reason they’re dead. You know it and we know it.”

“I had nothing to do with what happened to them.” His left eye was twitching.

“Convince me,” said Andreas.

“Fuck off. I have the right to a lawyer.”

“Yeah, right,” said Tassos.

“We’re going to bury you in Kordydallos as an accessory to the murder of your brothers,” said Andreas.

Kordydallos Prison Complex was Greece’s main prison, housing maximum security and other prisoners in the suburbs of Piraeus, the southwest port city of greater Athens. It was repeatedly cited as one of the worst prisons in Europe for overcrowding and alleged inhumane treatment of detainees.

“You can’t prove that,” said Punka.

Tassos laughed. “Who cares? How long do you think you’ll stay alive inside once those friends of yours that you’re so afraid of find out why you’re in there? What do you think the odds are that they’ll let you live a week with what you know?”

“You’re dead meat the moment you step inside those ugly gray walls,” said Andreas.

Punka was shaking. “I told them not to get involved.”

“Yeah, sure, you did,” said Tassos.

“I told them I didn’t care how much our clan stood to make on the deal, it was pure suicide. But they wouldn’t listen. I said, ‘stay out of it’ don’t get involved. You don’t live very long crossing the Albanians.”

Greeks had a habit of referring to any group that controlled an industry, legal or illegal, or a government of any sort as “mafia.” But they didn’t mean the cinematic Godfather kind who broke legs and chopped off heads-equine and other-to make their point. At least not until recently. Now, they had the real kind to worry about. And of all the organized crime finding its way into Greece, by far the most feared and dangerous hailed from Albania. Virtually every aspect of Greece’s organized crime activity somehow fell within the Albanian gangs’ spheres of influence and bore their violent imprint. They might partner with tsigani, Russians, Greeks, or others, but they came from a land of blood feuds and possessed of a view on the value of life far different from the Greeks.

They did not represent all Albanians, of course, no more so than Italian, Russian, or Irish mobsters were indicative of their cultures. But on any list of mean mother-fucking European gangsters, Albanians ranked numero uno.

“What deal?” said Andreas.

“I don’t know, but it was something big on Tinos.”

“Stop fucking with us, Punka. Don’t tell me you ‘don’t know.’” Tassos stepped toward Punka.

Andreas put out his arm to stop him. “Like the man said, ‘Stop fucking with us.’”

“Honest, not even our clan leader knew. He got paid to move the camp to Tinos with the promise there’d be a lot more if we ‘behaved’ and did as we were told.”

“What do you mean ‘behaved’?” said Tassos.

“Not get in any trouble on Tinos.”

“Who made the deal with your clan?” said Andreas.

“No idea. But I heard he wasn’t rom.”

Tassos said, “You expect us to believe your clan made that kind of deal with a total stranger?”

“It’s like our leader said, ‘the money’s real, so who cares who’s paying?’ Besides, times are tough and it wasn’t as if we were giving up anything.”

“How about living? Remember, you said you were crossing the Albanians,” said Andreas.

“The deal to move to Tinos was made before I knew anything about the Albanians. It wasn’t until I heard about metanastes crews making similar deals that I realized Albanians weren’t included.”

“Similar deals?” said Andreas.

“Yes, to move to Tinos.”

“And behave?” said Tassos.

Punka nodded. “Yes.”

“And that’s why the clan booted you out?” said Tassos.

“Yes, because once I realized the Albanians were cut out of whatever was going to happen on Tinos, I tried getting my brothers to stay out of it, not get involved.”

“Who killed your brothers?” said Andreas.

“No idea.”

“Who do you think might have wanted them dead?” said Andreas.

“No idea.”

“For someone supposedly so upset about the murder of his brothers you don’t seem to care much about finding their killers,” said Andreas.

“As if you’d ever find them.”

“We found you, didn’t we, asshole?” said Tassos.

Andreas shook his head. “Here’s the deal, Punka. It’s a one time take it or leave it opportunity for you to live longer than a week. Get us the name of whoever ordered the hits and if we find that you’re right you walk. If you don’t come up with a name, you’re the one who goes inside for the murders.”

“And by the way, don’t try to run,” said Tassos. “We’ll find you again and next time…you’ll simply disappear.”

Punka looked at the ground.

“Do you understand?” said Tassos.

“Yes.”

“Good,” said Andreas. “Now, I want you to tell us everything you know about your brothers and Tinos, starting from the beginning. And I mean everything.”

It took an hour, but Punka didn’t tell them anything more than he already had or was in the Tinos police reports. Nor did he tell them anything that conflicted with what they knew. It was just a more embellished telling of the same message: I told my brothers not to cross the Albanians.

When they finished they drove Punka back to the taverna. He didn’t say a word this time. Not even a goodbye when they dropped him off.

“I think he’s scared,” said Andreas. They were back on the highway heading toward Athens.

“Yeah, when the Albanians want revenge against one part of a family, they don’t care who else they take out to get it.”

“No, I meant of you,” said Andreas. “You practically scared the hell out of me. That was some chance you took going after him for his brothers’ murders.”