Kempston Hardwick Mysteries — Box Set, Books 1-3

by Adam Croft

  ‘Yes, I am sorry,’ Spiros said. ‘And this is now a murder investigation. Because the police force on Friktos is quite small, and because we do not speak good English,’ he said in perfect English, ‘we have authorised these two gentleman from England, who are both—‘

  ‘Detectives,’ Hardwick butted in before Spiros could say police officers. Even when — in legal terms — covering up a murder and desecrating the evidence in order to do a failing businessman a favour, Hardwick was still unable to be anything other than honest, even if it meant being honest in his own inimitable way.

  ‘Yes. These gentlemen will speak to you all and ask what you remember from last night. Anything you can remember will help to find the killer of Miss Alexander. The information they receive,’ Spiros lied, ‘will be passed to our detectives in order to try to find out what happened.’

  ‘And what are we meant to do?’ Nick Roder asked, already cradling a pint of lager. ‘Just sit around and wait? Go home? Get on with our holiday?’

  ‘I ask only that you co-operate with the Detectives Hardwick and Flint and help them as they see fit. Unless you are suspected of a crime and arrested for it, we cannot keep you on the island or in the country. But thankfully the European Union means that we can also pursue suspects if they decide to go home. In the meantime, if you do not have a guilty conscience you can do as you please.’

  Nick Roder took a large gulp of lager.

  ‘So. Does anybody have any questions?’ Spiros asked.

  ‘I do,’ Nick said. ‘Can I buy you a drink?’

  17

  It occurred to Hardwick that he needed to be certain of who was in the apartment complex the previous evening and overnight. His first port of call was to visit the reception desk to see if any unknown visitors had been noticed.

  The hotel owner’s daughter, Maria, was as helpful as her demeanour allowed, and she explained to Hardwick and Flint that they had a number of security measures in place which would have made it almost impossible for a stranger to enter the complex.

  ‘Nobody can enter a room which is not theirs,’ she said, matter-of-factly. ‘The doors do not open from the outside without a key, and there is only one key per room. The keys are kept here at the reception desk — that is our policy — so they are not lost outside. If someone is outside of the hotel and comes in, they must come here to collect their key first.’

  Hardwick pursed his lips. That made two things impossible — that the killer had used his or her own key to go into the apartment that Jennifer was in, either before or after she got there herself. It left only one possibility — the one that made no sense — that she willingly opened the door and let her killer in.

  ‘Also there is only one way in from outside the hotel complex, and that is the main entrance here,’ Maria added. ‘There is a security camera on this entrance at all times.’

  ‘Does it record?’ Hardwick asked.

  ‘Yes, of course,’ was the reply. ‘My father has the recordings in his office.’

  ***

  17

  Hardwick certainly wouldn’t have called the room an office; it was far too disorganised and messy for his liking. Tidy house, tidy mind was the maxim he followed. Now, as Stavros Giannakopoulos ran through the CCTV camera footage on his computer, Hardwick was struggling to maintain proper focus.

  ‘So you see camera on entrance to complex here. We can see who is in or out at the time.’

  ‘Is that the only way in or out of the complex?’ Ellis Flint asked.

  ‘Absolutely, yes. No other way.’

  ‘And nobody else came in at all during the night?’

  ‘No. On reception also we ask guests to deposit keys when they leave complex, for security. It is also for risk of fire, so we know at all times who is in hotel.’

  ‘Right. So the only people in the complex, and therefore the only possible killers, are James Garfield, Darryl Potts, Alicia French, Nick Roder, Paul Erenson, Ryan Farley, Hayley Saunders, Emma Benson and Arjun Beqiri. Oh, and… well, myself, Kempston and yourself.’

  ‘Yes. And also my daughter Maria, who works on reception desk.’

  ‘Thirteen suspects,’ Ellis said, glancing over at Hardwick, who seemed to be oblivious to the numerical significance.

  ‘Are there any more CCTV cameras, Mr Giannakopoulos?’ Hardwick asked, his eyes glazing over slightly.

  ‘No,’ came the reply after a short pause.

