Gift of the Gods

By Diana Bricknell

Lou Petrakis is a man obsessed with owning ancient Grecian gold. With his friend, Kostas, he undertakes a daring jewellery heist from an Athens museum before escaping to Mykonos where a mutual friend, Miklos, advises them to trade the jewellery on Istanbul’s black market. The three men begin enjoying an idyllic existence on Mykonos – until their opulent lifestyle comes to an abrupt halt ...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tellwell Talent
• Release date: Dec 2, 2020
• ISBN: 9781922440969

Diana Bricknell

'Gift of the Gods' is Diana Bricknell's first novel. She has travelled several times to Greece and the Greek islands, as well as Istanbul. This novel was inspired by her visits to Greece and Turkey.

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This is an IndieMosh book

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Copyright 2020 © Diana Bricknell

All rights reserved

Licence Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favourite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. All rights reserved.

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Disclaimer

This story is entirely a work of fiction.

No character in this story is taken from real life. Any resemblance to any person or persons living or dead is accidental and unintentional.

The author, their agents and publishers cannot be held responsible for any claim otherwise and take no responsibility for any such coincidence.

With love and thanks to my son Peter who

encouraged me to continue and publish this book

Acknowledgements

Thank you to Denise M Taylor who assessed my manuscript and offered constructive suggestions as to how I could improve the story. I wish to thank her for her encouragement to continue writing, and for editing the manuscript for self-publication.

Many thanks to Jenny and Ally Mosher at IndieMosh for their expert and friendly advice guiding me through every step of the self-publishing process.

Prologue

Raffaella and Nikos Petrakis waited with their seven-year-old son Lou to board the bus headed for Athens’ National Archaeological Museum. Raffaella looked down at her son, Luigi was the name she’d wanted for him to honour her grandfather, but after an argument with Nikos, they’d compromised and shortened his name to Lou. She smiled as she looked at Lou who was excited in anticipation of their visit.

The mid-morning summer sun beat through the glass of the bus shelter as they waited. Soon the green bus approached and they climbed aboard. Mercifully, it was air-conditioned. Lou sat next to his mother and they chatted about the trip and what he’d see at the museum. On their way, Raffaella pointed out buildings of interest.

Upon arrival, they walked to the striped traffic crossing, then once over the street, continued through the gardens leading to the museum’s stone steps. The Ionic white columns on either side of the building seemed enormous to young Lou, who looked up and stared.

Entering, Nikos proudly took his son’s hand and led him through to the Mycenaean exhibition displaying the ancient gold artefacts. He lifted Lou up to see the gold rings, earrings and daggers, explaining where they were found. Nikos looked at his son’s elated face. Lou seemed memorised by the gold jewellery. Nikos told Lou that the treasures were part of Greece’s wonderful past, part of its proud heritage for the world to see. Lou stared, his eyes focussed on a gold dagger, the gold rings and earrings. Reluctantly, he was dragged away to see the golden mask, which Nikos explained was discovered by the German archae­ologist, Heinrich Schliemann. Nikos told Lou that there was an argument as to whether the mask was King Agamemnon’s or not. Lou was fascinated.

‘Dad, when I grow up, I’m going to have that gold.’

‘Oh no Lou, you can’t, it’s part of Greece and belongs here in the museum for all the people to see. If you steal it, then no one could see it.’

‘But Dad, you don’t understand, I will have that gold.’

‘You mean the mask?’

‘No, the gold rings, that gold dagger and the gold jewellery.’

Lou’s small face looked up at his father with a serious, determined expression. Nikos decided to ignore the outburst, believing Lou would forget the gold. He steered Lou towards the room housing the majestic bronze statue of Zeus. Nikos said that some people thought the statue was of Poseidon, god of the sea, but others believed it to be Zeus. Lou looked up in awe. The black bronze figure towered over him, clutching what appeared to be a spear, but his father told Lou it was a thunder bolt. Zeus, Nikos explained, was head of the gods, in charge at Mt Olympus. Lou craned his neck upwards to stare at the figure. It seemed gigantic to the young boy.

After a couple of rooms housing statues and pottery, Lou wanted a drink. They made their way to the café and ordered a Coke for Lou and coffee for themselves. The sun reflected brightly on the terracotta paving tiles where white statues serenely stared out to the treed courtyard. People stood in line for coffee and refresh­ments. As the inside tables were occupied, Nikos, Lou and Raffaella sat at a shaded courtyard table. Lou sipped his Coke and stared around the courtyard.

