Tassos was in Andreas’ office by four and up to speed by five. That was when Maggie swung in with coffee, a meze selection of food, and a quick apologetic, “Sorry to interrupt, but I must keep up my men’s strength.”

“Stick around,” said Tassos. Kouros and Tassos were sitting on chairs next to Andreas’ desk. “We’re about to start guessing at what has our fearless minister so hot to close an investigation into two murders.”

“Which ones? Things are happening so quickly these days that I’m losing count,” said Maggie.

“The ones on Tinos while we were at your grandniece’s baptism in Thessaloniki. You’re probably better qualified than we are at guessing what’s on a bureaucrat’s mind.”

Maggie set the tray on the desk in front of Tassos. “Make that on any man’s mind.” She dropped onto the couch.

“Okay, let’s start with what’s on yours,” said Andreas nodding at Tassos.

Tassos picked up a spanakopita. “Your friend, the police chief, has been on Tinos for only a little over a year, but he got the interviews right. Tsigani don’t take revenge that way.” Tassos pointed the tiny spinach pie at his chest. “I know the tsigani very well and they know me, but I wouldn’t have gotten any more out of those interviews than Odysseus did. The two were killed to deliver a very specific message. Any response had to come from the one who received it. No other tsigani would dare make that decision. Certainly not by talking to cops. Besides, tsigani know from experience that cops don’t give a shit about what happens to them.”