Their operatives get tied up in red tape and the corporate hierarchy and are too scared to stick out their necks.”

An oak-paneled door opened softly on well-oiled hinges. A man in a conservative business suit stood in the doorway. He had salt-and-pepper hair, well-bred features, and sharp blue eyes that matched his expensive and obviously tailored suit.

“Mr. Muller, perhaps you would prefer to insult my organization personally rather than speaking into the mic?”

“Flower arrangement or crystal chandelier?” Heinrich asked.

Montaine allowed a ghost of a smile. “Neither. Come.”

Heinrich didn’t like the fact that the words came out as an order. Still, the chick was walking over to Montaine, and her ass was nice enough for him to follow.

The executive led them through a hushed, richly appointed office and past several closed doors to a small meeting room. Heinrich settled into a high-backed leather chair as an astonishingly beautiful executive assistant offered him coffee.

“Thanks, babe. I take it black, but after what I said about Mr. Montaine’s business here, he probably spat in it.”

Thalia gave him a curious stare. “Are you always like this?”

“He is,” Montaine said, holding his hands behind his back and standing at the head of the table like a schoolmaster in some high-end British boarding school. “He’s infamous in the business for his crudeness and lack of respect for others, but he yields some remarkable results.”

Heinrich nodded. “I always get my man, or woman, or gender-fluid freak show.”

“He’s the detective who found that World War Two Nazi train in Poland,” Montaine said.

Thalia’s eyes lit up. “I read about that. Fascinating!”

Heinrich gave her his winning smile. “It didn’t take much. Just some good detective work, infiltrating a neo-Nazi group, and shooting a few goose steppers.”

Thalia rolled her eyes. “Modest, I see.”

“It ain’t bragging if you can do it,” Heinrich replied.

Montaine cleared his throat. “Modesty wouldn’t be a bad trait to acquire, Mr. Muller. But that is beside the point. The man you chased yesterday is part of a Greek antiquities gang. We suspect some of their enforcers are former Greek military.”

“That would explain why I didn’t kick his ass in the first five seconds,” Heinrich said.

Montaine continued as if he hadn’t heard. “They bribe employees in regional museums and excavations, or sometimes conduct night-time digs themselves in promising areas. With the current economic situation in Greece, it’s easy for them to get away with this. There’s always someone with a personal financial crisis who can be corrupted, and law enforcement doesn’t have the means to police every archaeological site. Sadly, this isn’t the first murder at their hands. They also killed a dig director near Delphi who came across them looting his site, and a local police detective in Thessaloniki who came too close to uncovering their shipping operation.”

“Where do I come in?”

“You are the only person who saw the killer’s face.”

“CCTV?”

Montaine shook his head in disgust and started pacing at the front of the room. “It wasn’t working on that floor. No, it hadn’t been interfered with, it simply was offline.