‘I’m not stupid, Mark. I would not risk our baby,’ Ioli said and sat down on the bed, her eyes watching a moth flying around the strong-light bulb dangling from the ceiling.
‘Well, you did take this case.’
‘Hit me when I’m down why don’t you? You know what? Screw you, Mark and thanks for the support.’
She lowered her hand, listening to his reply fading, and ended the call. Her screen went dark and she covered her mouth, releasing a muted scream. Her phone came back to life, vibrating besides her. Mark’s smiling face and his deep dimples that she loved, appeared on the screen. She hesitated for a few seconds and finally picked up.
‘What?’
‘You could not have guessed that the case would require you to stay. Sorry. But, when you get back, you’re taking time off and not going back after your maternity leave ends.’
‘I hate your buts after you say something right. I’ll leave when I want to leave. I don’t intervene in your work, doctor.’
‘That’s different. You risk your life daily and at the moment, you are carrying another life with you. Our son. I think I get a say in that. Besides, you will be back to work in no time. I don’t understand why…’
‘Lieutenant promotions are next month. I’m sure, I will be promoted from B to Lieutenant A. I don’t want to give anyone any excuses. There are only going to be three openings.’
‘And then? Dedicated your life to work, to become a Captain? And then? Baby, we are starting a family. When did you turn so career-oriented?’
‘Since I’ve been doing this for fourteen years and I deserve it. I hate you implying that I will take time away from my family. My family will be my number one priority. But, my job is my job. I love it and I deserve this. Anyway, I can’t do this right now. I’m tired. All’s good. Stop worrying. Talk tomorrow,’ she said in a rush, closed the phone and fell back on the uncomfortable pillow.
Tears formed in the corners of her eyes. ‘Fucking hormones,’ she said, wiping them away and turning off the light.
Chapter 15
Father Kallinikos awoke before the sun.
His inner clock worked better than a Swiss Breitling. Under the sound of his wife’s blithely snoring and in total darkness thanks to his light-hating other half’s blinds, he wore his black rasa, vestment and placed his kalimavkion on his going-bald head. He sneaked out the room, closing the door silently behind him. None of his six kids heard him and that for Father Kallinikos was truly a blessing. The last thing he needed at such an hour were requests for water or worse, to come and play. He entered his humble kitchen, grabbed two slices of Greek homemade bread, two juicy peaches, a tin of chicken-flavored dog food and a bottle of iced water. He, then, thanked God for another day on Earth and exited the side door, whistling happily to the tune of Byzantine hymns. His faithful Labrador sprang up and ran to him, maniacally jumping around him and licking his fingers.
‘Good morning, Maximus. Who’s a good boy? Who’s a good boy, eh? Where’s your lead? Go get your lead. Quickly.’
The white Labrador with the fair haired back and the black sock on his front left leg, ran into his wooden home and dashed out with his walking rope in his drooling mouth.
By the time the pair of friends exited the white-painted, wooden fence, the first sun rays had sneaked through the gaps between houses and illuminated the dark, paved road. Father Kallinikos stopped his stroll, scratched his thick, long, black beard and took a moment to gaze into the rising sun. He breathed in the fresh morning air that traveled carrying the scent of the ocean and again, thanked the Lord for another day. He turned his head towards the hill that rose beside the town. A long, snakelike, dirt road climbed the dried-up, mountainous region, ending outside the church of the Virgin Mary. Panagia, as she is referred to by the Greeks. Built to overlook the good citizens of Chora, it was mostly used for special occasions, weddings and christenings. The three churches in town were used for Sunday mass. The Cycladic church had breathtaking, unobstructed views of the cliff, the town and the Aegean sea. It was no surprise that it had turned into a must-see location for visitors to the small island. This fact was the main reason that Father Kallinikos had locked the church door for the last six years or so. The church council did not trust tourists to refrain from damaging or stealing the sacred building and its priceless, historical possessions. Many elderly women on the committee commented on the lack of clothing noticed on the ‘females from abroad’.
Father Kallinikos took his time to enjoy the scenic route. He had all the time in the world or so he wished to believe. The church council meeting was at nine and he wanted to prepare his office. He was also looking forward to an hour of praying without being interrupted by one of his offspring.