‘Dad, where are those statues from?’

‘They’re copies of different statues of Greek gods and goddesses, and people who used to live in Greece. That’s how they used to dress.’

Lou was quiet for a while and turned his head to look back at them.

‘Who made them?’

‘Different people. One of them was a man called Praxiteles. He carved different statues. Do you like them?’

‘Yes, they’re good.’

Lou looked around at the courtyard and towards the people in the café, then faced his parents.

‘I really liked the gold in that room and the very big statue of the head of the gods. What’s his name?’

‘Zeus.’

‘Mum, what did you like best?’

‘I thought the gold was lovely too, but I also liked the pottery.’

‘You mean the ones with pictures on them? What are they called?’

Nikos smiled at Lou. ‘There are two types, one is called black-figure pottery where the figures are painted in black on a red background called terracotta, and the other sort is red-figure pottery where the figures are in terracotta with black in the background.’

‘What was your favourite, Dad?’

‘Hard to pick a favourite. I like so many things.’ Nikos looked down at Lou, whose face was thoughtful as he drank the last of the Coke.

‘Shall we keep going, Lou?’

Rafaella nudged Nikos, shook her head, and whispered, ‘Best not tire him too much on the first visit. We can always come back. Come on, let’s go.’

Nikos nodded and they rose to leave the table. They walked through to the exit and made their way down the front stairs leading to the path.

‘Would you like to come again?’ Nikos asked.

‘Oh yes.’

‘Well, we certainly can come back again. I’m really glad you enjoyed it. Maybe you could be a historian when you grow up?’

‘What do they do, Dad?’

‘They study history at the university. Or even an archaeologist who travels to sites where the treasures are hidden.’

‘That sounds exciting.’

That night, Lou lay in bed too excited to sleep. He kept thinking of the beautiful colour of the gold mask, and the gold jewellery that he liked best. He made a promise to himself that night, I will own that gold.

Thirty-three years later

Athens

August

Lou Petrakis stared out to his shaded courtyard and grinned as he remembered last night’s dream. It was so vivid: he dreamt he had the gold. Normally he forgot dreams, but this was so strong. A plan formed in his mind. It would be the most ambitious, even the most dangerous one I’ve ever conceived. It was daring, even mad. It would have to involve Kostas, I couldn’t do it on my own, not with the locks and alarms.

Lou already anticipated Kostas’s reaction but he’d have to talk him around. He picked up his mobile and called Kostas, but instead heard the answering machine.

‘Yassou Kostas. Where are you? On the Apollo I suppose. Call me when you get this message.’

Lou walked to the fridge and pulled out a beer, took off the top and gulped a mouthful. He just knew Kostas would be wary. Well, I’ll have to do a job on him, just like the bank. It was around eight that night when Kostas called back.

‘Lou, you were right, I was on Apollo. Thought I’d fit in a sail before dark.’

‘Sounds ideal. Hey, last night I had this amazing dream. You know how I’ve always loved Mycenaean gold?’

‘How could I forget that?’ laughed Kostas.

‘Well, don’t laugh, but I’ve got a fantastic idea. Let’s steal the gold signet rings and other bits of gold jewellery from the National Archaeological Museum. You know, the ones in the Mycenaean rooms? They won’t know the difference ’til it’s too late and I’ve got excellent fake copies. So, what about it?’

Lou could hear Kostas suck in his breath. He could visualise Kostas’s wrinkled brow. He wished Kostas would just plunge in, but he was always so cautious. Kostas liked to believe his was the voice of reason, a counter-balance to Lou’s impulsiveness. Lou was annoyed how Kostas always took the moral high ground.

‘Look Lou, I don’t like it. It’s way too dangerous. Suicidal even. It’s Athens’ main archaeological museum for God’s sake. Are you mad?’

‘I know … but think, we’ll be rich’.

‘Is anyone listening?’

‘Nuh, I’m inside and anyway, everyone’s away.’

‘Look Lou, the security’s really tight there. How do think we’re going to crack that? Forget it.’

