The Icon

“What?”

“I shouldn’t speak to you about this.”

“You knew she was Fotis’ niece, that’s how you met her.”

“I knew she was his niece, but I didn’t yet understand who he was. He even pretended to disapprove, just to tempt me, knowing she and I would fight him.”

“And why exactly did he do that?”

“Who knows? Maybe he thought it was a way to steal me from his old pal Andreas, turn me into the son he never had. God knows he tried, but I saw through him soon enough.”

“This is bullshit.”

“You don’t know, you weren’t around.”

“I don’t need to have been around. I don’t even have to be your son to see through this, because either you loved her, so nothing he did mattered, and it was right. Or you didn’t, and it was wrong. Either way it’s on you, nobody else. So don’t try to feed me this garbage. And by the way, I know we’re having this heart-to-heart, but I don’t want to know the answer to that, OK? She’s my mother, so keep it to yourself.”

The figure had vanished from the window, and the rain increased. Matthew breathed deeply in an effort to calm himself. He could not have imagined, even minutes before, being so angry with his father. Yet it was a pure, righteous, cleansing anger, and he could not wish it away, even knowing the guilt he would feel later.

“Of course, that’s true.” Alex seemed deflated, yet his face still had a warm flush of color, unseen there for weeks. “I’m sorry I spoke of this. Please don’t ignore everything I’ve said. Please take warning.”

“Let’s go inside, you must be getting cold.”

“No. I don’t feel anything.”

Ioa

“Good morning, Father.”

“And to you, my son.”

“So, Tomas is gone. Vanished.”

“It would appear.”

“Left a whole congregation sitting in their pews last night, waiting on the word of God.” The little man paced the room restlessly, checking his pockets, pulling out a small pistol to caress it.

“Poor bastards.”

“Father Makarios told me.”

“Did he also tell you that half a million dollars of church funds disappeared with him?”

“I didn’t know the amount, but it was clear there had been a major embezzlement.”

“He’s the one you should be looking for.”

“I assumed that you and Makarios were doing that. Unless you are depending upon the police.”

“Hah. Makarios can’t even bring himself to tell the police, thinks the little devil will repent, show up with a good explanation. They hate a scandal. Anyway, I’ve got some people looking.”

“I suspect he took that money for himself, to go underground.” Ioa

“But you never found out who the donor was.”

“He didn’t tell us.”

“He could have invented the donor.”

“Yes, he could have.”

“So who is this man you’re going to visit? Andreas Spyridis?”

Ioa

“Someone who came here from Greece around the same time all this business started. Who has a history with the icon.”

“Not from the church?”

“No, a government man. Retired, but he still checks in, or they check on him, or maybe the Americans do. Anyway, we were able to locate him. I don’t know that he’s involved, but it’s a fair guess. I wish you would put that gun away.”

“You say government. You mean intelligence, state security, something like that?”

“Yes, but he’s old. Even older than me.”

“Old or not, we may need this,” Jimmy said, brandishing the pistol. “I’m not going unarmed.”

“I’m not asking you to go at all.”

“I think you will find that Father Makarios insists upon my involvement.”

“Yes.” Ioa

The little man did not like being identified.

“I’m his nephew. That’s not important.”

“And you are some sort of civilian detective?”

“Private investigator, we call it. But I work mostly for the church.”

“Ah, a knight of Christ. How unfortunate that they have enough work to keep you busy.”

“Why don’t we go see this man right now?”

“Because he’s not there. He left the city for a few days.”

“So we sit?”

“I’m sure there are other things you could be investigating. Do not let me hold you.”

“You know more than you’re telling. I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

“I need to emphasize that if you are going to follow me, you must do exactly as I instruct. I will not tolerate interference, whatever Makarios says.”

“All of you are the same,” the little man whined. “Think you know another man’s business better than he does. Why? Because a divine light leads you? Priests should not lead investigations.”

“Tell it to God, brother.”

The Co

The trip to Boston had been a waste of time. He had seen the widow of one of his operatives. The man had done good and unrewarding intelligence work for twenty years and lost his pension when he came to live in America, rather than return to a Greece run by the colonels, a place he no longer recognized. Andreas had been unable to help him then, and could do very little now but pay respects. He had made dozens of such visits in recent years. They did not get easier. The American contact he’d met in Cambridge was an old friend, but he was at a lower level than Morrison, semiretired and teaching college, and could be of no help. It had sickened Andreas to sit there, trying to remember what a good man this was, how important human contact was for any soul, yet only be able to think in terms of the utility of the meeting. Information gained versus time lost. Had the ability to think in any other ma

He was eager to get back to Alekos. That was certainly part of it, but his son was probably grateful for the break. The two could not spend much time in each other’s presence, whatever degree of underlying love there might be. Andreas would have to return to Athens soon, unless Alex took a turn for the worse. The hotel bill grew unwieldy, and there was a claustrophobia about New York he could not tolerate. The main thing was to make sure that Matthew had not gotten himself involved in any serious way with Fotis’ scheming. That was where his primary energy should have been focused all along, but he had gotten Müller’s scent in his nose again. Best to let that go. In any case, Be

He had resisted acquiring one of those portable telephones that everyone carried, and he deeply resented the seven meaningless phone conversations that went on simultaneously in the seats around him. Yet he could see how they were useful; they might have been indispensable to his kind of work, in fact, if they had existed twenty years before. Being without one, however, he waited for the ten-minute break in New Haven to go down into the dank, silent tu