A Deadly Twist Jeffrey Siger (book recommendations txt) 📖

“Because when I asked if the locals who’d be keeping an eye on me could be trusted, he said, ‘They know what would happen to all of them and their families should any one of them ever break his word to me.’”

“That’s quite a reputation,” said Andreas.

“You said something before that piqued my curiosity,” said Maggie.

“What’s that?”

“You said, ‘At the time’ Soter thought you’d been targeted because of the story about him. Did his thinking change?”

“The second day I was here he called to say that he didn’t think our interview was the cause.”

“Why did he say that?” asked Andreas.

“He said there was still a contract out on me, but a new contract had just gone up, offering even more money for anyone who immediately took out another target on Naxos, this time an Athens cop. That contract was attracting a lot of attention from a low-end crowd of thugs, indicating a state of panic on the part of whoever had put out those contracts. Soter’s clients would never use such unprofessional types, nor would they have hired the inept one who intended to kill me outside my hotel.

“Besides, it made no sense for someone afraid of what Soter might say to go after the person to whom he’d told his story. He could tell his story to any number of journalists. The only way to keep more stories like it out of the press was to kill Soter, not the writer. All of which led him to believe there must be another motive behind why someone was after me.”

“Any idea what that motive might be?” said Andreas.

“That’s the kind of ‘step back and think out of the box’ approach I’m never good at when it comes to looking at myself.”

“As the cop whose contract kill price topped yours, permit me to offer a possible answer.” Yianni leaned in across the table. “You kept a sixth notebook. I’ve seen five of them. What’s in the sixth?”

She appeared surprised. “I had the idea for another article I wanted to write after finishing the tourism piece. It’s based upon a strange local character I came across purely by chance, selling honey from the back of a pickup truck.” She took a sip of water. “He was a true fast-talker, and in the traditional style of Greek men, tried to impress me by claiming his honey-selling operation was just a hobby to keep himself in touch with local common folk. His real money-generating operation was in artifacts. I tested him with my slight knowledge of the subject and must admit he impressed me with what he knew. But not enough to buy his honey.

“Later on, in my interviews with locals, I’d ask if they knew Honeyman, and everyone had a story about him. Usually it involved the term ‘con man,’ and some had very sharp words to say. Most suspected he was involved in the illicit antiquities trade. But what really got my attention was when some said he’d approached them as the representative of different companies seeking to assemble vast parcels of beachfront land. I smelled a great story in this but didn’t want to get into any of that in my tourism piece. I wanted to save it for a special article. So I put anything relating to his story into notebook number six, and as far as I know, no one knows about my plans for that story, except my editor and publisher.”

“Did Honeyman know?” asked Yianni.

“No.”

“But you did ask a lot of people about Honeyman?”

She nodded. “True, but if he knew, I doubt he would have showed up at my farewell party the night that man tried to kill me.”

“He was there?” said Andreas.

“Yes, I was surprised too. I’d invited everyone who’d helped me with the piece, including Honeyman. I couldn’t risk slighting him and losing his cooperation on my story about him. Frankly, I didn’t think he’d fit in with the crowd, but he stayed to the bitter end.”

Andreas looked at Yianni. “Well, now we know who the someone was who tipped off the killer that Nikoletta was on her way back to the hotel.”

“And why the killer had a phone,” said Yianni. “Honeyman must’ve called him when Nikoletta left the bar.”

Andreas decided not to tell Nikoletta that Honeyman was dead. No reason to alarm her further.

“You said Soter calls you?” said Yianni.

“Yes.”

“Do you ever call him?”

“Sometimes.”

“Do you have his number?”

“It’s on speed dial on the phone he gave me when he brought me here.”

“May I see it, please?”

“Sure, but it’s locked.” She smiled, “and not with one of those top five passwords.” She punched in a code and, as she was about to pass the phone to Yianni, said, “I’ve got a new message from him.”

She read the message and shook her head with a grin. “Wait until you hear this. ‘Hi, Nikoletta. Now that you’re safely in the hands of the police I can rest easy and go back to simply being a fan of your columns who’s heading off into blissful retirement. Stay safe. By the way, these phones will get the police nowhere, and I’m dumping mine now.’”

Andreas nodded. “I guess the locals watching out for you are doing a good job of keeping him informed. Well, let’s pack up and get you back to Chora and on to Athens.”

“I don’t want to go.”

“What do you mean? You could still be in danger.”

“As you said, the locals are keeping a close watch on me, and how will I be any safer walking Athens’s streets or in my apartment than I am here? Until you find whoever’s behind this, I think this is the better place to be. Besides, I’ve been remarkably productive with my writing here.”

Andreas looked her straight in the eye. “Honeyman and two others involved with him have been murdered. This is real, Nikoletta.”

She blanched. “Wow.” She shook her head. “Wow, wow, wow.” She shook her head again. “Where do you plan on keeping me?”

“I don’t know yet. For