  ‘So why does your software say “Camera 1 of 2”?’ Hardwick asked, pointing casually to the text in the bottom right-hand corner of the computer screen.

  ‘Ah. Yes,’ came Stavros’s reply as he sheepishly moused down on the “Next camera” button. The screen changed to show a different camera with a different view.

  ‘It’s pointed at the sun loungers, Mr Giannakopoulos,’ Hardwick said with no emotion in his voice.

  ‘Yes. Is for security.’

  ‘Against what possible misdemeanours, might I ask? Unsuitable iPod covers? Over-application of sun-tan lotion? Or could it possibly be that it’s the area that scantily-clad female holidaymakers tend to spend large portions of the day?’

  The embarrassed owner said nothing.

  ‘Fortunately enough,’ Hardwick continued, ‘that might just help us quite a bit more than you might think. I presume the camera switches to infrared at nighttime?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘So you could see the sun-loungers on this camera quite clearly throughout the night?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Right. Could you skip the footage to twelve-thirty this morning, please?’

  Stavros did as he was told and the footage began to play, showing nothing but empty sun loungers for a couple of minutes. Before long, the distinctive figures of Hardwick and James Garfield entered the shot, with James lying down on the sun lounger in a foetal position, Hardwick appearing to wish him a good night. Seconds later, Hardwick left the shot in the direction of the apartment block.

  ‘Can you forward it on at a faster speed?’ Hardwick asked Stavros.

  As the time sped up, the trio watched James on the sun lounger, completely still except for the occasional toss or turn. As the light began to rise, the camera switched from infrared to daytime mode and Arjun entered the shot with his pool net as Stavros returned the footage to normal speed.

  ‘So James Garfield stayed on the sun lounger all night.’

  ‘Yep. And he was still there by the time I’d found Jennifer dead,’ Ellis said as the footage clearly began to show Hardwick being approached by Ellis early that morning. ‘Which rules him out, then, as the apartment door was locked when he went to sleep and only open again when he woke up. On the sun lounger, where he’d been all night.’

  ‘Indeed,’ Hardwick said. ‘Just one last thing for now, Mr Giannakopoulos. Where do you keep your accounting records?’

  ‘Accounting? I hate it. All paperwork goes from reception to my accountant in the main town. He takes care of everything.’

  Satisfied, Hardwick led Ellis Flint from Stavros Giannakopoulous’s office and they headed in the direction of the pool bar.

  ‘What have the accounts got to do with anything, Hardwick?’ Ellis asked innocently.

  ‘Last night when he left the pool bar he said he was going to his office to do some accounting work. But he just told us he doesn’t do his own accounts. All he has in his office is a computer for monitoring his CCTV footage. Of the main entrance. And the sun loungers.’

  ‘So when he came back to his office last night to do his accounts…’

  ‘Let’s leave it there, shall we, Ellis? It doesn’t bear thinking about. I’ve just had my breakfast.’

  18

  Fortunately, Arjun had deemed that a brutal murder was just about cause enough to not have dance music pumping out through the speakers and cocktails lined up on the bar. Instead, he was in his second of two very different modes — his go-slow mode, which consisted of reclining back on his stool and playing on his mobile phone.

>   James was sat at a table by the pool bar, his elbow on the table and his head resting on his hand, staring into the middle distance when Hardwick and Flint arrived. His eyes looked red raw, his face a picture of disbelief at what had happened.

  ‘James, is it all right if we ask you a few questions?’ Ellis said, getting in early before Hardwick could say something insensitive. ‘Kempston and I are detectives — of sorts — and the hotel manager has asked us to look into what happened to Jennifer.’

  ‘Uh… yes, fine,’ James replied, seemingly in another world entirely, struggling to comprehend what had happened. ‘Shouldn’t the tourism police be doing this, though? I thought they were there to help tourists. I’m still not quite sure I understand ’

  ‘They’re… on strike,’ Ellis replied, thinking far more quickly than he should have been, considering his raging hangover.

  ‘Yes, and they don’t tend to deal with murders,’ Hardwick added, truthfully. ‘More commercial disputes.’

