"I'm sure your wine is delicious. But it's a little early for me to drink wine and I was hoping to catch the last flight to Athens."

"You're leaving Samos so soon?"

"Unfortunately. My...my cousin needs me to chaperone her back to Athens."

"It is too bad that you must leave after two days and with such a bad taste of Samos in your mouth. I will pour you a small glass of wine and then I will call my friend and you can make an arrangement. In Greece, we are social before we transact business." He made refusal seem like a breach of etiquette.

"A very small glass, please." She sat down and, as he poured, she noticed that he wore a leather thong on his wrist with a small evil eye amulet. "I've noticed several people wear those charms."

"The mati is a Mediterranean custom. Jason's ship, the Argo, had an eye painted on each side of the prow when it sailed in quest of the Golden Fleece. Eyes were painted or carved on the bows of Greek war ships to keep away evil spirits. After all that has happened, it would seem that you need a protective talisman." He took off his bracelet. "Here. Take this one."

"I couldn't take your good-luck charm, Mentor."

"I have others."

"Thank you." She slipped it onto her wrist and tasted the wine. "This is very good. Almost like butterscotch."

"Ne, ne. Fermentation was slow, but it is aging well." He held his glass up to the light. "Will you come back to Samos after you see your cousin safely home?"

"I don't know." Much as she hated to admit it, K.D. was right. She had behaved badly toward Thor. She had been unreasonable and she especially regretted that crack that he might not be up to the job. "Yes, I think I'll probably return in a day or so."

Mentor shooed the black cat off his lap and tossed off his wine. "You and your young man should rent a room at the Larisa. Living in Marilita's house can only bring nightmares. "

"Did you know Marilita?"

"Only a little. She was seven or eight years older, but she often visited my mother and brought me sweets and picture books. Mother doted on her as if she were her own daughter. She liked her friend Nasos, too, mostly because of his mother. My mother and Rena Lykos lived in Athens during the Nazi occupation in '41 and '42. Hundreds of thousands of Greeks starved. It was Rena who saved our family and others, too. She beguiled a German commandant to give her food, which she shared. She had the heart of a lion. She disseminated resistance leaflets throughout city, and even smuggled arms and explosives to the Greek resistance in the north. At the end of the war, Rena's husband was killed by the German collaborationists."

"Nasos' father?"

"Yes. Rena remarried after the war, but she did not forget the barbarity of the fascists. When the junta came to power, with their tanks on every street corner and their martial music blaring constantly from loudspeakers, she was distraught. But it was death, or worse, to speak out against the junta. Anyone with leftist views kept them a secret."

Dinah knew about the atrocities perpetrated by the Nazis during WWII, but she had no idea that Greece had continued such flagrant abuses with the active support of her own government. She said, "Why do you think Marilita would have wanted to kill Nasos and Rena?"

Mentor refilled his glass and held it up to the light. "With ambrosia, Hera cleansed all defilement from her lovely flesh. Do you know Homer's poems?"

"No. Is there a reason you're evading my question?"

"My mother and Marilita were close until Marilita's death and my mother spoke of her with great affection. She never accepted the idea that Marilita could kill another living being. She said it was her sister Zenia who had the heart of a killer."

Zenia was a disagreeable old crank, but the rap against her started to seem to Dinah like piling on. "Why would your mother think Zenia could kill?"

"She poisons the village cats."

Chapter Twelve.

Mentor finally made the call to the tire man in Karlovassi and Dinah arranged to meet him in the parking lot at noon, four hours hence. She walked back toward Marilita's house with her phone in her hand, deciding. What would she say to Thor? That she'd been a blister? He would laugh and forgive her as he always did. That somebody had punctured her tires and she was afraid. Thor would tell her to go ahead and leave Samos and he would get back in touch with her when his mission was finished. But she had made up her mind. Danger or not, she wanted to be with him. She would take K.D. to Athens and as soon as she had put her on a plane back to the States, she would return to Samos.

With that decision, her anxiety abated somewhat and she concentrated on the arduous climb back to the village. These Samian hills were murder. So to speak. She stopped to catch her breath at the fountain above the parking lot. She had started up again when she heard the grumble of a car behind her. She turned to see the majestic grill of the Isotta Fraschini gobbling up the hill in breathtaking disregard the no cars rule. The jewel in the middle of Zenia's forehead scintillated in the sun like the third eye of a Hindu idol. Dinah jumped out of the way behind the fountain.

