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looked around again at the mess. ‘All his disks are gone, too. He loved his laptop. It was his pride and joy. We presented it to him last year as a gift in honor of his fortieth year with us.’
    ‘Are you sure no one else but you had access to your seal?’
    ‘Positive. It is from this ring.’ He thrust out his right hand. ‘And it never leaves my finger.’
    Andreas nodded. ‘I was afraid you’d say that. Otherwise it would be all too simple.’
    ‘I don’t understand.’
    ‘Since no one could have entered after you sealed the room, someone had to get in before you arrived. No waythey got in through that window.’ Andreas pointed. ‘It’s still locked shut and must be forty feet from the ground. Unless this is one of the great coincidences of all time, where a man’s room is ransacked and his life taken in the same night in unrelated incidents, I’d say if we find who did this we find who murdered him.’ Andreas paused. ‘Unless, of course, you or one of his fellow monks did this after learning he was dead and before you sealed it.’
    ‘I was the first to learn of his death. And the room was sealed within minutes after that. As for my being the likely computer thief, Vassilis used a PC. I’m a Mac man.’ The abbot smiled.
    Andreas nodded with a grin. ‘Fair enough. That leaves us with whoever killed him doing this either before the murder or in the thirty to sixty minutes between the time of death and when you sealed the room.’
    ‘What sort of person would murder and rob a man of God, then come into his room and steal yet more from him? Heaven help us.’
    Andreas didn’t give the answer he was thinking: someone willing to take one hell of a risk - like a professional killer not finding what was wanted on the victim, or making damn sure no one else found anything. ‘Any chance of computer backup for what was taken?’
    ‘We have a very elaborate backup system here, what with all the information we must protect in our library, but the work Vassilis did on his laptop he considered personal and much of it never made it onto our system.’
    ‘What do you mean by “personal?”’
    The abbot smiled, as if reminiscing. ‘Vassilis didn’t likethe idea of his every thought becoming part of what he called the “information universe” before giving serious reflection to whether what he offered would help or hurt the purpose for which he lived. He worked offline from our network on those sorts of things until he had something he thought worthy to share.’
    Nothing’s easy, thought Andreas. ‘Can you get me what you have of his on your backup?’
    ‘Certainly.’
    Andreas bent down and picked up a plastic wrapper with three ten-by-twelve manila envelopes inside. They were unused. He looked around and picked up six more, all unused. ‘Where’s the tenth?’
    ‘Pardon?’
    ‘The packaging says “ten envelopes,” but I only see nine, and they’re unused.’
    The two men scoured the room but found nothing.
    ‘Come to think of it, I remember passing Vassilis on his way back to the monastery yesterday afternoon. He was carrying a plastic shopping bag. The envelopes may have been in it.’
    ‘Do you remember a name on the bag?’
    ‘No, but he would have purchased them at Biblio, a shop just off the town square …’ The abbot’s words faded off at the mention of the square.
    ‘Thanks. I think I’ll give my partner a hand with the interviews.’ Andreas paused. ‘I’m sincere about the thanks. I know this must be very tough for you.’
    The abbot nodded. ‘You have no idea how much Vassilis meant to this monastery. Not only was he a true man ofGod, he was a mentor to us all. He wanted nothing of higher rank, yet there was no one above him in the Church of Greece who did not treasure his judgment as if he were a peer. He was their genuine friend and a trusted, respected confidant.’
    Andreas caught a glint of something in the abbot’s eyes, as if his words had triggered a thought. But