by S J Mantle
The guard seemed to be trying to steady Peters; she placed her arm around his upper body and lowered him into a sitting position on the cell bench.
“Look at Peters’ face.” Kate pointed to the screen.
Derek rewound the footage. Peters was leaning against the wall; all colour had drained from his face, he was motionless. Replaying the footage over and over, they could not get a clear view of the female guard. Kate was about to give up when she spotted something.
“There, look! Left wrist, just peeping out from under the glove.”
“Oh my God.” Derek paused the screen.
“Bloody hell.” Mike jumped to his feet.
“Is that Cleo Morris?” said a wide-eyed Derek.
“You know, I think it is. She must have had inside help,” said Kate.
“What do you mean?” Mike looked confused.
“Well, I happen to know she was recently head-hunted, resulting in access to greater resources and connections.”
“So, she accompanies Jack from the police station into the court, and then following the remand hearing murders him in his cell. Hang on a minute, look at this bit of footage. I think they may have known each other,” said Mike excitedly.
“Oh yes, they know each other. Jack Peters put work Cleo’s way but they recently had a falling out and Cleo is now working for Peters’ boss.”
“Are you sure?” asked Derek.
“Yes.”
“Can you say how you know?”
“I could, but I’m not sure you’d be so happy about it.”
“So, you wouldn’t be able to make a statement?”
“No.”
“Really?”
Kate shook her head vigorously.
“Okay, I’m not going to push you now. But we will have to re-visit this.”
“Can we see if the footage shows Cleo’s lips moving? If it does I have an idea,” said Mike.
They looked at the footage again, and it did indeed show Cleo talking to Peters.
“Wait a minute.” Mike left the room, returning less than five minutes later with a member of support staff.
“Sally can read lips. I know it’s not very scientific, but if it’s relevant we can always get it verified. I want to know what Cleo says to Peters,” said Mike, turning to Sally.
“Me too,” said Wynn, suddenly looking reinvigorated by the turn of events.
They all crowded around the screen.
“Hi Jack, bet I’m the last person you expected to see? This isn’t personal, just business. It was lucrative working for you, but your boss is so much more generous. Sleep tight, Jack.”
“This is immense; I can’t believe she’s so brazen,” said Mike, breaking the silence.
“That’s Cleo all over: bare-faced, greedy, clever and deadly,” said Kate.
“You know her personally?” asked Derek.
“I had the misfortune to be at the same boarding school for a while. She made my life a misery. It didn’t help that our mothers had an intense dislike for each other. It’s complicated.”
“Bloody sounds it,” said Mike.
“Have you had dealings with her other than at Highfield Hall?” asked Derek, looking directly into her green eyes.
“Yes.”
“Care to elaborate?”
“If I must?”
Derek nodded.
“I first came across her by chance in early spring when she brought her laptop in for repair and an upgrade. She didn’t see me, but I personally carried out the work.”
“And you saw something that made you suspicious?” said Mike.
“Something like that.”
“And?” said Derek.
“And there were several occasions when our paths crossed in one way or another,” said Kate, sighing.
“And there was a bloody good reason why you didn’t contact the police with your suspicions?” asked Derek.
“There was.”
“Okay, that’s enough for now. Let’s see if we can work out how Cleo disposed of Jack,” said Derek.
“I’m guessing she stuck to her usual M.O. but she was subtle about it. It’s possible she was able to inject him when she put her arm across to steady him. Look, she leans over him and pauses,” said Kate.
“Yep, seems the most obvious explanation, but why kill him?” said Mike.
“I think you might find that Peters had become a liability, a loose cannon,” said Kate.
“What was it on the CCTV do you think that made Nick Lacey bolt?” asked Derek.
“Well, I’d put my money on it being Cleo. I think he suddenly realised who she was, which was horrifying as he was having a relationship with her,” said Kate.
“Please tell me you are joking,” said Derek.
“No, I’m not, I’m deadly serious,” replied Kate.
“So, you think he recognised her and it dawned on him what a fool he’d been. That he’d been used, completely duped. It must have been mortifying, a massive conflict of interest,” said Derek.
“Yes, I think that’s highly possible,” said Kate as she looked at her watch.
“I’m sorry, but I need to leave, I have a plane to catch.”
“Harriet?” said Derek.
“Yes.” Kate nodded.
CHAPTER 31
Harriet awoke from a deep, delicious sleep; as she stretched out her legs, for the first time in a long time they were pain free. The room was small, yet airy and light. White billowing curtains danced in the pine-fragranced breeze. She could just make out the sound of water lapping on the shoreline outside.
She wasn’t frightened, the place felt calm and safe. There was a knock at the door and a smiling Kate entered carrying a tray of honey pancakes and hot coffee. She placed the tray beside Harriet and gave her a hug.
“It’s so lovely to see you awake and smiling. Welcome back.”
“Thank you, it’s lovely to be back.”
“Before you ask, Ben and Amelia are absolutely fine. They’re happy at Annie’s and I’ve kept in regular contact with them. You can face-time them in a bit, I’ll get it set up for you.”
“I would love that so much. I can’t wait to see them and catch up with them. Thank you so very much. Any news of my father?”