‘Oh, come on Kostas, don’t be so paranoid. You remember the bank job? That was successful, so will this be, I just know it. Yeah, it’ll be dangerous, but really exciting. Anyway, the security could be less of a problem, with less staff. Just think, we won’t have to work again. You could renovate the Apollo and even take charters around the Cyclades. You’ve always wanted that. In fact, you could afford a whole fleet with what we’re going to make. I’ve got a friend, Dimitri, in Moscow. He can sell them on the Russian Black Market. Don’t worry, we can do it!’

Kostas smiled. Lou always exaggerated when he wanted something badly enough. He could be very persuasive and charismatic. He could just see Lou’s face beaming. His voice was enough to know how unstoppable he could be.

‘Lou, that bank job was almost ten years ago and we were lucky not to get caught then. This is very different – much more dangerous. Let me think about it, huh? I’d like to sleep on the idea.’

‘Okay but let’s meet at Niko’s tomorrow night for dinner. Can you be there about eight thirty?’

‘Why the Plaka?’

‘It’ll be full of tourists, few Greeks. No eavesdropping.’

Kostas sighed. ‘Okay, we’ll meet there, but I don’t like it.’

Kostas put down the phone and shook his head. He decided he could hear Lou out then refuse. Anyway, he thought, how did Lou think they’d pull this off? It was crazy, but he wasn’t surprised. Ever since they’d been friends, Lou had obsessed about owning Mycenaean gold. Kostas frowned as he made mental calculations of the alarm system. He’d have to revise his knowledge and check the exhibit locations.

A thought came into his head, maybe he could locate that wiring map, if it was still there, perhaps in a drawer? He decided to look it up that night. But why was he even considering it? Lou’s new idea was out of the question, he’d have to refuse tomorrow.

Kostas looked out to his wilting garden and shook his head. He wondered whether the gold would be worth as much as Lou said? He stared out of the window focussing on a tired looking red geranium They’d be finished if they were caught – at least ten years in jail, and even if they got away with it, they’d have to be outcasts from Athens for years. He didn’t know why Lou would think it was possible, his idea was crazy. This time he’d really gone too far.

*****

Lou hung up. He knew he’d have to talk Kostas around, he was definitely not going to give up on this idea. After finishing his beer, he collected the coffee cup and plate and put them in the sink and the bottle in the bin. He grimaced at the dirty dishes piled in the sink. How I miss Katerina. How she does this for a living I don’t know.

Leaving the kitchen, he walked into the white tiled bathroom, dropped his clothes on the floor, then stepped into the shower and felt relief as the tepid water washed over his sweaty body. He poured a small amount of shampoo into the palm of his hands and washed his thick wavy black hair. He lifted his face up to rinse off the shampoo and let the water run over his face, standing for a couple of minutes under the shower before stepping out to grab a thick white towel. After he dried off, he looked in the mirror to study his face.

Lou shaved then patted on moisturiser, finishing off with his favourite Italian aftershave, AquaVita. He combed his wet hair and styled it before leaning in closer to the mirror and smiling at his tanned reflection. Then he turned sideways and frowned, he’d stacked on a bit of weight lately, but considered he didn’t look too bad. At 40 he was still okay, he could still pull in the girls.

Swooping to pick up his clothes, he walked into the white bedroom and threw them onto the white queen-size bedspread. He peered into the wardrobe and reached for his navy jeans and a short-sleeved cream polo shirt. He then picked up his loafers and grabbed his gold Rolex watch, wallet and keys. He looked over to the kitchen sink; and thought he really should wash the plates but didn’t feel like it so he walked out and locked the villa door.

The walk to the local taverna was pleasant, a light breeze had sprung up. On arrival he smiled at the manager who ushered him to a courtyard table. There he lit a cigarette and blew a column of pale-blue smoke into the warm air. He perused the menu and settled for tomato and garlic calamari accompanied by a glass of Pinot Grigio. The waiter appeared a couple of minutes later with the wine. While he waited for the main course, he sipped the wine and thought of the best strategy to persuade Kostas tomorrow night. He knew he couldn’t push him too fast; little by little usually worked, at least it had with that bank job ten years ago. Lou had always known that Kostas operated by weighing up the pros and cons before he conceded.

The waiter appeared with the calamari and placed the plate in front of him. He took a mouthful – it was perfection. After the meal, while waiting for coffee, he lit another cigarette and exhaled a column of smoke into the air, further contemplating his plan, he knew that Kostas always dreamt of owning a yacht-chartering business around the Cyclades. I could push that idea, it was Kostas’s Achilles’ Heel.

