‘Just in time.’
‘For what?’ she asked.
‘Who were Nicole and Holly’s closest friends?’ I asked, stepping back as I had stopped inches from the woman’s roundish face.
‘The ferocious five,’ she scoffed.
‘Excuse me?’
She crunched her knuckles; the hair-raising clicking sound vibrating through the narrow walls. She took out her black, elastic hair band and pulled her short hair back into a mushroom-like ponytail. ‘I blame those brainless American TV movies with the blonde, cool, doltish characters who just want to be popular,’ she said rolling her eyes. ‘The two girls along with Pascale, Karen and Marina drooled over Clueless and Gossip Girl and such, and pretty much looked down on everybody, teachers included. They wore expensive clothes to school and talked about their trips and possessions. Other pupils called them the ferocious five.’
‘Did they bully other pupils?’
‘No, not in the broadest sense of the word. Maybe a few dirty, degrading stares and an adjective or two, but nothing not heard in every other school. For me, bullying is constantly picking on someone, physically or verbally. The girls never targeted anyone specific. They were cold with all of the others.’
I leaned back on the wall, between two paintings depicting fruit bowls. ‘What ever happened to good, old Renaissance replicas and posters?’ My knees were killing me. Even after losing weight, my weak bones could not hold me up for long. ‘How about towards one another? Don’t these cliques usually have a leader?’
‘That would be Nicole. She is the richest out of the five, so I guess that is how their hierarchy is based. I have no idea if bullying occurred within the group or if they had some weird initiation process.’
‘I’ll have to talk to the girls. Thank you, Mrs. Anne. You’ve been a great help.’
‘Just find my girl, Captain,’ she said, turned around and walked off with her palms upon her pale cheeks.
The ship’s Captain was gone from his laid-back position; the door leading out to the upper deck betraying his quick exit for a smoke.
Next door, was the cabin the other three members of the ferocious five shared. The room was tidy and in order. The teens had not had time to unpack most of their possessions. However, all three had unloaded upon their bedside table make-up, fragrances and in the top drawer, their jewelry. Pascale had a marble case with the Eiffel Tower formed on it with Swarovski crystals. Everything inside was silver and platinum. One pair of golden earrings stood out. ‘Could it be?’ I used my latex glove-wearing hand and put the earrings into the nylon bag with the bracelet I found in Nicole’s clothes. I thoroughly checked everywhere else; my hand travelling around. Under Marina’s pure-white pillow, I found a necklace, all tangled up it joined the other two pieces in my evidence bag. Karen’s purse hung inside the empty-from-clothes wardrobe. Inside, between an American Express card and a membership card, lay a ring. H&C, 2016 was engraved inside. ‘Holly and Chris?’ I thought and dropped the ring in with the other precious pieces of jewelry.
I searched the rest of the rooms with the same meticulous method. ‘Boys will be boys,’ I thought with a mischievous grin, as every male pupil had brought condoms with them. Chris had brought condoms with him, too. But, it was not just a first sexual relationship for the youth. He was clearly in-love. Probably defying his mates’ laughter, he had placed a photograph of him and Holly by his bed. The hand-made wooden frame held a picture of two happy, excited, and tanned teens holding hands on a beach with their bare feet being caressed by the ocean.
Chris’s was the last room I searched. I peeped out into the hallway and saw the Captain mesmerized by his phone. He chuckled every now and then. His wife often complained of his ‘YouTube addiction’ –as she called it. ‘He watches the darndest things. People falling over, cats jumping around, even ships sinking!’ she complained to her friends. Here on board, he was free to indulge in his hobby.
I closed the cabin’s door, remaining inside of the room. My bladder yelled for attention and pushed against my insides. I rushed to the cabin’s unfit-for-a-guy-my-size toilet and with one hand on duty, the other flicked through my contact lists. I waited for the drain to silence before dialing Ioli.
‘Well, if it isn’t the sea-dog, himself,’ she said, answering her phone. She tried to sound upbeat, but her voice came across tired and worn-out.
‘You back at the office?’
A moment of silence. ‘Ioli?’ I broke the soundlessness.
‘Err, I’m still on the island. Open and shut case, my fat pregnant ass.’
