It was a mystery to her, something that revolted but also fascinated her. She had to admit that sleuthing with Jasper had been exciting and that she was sorry to see him leave again. But she had a goal now, a charge to look after, beyond her patients. A young woman who was far from disturbed and unbalanced. Who was, as Jasper had put it, resilient. Mrs Valentine was determined to make Damaris smile again, give her a purpose in life. She had money to do anything she wanted and Mrs Valentine would ensure she did wonderful things with it. A Nile cruise perhaps? Another exotic journey?
Whatever it was, it would give Damaris happy memories.
At last.
* * *
The ramp was dragged onto the boat, the motor started chugging, and Jasper waved at them one last time.
Damaris felt a stab of loss watching his tall figure get smaller as the ferry pulled away from the island. She had felt safe with him, safe because of all people he had proven to her that he could be trusted. He had pursued her case until the end, not just unravelling who had been plotting against her for her money but also exposing her mother’s true killer. And Arthur Reynolds’s name had been cleared.
Damaris thought of the moment she had stood at Arthur’s grave with his mother beside her, both staring at the earth, lost in their own thoughts. United in their grief over the loved ones they had lost by Dupin’s cold-blooded killing.
Damaris had looked at the older woman’s sad features, the lone tear on her cheek, and touched her hand a moment. Mrs Murray had looked up at her and they had smiled at each other, a wavering smile of understanding.
Damaris was almost glad she had met her, and had come to see others who had also suffered through her mother’s death. That the repercussions of it had spread in ever wider circles after Arthur’s body had fallen into the waters at the foot of the rocks. So many had been touched by it.
Robin also, coming back to Kalos and looking for revenge. Looking for revenge against the wrong person of course, but still… For grief, for loneliness, for missing a family to grow up in. Damaris could understand that, better than others. She felt a tiny bit of compassion for Robin. Not for Gideon Hawtree or for Teddy, who had merely plotted to get her money.
Teddy.
Her hands clenched the railing as she stood where she had been when arriving at Kalos, happy, full of expectations. He had tied the shawl around her eyes to prevent her from seeing his surprise too soon. She had never felt as she had felt then. But even under that elation the darkness had been there, the loneliness of remembering being so lost as a little child. Now she knew why. Her mother’s murder, being abandoned by her father. Now she could understand it and work through it. Now the darkness was no longer an unknown entity.
In an odd way she was glad she had found out about it all. That she could now wake up from a nightmare and lie very still, shivering, but knowing those responsible would pay for what they had done. Her dear mother’s death was avenged at last.
Her hands on the railing relaxed and she lifted an arm to wave one last time at Jasper. She wasn’t even sure he was still there, watching. Perhaps he had already walked away to sit on a terrace and eat cheese with that sauce he loved so much. She hoped he would have a good time on Kalos. Because it wasn’t an evil place after all. It had known its darkness, but it was cleared up now. In a strange way, even Eureka would have liked that. Justice for the young man in the grave she had visited every single day. Justice for all of them.
“Let’s sit on that bench,” Mrs Valentine said by her side. “I brought some biscuits we can eat and a guide of Athens to look at. You must tell me what you want to see first.’
Damaris tore her gaze away from Kalos. From the memory of the naïve young woman she had been standing on the ferry, aching for a carefree honeymoon with the man who she believed had loved her. She was wiser now, harder. And with the amount of money she possessed she could never be naïve again and just trust people. Especially men. She’d have to be careful and get to know people better, before she simply believed what they said. That they had come into her life to make it all better.
She didn’t need others to make it better now. She had money to travel and see the world. It had so many colours, so many smells, so many tastes. She looked forward to exploring it and learning to laugh again, loud, with her head held back, until tears ran down her cheeks. She wanted to reach out and grab at the experiences, have them fill her head and drown out the sad thoughts and the memories she didn’t care to dwell on.
Some day, though, she would be able to sit down, at the balcony of her hotel in a faraway place where the peddlers cried in the streets below her, and the spicy scents wafted up to her on the warm breeze, and she’d remember her mother and the tea parties in the walled garden of their villa on Kalos, and she’d be able to smile at the memory and smile at the thought of Jasper, who had been suddenly there that night when Teddy had shoved her into the bush. Jasper who had saved her and turned her life around.
He need not have got involved with her troubles. But he had. There were still good people in the world. And she would find them.
Or maybe they would just find her, like Jasper had.
If she had confidence.
If she had faith.
In the others, and in herself.
In her future, which would be better than anything so far had been.
Acknowledgements
As always, I’m grateful to all agents, editors and authors who share online about the writing and publishing process. Special thanks to my fabulous editor Laura McCallen for her enthusiasm for Jasper, to the entire talented Canelo crew for their hard work on this series, and to cover designer Edward Bettison for the glorious cover.
The island of Kalos is fictional but set up to deliver all the elements Greece is famous for: idyllic villages, lemon orchards, delicious food and history that dates back to the days when the great works of Greek literature were written, so that reading the story feels like a mini vacation in a place that is breathtakingly beautiful and at the same time hiding secrets.
The Murder Will Follow series, more than any other I’ve written so far, shows my love of Agatha Christie and the deep joy I derive from reading her stories ever since I discovered her work as a teen. I hope Jasper’s adventures also bring joy to you, reader, and provide a few hours of pure sleuthing fun.
First published in the United Kingdom in 2019 by Canelo
Canelo Digital Publishing Limited
57 Shepherds Lane
Beaconsfield, Bucks HP9 2DU
United Kingdom
Copyright © Vivian Conroy, 2019
The moral right of Vivian Conroy to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781788633666
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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