J. Margos - Shattered Image

“Sergeant Major, I have finished the bust.”

I first explained about the input from Dr. Nakis, and then I told the sergeant major that Dr. Nakis’s affidavit would be part of the documentation I would sent to CILHI.

“And what is the result, Dr. Sullivan?”

“It is the image of Captain Theodore P. Nikolaides.”

“Well, thank goodness.”

It was as emotional as I ever heard the sergeant major get. Each time I had worked with him previously, we had identified the man CILHI was searching for, and each time the sergeant major had a similar response. He was a soldier through and through, but his heart was in this work for sure.

“It all sounds excellent, Dr. Sullivan. I’m sure we’ll find the results satisfactory. I’m glad that we could identify Captain Nikolaides and close his case.”

“Yes, so am I.”

I felt odd talking about Ted as if he were a case, but the sergeant major tried to stay detached in his work. He saw hundreds of “cases.” He had one disappointment after another in those cases when ID’s could not be made. He allowed himself one heartfelt expression of relief, and then he was back to business. I wondered what, if any, emotion he allowed himself in private.

“If you would, Dr. Sullivan, send all your materials-notes, photos, Dr. Nakis’s affidavit-send all that to me. Dr. Carroway and his team will review everything and make an official determination as soon as they can.”

“Any idea how long it will take, Sergeant Major?”

“I would say at least two weeks, Doctor.”

“Very well, then I would like to request permission to tell Mrs. Nikolaides the results-unofficially, of course. It would really be impossible for me to keep the information from her.”

“Of course, that’s fine, as long as she and you understand that the results are not official until they are declared so by CILHI.”

“Yes. We both understand that.”

“Another nice job, Dr. Sullivan. Thank you for your time and dedication to these projects.”

“It is always my privilege, Sergeant Major.”

We said our goodbyes and hung up. My next call was to Reverend Iordani. I wanted to go and tell Irini, but I didn’t want to do it by myself. Besides, I thought she should have a minister there for her when she got this news. Reverend Iordani answered the phone on the second ring.

“Reverend, it’s Toni.”

“Oh, Toni, how is everything going?”

“I finished the bust on the CILHI case, and it is Ted Nikolaides.”

“Ohhh…” He made a soft clicking noise with his tongue. “Well, I guess even though it’s sad, it’s a good thing now that we know. Bittersweet, though. Are you okay?”

“Yes, Reverend, I’m fine.”

I actually wasn’t sure how I was, but I didn’t want to get into a protracted discussion of all that now.

“Reverend, I need to go and tell Irini and I want to tell her in person. Can you go with me, say, later this afternoon?”

“If you can wait until about four, I can go.”

“I think that will be fine, Reverend.”

“Then meet me at four at the Chuck Wagon out on Highway 71. Do you know where that is?”

“Yes, I know exactly where it is. I’ll see you there.”

I said goodbye and we hung up.

I was glad to have it all done. Glad it was over now. Glad that I had Chris’s work to back me up.

There was still this frustration over Addie Waldrep’s and Brian Ferguson’s deaths, though. It was eating at me more than ever. Now that Ted’s status was confirmed, all I had unresolved was finding the murderer of Addie and Brian, and determining the whereabouts of Doug Hughes.

I closed the studio door once again. I needed to pray. There was so much death around me lately, and the evil that had caused those untimely deaths had unbalanced what little inner stillness I had. I would pray for a while-for Ted’s soul, and to try to reclaim my peace and harmony with the Creator-to put the evil out of my mind and keep it from infecting my peace. By then, it would be time to clean up, so I could rendezvous with Reverend Iordani.

I met Reverend Iordani at the Chuck Wagon right on time. It was on the highway between Austin and Dripping Springs. Dripping Springs was a little bedroom community outside of Austin, and it was where Irini Nikolaides made her home. Irini lived on a three-acre spread where she grew vegetables in her own garden and made baked goods for a local bakery. She also raised goats and had a thriving goat dairy.

I parked in the lot at the Chuck Wagon and went inside. It was a dive, but they had great coffee and that was why Reverend Iordani loved this place. We sat down and had a cup together, and I told him about the bust of Ted.

“So, then, we’re sure it’s him?”

“Yes,” I said. Then I told him about Chris’s part in the reconstruction.

He nodded. “Well, that’s it, then. She didn’t even know him.”

“No, she didn’t.”

“Let’s go. I’ll call Irini and tell her I’ll be there in five minutes.”

We got into Reverend Iordani’s car and he called Irini. After he hung up, we said a prayer and headed for Irini’s place.

When we pulled up to the gate, Irini was there to open it. Irini was so short, she barely cleared the top of the gate. She may have been small, but she was strong enough to swing that heavy gate open all by herself. Dad said she had the map of Greece on her face because of her large nose and full lips, but she was Greek from head to toe with her stocky build. It had not been that long since I had seen her, but she seemed much older now. Her dark hair had been peppered with gray for years, but now there were more lines in her olive skin and the light in her dark eyes seemed to have dimmed. She saw me in the front seat and her expression darkened immediately. We pulled up to the house, and as we got out of Reverend Iordani’s car, Irini walked up to greet us. She kissed Reverend Iordani’s hand in greeting and asked for a blessing, which he gave readily. We all hugged and then went inside.

“I know I should wait until I serve you some coffee and something to eat, but I can’t,” she said. “You must tell me now. I know that’s why you are here. It is either bad news or worse news, so tell me.”

Reverend Iordani looked at me. He was there with me, but he clearly indicated to me with his look that he thought it was my responsibility to tell her what my findings were. He was right. I had made the ID, with Chris’s support, and it was my job to tell her.

“Irini, I have finished the work. Before I finished it, I had Chris Nakis come and check what I had done and give me her opinion. Her opinion matched what I thought. Irini, CILHI has found Teddy.”

She stood before us for what seemed like minutes, but I know it was only two or three seconds. Then she clutched Reverend Iordani’s shoulder and cried out with the pain she had held for all those years. It was the sound that reflected what we all had known was true, but it was also the sound of hope at last abandoned. She sobbed and Reverend Iordani held her and comforted her. I moved in behind her and put my arm around her shoulder. The three of us stood there in a huddle and there was no sound between us all, except for Irini’s crying and her mumbled Greek that I didn’t understand. I don’t know how I did it, but somehow strength and composure was mine-or at least God let me believe that it was mine.

It was another day of rain and gloom. The rain was actually pleasant, soft and steady and much needed if the bluebonnets were going to flourish this year. Without the thunder, lightning and high winds of a typical Texas storm, this was actually soothing, and I needed soothing. I stood at the back French doors with hot chamomile tea and watched the rain nourish every green and budding thing in the backyard.