“I don’t know, but I can find out. I’ve been working with Derek Wynn and Mike Taylor, they might know.”
“You have?”
“Yes, there’s lots to catch up with but work can wait.”
“What’s the last thing you remember?” Kate sat on the edge of the bed.
“I remember hitting my head, but after that it’s a blank.”
“Okay, do you recall what you were doing in the vehicle?” Kate watched for signs of recollection. Harriet frowned.
“If I said you were engaged in a fight with Cleo? Would that ring any bells?”
Harriet shuddered. “Oh, yes. Did I win?”
“You did. Now don’t try too hard to remember. I’m told there is a good chance it will come back to you in time. In the meantime, I’m happy to fill in some detail, if you feel up to it?”
Harriet nodded enthusiastically, between mouthfuls of pancake.
“After you were injured you were taken by helicopter to a small Surrey airfield. One of our company, a doctor at Great Ormond Street Hospital, initially attended to you before you were flown to Greece in a private jet. We were unable to guarantee your safety in the UK. You’ve received first class medical treatment but your recovery has been slow. To begin with you were placed in an induced coma. Ten days ago, you were deemed well enough to be transferred to this house.”
“Which is where exactly?”
“On the outskirts of Kavala, the second largest seaport in northern Greece. In ancient times, it was a principle Macedonian seaport. Over the years there’ve been numerous border changes.”
“How long have I been in Greece?”
“Getting on for two months.”
“Two months? Really?”
“Yes, you w
ere poorly. Now, I don’t want to get in trouble for wearing you out so I think that’s enough catching up for today.”
Once again Harriet was alone. She reflected on events, unsure about how she felt. It was comforting to have Kate around and although they really didn’t know each other Harriet felt relaxed in her company; she seemed genuine and kind. She estimated Kate was probably about fifteen years younger than her.
It was a cold icy November morning when a small party on horseback set off in the direction of the mountains.
“Harriet, we’re off on an adventure. The trip is quite physical; are you up to it?” asked Kate.
“I most certainly am,” said a smiling Harriet who was relishing being outside.
“I hope you understand that I cannot tell you too much, but you will learn more as the trip progresses.”
They rode hard and fast. Kate was an accomplished horsewoman. Tall and lean, she rode with confidence and skill. For Harriet, it was considerably more challenging. Although she’d ridden as a teenager she estimated that it had been twenty years since she last sat in the saddle, but she wasn’t about to complain.
As they wound their way up the hillside Harriet marvelled at the scenery: rocky outcrops, tall grasses, pine and eucalyptus trees as far as the eye could see. Slate purple mountains towered above them. In the early morning light, they might have been mistaken for ancient castle walls. It seemed strangely familiar.
They wound their way up an increasingly steep mud track. Towards midday their surroundings began to change, with dirt giving way to rocky uneven ground. Then, a deep dank forest. After they’d been riding for approximately five hours, Kate signalled to the party to stop in a sheltered clearing, where they tended to their horses.
A small wood fire was lit for warmth. They ate bread, a local hard cheese, spinach and feta pastries, olives, and of course the local wine. After lunch Harriet and Kate stretched their legs. From a natural clearing Harriet could see just how far they had climbed that morning. She could just make out the outline of Kavala in the distance.
“In the reign of Philip II of Macedon, Kavala was known by the name of Imathia. If you look carefully you may just be able to make out its harbour beyond that ridge.” Kate pointed into the distance.
“It’s breath-taking, the sky is almost the same hue as the sea, and cloudless; the air dry and icy. It takes your breath away, literally.”
They walked on and found an ancient gnarled tree stump to sit on.
“Harriet, I want to thank you again for your bravery. Without your intervention we would have come to great harm.”
“That’s kind of you, but you don’t know that for sure.”
“I do. I felt so helpless, so naïve. I hadn’t a clue how to get us out of the fix we were in, but then you came to our rescue.”
“Look, no matter what state I was in, I couldn’t leave you. I had to do something. I guess you could say I was the ‘accidental warrior’,” said Harriet winking at the young woman at her side. They sat in companionable silence for a minute or two.
“There’s a rare and sacred place in the Pangaion hills, on Mount Pangeon. Its actual location is known only to a handful of individuals. It’s a secret that has been kept for several thousand years. Early on, our survival literally depended on it remaining undiscovered. The route has been handed down by word of mouth over the years, and now is only known through the one remaining unbroken blood line,” Kate continued.
“I belong to a secret organisation known as ‘The Guardians’. The Guardians are the custodians of King Philip II’s heritage, or his legacy. Have you heard of him?” Harriet nodded. “Philip was on the brink of unifying not only the Greek World but far further afield: Asia, Egypt and Syria when he was assassinated. Contrary to the view of some historians, he was aware of his own mortality and left his closest advisors implicit instructions should he die unexpectedly.
“It was Philip’s decree that his legacy should be guarded by his female descendants. This obligation was to fall to the eldest daughter and pass from mother to daughter. Where no daughter was born, it would pass to the eldest son, to be returned to his first- born daughter. The duty could not and still cannot be declined.