‘What? What’s going on?’
‘I’ll fill you in back in Athens. Long story,’ she replied, dragging the ‘o’ in long. ‘Special needs prisoned suspect, second dead body, election campaigns. You name it, I’ve got it. Anyway, screw my troubles. You called to gloat? Having fun? How’s Tracy?’
Now, it was my turn to delay to reply. ‘Well, not exactly. I seem to have found myself in a situation as well. I have a missing pupil and a pool of what I think to be animal blood.’
‘How the hell do mysteries work to find you, boss, I do not know. Poor Tracy.’
‘What to do? I must have like an inner magnet or something. Listen, I want a second opinion. We know how a majority of killers take souvenirs from the crime scene or off of the victim. Mostly, serial killers. What are the chances four teenage girls would each take a piece of jewelry of let’s say, a presumed victim? A classmate of theirs.’
‘Near none. Though there is always a first. If so, we are talking about girls with twisted, violent, abusive pasts. Girls that grew up in a way that would lead to this sort of desire. Could, also, be mimicking from a movie or a book.’
‘Could be…’
‘Anyway, you said missing pupil. Not dead. The girls are not killers.’
‘Yet. A staged scene does not mean no crime. The tokens taken intrigue me.’
‘Have you searched the ship? I mean, there are only so many places she could be.’
‘I wanted to search the rooms first. Maybe, find her hiding in her boyfriend’s room or under one of her girlfriends’ beds. I kind of hoped this was all just a prank played on her teachers. I’ll get the security tool to help me search the ship.’
‘Good luck, boss. I would say let the authorities take care of the situation and get back to your wife, but I know you.’
‘I think she is, in a twisted way, happy that I am active. Anyway, I got the bug now. Just like you, pregnant lady. Mark is at home waiting, but there you are.’
‘Bunch of work freaks, that’s what we are.’
We said our goodbyes and our phones returned to silence. I exited the hallway and nodded to the relaxed Captain.
‘Between us, okay? Open the teachers’ rooms, too.’
Chapter 17
Ioli’s stomach retaliated, having been forced to journey along the uphill, bendy, dirt track that served as the lone route to the fifteenth-century church of The Holy Mary. Ioli could feel pieces of chocolate croissant swimming up her esophagus and marching from her neck upwards. Her hand slid across the dusty car buttons in search of the A/C. She pushed it from position three to five and fixed the front grille, allowing the strong, cold air to hit her on her sweating face.
‘You okay?’ Valentina asked, leaning closer to her, yet her eyes on the tricky road.
Ioli smiled, and replied that she was. ‘Just take it a bit slower round the corners,’ she added.
‘You’re doing better than the priest,’ Valentina humored her, making sure she whispered as much as she could. Her mother always warned her that she was lousy at whispering. Her mother had a talent for pointing out all the things Valentina was not good at, in contrast to her father who believed his daughter was a gift to mankind from the Gods. Valentina did not need to worry about her whispering skills-or lack of them. Father Kallinikos sat in the back, next to Alexandro, breathing heavily and biting his long nails every now and then. Alexandro looked upon the man. He could neve
r understand how priests could cope wearing such thick, heavy, black clothes during Greek summer. As a boy, he used to believe that God provided to the Holy Men the ability to not sweat, to not feel the menacing heat. Something along the lines of his favorite superheroes, the X-Men. Now, as an adult, he found it difficult to trust anything the church had to say. He fought daily to convince himself that Christ and the Bible were perfect and their doctrines had nothing to do with ‘the corrupt, unfriendly and judgmental church of today’ as he would say during deep, philosophical discussions with friends.
Even the police vehicle, having gathered more dust on the way up, seemed pleased to have reached the end of the road. The three officers of the law exited the car at once. Maximus leaped to his feet and begun to bark, showing his sharp teeth through ferocious growls. His master had locked the door and tied Maximus to the handle, ordering him to not let anyone in.
The three officers turned to the car. Father Kallinikos remained still.
