Andreas wasn’t buying the pitch. ‘We’re not pilgrims.’

The man smiled. ‘I know, you’re cops.’

He’d caught Andreas off guard. ‘Are we that obvious?’

The man laughed. ‘No, I saw you in the square with Mavros.’

‘Mavros?’

‘The sergeant.’ He patted Andreas on the shoulder. ‘Hi, I’m Dimitri, and welcome to my place. Follow me, please.’ He led them out a rear door onto a broad balcony running the length of the building. It literally hung off the edge of the mountain, looking out above Skala and off to the horizon as far as the eye could see.

‘This is quite a view,’ said Kouros.

‘Sure is,’ said Andreas. He wished Lila could be here.

‘Thank you. Please, sit down.’ Dimitri pointed to a large table by the open railing at the edge of the balcony. ‘I’ll bring your coffees. I know you are in a hurry to see the abbot.’

Before Andreas could speak, Dimitri added with another smile, ‘Only a hunch, but I saw you leave for Skala. Now you’re back in Chora, and five minutes ago you walked past my place headed in the direction of the entrance.’ He pointed toward the monastery. ‘Now you’re back again and only want coffee. I assume you’re waiting to go inside, but since the monastery is about to close to tourists for today, my guess is you’ve come back to meet someone inside. And the only one in the monastery who would dare talk to the police about what happened to Vassilis is Abbot Christodoulos.’ He walked away from the table.

Kouros stared at Andreas. ‘Maybe we should just post our schedule on the front door of the town hall.’

‘Doesn’t look like we have to.’

‘How did he really know?’

‘One of the cops might have told him. Everybody gossips. It’s our national pastime. And on islands and in small villages…’ Andreas rolled his left hand out into the air. ‘Or, he might have figured it out exactly as he said.’