Jeffrey Siger_Andreas Kaldis 02 by Assassins of Athens Page B

and left the office.
    “Sorry, Chief.” Kouros was looking at Andreas as he spoke.
    Andreas stared at him. “You got the point?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “Good.” Andreas paused. “Do you have someone watching Anna?”
    “Yes, a team’s been watching her building since first thing this morning.”
    Andreas nodded. “Now, find out what the hell has happened to those three families and where the Kostopoulos family is now. We’ve got to start talking to people. Maybe we should chase down that Demosthenes guy?”
    Kouros shook his head. “The prints came back. Clean as a whistle. Not even an unpaid parking ticket.”
    “Damn, I’d have sworn he was involved in this somehow. Run him by Interpol, just in case.”
    “Already did, Chief. Nothing on him.”
    Andreas jerked his head to the side as he swore again.
    Kouros said, “Do you think we should start talking to members of the Linardos family? I mean, if all this banishment stuff is true, they’d sure seem likely to be part of it.”
    Andreas buzzed Maggie. “Any word on Sarantis Linardos?”
    “His secretary said he’s still out of town. She’s not sure when he’ll be back.”
    Andreas looked at Kouros. “I wish we had something more to go on than a hunch. But until we speak to him,” Andreas pointed at the intercom, “I don’t see us getting anywhere banging away on garbage cans in the middle of every Linardos family member’s living room.”
    Kouros said nothing.
    “Yianni, I made my point before about the…” he rolled his hand in the air, “other thing. That’s done and finished, you can return to your normal self.”
    “Yes, sir, I understand. No garbage in the living room.”
    “Or the bedroom, please.” Andreas grinned.
    Maggie knocked before opening the door. “Here’s her home address. She lives next to the Palace at 30 Irodou Attikou.” Perhaps the most exclusive street in Athens; only a few blocks long and filled with money.
    “Guess it’s time to shine my shoes.”
    ***
    Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. For many it’s blond hair, sparkling (capped) teeth, an overworked gym membership, and of course, big tits. On the other side, it often seems to be his gold Rolex, endless ego, and full-term-pregnant size belly—with the relevance of all else measured inversely against the depth of his financial statement.
    Lila Vardi fit no one’s mold. Practically every big-time Lothario, kamaki , social climber, and fortune-hunter in Athens, plus a few visiting players, took a shot at her. She had heard the same lines so many times she feared her eyes bore a permanent glaze. As if that weren’t bad enough, only respect for her mother’s incessant good intentions kept Lila from cutting her veins rather than enduring another tortured moment in the presence of one of her mother’s “finds” for her.
    Lila kept her jet-black hair short, her almond-shaped brown eyes bright, her well-toned skin tanned, her figure trim, and her lovely-to-look-at breasts unhampered by a bra. When she felt like it, nothing stood between her body and what the rest of the world saw her wear. She liked it that way. A little sensual secret she kept to herself, for no man had been with her since her husband died. She liked that, too. His memory was the only man she wanted in her life. She was thirty-five and satisfied herself in other ways.
    Her current passion was volunteer public relations on behalf the Museum of Hellenic Art. Virtually single-handedly, she kept its world-renowned collection in the public eye. Through her society friends and media connections, rarely a week passed without some story, or at least a few photographs, appearing in one of Greece’s most popular celebrity magazines or tabloids. It wasn’t an ego trip; it was what kept the museum alive. There might be smiles on their faces and dignity in their voices, but among most museum boards fundraising was a relentless battle against fickle giving habits and opportunistic competitors. In keeping