Off the record, Andreas had orders to tread lightly with the locals. As a young, single man wielding considerable power on a small island, he knew that word of his every move would get around fast. As far as he was concerned, Athens wasn't a much bigger place when it came to gossip – and he liked it that way. That was how he got some of his best leads. If the warning meant to avoid fooling around with the local women, he already knew better. Any self-respecting cop would. Besides, Andreas had no intention of incurring some local family's vendetta – or of tying his future to a Mykonos clan for the rest of his days.

His morning flight was packed with early-June tourists. He fit right in, except he already had his tan – it came, along with his dark hair and gray eyes, from his parents. So did his square jaw and decent good looks. The counterbalancing bump and slightly crooked tilt to his nose – the collective work of several folks who'd ended up looking a lot worse – let you know Andreas wasn't someone to mess with.

'Looks like it's going to be a busy season,' said the guy in the aisle seat next to him. He was about Andreas' size but looked twenty years older.

Andreas hated talking to people on airplanes. Something about planes made people want to tell you things they'd never dream of talking about with strangers on the ground. Maybe it was something about being up in the air, above the earth and closer to God. Or maybe it was just nerves.

'You're Greek, aren't you?' The man was speaking Greek with what sounded like a South African accent.

Andreas had to respond in order to avoid seeming rude. He nodded.

'Sure hope it's busy. Business was slow last year.'