Greek Island Mysteries Boxed Set (Books 1-2-3): Gripping, psychological mystery/thrillers destined to shock you!

by Luke Christodoulou

  He wiped his watery eyes with his shaking closed hands. “Maybe it’s better this way. He belongs with his mother,” he then said strikingly calm. He took a moment and asked maintaining his new found calm tone of voice, “so you arrested the American then?”

  “American?” Ioli asked.

  He gave her an angry look and snapped at her.

  “Yes, American. You haven’t heard him speak? Pretty damn obvious if you ask me.”

  “He is refusing to talk to us,” I lied again, feeling immoral.

  “Does he look like me?” he asked.

  “Why do you ask such a thing?” Ioli answered back with a question.

  “When I wrote back to him, offering him millions for my boy, I asked why me? He replied that it was because I was so handsome and in a parenthesis he added we look so much alike!”

  “I wouldn’t say you resemble much,” I kept on feeding the lie.

  “I want to go back to my cell now.”

  “Of course,” I said and called in the guards.

  Bill walked off a broken man with touches of sorrow, grief, regret and hopelessness painted in his eyes.

  *****

  Chapter 35

  The next morning came with news for Ioli. Some surprising, some not so surprising. I stood before her and announced what I had learned and what I planned on doing next.

  “Bill hung himself last night in his cell with his bed sheet.”

  “Money truly can’t buy you happiness. He lost his wife, then his son,” she said with hints of pessimism of the world’s state in her voice.

  “Lemnos called. No success at all at apprehending Jason’s attacker.”

  “No surprises there,” she said and fell further back into my sofa.

  “And… no questions allowed, I am going to New York for a few days.”

  “What?” she said and her face lost all its sweetness.

  “Why?” she raised her voice as I did not respond.

  “I did say no questions.”

  “Family?”

  “You can stay here if you like. You could go to Crete. Officially, we are still on vacation. The chief is keeping everything hush-hush on the new developments and Bill’s death will suit him fine. It closes the Olympus case in the media’s eyes till we catch out killer.”

  “I’m lost for words.”

  “Well, that will be a first.”

  “Please, don’t joke,” she said quietly.

  “I’m sorry,” I said and sat beside her.

  She hugged me with both arms and laid her head on my chest.

  “I trust you. Do what you have to do.”

  *****

  Chapter 36

  Ioli was torn. She had never felt so lost of clear choices. Not that she was a fan or even a believer of astrological signs, but one thing she did agree upon was that as a Virgo she wanted everything to be in order. She loved having a schedule and she kept to it. This was her first case that required leaving home, leaving Crete. She was now faced with the dilemma of staying in Athens or returning to her island. The thought of going back to Lemnos or maybe even traveling to find the next murder location and victim spawned in her mind.

  The midday gossip shows playing on the TV were not helping with her mentality either. She sat in the middle of the black leathered couch feeling lonely and without purpose. She turned and glared at her made up suitcase next to the bedroom’s door. She did not wear self pity well. Vibration sounds echoed through the room, interrupting her thoughts. Her phone was moving left across the old, wooden coffee table. It was Michael. It fed her pity and anger. She had promised to call him and she had not been in touch with him since leaving Lemnos so abruptly.

  “Hey, sorry I did not call. I was…”

  “No need to apologise. I miss you,” his gentle voice came through the receiver.

  “Miss you too.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Athens. You’re still in Lemnos?”

  “Yes, still here. I am flying out in the evening to Athens. My flight home is in four days. I hope no murders happen and I will get to see you more than a day at a time.”

  “I’m free for all four days!” she answered having decided to let him fix her self-pity state of mind.

  “Excellent! I can’t wait. I’ll call you from my hotel. Nice, little central place whose name I can’t recall just now,” he laughed.

  She smiled at his high spirits and tried to erase their first sexual encounter from her mind.

