‘Thank you for seeing us. I know how busy you must be during Easter Week, and now, with all that’s happened…’ Andreas shrugged.

The abbot’s smile faded and he nodded. ‘Yes, Vassilis was one of my favorites, all of us loved him. He will be missed.’ He drew in and let out a breath. ‘I cannot imagine who would have done such a thing.’

‘You anticipated my first question.’

‘It makes no sense. None at all.’ He shook his head.

‘There must be something. Has to be.’

The abbot gestured no. ‘I cannot think of a single person with whom he ever had even a cross word.’

‘What did he do at the monastery?’

‘Do?’

‘Yes, what were his duties?’

The abbot smiled. ‘He was a scholar. Loved the library. When we started modernizing – digitizing texts for computers – Vassilis insisted on taking part, “so nothing went wrong,” he used to say. He made himself computer literate and kept the younger monks on their toes.’

‘Was it unusual for him to be out of the monastery so early in the morning?’

‘Yes. I wish I knew why.’

‘So do I. Was something bothering him, was he complaining about anything?’

‘We live in a monastery, there’s always complaining. But Vassilis was one of the few who tried to discourage that sort of thing. He’d say, “Stay focused on the positive, let God deal with the negative.”’

The abbot had an easygoing smile and way about him. He seemed of the unflappable sort that never quite allowed you to know what he was thinking. The perfect diplomat, the perfect churchman, thought Andreas.

‘Sounds like someone who liked to avoid controversy,’ said Kouros.

‘Yes, I think that’s a fair way to describe him.’