‘Oh, I’m sorry. My mind is a bit lost,’ he apologized, finally getting out of the car. ‘Maximus, sit!’ he said and silence returned to the treeless hill top. ‘You must think that I am a right scaredy-cat. I believed I was much braver until today. It’s not every day you see a chopped-off head,’ he continued as he dawdled, ambling towards his trusted friend. He untied Maximus and unlocked the door, yet did not open it.
‘It’s on the altar,’ he said and walked away from the church.
‘Thank you, Father,’ Ioli said. ‘You are brave. The unusual reaction would have been to not be upset by such a horrific sight,’ she continued as Father Kallinikos walked over to the stone brick wall that surrounded the church and sat down upon it.
Alexandro had already entered the sacred building, followed by Valentina. Both made a straight line towards Natalie’s head.
Ioli paused upon entering. Her right hand played around with her golden chain with the crucifix her grandma had given her on her eighteenth birthday. She kept it in her pocket at all times. Her mind gave birth to guilt, realizing that she had not stepped into a church since her wedding day.
She walked down the newly-installed, red velvet carpet, her eyes scanning around the wooden chairs. No blood stains could be found.
‘The head must have been carried in a bag or something of the sort,’ she mumbled, her thoughts interrupted by loud clicks echoing from Alexandro’s camera.
The flash startled the flies from their morning feast and their buzzing filled the air.
‘Locked room. No doors and all windows shut tight,’ Valentina said, walking around the room.
Ioli nodded to her and approached the brutally attacked head. ‘So much hate…’ she said, looking at the stabbed eye sockets. ‘The cutting of the head seems to match our knife…’ she continued, her eyes examining the neck wound. Ioli placed her fingers into the dead girl’s opened mouth. ‘Nothing,’ she spoke to herself as if answering inner questions. Ioli looked up and around. ‘Why here? Did the killer wish for forgiveness?’
‘Forgiveness?’ Alexandro asked. ‘By bringing the head?’
‘Maybe it wasn’t forgiveness for himself, but for the victim,’ Ioli replied. ‘Bag the head, I’ll look around the church, then talk to the priest.’
Minutes later, as Alexandro opened the trunk of the car, a lit cigarette hanging from his bottom lip, and Valentina placed the almost empty body bag inside, Ioli walked over to Father Kallinikos.
‘Your eyes seem even more restless than my soul,’ the priest said, turning towards Ioli who had just sat down beside him on the low, dusty, brick wall.
‘Too much thinking,’ she replied, with a smile.
‘Your only thought should be of the life inside you. A gift from above. Congratulations. Your first?’
Ioli nodded and fondly looked down at her stretched out shirt. ‘So, Father, what time did you arrive at the church this morning?’
‘Must have been around seven. Maybe a bit earlier. Not sure how long it took me to walk up here. Normally, takes me around fifty minutes,’ he answered, removing his jet black, wrinkled skufia.
‘And, the church was locked?’
‘Yes.’
‘And, besides you, who else has keys? I did not notice any signs of breaking in.’
An enigmatic smile spread across his face, barely visible among his thick beard. He looked up at the rising sun and wiped his forehead. ‘This is a trustworthy place, if not for the tourists we would not bother locking. Many have keys.’
‘Why?’ Ioli looked up at him. She had just opened her notepad and was ready to write names.
‘The members of the church committee all have keys. They hold their meetings here sometimes. We have churches in the town, but this is our largest and it has offices around the side. Past committee members rarely return their sets of keys…’
‘Do you have a list of the members? Do you keep past lists?’
‘Yes, yes. Of course. But, I know all the members by heart.’
Ioli underlined her title of COMMITTEE MEMBERS in her black pad, placed the tip of her blue pen on the first line and stared at the priest.
‘Oh, err… well, Sakis Stamatiou is the current president…’
‘Sakis, the shoe repairer?’ Ioli interrupted him, her eyes slightly widening.
‘That’s the one. Lovely guy. Amazing character. Have you met?’
‘You could say so… Who else?’
‘My wife is vice-president. I saw her keys this morning, next to mine. The mayor is always on the committee, not that he shows up for most meetings. It’s all mostly for good PR really. Same goes for Helen. Ever since she announced she was running for mayor, she joined the committee and has never missed a meeting. You see, we have a vast number of churchgoers here on the island and they all vote. Now, let’s see. Who else? Oh, Mrs. Maria, the lady you saw, who lives by the station. She is our treasurer. Oh, and poor Mrs. Sophia. What a terrible thing to go through with Adonis. She is our secretary. But, between us, she is our real president. She has the fire of God in her, that one. A true, modern day missionary,’ Father Kallinikos said.