Forty-five minutes later, he pulled out his set of keys from his deep pocket and approached the gargantuan front door. With the strength of his youthful age of thirty-two, he pushed the heavy door, did the sign of the cross and entered the capacious church. The incense tickled his nose as it lingered in the confined air.
‘Stay!’ he ordered Maximus, and entered the side room which served as his office. Soon, he reappeared with a metal bowl filled with dog food in his right hand. He laid the food in front of the canine, expecting him to devour his breakfast as usual. The dog did not move a muscle.
‘What’s wrong, boy?’ he asked, noticing the dog’s focused gaze towards the altar. There was nothing Father Kallinikos could see. He began to walk towards the iconostasis when Maximus started to bark frantically. Kallinikos stopped and stared at his friend. He had never acted this way and having faith in his canine senses, he did something he hoped the ladies of the church committee would never find out; he called Maximus into the church. The dog took hesitant steps as he entered the once forbidden grounds. He turned to check with his master.
‘Go on, boy. What’s wrong?’
Maximus ran along the red carpet and entered the sanctuary, howling wolf-like cries.
‘God forgive me,’ Kallinikos said, witnessing the animal entering the Holy space. Alarmed by his dog’s peculiar behavior, he once again did the sign of the cross and quickly ran towards Maximus. The dog exited the sanctuary and came to his side.
‘Oh, dear Lord,’ he gasped. The dog’s mouth and nose were red. ‘Is that blood?’ he asked and slowly took heavy steps towards the altar behind the icons. Lost for words, he fell to his knees. Natalie’s sawed-off head lay in the middle of the table, both her eyes severely stabbed; rigor-mortis leaving her mouth opened eternally in shock. The flies walking along her tongue and the bloody skin tissue that was once attached to the rest of her body would from now on remain engraved in Father Kallinikos’ mind. Not a fan of anything modern, he ran back to his office to call the police. Panting and sweating, he picked up the receiver and realizing that the line was dead, Father Kallinikos did something he had never done before in church.
‘Shit!’ he cursed.
Meanwhile, in town Ioli had also risen before the sun. She did not want her warrants to go to waste or give the Mayor any chance to destroy evidence. She rallied Alexandro and Valentina at the station at seven o’clock sharp.
As the station’s door opened, Ioli rushed to the fax machine, while Valentina ran to the coffee maker. Alexandro left the door opened and proceeded to open the two windows, letting the last cool air of the day float into the room. Soon, the heat would be verging on unbearable. He then picked up Andrea’s broken e-cigarette from the floor.
‘I have considered taking up vaping. You know, there have more flavors than freaking ice-creams. Coconut, cookie and cream, all fruit. A mate of mine even smokes beer-flavored vape,’ he said as he placed it on the desk, his eyes focused on Valentina. ‘It surely beats plain old, bitter tobacco smoke, right?’
‘I believe our vices should leave a bitter taste in our mouths. The damage is the main part of smoking and drinking, is it not?’ Valentina replied, her eyes focused on her coffee-making task.
‘Not here yet,’ Ioli said havi
ng checked the fax machine, and sat back into the office chair behind her, wheeling back a foot or two. ‘Where are those croissants you picked up from the kiosk?’ she asked Alexandro, who stood by the doorway, ready to enjoy his second cigarette of the day.
‘Oh, yeah,’ he said, and dashed outside to bring the forgotten bag from the car.
Soon, all three were enjoying a strong, Greek coffee accompanied with a chocolate croissant. Their breakfast in silence was interrupted by the screeching sound of the fax machine coming to life.
‘At last,’ Ioli mumbled, her mouth full with the third croissant. She leaped out of her chair and stood above the exiting pieces of paper.
‘Valentina, you will go to Mrs. Sophia’s house. Alone. Be as thorough as you can. This time, look everywhere. In wardrobes, the kitchen, closets, everywhere. Adonis is still our main suspect. Alexandro and I, will take on the much larger Mayor’s house. We need to find evidence of his relationship with Natalie, but also…’ she said and paused to swallow the last piece of chocolate filling. She, then, turned to Alexandro ‘… I will need you, to check his office computer and files while I distract him. Our case is Natalie and Mr. Sakis, of course, however, if we find anything to help the investigation behind his dodgy business that would be a great help.
