Island Casualty

by D. R. Ransdell

  “I see. And if you are, should I stop?”

  “If you want.”

  “That’s all? ‘If you want?’”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

  “God forbid you should say anything you wouldn’t want to.”

  She finished the soda and set the glass down hard on the nightstand. Then she turned her back to me and settled into a comfortable position.

  After a few minutes, I rose and went out to the balcony. I could hear the waves in the distance as they gently lapped the shore in contrast to the elements that crashed in my mind: my hosts’ nonchalant attitude versus my own, the struggle between romantic love and societal expectations, the cover-up Soumba expected to pull off because he was a wolf compared to the Amirosians who were more sheep than their livestock. Amiros was an island paradise as long as you didn’t know much about it. To live here comfortably, you had to let an awful lot go.

  Chapter Thirty

  Visiting hours had barely started, so the hospital’s only movement came from nurses and janitors switching shifts. I walked furtively because I didn’t want to run into Soumba. I hadn’t seen his car in the parking lot, but as long as he was making up his own rules for everything else, I figured he could probably park wherever he wanted to.

  Joey wasn’t in his room. At first I was afraid he’d decided to check himself out, but his clothes were still in the wardrobe. I was too antsy to stand around waiting, so I went to look for Letta.

  Since the door was cracked, I tapped it open. The patient was sitting up. A magazine lay open on her lap, but she wasn’t reading it. She was staring past the flowers on her nightstand to look out the window.

  I cleared my throat twice before she heard me.

  “Come in.”

  As I approached the bed, she smiled. A teddy bear’s ear peeked out from under the pillow. Dwarfed by bedding, Letta looked fourteen.

  “I don’t mean to disturb you.”

  “Please sit down. I’ve been terribly bored!”

  I pulled a chair next to the bed. “How are you doing?”

  Her ankle was in a thick cast. Her knee was bandaged.

  “They say I’ll be fine. Wouldn’t they say that anyway? But believe it or not, my mother is here too. Some lunatic attacked her down at the pier, and she went berserk!”

  My heart rate doubled, but I tried to keep my voice even. “You don’t say.”

  “It’s odd, isn’t it? But my mother, she’s always one to get upset. My dad says she’ll have to go away to a clinic for a while to get over the shock.”

  “I heard that she attacked the man.”

  “You’ve got it wrong. My dad told me all about it.”

  A chill went up my spine, invaded my neck, and slowly crawled down my lungs into my stomach. There was no use explaining.

  “Thanks for dropping by to see me,” she continued. “I’m sorry I missed you the other day, but they had me on tranquilizers until I stopped crying.”

  “I’m sorry about Hari.”

  Her eyes went glassy. She took a deep sigh, but for the moment, she was out of tears. “I still can’t believe it. I don’t know if I ever will.” She felt for the teddy bear and fondled its head.

  “Actually, I met him.”

  “You? How?”

  I told her about our morning coffee. Then I wrestled the jewelry box out of my pocket.

  “It seems that Hari left this behind when he went to look for a place to stay. I think it was meant for you.”

  At the sight of the box, Letta’s eyes expanded. She grabbed the velvet container eagerly, kissing it eight or nine times with such joyous exclamations I was afraid she would rouse all the nurses.

  “Thank you, thank you!”

  “You recognize the box, then?”

  “I was with Hari when he bought this for me.”

  She opened the lid as gingerly as if Pandora’s name had been written on it. When she saw the ring, her eyebrows arched. She slipped on the band, which was a perfect fit, and held her hand at a variety of angles so that the diamond could reflect the morning light.

  “I can’t thank you enough!”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Do you know how much this means to me?”

  “I think I could make a guess.”

  She hugged the box, kissed it again, and placed it on her nightstand. “This means the world to me.”

  “I’m glad.”

  Finally she looked up at me. “You had the ring all this time?”

  “I’m sorry. At first I didn’t know whose it was. After I knew, I was afraid to give it to you in case it made you feel worse.”

  “Don’t worry! I quite understand! I assumed someone had stolen it. In fact it was safe all this time!”

