Murder On Display: A riveting, stand-alone murder / mystery that keeps you guessing until the shocking end (Greek Island Mysteries Book 4)

by Luke Christodoulou

  ‘You okay?’ Valentina asked, standing behind her.

  ‘I’m fine. You know, that woman ‘fine’ that Mark accuses me of hiding so much behind it.’

  ‘So, what would the honest answer be?’

  ‘I’m shit. Dizzy, hot-flashed with a tornado screwing up my stomach. If I was a man, I would lay down for the day and pretend that I was dying,’ she said and both women chuckled. ‘But, I’m a woman and we’ve got to go release Adoni,’ she continued, standing up.

  ‘Release him to whom?’ Valentina wondered, following Ioli to the police car.

  ‘I don’t guess you have social services on the island…’

  ‘We only got a second bus last year,’ Valentina laughed.

  The police car accelerated down the road and the residents of Saint George’s street returned to their every morning chores. Having of course already called and informed friends and family about the events that took place in the house at the end of the road.

  ‘I never asked. How are you coping with all this? I know how quiet these islands can be. Not offering much experience. Bravo on handling things so professionally,’ Ioli said and watched as a smile came to life on Valentina’s tired-looking face.

  ‘If you asked me two days what the most interesting case I had ever handled was, I would have said it was when an owl attacked Christina, the ice-cream lady’s hair. She had walked out of Papadopoulos Hairdresser with a weave Amy Winehouse would be envious of and an owl attacked her.’

  ‘An owl?’ Ioli asked, turning to the driver.

  ‘It probably thought her hair brooch was a rat or something and shot down from the sky. Of course, it got its legs caught up in the fake hair. She screamed and screamed, running from door to door. I shouted to her to lay down and stay still as my dad held the bird and I cut her hair. I was quite the local hero for a month or two.’

  Ioli laughed and gazed outside the window as they drove down a different colored road. Purple, green and brown doors broke the monotonous blue.

  ‘I miss stories from small villages,’ she said, with melancholy echoing behind every word.

  ‘Really?’

  ‘I grew up on a farm house on the outskirts of Chania. I had the best of both worlds. The exciting city and the small community. Both my parents were from small villages and I loved listening to their odd stories.’

  The car turned East and the strong sun rays attacked the car; their sunglasses weak to protect them. ‘I think you are going to have a few stories of your own to tell after Folegandros. Look,’ Valentina said, pointing towards the crowd of around thirty that had gathered outside the police station.

  The car passed by them, bringing silence to the gossiping group. The mayor, the priest, Helen AKA the aspiring ‘mayor’, Mrs. Maria, the neighbor; the tragic figure of the shoemaker’s wife -held by her son; locals from the square; all the people that Ioli had met over the past two days.

  Ioli smiled as politely as she could manage and entered the station. Valentina remained outside, answering multiple questions that were shot at her. Mrs. Maria stood by her, her mind lost in deep thought. Her eyes travelled from Adonis who appeared on the top step of the station to her empty house. Childless, it had been near a decade since she lost her husband.

  Ioli had her hand around Adonis’ shoulder. The boy was shaken by the news of his grandmother’s arrest. Ioli looked at the set of eyes all fixed upon her. In Greek fifty-movies style, she addressed the crowd.

  ‘Adonis is free and cleared of all charges. Know from now on that in no way did he have anything to do with the deaths of Natalie or Mr. Sakis,’ Ioli said, fearing the dirty looks the boy would receive for life upon the island. Many had already portrayed him as a killer. No ‘innocent until proven guilty’ on Aegean rocks. She paused unsure how to continue.

  ‘Adonis, I have good news for you,’ Valentina spoke and approached the young man. ‘Mrs. Maria wishes for you to go live with her.’

  ‘I need the company,’ Mrs. Maria added, a sincere, large smile gracing her face.

  The boy looked unsure; his eyes fixed on the ground. ‘I want my nanna,’ Ioli heard him whisper from behind closed teeth.

  ‘Well, on behalf of our small community I believe great thanks are in hand to the officers…’ the mayor begun speaking loudly and took a few steps forward as to be seen by all. Mrs. Helen rolled her eyes. ‘I can’t believe he is going to turn this into some sort of success on his behalf,’ she told her daughter who stood behind her chewing gum, thinking how she would rather be at home watching her favorite show than here with her nagging mother.