Inside his cell, Adonis stood wide awake, listening in. He did not understand much and was intrigued by the new word warrant. His attention was drawn away from the conversation as a crawling cockroach ran by his bare foot.
‘Eww,’ Adonis said in disgust, his gaze following the insect racing around the room in circles before finally bee lining towards the toilet in the corner.
Adonis chuckled. ‘Oh, yeah. I didn’t pee when I got up.’
He looked down at his bulge in his Winnie the Poor underwear and giggled again. ‘Morning erections are normal, says Granny,’ he spoke to himself in a whispery manner. ‘Good… blood something,’ he continued as he lowered his boxer shorts to the floor, and took his penis in his hand. ‘Yeah… very normal… try peeing with it, nan!’ he said as he tried to pee in the toilet. His laughter was heard outside.
‘Guess he is up. I’ll take him some juice and something to eat before heading to Mrs. Sophia’s house,’ Valentina said.
‘Meet us at the Mayor’s house when you’re done,’ Ioli commented and with a nod to Alexandro, walked out the door, warrant in hand.
‘See you later,’ Alexandro said with a wide smile to Valentina. ‘Your coffee was great.’
‘Thanks,’ she said and turned away, presumably to prepare breakfast for their prisoner.
Ioli and Alexandro were going to take the lone police vehicle. Valentina had proposed it, stating that the mayor’s house was further in distance, however, Alexandro knew she had given her car because of Ioli’s pregnancy.
‘She knew such a statement would provoke the wrath of the mainland Lieutenant. She has a good heart, that one,’ Alexandro thought as he started the engine. A man who enjoyed being called a ‘player’ from those close to him and with quite a few notches on his headboard, he could not truly understand his fascination with the girl from Folegandros. His mama had warned him about these feelings.
‘Be careful. Going from girl to girl, you are going to miss the right one,’ his father had commented, after he announced that he had broken up with his latest girlfriend.
‘Don’t worry, dear,’ his mother had said. ‘When he meets the right one, his heart will turn and twist, and he will be helpless at her feet,’ she continued, throwing a wink at her son.
Ioli’s voice cut his daydreaming about the past.
‘You know; I never did ask you. What made you become a cop?’
Alexandro’s reason fell into Ioli’s category of a good story.
‘I must have been seven or eight at the time. I went with my mother to the supermarket and as a spoiled child, I got to throw into the trolley a bunch of chocolates and sweets. I guess that is what shocked me most with the little girl crying in the aisle. All she wanted was a packet of biscuits. Her father spoke so viciously towards her. He spat as he yelled no. ‘It’s just biscuits, daddy’, she said and he slapped her so hard, the poor girl banged against the hard shelves and split her lip. ‘See what you get, when you’re naughty’, he said and did nothing to help her get up. I was shocked to see that no one did anything. No one went to help, no one spoke. I felt that the girl was helpless, so I rushed to her side and picked her up,’ Alexandro said and then smiled. ‘I gave that mean old bastard such a dirty look,’ he continued. ‘What you looking at?’ Alexandro mimicked the man’s voice. ‘A bully,’ I replied. ‘A malaka that hits kids. You should be arrested!’, I yelled. I think he would have smacked me, too, if my mother had not run over and apologized. ‘Don’t ever hurt her again’, I continued yelling as my mother pulled me away. The girl’s smile was the best thing I took home with me that day. I was grounded for a week, but it was worth it. Since then, I set my mind on protecting the innocent. Okay, back then, I had pictured it more along the lines of a vigilante, like Bruce Wayne. As I was a couple of billion short of becoming Batman, I settled on being a cop,’ he said, finishing his story with a gloating grin.
‘Wow, that’s a wicked story,’ Ioli commented.
Alexandro remained silent for the rest of the drive, reliving the supermarket moment in his mind.
Alexandro’s preoccupation with his thoughts came to an end as he turned uphill and entered the road with the rows of palm trees. The grand manor welcomed them with a tall, locked gate.
