52
Katerina’s taverna was busy; it appeared it was a popular venue for locals and tourists alike. Katerina’s husband, Cristos, was in charge that morning, while Katerina herself could be heard in the kitchen supervising lunch. Cristos was a big man in his forties with an extensive belly and a wide smile to match. He waved Day to a table as if they were old friends. Realising he had arrived before the others, Day explained he was expecting the Curator and another friend any minute. Cristos’s smile widened still further.
“Ah, the Curator,” he grinned. “We are honoured to have you with us, Kyrie. Shall I bring you a menu?”
“Just a frappé for me, thank you.”
“With pleasure.”
Cristos left Day checking his mobile phone. It was nearly half past eleven, and still no sign of Aristos and his fr