  “As I said, I’m sorry to have kept it from you.”

  “That’s not a problem. You see, it wasn’t supposed to be public information that we were engaged, not yet. That’s why Hari had come to Amiros alone. So that he could talk to my dad.”

  “Because your mother already knew?”

  “Of course! I think she wanted me to get married more than I did. She’s been helping me plan the wedding for months, only we hadn’t told Daddy about it yet. Hari and I hadn’t set the date, but we’d been sorting things out. Mother came up to Athens last week to help me buy a dress.”

  “Isn’t that strange?”

  “Oh, no. Here on Amiros the mothers usually help out a lot when it comes to a wedding.”

  “I mean, wasn’t it strange that she was so enthusiastic?”

  “She loved Hari completely. I honestly think she had a bit of a crush on him, but of course, she’d had the chance to spend a lot of time with him since she was so often in Athens.”

  I wasn’t sure what the guidelines were for polite conversation, so I took a chance. “Your mother didn’t mind that Hari was older than you?”

  “Men my age aren’t mature. Hari had a steady position at a university. He could have taken care of me.”

  “You’re in college. You can take care of yourself.”

  “Of course! But I want a family too. Many women work and have families, but then they don’t do a good job at either. My mother had to work, but we were poor when I was young. Mother kept trying to get Daddy to go into business with his cousin at The Amirosian, but he said that protecting people was more important than entertaining them. I agree with Daddy, but I know they struggled to pay their bills before he made police chief.”

  I stood and walked to the window. On the street below, an ancient man on a more ancient bicycle rolled past. Groceries nearly spilled out of the bike’s basket. I felt as ancient as the old man but even more out of place.

  “You said you were waiting to tell your father about the engagement. You knew he wouldn’t approve?”

  “Daddy didn’t understand at all. He didn’t want me to marry Hari even though he was completely right for me!”

  “So Hari asked for permission to marry you, but after your father said no, he went out and had the boating accident.”

  “Nothing like that, silly! Daddy didn’t talk to him. Hari never showed up to their appointment. He’d already, you know.” She drew a finger under her neck to indicate suicide.

  “Why would he have taken his own life?”

  “Because of his job, of course.”

  “I’ve never heard of a professor who committed suicide.”

  “Being a professor was his official job. He was also working for the government.”

  I opened my mouth and closed it again.

  “You might not have noticed, but the northern tip of Amiros is only half a mile from Turkey,” she continued. “It’s within swimming distance. Which is why it’s dangerous. Which is why we have to keep an eye on what’s going on.”

  “What does this have to do with Hari?”

  “He had friends high up in the government. When they realized Hari had a personal connection to Amiros, they used it to set up his cover.”


  For the first time, I wondered if suffering from delusions was a genetic condition. “I’m not quite sure I understand what you’re talking about.”

  “Hari was spying on the Turks. Obviously he got too close. Do you know about the note he wrote before he died? It said, ‘I got myself into more trouble than I could have ever imagined. This drastic measure is the only way to keep you safe.’”

  Ah. Another suicide note. Why not? As long as Soumba was into writing letters, he might as well make multiple versions of Hari’s death to fit every possible situation. Soumba was the one who had lost control. He’d become a God in his own kingdom of Amiros. Once he’d gotten himself into a position of power, he’d lost sight of every reality and started creating his own. I had stumbled into his vision, but I didn’t fit in anywhere.

  Anger flushed my cheeks, but I forced myself to speak. “I had no idea.”

  “Hari’s a hero, you know, but it had to be hush hush or everyone associated with him would have been at risk.”

  I could understand why Eleni and Nikos wouldn’t want to get involved with accusing a police chief of wrongdoing, but I had nothing to lose. I was about to leave Amiros and would probably never come back. All I needed was evidence to take to higher authorities. “Can I see the note?”

  “Stupid Petros! He accidentally threw it away and now they can’t find it. My last communication from Hari!”

  “What kind of danger was he in?”

  “The stupid newspaper called him a Turkish spy, which of course totally blew his cover as being a Greek one.”