  The mayor walked up to Ioli continuing his pompous speech. He avoided shaking Ioli’s hand; her icy look keeping him away.

  ‘… a happy end to a tragic story…’

  ‘A happy end to all, but you, mayor,’ Captain Apostolou interrupted his speech, passing through the crowd that seemed to be growing larger as the news traveled around town. He took out his pair of handcuffs, spat his cigarette to the ground and placed his right hand upon his gun. ‘I have a warrant for your arrest.’

  ‘My… my arrest? What for? Sophia has been arrested…’ the mayor spoke, maintaining his speech tone.

  ‘For drug trafficking,’ the captain replied. The mayor’s face froze on the spot. ‘We have all the evidence we need, found on your home computer.’

  ‘Now, that’s a happy ending,’ Ioli said as the police captain locked the mayor’s hands in the cuffs.

  ‘Indeed,’ Helen said, her entire body gloating.

  I wish I could say that this was indeed a story with a happy ending.

  But life is not one for fairness and ‘should haves’.

  Adonis never stopped asking for his grandmother. As Mrs. Maria placed her hand gently around his and invited him into her home for chocolate cake, Adonis let out an animal-like scream. He pulled away and ran down the street, ignoring the calls from his fellow villagers to come back. Ioli rushed behind him, panting, her right hand under her tummy.

  ‘Take it easy, I’ll catch him,’ Valentina told her and remembering her high school track days, she chased the youth until he reached the caldera. Valentina cautiously took steps towards Adoni who was standing on the wall, looking down the two-hundred meter drop.

  ‘Adoni, relax. You will see your grandma soon. Come down from there. You know Mrs. Maria. She is a kind, old lady and an amazing cook…’

  ‘All… my life… people have called me dumb… I… I know Nanna is going to prison,’ he yelled. ‘I have no one,’ he added calmer now, and those were the last words he ever spoke. He let his body fall, disappearing from Ioli’s eyesight as she arrived behind Valentina. Exhausted, she knelt to the ground and cried.

  Mrs. Sophia heard the news an hour later.

  Her body and mind could not cope with Adonis’ loss and a stroke left her comatose. A second stroke during the night finished her off.

  A deadly ending to a murderous cycle.

  Chapter 22

  ‘Case closed. Big fuck up. Waiting for police ferry to get off this damn island. Hope things are better your way. Kisses to Tracy.’

  Ioli’s message read like a telegraph when I awoke that morning. I did not bother to reply as much was on my mind. I rushed to breakfast, noticed Chris missing and went to the Captain’s office to interrogate the four girls.

  Now, Roberto stood opposite me, informing me that Chris was still in Ermoupoli, back in Syros.

  I picked up my phone and dialled Ioli.

  ‘Please still be there, please still be there,’ I talked to myself as I walked out of the office, past evil-eyed Nick and into the long hall.

  ‘Yeah, boss?’ Ioli’s voice came through after what seemed to be centuries.

  ‘Where are you?’

  ‘Folegandros. I’m getting ready to leave. Didn’t you get my text?’

  ‘Thank God. Listen, I know it may be much to ask for you, pregnant, tired and all, but get the ferry to come get me from Sifnos.’

  ‘What? Why? Wha
t’s wrong? Why do you want to go back to Athens? Aren’t you feeling okay?’

  ‘We aren’t going Athens. We are going to Syros to pick up a boy. We are going to solve my case as well,’ I shouted into the phone. Joy, testosterone, excitement; I could not tell. But my heart was glad to be back in the game.

  The cruise ship entered the bay and approached Kamares beach, one of the finest beaches not only Sifnos, but the entire group of Cyclades had to boast. It’s turquoise, swimming-pool-clear waters enticed the passengers to dive in. Blown-up boats were prepared by the crew for passengers wishing to enjoy shallower waters and lay on the sandy beach. ‘A perfect option for kids and sun-soakers,’ the Captain defined it.

  The Captain, also, thanked me a dozen times for calling the police ferry and avoiding the commotion of the ship turning back to Syros. Truth be told, the ferry would take a fifth of the time. Tracy, on the other hand, was not that thrilled.

