‘Maybe he knew the monk?’

‘I’m sure he did,’ nodded Andreas.

‘Bet it wouldn’t take much to get him talking.’

Andreas smiled. ‘Probably no more than, “Would you like to join us?”’

‘So, what do you think the monk was doing running around outside the monastery at that hour?’

‘No idea, but I’m pretty sure he was coming from, not returning to, the monastery. His body was found in the square by the entrance to the lane we took coming here. If he’d been walking through the square he’d have seen whoever was waiting for him. And even an old monk would have put up a struggle for his life. That would have left marks on his body. Besides, if he were returning to the monastery, whoever killed him would have waited up the lane where there were places to hide, and the body would have been found there.’

‘My bet is he was meeting someone.’

Andreas nodded. ‘And I’d bet the answer to all this somehow ties into that meeting.’ He drummed his fingers on the table. ‘Was he giving or receiving? Telling or listening?’ He shook his head. ‘No idea.’

‘Here’s your coffee.’ Dimitri put two cups, a coffee pot, sugar, and milk on the table. A boy behind him set down plates of cakes and cookies. ‘Compliments of the house.’

Andreas looked at Kouros. Kouros winked.

‘So, Dimitri,’ said Andreas. ‘Would you like to join us?’

Dimitri launched into a running monologue on ‘all things monastery,’ supposedly to show ‘what to expect from the abbot.’ Andreas doubted Dimitri’s views were shared by everyone; certainly not by the monks, but he was entertaining and obviously knew far more than any outsider about what went on inside the monastery. Dimitri had grown up within the literal shadow of its walls, had family who rose to prominence in the monastery’s hierarchy, operated his business for years within steps of its main – and he claimed only – entrance, and fought almost daily with monks and the abbot over what he considered their unfair interference with his business.