Hotel Murder: The most gripping, page-turning mystery of the year (Greek Island Mysteries Book 5)

by Luke Christodoulou

  ‘Oh, for the love of God...’ Ioli said, covering her nose. The musty air carried a putrid scent. A shadow moved with speed upon hearing her footsteps. Ioli cursed again and jumped at the sight of the dead-rat dangling from an alert cat’s blood-dripping mouth. The Bengal cat took one cautious look at us and vanished in seconds from the study.

  More rattling noises were heard from inside the manor.

  ‘More cats?’ Ioli whispered and placed her right hand upon her firearm.

  ‘Let’s hope so,’ I said and called out, ‘Hellenic Police. Is anybody, here?’

  My voice bounced around the room, causing clattering from the next room. From the open door, the Chesterfield sofa betrayed the nature of the room. We cautiously entered the living room. Ioli had her gun raised to chest level, while I took heavy, slow steps towards the armchair facing the majestic fireplace. A few well-fed rats scattered into dark corners as I approached the beige, tall-back chair. To my bad luck, their stubborn leader remained. I gingerly placed my sweaty hand upon the chair’s arm and swirled it around. A decomposing, old, short man faced me accompanied by a chubby rotten feasting on his face. The pack of rats had nibbled half his face off. I did the sign of the cross upon my body and took a step back as the rat king showed his crimson painted teeth at me, before leaping from the dead body and rushing off to his loyal troops of scavengers.

  Chapter 5

  Valentina arrived at the port the only time she knew - late.

  No matter the effort, it seemed she never managed to keep a schedule and be where she had to be, the time she had to be.

  Alexandro walked with a fast pace in front of her, one arm behind his back, rolling his black suitcase along, the watch-wearing other arm raised to eye level.

  ‘Shit, it’s twenty past.’

  ‘So? The invitation said four. I doubt the boat has left...’

  ‘There might be a presentation or something,’ Alexandro cut her sentence as he paused to look around. His head turned from left to right, and his wary eyes scanned the vast port of Peireus.

  ‘How the heck are we supposed to know where to go?’ he asked with hints of desperation coloring his voice. Tens of ships stood proudly before him, towering him, standing perfectly still, though on water. The frail winter breeze, known for its chilly bite by the sea, did not carry the strength to move these eight thousand tonne steel commercial ships.

  ‘Relax, hon. It won’t be here. It will be further down. Ferries are after the cruise ships,’ Valentina said, walking straight past him and turning left down the long ocean-side road. ‘And I’m supposed to be the girl from out of town!’

  ‘You sure?’ Alexandro replied, paying no attention to her pun.

  Valentina took off her red woolly hat, and her blonde hair escaped, free to dance upon the wind. A smile came to life upon her face as her eyes noticed a bright yellow board with crimson red capital letters dominating its top. HOTEL MURDER, it read.

  ‘Told you so,’ she said, gloating.

  Alexandro rushed to the sign, mumbling as he read. ‘Dock, 52. Passenger area,’ he finally said clearly, and speedily continued down the road, zig-zagging among tired-looking workers carrying tools and buckets towards an aging ship, covered in blisters and peeling paint. The relentless Greek sun showed no mercy to all beneath it during prolonged summer periods.

  Valentina did her share of mumbling as well. ‘Couldn’t have grabbed a taxi or the Metro to the main entrance? No, we had to bring our own car and leave it in the furthest parking lot possible ‘cause it’s cheaper... It’s a free trip for God sake...’ she grumbled from behind closed teeth. Luckily for them both, Alexandro’s pointy ears were too far away to catch any of her displeased words.

  The line for the Hotel Murder ferry stood out from the rest like a black olive in a piece of pie. Plain docking rails were lowered from smaller ships that ran the routes back and forth from the Greek Isles connecting islanders and the handful of tourists with the capital. Small island airports maintained operations during the three winter months were scarce.

  The boarding area for the Hotel Murder ferry was anything but plain.

  For their guests, staff had prepared and were serving fancy canapes on silver platters, a red carpet lay on the cold, grey cement ground and a lavish rail connected land with the freshly painted speed-boat. The colorful ferry stood out among the dull-painted rest. Stripes of bright red, blue and yellow travelled around it; it was as bright as a spring riot of freshly born flowers.

