—Greek Proverb The autopsy report was as Patronas had expected: death from a subcranial fracture and bleeding in the brain. No indication of what had been used. The coroner rarely speculated; this time had been no exception. “I thought of something as I was driving the other day,” Evangelos Demos said as he and Patronas walked toward the car. Must have been quite an experience—driving and thinking. A wonder he didn’t kill himself. Patronas had concluded long ago that his colleague was incapable of thought. The process simply eluded him, as did the concept of cause and effect, tit for tat, many other useful things. Zippers would give Evangelos trouble. Edging closer, Evangelos Demos whispered in his ear. “It occurred to me that terrorists might be involved.” “Terrorists!” Patronas was astounded. Even for Evangelos, the idea was stupid. “Yes. Remember that terrorist group, November Seventeeth? Their leader, the mathematician, resided on Lipsi. That’s very close to Patmos.