Lou paid the bill then walked back to his villa. Inside, he turned on the TV and sank into his black leather sofa to watch the soccer. It was half way through and Brazil was defeating Italy, 2.0. He watched the game until the end, Brazil won by one goal.

Lou lay on his bed and continued to read a James Patterson spy novel. After switching off the bedroom light, he contemplated tomorrow night’s strategy.

*****

The following day was another scorcher, so he spent most of it inside, reading and perfecting his plan of action He knew he mustn’t misfire or become impatient – that wasn’t the way to win Kostas over. But he did have to cave in. It was the approach that had to be perfected.

Lou checked his Rolex. He had an hour before he left. He performed his usual pre-dinner ritual of showering and washing his hair, then shaving and splashing on his favourite aftershave before combing his hair and dabbing moisturiser on his face. He chose a pair of black cotton pants, a white cotton short-sleeved shirt, black belt and shoes. Picking up his gold chain and watch, he checked his image in the mirror and combed his hair again. He was ready. Walking past the bedside table he picked up his keys and wallet and locked the villa. Stepping into his silver Lexus, he started the slow drive towards the Plaka area.

Although he’d allowed enough time, the traffic was getting on his nerves. In front of him was a line of taxis and a bus belching smoke. Even though the crowd was languidly walking in what little shade they could find, they seemed to be going faster than him. He turned up the air-conditioning to high and slipped in his favourite Theodorakis CD. Would Kostas say yes? He’ll have to! I’ll make him.

Eventually Lou was lucky to find a vacant car space a couple of blocks from Parthenonos Street. He locked the car and walked up Parthenonos towards the Divani Palace Acropolis hotel. A large Trafalgar tourist bus stood outside waiting to collect passengers for a night on the town. Through the Divani’s plate glass doors he looked into the cream, marble-tiled reception lobby lit by large elaborate chandeliers. The whole volume was bathed in a pale golden glow. A group of people stood at the reception desk seeking advice, their suitcases at their feet. He exchanged greetings with a navy-suited concierge on the footpath guiding a group towards their bus. Lou walked past the hotel’s double-glazed doors with its large brass handles and began his uphill walk towards the Plaka area.

A couple of buildings past the hotel to his left stood a deserted old timber house surrounded by shrubs and vines, which threatened to engulf its roof. In the grassed backyard several old papers completed the look of desolation. Lou stopped to stare; it looked out of place so close to the plush hotel in the heart of the tourist area. A three-minute stroll took him to a rise of stone steps leading up to the pedestrian avenue, Dionysiou Areopagitou. He turned right.

The smell of honeysuckle floated seductively on the warm evening air as he leisurely strolled down the wide avenue. A group of stray dogs sniffed at his heels then walked to the opposite fence, sniffing scents. Lou watched several couples walk past hand-in-hand, excluding the world in their rapt intimacy. He nodded to them and smiled to himself as he remembered those first happy years of marriage with Effie. He wondered what she was doing on a night like this? He hoped she was happy wherever she lived. Perhaps we married too early, he pondered? The only thing he regretted was not having a son. Maybe we’d be together now if we’d had a boy. He sighed – it was a long time ago. A family group was slowly walking towards him, the small boy intent on licking an icy pole; that was me thirty-three years ago.

To his right, sharing top real estate in the area, stood a row of smart new villas overlooking the gardens adjacent to the paved avenue, their position affording a splendid view of the Parthenon. Lou stopped and raised his eyes above the park to catch a glimpse of the Parthenon, now lit like a giant golden beacon overseeing the city spread out below. He knew his new venture meant leaving his beloved Athens. That was his main regret, he knew he’d really miss Athens badly. As he strolled, he tried to remember the last time he’d spent time away from Athens for longer than a month, but he knew he couldn’t be too sentimental – he had to stay strong. It’ll be worth it, I’ll remain positive. I can’t let Kostas sense anxiety. I will do this.

Lou walked past the Acropolis Museum to his right, lit up with a golden light. It was a smart addition to the area with its elegant façade and modern rectangular lines. He then turned left and walked down several streets into the Plaka until he reached Niko’s taverna. When he arrived, there was one vacant table nearest the