Devil of Delphi: A Chief Inspector Andreas Kaldis Mystery by Jeffrey Siger

place holding valuable goods. Or illegal ones. The gate had a guard, so we couldn’t get close enough to verify what was inside, but our guy went through a door marked OFFICE and stayed there for about a half-hour. A half-dozen other salesman-looking types went in and out the same door while we waited for our guy to come out.
    “When he did, we followed him to Kifisia. He parked next to an apartment building listed as the address for the car. He went upstairs to an apartment, and from the street we could see him with what appeared to be his wife and two young children.”
    “Just your typical, hardworking, Greek family man,” smirked Tassos.
    “Trying to make ends meet selling bootleg,” said Kouros.
    “From the neighborhood you tailed him to, I’d say he’s making a hell of a lot more than any liquor salesman I ever knew,” said Andreas.
    “I checked him out. He’s connected through his wife to a political clan up north.”
    “Let me guess.” Tassos gave him Tank’s family name.
    “How the hell did you know that?” said Kouros.
    “Lucky guess.”
    Andreas answered for him. “An informant told him that a member of that family had gone into the bootleg business. It all fits. His nickname is Tank and he keeps his organization tight by using family members wherever he can.”
    “The warehouse looks like it could be a major distribution point for his booze. We could hurt him real bad with a raid,” said Kouros.
    “He’d probably claim he uses it for his legitimate booze business and didn’t know anything about the counterfeit,” said Tassos. “But even if you nailed some of his relatives in the warehouse in the act of putting phony tax stamps on bomba , I doubt you’d catch more than small fry.”
    Andreas made a fist. “We have to yank this network out by its roots. That means shutting down his producers and distributors, not just taking him out. Otherwise, all we’re doing is making it easier for another bootlegger to step into his shoes.”
    “Not sure we can ever avoid that from happening,” said Tassos.
    “We can try,” said Andreas.
    “Sounds like you don’t want him to know we’re onto him,” said Kouros.
    Andreas nodded. “Not until we see if we can get a shot at bringing down the whole operation.”
    “Works for me,” said Kouros. “Just tell me where to go from here.”
    “Have Petro stay on the Kifisia relative. I want a list of everyone he contacts. And once Petro has those names, tell him to do the same for the other salesman-looking types you saw at that warehouse. That should give us a handle on the distribution side of his business.”
    Kouros made a note in a pocket-size notebook. “Got it.”
    “I want you to head up north and see what you can find out about the production end. But be careful who you talk to, because with all the money involved, anybody could be in Tank’s pocket.”
    Tassos nodded. “And he won’t take kindly to someone he thinks might be trying to shut him down, even a cop.”
    “Especially a cop,” added Andreas.
    “When do I leave?”
    “As soon as you can.”
    “Guess that means I’m out of here. Got to get home and pack. It’s been a pleasure, gentlemen.” Kouros stood and smiled at Tassos. “Amazing how a man of your age can still manage to stay up all night.”
    Tassos shrugged. “It’s simple. Don’t take care of your prostate.”

Chapter Nine
    Teacher sat in her study surrounded by things. All very expensive, immaculately maintained, and scrupulously accurate in presentation. Not one offered her a memory of her past. Any that did, even fleetingly, were banished to an auction house. Even the lone photograph in a silver frame on her desk pictured a young girl, someone she never knew, symbolizing a life she’d never lived.
    She would have preferred never returning to Greece. Certainly not in search of another headstrong man to work for her, given the bitter disappointment of her last experience on that score. But this new one