The Isotta surged past but lolloped to a jerky stop after another twenty yards. Zenia was no doubt on her way to assess the damage to the house. She motioned for Dinah to come forward.

"Running away, are you?"

"I'm walking up the hill, Zenia."

"Good. I'll want to speak with you when you get to the top."

"I'll get there faster if you give me a lift."

"Take your time. I need to speak with Alcina first." She gunned the engine and sped away, leaving Dinah to suck the Isotta's exhaust.

She trudged on feeling considerably less inclined to overlook Zenia's meanness because of her age and the tragedy of her sister. The charge of cat poisoning, if true, made her into an outright ogre. If she was bothered by too many cats, the woman was rich enough to have every cat on Samos spayed and neutered.

She's poked Kanaris in the eye but good. Dinah replayed what Brother Constantine had said. It was no mystery why terrorists or arms traffickers wouldn't want a cop in their midst. But why would anyone else give a rip about a cop on holiday? That first night in the taverna, Thor had let the cat out of the bag that he was a cop back in Norway and Brakus had obviously blabbed the fact far and wide. But the only people who could know that Thor was here on official business were the local police who had seen his credentials. Why hadn't N.C.I.S. provided him with a fake identity? She felt a stab of guilt. Thor may have nixed the idea rather than have to explain an alias to her.

When she turned down the alley toward the house, Zenia was sitting in the car and Alcina was standing over her, ranting in Greek. The engine was still throbbing like a diesel truck, but Zenia had no need for her earhorn. Alcina was bellowing. She looked up and saw Dinah and pointed an accusing finger.

Zenia cut her off. "Stop your childishness. I will send a man with new chairs this afternoon. And another cactus to protect you from the baskania, though the last one didn't work and you should see the foolishness. If your birds aren't back by the end of the day, you can be sure they have been eaten by a cat." She raised an imperious hand to Dinah. "I want you to come with me to my house."

"Sorry, but I'm waiting on a mechanic to repair my car. It was also vandalized during the night. As soon as it's drivable, I'll be off to the airport and Athens."

"What time is this mechanic coming?"

"Noon."

"Then you have time. I'll drive you back. This is important."

K.D. drifted outside, her eyes glued to her phone.

Dinah was curious about Zenia's imperative invitation. There were several questions she wanted to ask her about Brother Constantine, but she didn't like to leave K.D. in a house that had been the target of vandals, alone with the volatile wife of a possible murderer. "Can we squeeze K.D. into the front seat?"

"What?" Zenia put the earhorn to her ear.

"I don't want to leave K.D.," shouted Dinah. "What if the vandals come back?"

"Why would they? They've made their point. The young lady will wait here with Alcina until you return. Alcina, give the girl a breakfast. Whatever she wants."

Alcina twiddled with her cross and sulked.

"All right, then," said Zenia. "You, Dinah, get in."

Dinah couldn't resist. She slipped into the passenger seat and ordered K.D. to stay put. "Don't go anywhere until I get back unless trouble comes calling. Then run to the tavarna and stick close to whoever's there." She skewed her eyes from K.D. to Alcina and back to K.D. "And don't smoke. Anything at all."

"The wireless signal is lame," said K.D., holding up her phone. "Are there, like dead zones in the house?"

"What is it you want? Speak up."

"The Wi-Fi signal is weak." K.D. walked around to the side of the car and cupped her hands close to Zenia's ear. "Wi-Fi!"

"Alcina knows where the games are kept. There used to be a tavli board and maybe a checkerboard. Alcina will play with you." Zenia depressed the clutch, shifted into reverse, punched the gas pedal, and the Isotta surged backward with startling power.

Automatically, Dinah reached for the seat belt, but there wasn't one. "Some car you've got here. What year is it?"

"Nineteen thirty. It belonged to Marilita, a gift from some Italian film star."

They thudded down the rocky lane to the parking lot at a modest speed, but when they reached the curvy, asphalt road leading down the mountain, the Isotta romped forward as if it had a mind of its own. At the bottom of the hill, Zenia fumbled her foot onto the brake and they careened onto the coast road a scant foot ahead of a speeding truck.