  *****

  Chapter 37

  Ioli had not been out and about in Athens in years, the last time being a long weekend with the girls during the festivities for the celebrations for the 25th of March; a double holiday in Greece. It is the anniversary of the uprising of the Greeks against their Ottoman oppressors, and it is also the day the Greek Orthodox Church celebrates the annunciation of Archangel Gabriel to the Virgin Mary that she was pregnant with the Son of God. Ioli and her group of girlfriends had come with two missions in mind. Shopping and meeting singer Saki Rouva backstage after enjoying his extravagant show at the nightclub where he performed. They had accomplished both tasks and left Athens satisfied.

  She felt relaxed and enjoyed Michael’s company though the economical crisis had surely changed her beloved megacity. There were many homeless lying around and others roaming the streets begging for spare change. The lay-off of municipality workers resulted in dirtier streets, though if one kept in the main tourist areas, it would be easy to not realise such a fact. One thing Troika could not take away was the city’s vibe. Athens was unique and had much to offer. The Greeks had been through worse during their turbulent history and have always come out on top. Ioli always said that hope died last, and she was reminded of this as she strolled, hand in hand, with Michael through Omonoia’s square and saw a young, homeless couple sleeping in each other’s arms as they made the rough bench their bed.

  ‘‘They could take away their home but not their love,’’ Michael commented and Ioli leaned in close and placed her lips on his neck.

  Michael proved the sort of company Ioli enjoyed the most. He enjoyed good food, laughed often, never complained as she zigzagged in and out small, charming shops and drank more than three coffees during their excursions.

  “How often do you think of your case?” Michael asked over their third coffee at a ten table little cafe with a stunning view of the Parthenon.

  “Who said I am thinking of the case?”

  “Your eyes,” he smiled and touched her hand.

  “I feel guilty,” she admitted.

  “Guilty? Why?”

  “I feel like I am sitting here having the time of my life, carrying the knowledge that some poor person will be brutally murdered and there is nothing I can do about it. The public has no idea that Bill was not our killer and we have no idea who is or where he is going to strike next. We have failed. I have failed!”

  “I think you are being too hard on yourself. You did your best and it is your chief’s idea to keep things quiet about Bill. The next victim’s blood is on his hands.”

  “Can we change the subject?” she asked. She was in no mood of talking about blood.

  “I’m sorry; I was just trying to be supportive.”

  “I know. You’re a good boy,” she laughed.

  “Good enough to enjoy a positive answer to my inquiry if you are going to come stay the night with me at my hotel?” he said and anxiously tried to read her facial expressions. She looked down to the left and opened her mouth but did not respond.

  “I don’t mean to be pushy and all but we have been having such a great time the last two days and I am leaving tomorrow…”

  “That’s the thing, Michael,” she replied. “You’re leaving and the last thing I need at the moment is goodbye sex.”

  “Who said anything about goodbyes?”

  “Let’s not kid ourselves, Michael. How is this going to work?”

  “I did not want to say anything because I was afraid of scaring
you off, but…” he said and went silent.

  “But?” she urged him to continue.

  He leaned forward over the round table and covered her soft hands with his. He looked straight into her eyes and stared at her for a tender moment before saying “I am in love with Greece. Always was. You think if I met the right woman I would not give it all up and move here?”

  She was lost for words and took a second to gather her thoughts.

  “Michael, you can’t give up your job. I’m flattered, but you love teaching…”

  “And who says I cannot teach here? So many private schools that teach in English and who knows? Maybe my Greek will one day reach a sufficient level and I could teach at a Greek university.”

  “I can’t believe we are having this conversation.”

  “If you believe it, it can happen. Come on. Live the moment and live it with me.”

  “Ok, no need to get dramatic. You men would say anything to get laid!”

  “You men?” he laughed out loud and tilted back his head reminding her of her partner that was somewhere far away across seas and oceans.

  His laughter died down slowly and he wiped away his laughter’s tears.