‘Our most hardworking member,’ he continued, his face relaxed, his mind forgetting the terrors of hours’ past. Now, he was just a priest having a talk with a foreigner about the great people of his island.
‘Great! Nearly, all on my suspect list had access to a set of keys!’ Ioli thought.
‘How come she wasn’t voted in for president? Being so hardworking and all,’ Ioli asked, guessing the answer inside her.
Father Kallinikos sat up straight and sighed. ‘Mrs. Sophia is an absolute sweetheart. The most ethical person I have ever met. The way she raises that boy, with all his difficulties. Always with him. It’s not his fault, God made him just the way He intended to, she always says. But, with a high set of morals, comes high standards. Most women find her to be a tad…’
‘Judgmental?’
‘Correct. But, she means well. Her seven decades on this planet do not allow her to accept the modern way of life, especially that of women.’
The young priest sighed again and lowered himself from the wall. ‘Let me go get you the papers with the past committee members. I will put a small cross by the names of those that have passed away. Save you from looking them up.’
‘Anyone could have their keys, though,’ Ioli nearly said her thought out loud. Yet, she replied with a kind ‘Thank you,’ and gazed across the serene horizon where the blue sea ran out and met the clear, turquoise sky.
Chapter 18
Ioli lay fully-clothed on her hotel bed, her eyes set on the crack running along the ceiling, spreading out like a spider’s web around the dangling, yellow-light bulb. She kicked off her black, orthopedic shoes with the not-visible-by-the-naked-eye heel and sighed out loudly. The shoes, dusty and muddy from the church grounds, fell away with a thud to the floor. Ioli unbuttoned a few shirt buttons and wiped the sweat away from under her beige bra. The soft, wet tissue offered much needed relief as it traveled
under her getting-larger-by-the-day breasts.
The wall clock struck twelve. ‘Midday already.’
It had been a long day for Ioli’s unborn boy. From her early rise, to searching the Mayor’s house, to the church and then, coordinating with the coroner’s team who came to collect Mr. Sakis’ corpse and left with an extra head.
Captain Apostolou travelled with the team. A bullnecked, grey-haired man with a thin cigar permanently attached to his dry lips, he came as soon as he opened his morning email and downloaded the content sent by Ioli.
Ioli felt her eyelids retaliating to her overworked mind and soon, they begun to the take the route of gravity. Their short-lived journey came to an end when Ioli’s mind produced one last thought. Her eyes opened wide and with her hands to her sides, she forced herself up. She let the thought swim around for a moment and soon, the puzzle pieces fell into place and her clouds of ideas turned into a storm.
‘Well, well, well. Fuck a duck and see what hatches!’
The pregnant woman leapt off the bed and with speed, slipped her sore, aching feet into her worn-in shoes. She ran into the bathroom to empty her bladder for the fifth time of the day. She splashed some cold water on her face and re-fixed her high ponytail. She gazed into the mirror and studied her eyes. ‘Let’s trust our gut instincts one more time,’ she spoke to herself as if someone else; as if giving a lecture to a newbie on the force.
As her hand wrapped around the chipped, roundish door knob, she realized her exposed underwear. She buttoned her white shirt, cursing as she had to start again. She was left with an extra button on top and an extra hole below.
She paced down the hotel’s hallway, her hand bringing her phone to her ear.
‘Hello? Lieutenant Cara?’ Valentina’s voice came through the speaker.
‘Valentina, where are you?’ Ioli asked the confused girl. She had dropped off Ioli just ten minutes ago.
‘On my way to the station. Thought to complete the paperwork…’ Valentina begun to lie in an effort to sound more professional. She was on her way home. Her mother was cooking her favorite dish, fried squid with oven golden potatoes.
Murder On Display: A riveting, stand-alone murder / mystery that keeps you guessing until the shocking end (Greek Island Mysteries Book 4) Page 13