Dinah tucked her flyaway hair behind her ears with one hand and hung onto the seat for dear life with the other. She couldn't imagine how Zenia had gotten a driver's license. "What was the point?" she shouted.

"What?"

"The vandals. What point did they make?"

"The ignorant fools think I cast the evil eye. That is how they get back at me."

Dinah covered the mati on her wrist and wondered if some of the rumors about Zenia enlarged on the facts. "Alcina blames Thor for having Yannis arrested for Fathi's murder and she thinks his Iraqi friends are trying to get back at Yannis."

"Alcina didn't want the house to be let. She resents Ramberg and she would defend that drunken husband of hers if he shot the Pope. Lucky for him, the man he killed was unimportant."

Then again, cat killing couldn't be ruled out. With Zenia, there was no point mouthing platitudes about the value of human life. "You seem pretty sure that Yannis was the murderer."

"Isn't Ramberg?"

Dinah didn't know if she'd been set up for the question, but she ignored it. "Yesterday I met a man who calls himself Brother Constantine. He hinted that something you'd done didn't go down well with the villagers. Was it the fact that you'd leased Marilita's house to a policeman?"

"The villagers are wary. They do clandestine business."

"Constantine looks as if he lives in a cave. How would he have heard about your tenant's profession?"

"He probably paid someone for the information."

"He has money?"

"I should think so. His monastery traded a worthless lake for a tract of expensive government-owned land. They sold it and netted millions of euros, which the financial authorities haven't been able to find. Constantine is in hiding until the next government comes into power and his crimes are forgotten. He has given the villagers a new hobby, searching for his buried treasure."

"If everyone knows he's here, how is he able to hide?"

She looked at Dinah as if she were thick. "He passes out little envelopes."

"Envelopes with cash inside? You mean he bribes the villagers not to tell the police where he is?"

"The police wouldn't arrest him. He gives them money, too."

She made bribery sound as natural and blameless as breathing. Dinah could just imagine what a straight arrow like Thor would make of the local mores.

Abruptly, she swerved onto a wooded side road, nearly losing control and slamming Dinah's sore hip against the door.

"Slow down, Zenia."

"What?"

"I said..." Dinah flinched as the Isotta's tires skidded on a patch of loose gravel. Zenia grappled with the steering wheel. Dinah reached for the wheel, but missed and the fishtailing motion of the car threw her into the door again. She pitched back across the seat and grabbed the wheel, torquing it hard to the left to keep the car from plummeting into a ditch. "Slow down!"

"I've driven this road thousands of times." Her tone was truculent, but she lightened her foot on the accelerator and the Isotta wallowed into the middle of the road.

They continued climbing up the twisty mountain road, a corniche scarcely wide enough for one car. As they gained elevation, the cliff walls appeared craggier and more perpendicular on this side of the gorge. Dinah looked across to the overlook that she and K.D. had tried and failed to reach. From wall to wall, the canyon floor couldn't be much more than a mile. A pair of hawks patrolled the airspace in between.

At the culmination of the Isotta's elongated bonnet, a winged hood ornament soared into the blue yonder. Nike, the goddess of speed and victory, Dinah supposed. The Greek gods seemed to have a plan for her life today and there wasn't much she could do about it. She anchored her posterior to the slippery seat as firmly as she could and wondered how much a taxi back to the village would cost.

"Where is your house? How far?"

"Near the summit. Kanaris is three kilometers as the crow flies, fifteen by road. The gorge is more useful than a moat. My husband did not care for the society of the villagers."

No kidding. If Zenia's toxic personality didn't deter visitors from dropping in for tea, nine miles over this hair-raiser of a road would do the trick.

"Do you live alone?"

"Not much choice since my sister killed my husband."

"The colonel Marilita shot was your husband?"

"That's right." She exhibited no emotion. She rolled on like an armored tank. "I have a house guest at present, someone I want you to meet. He's a film director. He and I are going to make a film together about 'The Regime of the Colonels.'"

Dinah was still coming to grips with the revelation about her husband. "Is that what the military junta was called?"

"I call it the last legitimate government of Greece." She sniffed. "Your boyfriend was asking questions about the junta last night. Foolish. The house splattered with filth and him asking about the junta."

"What did he want to know?"

"Whether there were armories on Samos."

"Were there?"

"I wouldn't know. My husband never discussed military matters with me."

Chapter Thirteen.