  “Finished?” he asked, looking at her white coffee mug. She lifted up her mug and showed him the bottom as a reply.

  “Great. Where to next?”

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “What do you mean?” he replied puzzled.

  “Thought we were going back to your hotel, Mr Johnson.”

  He jumped up from his chair and yelled “Taxi!” gaining stares from bystanders.

  “You’re mad!” she laughed as she got up and joined him on the sidewalk.

  “You have no idea, Mrs Cara,” he replied as he opened the taxi’s back door.

  “Your carriage awaits, my princess,” he kneeled down and bowed.

  “Yes, I can see that!” she replied to his previous statement and entered the taxi slightly embarrassed by the driver’s disapproving look as he waited in the traffic for the mad American to get in the car.

  The professor’s hotel was not far. In fact, it was the ultra luxurious King George Palace, located in the heart of Athens, just a ten-minute drive away. Michael surely did not have money problems. For Ioli, money was never a goal in life, however the professor’s well being was a positive note as it would make it easier for him to move to Greece. She could not imagine herself ever leaving her sun kissed homeland.

  They held hands, sitting in the back of the cab, all the way to the hotel. Michael paid the man adding a generous tip and together they exited the vehicle. Swiftly, they jogged up the marble steps and entered the hotel’s vast and luxurious lobby. The suited to her attire, fifty-ish looking, slim lady with the wavy auburn hair smiled at them from behind the quartz reception.

  “Suite 601, please,” he said.

  “Here you go, Mr Johnson,” she replied and gracefully passed him the electronic card.

  They held hands as they waited for the elevator to come down and exchanged high-school guilty looks.

  “601. Top floor huh? Suite?” Ioli remarked as she watched him press the red glowing button that ordered their golden cage up to the top floor.

  “Rich family. Rich allowance,” he honestly replied and quickly added, “I’m not spoilt though. I work and I do not spend much. Hotels is one of the few luxuries I offer myself. I have an issue with places being spotless clean and as you have realised I enjoy eating. The more stars a hotel has the longer the buffet!”

  “Amen to that,” she laughed and sealed her laughter with a passionate kiss on his half opened lips. She was going to try her best to make a better memory than their first time together.

  The card slid through the metal grip and beeped open the expensive door. The maroon carpet fitted room was far more spacious and opulence than what she had pictured it to be. Everything was catered for to the finest detail. The curtains opened symmetrically, the same shape and colour apples in the glass fruit holder, the many spotlights offering various ways of lighting the room, the paintings in colour harmony with the expensive vases, the fresh flowers and the spotless surfaces. The balcony drew her out to enjoy the view. The bustling metropolis was in eyesight, but no noise found its way up to the tranquil 6th floor. She turned and looked back inside the room. Michael had kicked off his white sneakers and had sat down on the double bed. She loved the way he looked at her. A warm look with hints of desire. She felt him eating her up with his blue eyes and she felt special. She walked over to him and stood between his legs. His hands ran up her thighs and reached her waist. He pulled her on top of him and his hands continued under her shirt to caress her back. Their lips locked and the environment faded away. Hands moved around and clothes fell quickly to the floor. She felt his lips biting her neck softly and she closed her eyes in delight.

  “Don’t leave,” she exhaled.

  “Your wish is my command, my Athena,” he replied.

  The stimulation blocked the registration of the words, but when they reached her brain she stopped in shock.

  “What did you call me?”

  He looked puzzled.

  “Don’t stop now, baby. Come to me.”

  “I am just going to freshen up and I’ll be right with you,” she replied in a flat voice and got up. She kneeled next to her jeans and her hands searched frantically.

  “Looking for this?” he said in a playful tone.

  She slowly stood up and saw her gun in his right hand as he stood on the bed towering over her.

  “Oh, don’t worry. Guns are not part of my M.O. as you would say. Knives are more my style!” he said with a glow of thrilling joy painting his eyes.

