Free Devil of Delphi: A Chief Inspector Andreas Kaldis Mystery by Jeffrey Siger Page B

them as fifteen-hundred-euro bottles of Lafitte to palates not used to the difference.
    The two identical bottles Theo had shown him in their Skype call—one real, one phony—were an example of how modern technology, designed to aid an industry, had actually made it easier for counterfeiters. Widely available better printing, bottling, and packaging techniques made it so almost anyone could create first-rate copies virtually identical to the originals, and the Coravin syringe system allowed wine to be removed from a bottle without destroying what remained, making it possible to extract from a single bottle of a great vintage just enough to mask any number of bottles of counterfeit with a touch of the real.
    Maybe somewhere in all this I’ll find the name of someone to talk to , Andreas hoped—a cop or prosecutor who’d successfully brought down a major counterfeiter.
    But there wasn’t much reported on that score, and nothing helpful. Most of the mainstream media attention focused on the independent efforts of an American billionaire wine collector, fed up at being defrauded by counterfeiters, who decided to take matters into his own hands.
    The collector estimated he’d spent four and a half million dollars on four hundred twenty-one bottles of counterfeit wine—out of his total collection of over forty thousand bottles—and another twenty-five million dollars on lawsuits going after his swindlers. One defrauder, called the “Bernie Madoff of the wine world,” received a ten-year sentence for fraud tied to his selling thirty-five million dollars’ worth of bogus wine at auction. Another of the industrialist’s targets, described as a “super counterfeiter,” allegedly sold him four bottles of a bogus Chateau Lafite 1787 purportedly purchased by U.S. president Thomas Jefferson in 1790 for four hundred thousand dollars. The American continued to pursue that seller, but he’d given up on collecting wines, saying he’d tired of being swindled by con artists and crooks.
    Andreas did find some news stories about various governments’ efforts at controlling the counterfeit wines and spirits markets, but in many places—notably China, Turkey, Russia, Eastern Europe, and Southeast Asia—enforcement seemed driven more by deaths brought on by consuming alcohol adulterated with poisons than any serious desire on the part of authorities to go after the counterfeit alcohol industry.
    Andreas shook his head and mumbled aloud. “It’s the same everywhere. Unless you’re stupid enough to piss off the super-rich or powerful, or do something that gets someone killed, this sort of thing simply isn’t a police priority.”
    Andreas pushed back from the screen and swung his chair around to stare out the window. Counterfeit booze offered extraordinary profits with low risk of prosecution. The perfect business for attracting organized crime. No surprise there. But once his unit got an angle on who’s behind it all, there would be surprises. Of that he was certain. With something this big he had no doubt there’d be big-time political protectors involved.
    Andreas bit at his lower lip. This is going to get interesting .
    ***
    “If I might offer a suggestion, it would set a far more civilized tone for our conversation if you pointed your shotgun away from my chest. Besides, I can assure you I’d find it most unpleasant if our brief time together were cut even shorter by reason of one of your country’s notorious roadway potholes.”
    Kharon didn’t move. He studied the woman’s face. As far as he could tell she wore no makeup and he guessed her to be around twice his age. “I have every confidence in your car’s suspension system.”
    “Very well.” She brushed another strand of hair away from her sunglasses. “I’ve heard very impressive things about you. From the performance I witnessed back there, and continue witnessing here, I must agree.”
    “I don’t advertise.”
    She smiled. “There is no way someone