“Today, there is only one completely unbroken blood line. It began with Cynane, Philip’s daughter with Princess Audata, and passed to her daughter Eurydice, and so on. Princess Audata was trained as a warrior and consequently raised her daughter Cynane in the same way. Indeed, Cynane went to war with her father, as the eldest child. Over the generations this line has produced some truly remarkable women.
“As small children, we learnt of our legacy, where we fitted in the hierarchy. From an early age we were taught to be apprehensive of serpents, and to distrust those with an affinity to them. We were also taught that it was Philip’s absolute belief that one day the world would be unified. So, we wait, and we keep watch.”
“Incredible! As far back as I can remember my father’s been fascinated with Philip. Can I ask a question?”
Kate nodded.
“During the investigation, engraved stone discs kept surfacing. And I just wonder if you know anything about their significance?”
“They were Philip’s vision. Gold coins covered in a mixture of stone dust from Mount Pangeon and pine sap. When this mixture hardened, one side was carved with a sixteen-point sun. They were intended for his offspring, true friends and supporters. They were a way of identifying those loyal to the King.”
“Fascinating.”
“Philip’s son Alexander, and his daughter Cleopatra, the children from his marriage to Olympias, were excluded from this however.”
“And why was that?” asked Harriet, frowning.
“The simple answer is that Philip did not trust Olympias and therefore he could not be sure of their children’s loyalties.”
“This probably isn’t the place to talk about work, but I just need to know if possession of these discs by our victims means they were connected to Philip or to his loyal followers.”
“Yes, correct. You got tantalisingly close to blowing open the money laundering and protection racket run by Jack Peters and his associates. But such was Peters’ influence that you were moved from Operation Eagle before you could crack the case. We had a vested interest in helping to expose the corruption. And unbeknown to you, worked hard to try to protect you. You see, we wanted the truth to come out but were forbidden by our rules from direct contact. We experienced heavy financial losses ourselves at the hands of this corrupt syndicate.
“I should explain that with Philip is buried astonishing wealth. It was his implicit directive that it should be used for good, to support those in need. Over hundreds and hundreds of years huge sums have been invested and then used to support the needy. Sometimes famine, floods, or other natural disasters; other times, man-made disasters. Unfortunately, several Guardians were duped by Troy Manning and his associates into investing in a property development scheme in Canary Wharf. Despite all the usual checks, we were betrayed by some highly respected, high profile individuals, who were in the pocket of Manning and his cronies. When our Guardian investors realised what was happening they complained and were silenced. Troy Manning was a senior figure, but he got greedy and that was his downfall.”
“Manning was also murdered?” Harriet asked. Kate nodded.
CHAPTER 32
As dusk fell Harriet and Kate were joined by a young woman who introduced herself as Timo. Kate explained her name meant ‘Honour’.
“Harriet, we can talk again later but I’d like you to go with Timo now. Put on this cape, here’s a torch. Timo has something to show you.”
Unable to get the measure of Timo in the evening light, Harriet followed her up a narrow track. After about ten minutes they found themselves in a narrow valley. They continued until they reached a solid rock face. Timo beckoned to Harriet to follow.
They entered a small cave. At the far side was a dark recess. Timo placed her hands on the stone but Harriet could
not see what she was doing, despite moving in closer. She followed through a small opening in the rock, crawling on her hands and knees along a damp, dark, narrow, tunnel. After a short distance, they entered a slightly larger cavern which allowed them to stand upright. They walked along a lengthy stone walkway, barely wide enough for a cart, until they reached a vast door that towered above them. The enormity of the doors took Harriet’s breath away. They must have been 50ft high and were intricately carved with hunting scenes. Most striking of all, they appeared to be made of gold. Somehow, Timo caused the doors to swing open. They entered and found themselves on another walkway, in a cathedral-like chamber; enormous, immense. Harriet shone her torch around the remarkable space. There were huge carved arches and exquisite statues.
Timo took her hand and led her to the left-hand side of the chamber. Harriet angled her torch downwards into the dark recess below catching a glimpse of something, maybe a figure. Heart racing, she looked again, this time allowing the torch light to rest on the figure below. She let out an involuntary cry. For there, directly below her, was a male, lying resplendent on a golden couch. His opulent crimson and gold embroidered gown showed no signs of age. In his hands, which were resting on his chest, was a golden orb, the size of a small melon and shaped like the sun, with many solid points emanating from it.
Remarkably, he seemed to be almost perfectly preserved. Harriet stood for a moment, trying to take it in, a wide smile on her face. She assumed that the conditions in the cave must be largely responsible for the lack of deterioration. She leant over the balustrade to take a closer look. He was, she estimated, in his late forties, with a full dark beard and thick dark curly hair. On his head rested an intricate gold crown inlaid with precious stones. Either side of him were personal items: a sword, a bow and arrows, a shield, and long spear. There were also several golden chests and four life-size gold horses framing his couch. Harriet squeezed Timo’s hand hard, just to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. Timo squeezed back. The two women stood in silence. Some time later Harriet reluctantly allowed Timo to lead her to the end of the walkway and out of the chamber, into several inter-connecting smaller halls crammed from floor to ceiling with gold and silver ingots.
