Andreas rolled his eyes. He’d grown used to that sense of humor. They’d been together since Andreas was chief of police on Mykonos and Kouros was a brash young rookie.

Kouros laughed.

About a minute later the door burst open and a middle-aged man about Andreas’ height, but with a noticeable potbelly, stormed into the room. ‘ Who the fuck do you think you are?’ he screamed, moving his eyes between Andreas and Kouros.

Andreas smiled. ‘I’m the one you’re looking for, Captain. How nice of you to take time out of your busy schedule to drop in for a chat.’

The captain pushed himself straight into Andreas’ face. ‘You’re an asshole and I don’t give a fuck who you think you are, this is my island and no one talks to me that way. No one.’

Andreas smiled. ‘Simple choice. Start cooperating or grab your worry beads and start praying. My job description includes investigating police corruption anywhere in Greece. So if you and your island want to make it to the top of my shit list, just keep it up,’ Andreas lifted his hands and patted the captain’s cheeks, ‘ kukla.’ The use of the endearing word for ‘doll’ in Greek did not hide Andreas’ message: go ahead, test me, asshole.

The captain drew in and let out a quick breath, then stepped back, so fast that Andreas made a mental note to seriously consider starting an investigation.

Andreas stared at the captain. ‘I understand you believe the monk was the victim of a random mugging?’

‘What else could it be?’ His tone was edgy.

‘That’s what I’m asking you.’

‘He was a monk. Been here forty years. Everyone loved him. He had no vices, no girlfriends, boyfriends, or enemies. His life was an open book. No one had a motive.’

‘You think he just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time?’

‘Yes, he probably was attacked by some of that same scum that drifts in during tourist season to prey on whatever looks easy. We get that sort passing through every once in a while.’ The captain paused. ‘Why, do you think some psycho with a grudge against the church decided to take it out on poor Vassilis?’ He smiled as if he’d already anticipated and dismissed Andreas’ thinking.