‘Expected,’ Ioli said, and stepped out of the running vehicle. She approached the white painted gate and pressed the intercom button built into the brick wall. No reply came. Ioli stared into the two cameras towering her from the columns by the side of the gates. She wondered if the mayor was looking at her at that very moment and not opening the fancy gate. She pressed the button again.
‘Yes, yes. Who is it? Stop ringing, pleased,’ a woman’s voice came through the speaker, loud and clear and in broken English.
‘This is Lieutenant Ioli Cara,’ she introduced herself, showing her badge into the camera. ‘Police,’ she added.
‘Come back later, Madame. Boss asleep now.’
‘This is the police. I don’t care who’s asleep, you open this gate right now or I will be forced to shoot it open and then arrest you for obstruction of justice!’
Inside, Rashmi Singhe bit her bottom lip. Her eyes were focused on the lady waving her police badge. Leaving Sri Lanka two years ago at the tender age of eighteen, the anxiety of what she would find in Greece was high. She had heard from compatriots of hers about living in isolated villages having to take care of seniors, including their baths and toilet visits, having to take care of spoiled little rich brats that bullied and ordered them around, and she had even heard of a few cases of abuse and sexual harassment. Much to her delight, she arrived at the charming and quaint island of Folegandros, to work at the most luxurious house she had ever laid eyes upon. She had her own room, bath and kitchen. Nothing like sharing a room with her three sisters back in Dambulla. Her joy continued when she realized there were no kids or seniors in the house. ‘A normal family of three,’ she had thought at the time. But time went by and Rashmi, though enjoying the good life, realized the family that employed her, was far from normal. She was closer to becoming an astronaut than this family was to being normal. She lived with three living clichés or at least that was what her reality TV shows had taught her. The teenager hated her parents, ignored them all day with her headphones glued into her ears, smoked weed in her room and climbed out her window at nights. The wife spent money like there was no tomorrow, had no idea where the kitchen was in her house and slept with the gardener, the pool boy and any other boy with a six-pack that complimented her. The husband was no better when it came to respecting his wedding vows. He, also, had a thing for sleeping with people half his age. ‘His latest mistress could not be older than his own daughter,’ she had gossiped with her mother over the ph
one after seeing Natalie leave the master bedroom. The not normal part came from the boss’ visitors. Visitors than always came around midnight. Characters you wished you never bumped into in a dark alley. They either came with wrapped-up packages and left with briefcases filled with cash or came with cases and left with packages. Rashmi knew well that no legal business took place at such hours, so having a police officer at the gates came to no surprise. The dilemma, though, did. She wasn’t expecting to get caught in the middle of it all. Should she first awake her boss and risk being arrested? Or should she open the gate, cooperate with police and then wake her boss?
‘Excuse me?’ Ioli’s angry voice made her jump.
Rashmi wiped away her forehead’s cold sweat and chose to open the gates. As she watched the police officer return to her car and drive up the gravelled road that led up to the majestic fountain of Apollo, outside the house’s entrance, Rashmi felt her blood run thicker in her veins. She dashed upstairs in a hurry to wake the mayor. She slid on the shiny, marble stairs and fell forward. Reflexes kicked in and her hands saved her face from hitting the hard ground, only inches away. She stood up in a hurry and continued her run to the master bedroom’s door.
‘Oh, I hope he doesn’t have some underage girl in there with him,’ she whispered to herself in Sinhalese. She knocked on the door, violently, unlike her discreet maid’s knocking. It took a while before a grunt from inside the room was heard. She opened the carved, pine-wood door only a few inches and kept with her eyes turned the other way. The boss had the habit of sleeping in the nude on top of the sheets. She learned that information the hard way; a lesson of ‘show and don’t tell’ of sorts.
‘What the hell, Rashmi? It’s fucking night time still!’
‘The police are at the door, ordering me to let them in,’ she said; her voice closing with every other word.
‘Tall, pregnant lady with straight black hair?’ he inquired, sitting up and searching for his Versage boxer shorts.
Murder On Display: A riveting, stand-alone murder / mystery that keeps you guessing until the shocking end (Greek Island Mysteries Book 4) Page 11