  Alexandro took one look at the crowd waiting to board the boat and turned to Valentina’s direction. ‘You sure we are invited? Seems like an upper-class crowd kind of thing.’

  Valentina had her eyes on her jacket’s zipper as she opened the blue, thick sports jacket, offering herself cool air. Running behind Alexandro worked up quite a sweat. She had already regretted her beige cashmere jumper. Valentina’s emerald eyes gazed up and studied the well-dressed group of people chatting away carefree around three tall tables, drinking champagne.

  ‘Guess the crisis is not for all,’ Alexandro whispered as he, too, unzipped his black, leather jacket.

  ‘Just because they’re dressed-up...’ Valentina began to say, yet was interrupted by a man in his early thirties –maybe even younger, dressed in full sailor’s outfit, standing on the edge of the ferry, looking down at the covering of around twenty people.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen, your attention please,’ the fair-haired man began his speech, adding extra bass to his voice. The chattering fell down the decibel scale all the way to complete silence. Even the bombshell blonde jabbering about her loft in Switzerland to two ladies, both in their late fifties, stopped the conversation immediately and swung her stool in the direction of the voice.

  ‘Welcome to the experience of a life time. Again, congratulations on your win. I am Platonas Pappas. On behalf of Hotel Murder, I welcome you on board. The staff and I, are at your service. Your luggage is being loaded as we speak...’

  Valentina smiled politely at the young man that ran up to them and discreetly took their suitcases.

  Platonas raised a handful of envelopes in the air and continued his passionate oration. ‘I have here an envelope for every one of you. I ask you to study everything enclosed meticulously. You will find your new identity for the weekend, your character’s background details and more. Please, do not, I repeat, do not share anything written in red. Those details are to be known later on in the game. After the first murder!’

  ‘New identity?’ a bull-necked man with greasy, jet-black hair pondered out loud.

  ‘First murder? Oh, sounds so exciting,’ the youngest of the group, a twenty-something, pale-skinned girl said excitingly, turning to her two brothers, standing by her side.

  ‘It’s not as complicated as it sounds,’ Platonas replied and let his high-pitched awkward giggle slip through the words. ‘You will use your real first name. It is mostly details needed to help move the game along.’

  Just then, a coltish man with a distinct Greek nose and a row of dazzling, white teeth stepped forward.

  ‘As we are in a questioning mood, may I ask what I believe is on everyone’s mind?’

  ‘Food?’ Alexandro whispered into Valentina’s ear and followed his quip with a kiss on her icy earlobe. Valentina smiled and leaned into him, while the gentleman with the posh manner of speaking continued with inquiring where exactly their destination was.

  ‘Yeah,’ the only man wearing jeans besides Alexandro shouted in agreement. ‘Where are we going? You lured us in with your free offer of luxury and mystery, and failed to mention where the heck you’re taking us,’ the scruffy looking, thick-bearded man continued, chewing up the words as he spoke, leaving behind various vowels.

  ‘See? It’s not just royalty,’ Valentina said into Alexandro’s ear and returning his previous gesture with a full-lip kiss on his freshly-shaved neck.

  Platonas coughed quietly and looked straight at the man complaining. ‘My dear sir, the unknown destinat
ion is a part of the mystery,’ he said, maintaining his professional tone. ‘And, between us, I think the company wants the focus to be the hotel and the experience and not the island. You know, if they said it was Skiathos, people would be like, oh, I’ve been there before, or I don’t like Skiathos, it’s too commercial and so on. You will not be experiencing the island. It’s a two-day game. But, trust me, it will be amazing,’ he continued, now more casually, taking on a friendly tone as he noticed his original answer did not register well.

  ‘Well said, my lad,’ a fruity voice came from behind them. A plum, six feet tall Bishop approached, dressed in his pitch black clerical clothing. His heavy, pure gold chain with a diamond-decorated cross was the only item breaking the darkness of his attire. ‘I am Bishop Arsenios. Sorry, I’m late,’ he added, his eyes gathering in their corners and forming a judgmental look, aimed at his petite wife who breathlessly followed him. Her thin figure was covered by a dark purple dress and despite her not being older than forty, white hairs danced out of her strict bun. ‘Oh, and this is my wife, Salome.’