  ‘Oh. I just… I just can’t believe it. She was fine earlier in the evening. Well, I mean, she wasn’t fine, but at least she wasn’t…’

  ‘Yes. I know,’ Hardwick replied. ‘And I’m sorry to remind you of it, but we really do need to get everything straight. I know a lot happened and it can be difficult to remember, but you really do need to try to be as accurate as possible, so that we can get all of the information together and find out what happened to your fiancée. At what time did you leave the bar?’

  ‘Um, around a quarter to eleven, I think.’

  ‘Can you be a little more specific?’ Hardwick asked.

  ‘Not really. You were there too. I wasn’t really watching the clock. I think Jennifer went back to the room at about half ten, and I probably stayed at the bar for another ten or fifteen minutes or so after that.’

  ‘And what happened when you got back to the apartment?’

  ‘The door was locked. The reception only gives you one key when you check in, and Jennifer had that one. I banged on the door for her to let me in, but she just shouted back at me and said she wasn’t going to. Something about having been embarrassed and shown up in front of everyone. There was clearly no reasoning with her. There never is when she’s in that sort of mood. So I came back to the bar.’

  ‘Did anyone see you while you were outside the apartment?’

  ‘Um… Yeah, Darryl did, actually. He came out of his apartment to see what all the noise was about.’

  ‘And then he went back into his own apartment?’

  ‘Yeah. After he stood and watched me walk all the way back to the bar. Bloke’s got a screw loose.’

  ‘So if we ask him, he’d tell us the same thing? That the door was locked, Jennifer didn’t let you in and he watched you all the way back to the bar?’

  ‘Well, I’d bloody hope so. Only problem is, I can’t stand him and he isn’t exactly my biggest fan either, so I wouldn’t put it past him to try and stitch me up.’

  Hardwick thought for a few moments before asking another question.

  ‘Did you have life insurance out on your fiancée at all?’ he asked.

  Very tactful, Ellis thought. James’s face seemed to show much the same thought.

  ‘No. No, I didn’t. We would’ve needed it had we bought a house, but we were just renting until we’d got the wedding out of the way.’

  ‘And how long had you lived together for?’ Hardwick followed up.

  ‘Just under a year. So no, common-law rules don’t kick in either. I’m entitled to nothing out of her death. I benefit in absolutely no way at all. Happy now?’

  19

  Darryl Potts seemed visibly shocked when he was told the news about Jennifer. He was still in his apartment, tending to the unwell Alicia when they’d knocked on the door of apartment 2. Fortunately, Alicia seemed to be looking a little bit brighter and Darryl was happy to join Hardwick and Flint at a table near the bar.

  Hardwick had asked him, too, what his version of events was for the previous evening.

  ‘It was about ten o’clock, I think, Alicia said she wasn’t feeling great so I escorted her back to the room. I wanted to make sure she was asleep and not going to be ill, because I thought it might just be a bit of sunstroke and too much to drink. So I sat and read some of my book for about half an hour or so, just to make sure she was all right before I thought about maybe heading back to the bar. Next thing I know, I can hear James banging on his door — they’re in the apartment next to us — and I can hear him and Jennifer arguing about something. He was asking her to let him in, but she wouldn’t. I went out to see what all the fuss was about, and I asked her to let me in, but she wouldn’t do that either. She said she didn’t want to see anyone until the morning. So James went back to the bar and I went back into my apartment.’

  ‘Did you see him go all the way back to the bar?’ Hardwick asked.

  ‘Oh yes, I made sure of it. Watched him the whole way. I didn’t want him coming back and upsetting Jennifer any more. It was best for everyone that she just slept it off and woke up in the morning as if nothing ever happened. Like she always did.’

  ‘And Alicia can vouch for all of this?’ Ellis asked.

  ‘Yeah, the banging woke her up. She didn’t get back to sleep properly again after that, either, so she can vouch for the fact that I was in bed all night from then.’

  ‘She was awake all night?’ Hardwick asked.

