In the Greek fishing hamlet of Nidri, the villagers waited in a light rain. Soon the mourners would arrive to ferry across to Aristotle Onassis' private Ionian island of Skorpids and witness the simple rites he had requested and bury him under a cypress tree near his only son Alexander. At last the motor cortege pulled up, and when the American woman in a black leather coat appeared, a murmur ran through the watchers. "A widow for the second time," whispered one old woman in a black shawl. A Mona Lisa smile crept briefly across Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis' face,...
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