  Soumba could have easily gotten a friend to take the picture and his cousin to plant the article. I was stupid for not thinking of it. He had masterminded the whole thing step by step, but he’d never expected that his wife might get involved and throw multiple wrenches into his little plot.

  “I flew down from Athens as soon as I heard about the news story, but I got here too late. Hari was already dead. You know what idiotic thing I did then.”

  “Not idiotic. Desperate perhaps. But why did you decide to date a spy?”

  “I didn’t know! They never tell the ones they’re closest to for fear of incriminating them. Daddy knew because Hari chose him as his contact. They had a code system all worked out.”

  I felt as sick as if I’d just pounded three cans of those awful Amirosian Sunsets. “Your father didn’t want you to marry Hari.”

  “Right! Daddy knew what danger I would be in.”

  The story was so ridiculous I wanted to believe it myself.

  ***

  I caught up with Nikos and Rachel on my way down to the docks. They’d brought my luggage along with one of Eleni’s special picnic baskets. Nikos was waiting in line at the ticket window when Soumba approached, waving his arms.

  “Don’t buy a ticket! I have everything!” He held a small suitcase and a jacket. Sunglasses perched on his head as if he were any other holiday traveler.

  I blinked. “What are you talking about?”

  He held out two tickets. “I’m going to Athens with you. I have to find a clinic for Agnesa. If I go now, I can have company along the way. I didn’t get a cabin. This is all right? If we get tired, we can sleep on deck.”

  I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I saw a bulge in his side pocket.

  “It is a long trip,” Nikos said. “Better to have company.”

  I pretended to agree, but I couldn’t very well call Athenian authorities with Soumba right beside me. I’d have to find an excuse to roam the decks, perhaps say I wanted to mingle with some of the tourists. That would be my only opportunity.

  Briefly I wondered if he’d anticipated my plans. He acted like the congenial Soumba who had laughed at the thought of my being a spy and spent afternoons eating ice cream, but by now I knew better. His messy office was a decoy. He kept all the plans locked into his head, somehow juggling what he told different people so that his stories wouldn’t collide.

  “Soumba!”

  When I turned around, I was astonished to see Stelios Panos running up beside us. For a moment I wanted to duck, but before I could react, he went straight to Soumba and gave him a bear hug.

  “I’m sorry to hear about the problems,” Panos said. “I want you to know that I’m going to help you pay for a clinic.”

  “My friend!” Soumba cried, returning the embrace. “Always our island can count on you.”

  “It is nothing,” Panos continued. “I have the profit. For my cousin, only the best. It is not Agnesa’s fault she is crazy. It runs in the family.”

  Of course. I’d temporarily forgotten that everybody on this damned island was related one way or another.

  Lascar and Petros joined our huddle. “The boat’s going to be at least an hour late getting in,” Lascar announced. “The captain just contacted the ticket office.”

  “Come on over to my café for a drink,” Nikos said. The men followed as if Nikos were the Pied Piper, leaving me alone with Rachel in the punishing morning sun.

  “Did you know Soumba intended to join you?” Rachel asked.

  “How would I?”

  “You seem to know everything else. At any rate you could pretend to be a little friendlier to him.”

  As much as I wanted to get back to California, I didn’t want to be stuck on a long ferry ride with a perpetual liar. And I absolutely refused to be friendly.

  “Rachel, one way or another, Soumba is involved with the death of his would-be son-in-law. Why can’t you understand that?”

  She sat on the dock, placed her sandals beside her, and dangled her feet over the edge. After long seconds of the silent treatment, I did the same.

  Waves splashed our heels. The wind had picked up, which meant that the ferry ride would be particularly uncomfortable.

  “Plus I think he’s carrying a gun,” I said to break the silence.

  “Greek police don’t carry guns.”

  “This one does.”

  Rachel stared at me, holding up one hand to shield the sun from her eyes. “You’re arriving at Piraeus at three in the morning. I’d carry a gun too if I had one available.”