  ‘Baby, you will sunbathe for a couple of hours, have a swim and I’ll be back. Sit with those chatty ladies that we met last night. I’ll be back before you know it,’ I promised.

  Tracy crossed her arms and her eyes shot me straight in the face.

  ‘You better be back on time, Papacosta or I will be sitting with the young, tall Brazilian guy we also met on board. Pedro, I think he was called.’

  I smiled and kissed her on her sealed lips. ‘See you in three hours, tops.’

  ‘Go. Get. Go be the hero, babes.’

  At that moment, the loud engine of the crashing-through-the-waves speed boat of the police was heard and we turned to see it approaching the ship from a distance. We stood in the ship’s open cavity that served to unload cargo. The ferry swayed and came to our side. Ioli stood opposite us, her hair blowing in the wind.

  ‘Darling, you are the most fabulous-looking pregnant girl on the high seas,’ Tracy jokingly shouted.

  ‘Tell that to the crew who just saw me puke all over their deck!’

  I stood there with a smile. It never seized to amaze me, how much I missed her. To stand once again side by side heading to solve a case was a main ‘keep-going’ goal, during my fight with cancer.

  I kept Ioli up to date on what was going on and who Chris was.

  ‘So he was supposed to meet the girl?’

  ‘It seems that way. A teen elopement story…’

  The waves crashed ferociously against the ferry and fat drops of water splashed against us. Soon, the compact town of Ermoupoli rose from the horizon, shining under the blazing sun. I called Chris on his cell phone and instructed the upset boy to meet us at the dock.

  The lanky youth paced up and down the dock with his hands sunk deep in his beige shorts’ pockets, raising his head every now and then at the boat.

  ‘Chris, I am Captain Papacosta. We met on board. This is my partner, Lieutenant Ioli Cara.’

  The word partner sent shivers down my spine. I felt as if I had not missed a day away.

  The three of us sat down on a cozy, wooden, green bench by the sea. Ioli brought over cold beverages from the small kiosk across the road. She, also, brought an extra large bag of jelly babies.

  ‘Chris, we know that it was animal blood in Holly’s cabin. Were you two planning to run off together?’

  He nodded his head and wiped his nose with his hand. ‘We were supposed to meet behind the administration building. You know, the big one, in front of the square. I waited for hours. She never showed.’

  ‘Why all the blood and staging?’ Ioli asked, swallowing her third jelly baby. A helpless yellow one.

  Chris gazed at the ever-moving ocean. ‘Holly said she needed to escape her life. Her mother. I never knew she meant me, too,’ he said, picked up a round, white pebble and threw it with force into the high waves.

  ‘She wanted people to think she was dead?’ I asked.

  ‘Exactly,’ he replied and threw another pebble. A black one this time. ‘She Googled all about it. How to stage your death. We planned this for months. Bought pig’s blood and everything. She wanted to be declared dead.’

  ‘Why the jewelry?’

  ‘Revenge. She knew it was a long shot, but she wished the four cows, that’s what she called them, to be blamed for her death. I helped her and she ditched me. Left me standing here like a fool.’

  ‘What was going to be your plan? I mean, you were going to leave your life behind, too,’ I asked.

  ‘My plan? My parents don’t give a shit about me. I was going to call them and tell them that my girlfriend died and I was so devastated that I was going to take a year or two off to travel. My mum never wanted Holly with me anyway. A white girl. She always moaned how these white girls were taking good black men. And my dad? He would be glad to have his fuck-up son out of his way. He deposits me five thousand Euro per month as my allowance. Plenty for me and Holly to live happily somewhere exotic.’

  ‘How will Holly live, now? Did she have money? Where did you plan on going next?’

  Chris shook his head. ‘No money. Her bitch of a mother checked where every last Euro was spent. As for where we were going, Holly always dreamt of Japan. She was fascinated by their culture. We were going to pay a fisherman to take us to the Turkish shores. Holly bought us fake passports off the internet. You can order anything these days. And from Turkey, Japan.’

  And there it was. The plan of a girl in pain.

  Our plan was simple. Get the coastguard to check all fishing boats, interrogate all local fishermen, have the local police search the island with photos of Holly and inform the Turkish authorities to stop a Miranda Smith, aged eighteen; Holly’s fake passport according to Chris.

