Wrath of Poseidon (Fargo Adventures 12)

A moment later, he heard a click, then Rube saying, “Sergeant Petros Kompouras, Sam Fargo.”

“Mr. Fargo,” the sergeant said. “I won’t take up much of your time. I was hoping you might tell me anything about the warehouse on the island. What was in it? Anything unusual?”

“Besides the C-4 and detonators? The one you need to talk to is Dimitris. He overheard a conversation about one of the shipments being intended for the Heiberts. That would be the pallet that blew up.”

“One of our investigators spoke with him. But, considering your background, I was more interested in your viewpoint.”

“Other than an overabundance of security, and automatic weapons that seemed overkill for olive oil production, I’m not sure what I can add. I did see a lot of empty olive oil tins, and boxes of glass vials, which, now that I think about it, seems odd. I understand the Kyrils are involved in drug running?”

“Suspected,” the sergeant said. “Are you familiar with the history of Minerva Lines and the late Bruno von Till?”

“A very brief history,” he said, recalling the little that Rube had told him.

“Through a now-defunct shipping company called Minerva Lines, von Till ran one of the largest drug trafficking operations, not only in the Mediterranean, but worldwide. Recent information coming through some fairly reliable sources is that Heibert Lines may involve some of the same players. We just weren’t sure who or how. When Adrian Kyril’s name came up along with their business in olive oil production, it made sense. Private island, no oversight. We’re just not sure how they’re smuggling it out—or where they’re hiding it.”

“You’d think they’d have more sense than to store their contraband on their own island.”

“Agreed. Unfortunately, our one successful attempt at getting a look at one of their shipments ended with the death of a couple of our officers from an explosion. It was much like the truck explosion that Dimitris described. Any idea of what was on that pallet?”

“I think it was empty olive oil tins. Dimitris actually went back for one that looked intact. Nothing in it.”

“Why would they blow up empty tins?”

“My gut instinct? They set up the whole thing to lure Dimitris to the truck. Had they been the least bit proficient in placing the explosive, they might have succeeded in killing him.”

“Well, good job taking it out,” the sergeant said. “In the meantime, we’re gathering information on Adrian Kyril’s role. He may be in custody, but there are still a lot of unanswered questions, motive being one of them. I’m not sure a murder charge is going to stick.”

“Take this with a grain of salt,” Sam said, looking up, seeing Zoe walking toward the beach house. “I don’t know what, if any, investigative value this has, but we heard that Tassos was looking for a treasure called Poseidon’s Trident. What or where that might be, I have no idea. But it’s presumably why he was up at that cave that morning.”

“I hadn’t heard that. I’ll add it to the file. Should you run across any more information that will help in our investigation, we would appreciate anything you can pass our way.”

“Of course. I’ll let you know immediately.”

“And, Rube,” Sergeant Kompouras added, “thanks for putting me in touch.”

“No problem.” There was a click, a second of silence, then Rube saying, “Now you know what I know.”

“Which isn’t much,” Sam replied.

“I expect we’ll know a lot more by the time this is all done. By the way, how’s Remi doing?”

“I’m hoping better.” He moved to the edge of the roof, looking down at Zoe as she entered the gate and walked to the front door beneath him. “This news should help ease her mind. Had the police not required us to stay for their investigation into the Kyrils’ olive grove shooting, she’d have been gone by now.”

“Let’s hope I can help speed things up on this end and get you two out of there sooner rather than later. Keep me informed if anything else comes up.”

“I will.”

Sam disconnected, then went down the stairs. When he stepped in the door, all three women looked up in surprise.

“Something happened,” Remi said. “What is it?”

“Adrian Kyril’s been arrested. I just got off the phone with Rube.”

Remi sank back in her chair. “Thank goodness.”

Denéa reached over, grasping Zoe’s hand. Zoe, in turn, said, “That must be why the police chief wants to talk to me. He wants me to stop by this afternoon.”

“Could be,” Sam said. “I expect there’s a long way to go before they finish their investigation.” He glanced at Remi to see how she was taking the news. Though her eyes were red from crying, he had to admit that she seemed . . . calmer.