  Ioli gathered herself fast.

  “So I was Athena all along?” she asked, not moving a muscle. She stood scared and naked opposite her enemy.

  “Clever, single, against marriage, dynamic, carries weapons, beautiful, owl-like eyes. Oh, yes. You are a perfect Athena. Who would believe my luck when you said you had to come to Athens? Your sacred city!” he said overexcited as he waved the gun at her. He jumped off the bed and hissed orders at her.

  “Open the bed side table’s drawer and take out the handcuffs. Kneel down, put your arms behind your back and put them on.”

  She obeyed. She moved slow trying to gain time to assess her situation. Should she try to attack him? He did imply he would not shoot. Where was his knife? Was there a way to call for help? She had not noticed anyone staying in the nearby suites.

  “Hurry up, my goddess,” he continued hissing out orders and interrupted her thoughts. She did as she was told. He kneeled down behind her and that is when she felt the cold blade touch her neck. He pulled down his grey underpants, pressed his naked body upon hers and whispered “let’s have some fun first, right? That’s why we came here after all.”

  He pushed her head hard down on the mattress and licked her face hard.

  Ioli closed her eyes and that is when the loud noise of the door being kicked in was heard.

  “Get off her, now!” I shouted.

  “Costa?” Ioli cried out not believing I was really there.

  Michael pulled her up from the hair and placed her in front of him as a human shield.

  “Don’t do anything stupid, professor. There is no escape for you. The hotel is surrounded. It’s over. Let her go.”

  “She’s mine!” he howled while his eyes moved rapidly from side to side.

  “Tell them to back off or I will cut open her pretty little throat right now!” he ordered as he fixed his stare at the door and the two men of the swat team.

  I waved to the men to pull back and I stepped closer to the professor and Ioli.

  “How did you find me?” he demanded to know.

  I lowered my gun and replied “you were clever. I’ll give you that. Very clever. But as I always say, it is the little things that matter. And they always add up and give you away.”

  “And what were my little things mighty, great
detective?”

  “Bill mentioned that the killer said that the two of them looked alike. And indeed. Bill fit the description given to us by the shop owner in Cyprus. That got me thinking. Why would such a careful planner like the Olympus Killer give away his appearance so easily? Twice! Because it was not his appearance. That’s why. You walked into that shop not caring because it was not truly you my blue eyed, blond friend. Think about it. What could someone change so easily about his facial appearance? His hair with a wig and his eyes with a pair of coloured lenses. When Bill said the killer was American, it just all fell into place. You and Bill are exactly the same build and height. After interrogating Bill, I went home and changed my sketch. It’s funny how something so obvious can avoid the mind. I drew blond hair and blue eyes and guess who was staring back at me?”

  “Me,” he said proudly.

  “Yes, you my American, mythology-loving prick. You gave the performance of a lifetime. I remember you sitting there all scared on that beach in Cyprus with your swollen, red eyes and scratching your head awkwardly. Guess the wig was itching and you were not used to wearing eye contacts for so long next to the sea and with all the sand swirling around. You sat there as Ioli said that she thought the gods were twelve and you replied yes, they are! Not were, you said are. They are real to you, aren’t they?”

  “You said he was flying to the States,” he yelled and pressed the knife tighter on Ioli’s throat. Drops of blood ran down her neck.

  “I did go. That was no lie. You had an alibi. You weren’t even in Greece when the Blairs died right? Or so you told the police in Lemnos. I had my friend Jimmy check you out. Apparently when Eric Blair was being slaughtered you were at a fundraising gala in New York. You spoke at the event for everyone to see and hear. Had everything planned out didn’t you?”

  “You don’t know the half of it, detective. Good luck getting a jury to convict me with such proof. And as for Athena here, it will be your word against mine. I will say you did it. You went mad after your daughter’s gruesome death and came to Greece a maniac,” he said and lifted up the knife, ready to stab.