  ‘Yeah. She was in quite a lot of pain, had a migraine and felt really unwell. I think she’s OK now, just sleeping it off. I was awake most of the night as well, as I couldn’t sleep knowing she was in pain. Hence being in bed so late this morning.’

  ‘And did you hear anything else after James went back to the bar?’

  ‘No, not really. That’s the amazing thing. You’d think if someone was strangled to death in the room next to you, you’d hear something, wouldn’t you?’

  ‘I should imagine so. And surely you would have heard if someone had knocked on the door, too?’

  ‘Ah, well that depends. I heard James banging on the door earlier in the night because it was so quiet and he was banging so loudly. Later on I watched a bit of TV, so that might have scuppered things a bit in terms of hearing things. And someone going to commit murder probably wouldn’t knock as loudly as James did.’

  ‘I see,’ Hardwick said. ‘On the subject of James Garfield, would it be fair to say that you and he don’t exactly see eye to eye on a lot of things?’

  ‘In a word, yes.’ Darryl said, his face dropping. ‘I can’t stand the bloke.’

  ‘Any particular reason why?’

  ‘Many. Mainly he just doesn’t like me, and kind of rubs me up the wrong way because of that. He’s always making snide comments and we just don’t get on. Simple as that.’

  ‘And Jennifer? Did you get on with her?’

  ‘Yeah, I did. I think I was one of the only people who did, apart from Alicia,’ Darryl said, with a slight chuckle.

  ‘So do you think there’s any chance James Garfield could have killed his fiancée?’

  ‘James? Christ, no. I mean, they bickered like any couple but that’s just how they were. Jennifer was a vamp and James is just quiet and mouse-like. That’s probably part of the reason we don’t get on. I’m far more confident and outgoing, and he probably just thinks I’m loud and brash or something. Personally, I find him boring. Not a bloody murderer, though. As much as I don’t particularly like him, even I’d draw the line there.’

  Hardwick nodded and logged this all in his memory whilst Ellis Flint scribbled furiously in his notebook, not able to rely on a colossal memory as Hardwick was.

  ‘As much as I’d love to see James banged up in some Greek prison cell, I’m not going to lie — I’m certain he couldn’t have done it.’

  20

  Nick Roder had a rather casual demeanour — one which tended to rile Hardwick in situations such as this, in which someone had died. He seemed to have more to say about his sexual conquests with
Hayley Saunders than he did about the fact that someone’s life had been violently taken from them.

  Before they’d got down to the business of constructing the night’s events with him, Nick had been far more concerned as to whether he was going to get to eat at some point. Arjun had very delicately tried to explain that there would be no food available for the foreseeable future because the cold store was unfortunately out of action, being temporarily used for other purposes. Nick wasn’t particularly happy about this, but didn’t ask for an elaboration. That was pretty fortunate, Hardwick thought, as the cold store was being temporarily used for the purpose of storing Jennifer Alexander’s corpse.

  Hardwick probed Nick on the subject of Hayley Saunders, hoping to find out some information which might lead him and Flint in the direction of some sort of motive for murder. Instead, Nick was remarkably casual about the whole affair.

  ‘It’s just a casual thing, like,’ he said, leaning back on the chair with his arm hooked over the back and one leg crossed over the other. ‘Just a group of lads and birds on holiday, and that sort of thing happens don’t it? They come over on the same flight as us and turns out we was all staying at the same place, so we got chatting. Nothing serious.’

  ‘I guessed that when I watched you trying to chat up Jennifer Alexander,’ Hardwick said, noting that Nick’s face twitched slightly at hearing her name.

  ‘Yeah, well, that’s life ain’t it? Some you win, some you don’t.’

  ‘Did it not seem to bother you at all that she was there with her fiancé?’

  ‘Nah, not really. He seems like a bit of a drip anyway so thought it was worth a shot. Sort of thing that happens after a few drinks. No harm in it, is there?’

  Hardwick decided not to respond to that question.

  ‘What makes you think that way about James?’ Ellis asked.

  ‘Well come on, you must have noticed it yourself. The bloke’s a mouse. No harm in livening him up a bit, is there? Bringing him out of his shell, like.’