  “Soumba’s a liar,” I continued. “He makes up his own versions of history, for Christ’s sake. He’s dangerous. You don’t even know what shit he’s been telling Letta.”

  “Do you always do this?”

  “What?”

  “Get so wrapped up in other people’s problems that you don’t have to think about anything else?”

  “I don’t want history repeating itself, that’s all. Almost the same thing happened back in Squid Bay. I knew who was responsible for Louloudi’s death, but it took me a month of guilt to do anything about it.”

  She didn’t reply. She was watching the horizon. A couple of small boats bobbed in the distance. They were full of giddy tourists on island tours.

  “I can’t find my watch,” I finally said.

  “If I find it, I’ll send it to you.”

  Her tone was neutral, but her eyes were hard.

  “Soumba has no business being police chief,” I continued, pressing my luck. “He’s bad for the island.”

  “Right, Andy. You would understand exactly what’s good for us down here. I’m glad you have all this time to think about Soumba since that way you don’t have to bother wasting your time thinking about me.”

  “Rachel!”

  She stood and slipped into her sandals. “You were happy enough to get into bed with me, but you can’t even imagine seeing me in the States. Your head is all full of how you’re going to fix this island even though you don’t understand the first damned thing about it.”

  “Rachel! I want to do things the right way!”

  She was already walking off the dock, and I had to scramble to catch up with her.

  “Don’t you think that Soumba is dangerous?”

  “Sure, Andy. To himself. Try to make sure he doesn’t jump off the boat.”

  Chapter Thirty One

  For an uncomfortab
le hour, I sat at Nikos’ café while Soumba told jokes that everyone else laughed at. I drank two more coffees even though I was already wired. Rachel refused to sit with me. Instead she situated herself between Lascar and Petros. When I spoke, she pretended not to listen.

  After the ferry finally came into sight, we trooped down towards the pier where our farewells were mitigated by endless hugging and well-wishing. Then for long minutes Soumba and I maintained a conversation with our friends from the top deck of the ferry where we annoyed other passengers by shouting out last words.

  As the ferry pulled away from the port, we waved until our arms grew sore. Soumba maintained his cheerful composure until the dock and our friends were out of sight. “That’s enough of that charade.” He turned towards me enough that I could see the butt of his gun jutting above his belt.

  “You’re carrying a weapon.”

  “Andy! Good eyes.”

  “You don’t usually carry one.”

  The wind pushed his hair across his forehead. “That’s right, Andy. Not usually.”

  “So why now?”

  “You ask a lot of questions. Too many.” Soumba turned back towards Amiros, the outline of which was still visible beyond the angry wake of the boat.

  I backed off a few steps. The ferry was at medium capacity, but there were several decks with the usual assortment of nooks and crannies. Here at the back of the boat, a single gunshot would hardly be heard above the roar of the engine. The boat didn’t have any scheduled stops until Piraeus, the port adjacent to Athens, which was supposed to be twelve hours away if we had decent wind. I felt trapped.

  I descended to the lower level and walked in circles around the deck. The ferry was so hot it was a thermal spa with the so-called pool doubling as a bathtub. The tourists were getting so friendly they were exchanging email addresses while the bartenders did a brisk business in sodas and bottles of cold water. I wanted to be as mindless as the tourists were. I wanted to feel satisfied from having enjoyed a relaxing vacation. Instead my neck muscles were tight because I didn’t know how to protect myself. What are you going to do about it, Surfer Boy?

  When I returned to the upper level, Soumba was still staring at the waves. I stood near him, halfway hoping to initiate a conversation. He ignored me as if I were a regular passenger. I started thinking that maybe Rachel was right; he was waiting for the appropriate moment to pop over the balcony rails. If he wanted to go to that length, he had no reason not to take me with him. For the next three hours, I did nothing but watch Soumba and listen to a Villa-Lobos symphony. I wanted to see land, any land at all, but water surrounded us. I alternated between one side of the boat and the other. I kept Soumba in sight in case he tried anything weird, but the police chief stood still, staring into the sea as if it were a painting that wouldn’t let go of him.