  Salome offered a flat smile from her make-up free face and quickly lowered her dark hazel eyes.

  Platonas also had his head lowered listening to a young, red-haired girl with a block of papers in her hands. Valentina studied her hands; she counted eight rings on her slender fingers. As she lifted her gaze from the girl’s turquoise nail polish, she read her lips. ‘That’s all of them.’

  Platonas stood soldierly, a posture he performed well during his short stint in the army, and proudly announced: ‘Ladies and gentlemen, you may board the ferry. Hotel Murder awaits you!’

  Chapter 6

  Lights came to life upon the luxurious ferry as guests eagerly boarded. Bright light covered the wooden deck and illuminated the lounge area of the boat. The sun was still lingering above the oceanic horizon, and a full moon dominated the sky, yet nature’s lustre carried no power.

  Valentina slid her hand into Alexandro’s and moved slowly behind the two near-senior ladies. Her thoughts running back to Folegandros and her dear mother. She, also, would have worn her best fur coat, wore a tad of make-up too much and had her hair blown up in the same style as the two friend who seemed to be walking slower than a zombie in a George Romero movie.

  ‘I’ll be their age by the time we board,’ Alexandro jokingly said, leaning closer to her; his warm breath was in contrast to the chilly wind that was growing in strength as the sun began to dip into the Aegean.

  Valentina kicked his foot and her lips took on what Alexandro kindly referred to as her ‘fish-face’. Yet, her signature, prolonged ‘Shh,’ never came. Her googly eyes were pointing to the lady’s black shades. Alexandro’s deductive mind took over and even though the lanky woman had no walking cane or behaved in any obvious way as visually impaired, he realized she was blind. Her steps were taken carefully, while her left hand held tightly to the railing. The tip of her shoe caught his attention. Like an Indian scout, it moved ahead charily in search of hazardous obstacles.

  ‘Small step ahead, dear,’ her friend said, as the duo reached the end of the three-meter railing, serving as a bridge between land and transport to an unknown destination. Her right hand hovered as she paused and waited to feel her friend grab her and take the step with her.

  ‘I’d rather lose all my other senses than sight,’ Valentina whispered, mostly talking to herself, releasing inner thoughts of phobias carried over a lifetime.

  ‘Logical,’ Alexandro replied with a mischievous grin. ‘How could you live without gazing at this marvelous face and body?’ he asked, stretching out his arms and flexing his muscular build.

  ‘My Apollo!’ Valentina said, taking on a school-play, theatrical tone of voice.

  ‘Huh? Did you call me?’ the gentleman standing a few feet behind them inquired. ‘Have we met before?’ he continued in a shaky voice.

  ‘Excuse me?’

  The man read her expression. ‘Nothing. Sorry,’ he rushed to apologize. ‘Just thought I heard my name. I was distracted by the beauty of the sun setting and thought you called me. I’m Apollo,’ he said and took a lengthy step forward, extending his hand towards their direction.

  Valentina swallowed a raging giggle and shook his cold hand.

  ‘Valentina,’ she replied and introduced Alexandro.

  ‘You seem like a lovely couple,’ he said with a wide smile. He then tilted his black Fedora hat with a pinch of his fingers and rushed past them into the warmer belly of the boat.

  Valentina and Alexandro exchanged a silent, short-lived kiss on their dry, icy lips and followed. Soon, both sank back into the soft sofa in the corner of the lounge; lost in each others arms. Waiting in silence and excitement for their weekend getaway to begin.

  ‘Quite a blend of people,’ an olive-skinned man, with wide shoulders and a well-cared-for mustache, commented as he sat down beside them. He leaned forward, placing his elbows upon his legs and was first to rip open the white envelope provided to all passengers as they boarded. As his bright, pale-gold eyes skimmed over the letter with the fine print and the Hotel Murder seal, Valentina studied his grayish hairs as they fought against his chestnut hairs for dominance on his skull.

  ‘It’s him,’ she said, finding herself whispering in her man’s ear once again.