  The case was assigned to Captain Nerantzi of Ermoupoli police department.

  I returned to Tracy’s tanned body and Ioli to Mark’s arms, back in Athens. Her much deserved maternity leave began the second she stepped off the police ferry.

  Every day, I hoped for news. News that never came.

  Even when we returned home after our ten-day cruise, I still anticipated a resolution. I call Ermoupoli’s police every day and received the same answer of ‘nothing new’ and ‘no sign of the girl’.

  ‘I wish life was sometimes a movie or a book and there was a happy fairy-tale ending to Holly’s story,’ I told Tracy as she unpacked our luggage and I fell, face-down, upon our king-sized bed.

  ‘I’m sure everything will turn out just fine in the end,’ Tracy said and lay upon my back.

  Her words could not be further from the truth.

  Chapter 23

  Athens – Three months later

  September, or as I prefer to call it, ‘the fourth summer month’, finally came to an end and gave place to a cooler, likable October. Rain was of course still out of the question, yet scattered clouds defied the mighty sun and fought to cover the gloomy sky. October the eighth was a glorious day. I returned to active duty. I left home in a hurry and silently, as to not wake Tracy. She would have made a big deal out of it. Yet, it was a big deal. A peculiar feeling floated in me. I was a cancer survivor. On one hand, you want to feel proud and mighty for your accomplishment, on the other guilt and weird thoughts take over. Why me? Out of all the thousands that die daily, why did I survive? Why not the mother of three? Why not the nine-year-old boy?

  I drove my Audi into the underground parking of police headquarters and waved to the group of officers smoking by the elevator; like not a day had passed. The only difference was the wider-than-before smiles I received.

  I stood alone as the metal cage lifted me up. The mirror opposite me revealing the sweat on my forehead. Anxiety mixed with joy. I wiped the salty droplets away and smiled at the few hairs growing out of my scalp. Ding. The doors opened and I turned to exit on the floor that housed homicide. I found myself below a huge WELCOME BACK CAPTAIN sign and opposite a crowd of clapping co-workers. On the bright side, they had bought galatompoureko, the King of all things sweet, here in Greece.

  October the ninth decided to challenge the previous day and become more
memorable in my mind’s inner calendar. I sat in my corner office and was reading old cases from the previous year, slightly disappointed at the lack of clapping and cakes this time around.

  Suddenly, my phone went into earthquake mode and began trembling across my desk. Tracy’s winsome face with her endearing little grin flashed on the screen.

  ‘Hey, babe. Wake up okay?’

  ‘The baby is coming!’ Tracy yelled.

  ‘Really? Okay… err…’

  ‘Just leave work and get your ass down to the clinic. I’m on my way, now. Love you,’ she said and I pictured her running out the house to catch the bus.

  I grinned as I closed the office door behind me. Second day back and I was already taking a day off.

  Miles away, in a two-story private hospital, Mark drove into his parking space. First time not rushing to his office, but to the gynecology department. A nurse waited for them, wheelchair by her side.

  ‘Oh, for fuck’s sake, Markie. I can walk, you know,’ Ioli complained, her hands steady upon her ready-to-explode tummy.

  ‘Yes, but you don’t have to,’ he replied and leaped out of the car, running to her side. He wheeled his wife through the glass doors and turned right.

  ‘Everything is gonna be just fine. Great even,’ he said.

  ‘Talking to me or yourself?’ Ioli commented, in a more relaxed manner.

  Mark chuckled and replied ‘To myself of course. You are a monster of serenity.’

  ‘Now, that’s a new one. I will remind you of that next time you cry that I drive you crazy and how women are the root of all evil.’

  Even the nurse could not resist laughing.

  By the time Tracy and I entered the hospital, Ioli was in the delivery room, being told to push by Dr Eva Karezi. We waited patiently outside.

  ‘You know…’ I said, ‘when I was a kid, I used to think that the delivery room was somewhere food was prepared for takeaways.’

  Tracy shook her head and sighed. ‘I expect nothing less from you, dear. The majority of your mind is occupied by thoughts of food.’

  I placed my hand upon hers and squeezed it. ‘Remember…’