They were standing in the piazza by the monastery’s gift shop. It was closed and the piazza virtually deserted. ‘No way some local did this,’ said Andreas.

‘Way too professional,’ said Kouros. ‘But why?’

Andreas shrugged. ‘My guess is vengeance or fear. But it had to be a hell of a motive to lead to this.’

‘You think it might be tied to Vassilis’ past, from before he became a monk?’

Andreas shook his head. ‘I doubt it. Can’t imagine whatever drove this taking forty years to come to a head.’

‘Maybe one of the visiting monks noticed something?’

‘Maybe,’ said Andreas, looking at his watch. ‘Jesus, I never called Lila to tell her I wouldn’t be home tonight.’

‘Don’t worry, I spoke to Maggie and told her to call.’

Thank God for his secretary. Maggie ran Andreas’ office. Most thought she ran all of Athens General Police Headquarters, better known as GADA. She’d been there longer than the building. Maggie’s long-time boss had retired a few weeks before Andreas was promoted back to GADA from Mykonos, and when the human resources director suggested she retire with him, the political buttons she pushed had the director staring at his own retirement. That’s how the legendary Maggie Sikestis came to report to Andreas – or, as it so often seemed to Andreas, vice versa.

Andreas let out a breath. ‘Thanks, Yianni.’ They started toward the stone path leading back to the town square.

‘No problem.’ Kouros smiled. ‘But to be honest, Maggie said she’d already called her.’

Both laughed.

‘ My friends, please, come join me.’ It was Dimitri shouting to them from his open front door.

That guy doesn’t miss a thing, thought Andreas. ‘Thanks Dimitri, but-’

‘You haven’t eaten yet, have you? And if they fed you inside,’ he pointed toward the monastery as he spoke, ‘you must be even hungrier.’