Jeffrey Siger_Andreas Kaldis 02 Read Online Free PDF Page A

earliest. Those weren’t unusual hours for him or for his friends on weekends, and, yes, they were underage for the clubs, but so were a lot of kids from fancy neighborhoods who hung out there. They got in because they could afford it or some family celebrity-status made them attractive customers. Some, like Sotiris, got in for both reasons.
    This time Kouros’ answer was, “About what?”
    “Mr. and Mrs. K.”
    Kouros shrugged. “They were pretty much out of it. Especially her. Until that doctor got there with a sedative, I thought she was going to lose it big-time.”
    “Me, too.” Andreas stared at the gate. “Something’s not right about this. They couldn’t name one person with a possible grudge against their son or them. All they needed to do was open a newspaper, any newspaper, and find Linardos spelled in capital letters. But they didn’t even mention the name. It was as if that family didn’t exist.”
    “He had to be thinking the same thing we were. The most obvious suspect was someone tied into the Linardos family.”
    Andreas nodded. “For sure, but he’s never going to tell us. It’s not in his DNA. He can’t ask for help. Certainly not from cops.”
    “The wife seemed pretty close to saying something. I thought she was going to explode.”
    “What I’d give to be a fly on their wall when she wakes up and starts tearing into him.” Andreas gestured for Kouros to start the car. “May as well stop hoping for miracles and get back to police work. Let’s find those two friends of the boy. We’ll come back here in a day or so, after the funeral, and try to get her to talk. They’re not going anywhere.”
    ***
    Andreas learned early on as a cop that sixteen year-old boys lived forever. They all knew that rule. It applied to all boys, not just those with doting parents forgiving all trespasses, indulging all whims, and setting no boundaries. It was a hormonal thing, so every cop knew they were at the core of the most dangerous age groups to predict. Children died of war, famine, disease, and other, far too remote causes, to raise even a passing thought of personal mortality in most sixteen year-old minds. Thankfully, most grew up unscathed in any serious way.
    He also knew not all were so lucky. A few died, some survived close calls, and others were left to grieve the fates of their peers. But even the most personal of accidental tragedies, a friend’s horrific, deadly motorcycle crash, rarely had but short-term influence on their behavior. In their minds, they were protected from a similar fate by greater skills, better judgment, and the ever-intoxicating bravado of their hormones.
    But that rationale would not help Sotiris Kostopoulos’ friends deal with his death. Perhaps, if he’d died in a car or boating accident, or they were kids from a violent neighborhood where crime on the streets many times brought death, it would be different for them, but murder was outside the experience of the Athens Academy crowd.
    Andreas and Kouros spent hours speaking separately to the boys in the presence of their parents. That was the quickest way of gaining the parents’ cooperation. Now, though, it was time to speak to the two boys individually, and away from hovering adults. When the parents objected, Andreas courteously explained their choices: one, accompany their children to police headquarters for a formal interrogation with stenographer, lawyers, and all; or two, allow the police to complete the questioning, informally, in a private home.
    Andreas thought that would get him the desired cooperation, but Greeks were notorious negotiators, even with police, and the father of one of the boys would not relent. Andreas was certain the two friends weren’t suspects and knew if he pressed it to the point of involving lawyers it might be days, perhaps longer, before he got to speak to them. So, they compromised: no parents, but the boys remained together.
    The home they chose was only a few blocks from