  ‘Who?’ Alexandro replied without turning, in his ‘I’m listening, but not really paying attention’ voice that she despised. She caught his eyes pretending to be journeying carefree around the low ceiling room, yet she knew he focused on the bombshell who had settled opposite them - her breasts and rear ready to burst out of her shockingly tight dress. Valentina did not mind him staring. Her eyes were not faithful either, during most days. Valentina had a rule. Well, it was more of a saying. You can look at the menu, you just cannot order.

  She placed her hand upon his strong chin and turned him in her direction. ‘Theodore Moutsina, the congressman you made me vote for during the last election.’

  Alexandro spun round immediately, ignoring Valentinas’s nails as they gently scrapped his barely noticeable beard. ‘Sir? Oh, it is a pleasure to meet you. We vote in Athen’s A District and are avid supporters. We are police officers and your stance on crime…’

  Theodore’s uproarious laughter cut his flow of admiration.

  ‘Calm down, son,’ he said and took Alexandro’s right hand, sandwiching it in both of his. His trademark handshake. ‘Glad to meet supporters, but please, no politics. Here, I am…’ He took a look at his papers and continued ‘Theodore, the retired gardener that will stay in room 103 and discover the second murder weapon in the library on the second day’.

  He winked at Valentina and said, ‘I’ll say no more. I plan to win this game and having two officers of the law against me, just makes this all that much harder. I love solving mysteries!’

  As Alexandro continued his conversation with his political hero, Valentina took her own envelope into her hands, cut the edge and slid her nail inside. She leisurely ripped it open and having taken a look around the room, her eyes settled on the expensive, cream-colored paper.

  Valentina, the murderer! she read, and her inner voice echoed around her mind. Please, do not reveal ANY details, she continued reading the red-colored warning. You will be responsible for the third death. After the first body is found, more information will be provided. Your first mission is to get Jocasta to open up to you. Good luck, player.

  Valentina carefully folded the letter and pushed it back inside its nest.

  Who’s Jocasta?

  Her eyes journeyed the room. Seven women sat in the lounge. What if she is staff, though?

  Valentina could not help but smile. Look at me, already in the game. All I wanted was a quiet weekend with my man… I hope names are mentioned because I am in no way in the mood to converse with all these people.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by an irritating ringtone coming from the leather Valentino bag by her side. The redhead that had her back to her swung round and un
zipped her bag. Her hands moved around like a hunted mole.

  ‘There you are,’ her high-pitched, grating voice announced as her different colored nails pulled out the latest iPhone into the air. ‘Who’s this now?’ she wondered as she continued speaking louder than the booming ringtone. ‘Hello? Yes, this is Jocasta. Helen, darling, is that you? I did not recognize the extension. Oh, you’re down in logistics. Speak up, dear. I’m on a boat… Yes, left early today to make it… Just a relaxing two-day getaway. Will be back on Monday. Don’t say anything as I think I will take sick leave for Monday,’ she said, giggling after every sentence. She paced up and down in front of Valentina - in the same manner anyone else would walk in the comfort of their own living room. Jocasta continued her conversation, loudly giving instructions on how to file a certain certificate.

  So, you are Jocasta. Just my luck. The most annoying person is the one I am instructed to talk to’

  Valentina rolled her eyes and leaned her head on Alexandro’s back. Her eyes took one look at the dark sea outside, and her eyelids moved down to offer serenity. Alexandro brought his political conversation to an end and turned to take her into his arms. He kissed the top of her head and leaned back into the tall-back sofa.

  Lost in his embrace, Valentina thought that not even Jocasta could ruin her romantic escape to a Greek Island.

  Whichever island that may be.

  Chapter 7

  Ioli parted her ample, coral lips to speak, yet no words came out. The stench that dominated the vast room cloaked her nose, making her mouth essential to breathing. I headed straight to the row of windows to my left. I pulled back heavy, dust-collecting, Roman curtains and stood before the weirdly-shaped glass window. The oval window was separated into two. I opened the lower one with ease and then, with complaints from my joints, I stretched to unlatch the higher, much larger window. Pure country air rushed into the room as Ioli flicked on all the living room lights. Expensive chandeliers came to life, forcing me to momentarily narrow my eyes, offering them time to adjust to the strong light.