The Church Murders: A stand-alone thriller (Greek Island Mysteries Book 2)

by Luke Christodoulou

‘We have a warrant for your son’s arrest,’ I shocked the father.

  ‘Andrew Kontou, you are requested to follow us to the station with a guardian, for further questioning. Refusal will lead to your arrest. Please, follow me to the patrol car.’

  His mother started crying, shaking her head from side to side. ‘Stop them,’ she cried out to her husband.

  ‘Call your mother, to come get the kids now. We are following them to the station. Control yourself for the children’s sake.’

  Ioli opened the back door and helped Andrew in. The boy was shaking all over. Sweat formed all over his forehead. By the time, we reached the station, his blue T-shirt had stuck to his back and two pools of bodily fluids had taken shape under his armpits.

  We escorted him to questioning room A. Weird name for a questioning room as the building had no other questioning rooms. I brought in more chairs in anticipation of his parents.

  ‘Do you want anything to drink, Andrew?’ Ioli asked. He shook his head, keeping his eyes glued to the white tile floor. ‘Try to relax,’ she said, forcing a smile.

  Constable Christina opened the door and in flew his mother, ready for her fifties-style, Greek movie scene.

  ‘My boy, my sweet boy, you OK?’ She hugged and kissed him on both cheeks.

  ‘Mum, cut it out.’ He turned a light shade of red. His father touched his son gently on the shoulder and sat down beside him. His mother took a second to stare around the room, before sitting down.

  ‘Andrew we checked out your alibi...’ I began to say.

  ‘I was at the park! Didn’t my friends tell you that?’

  ‘Boy, let the man speak,’ his father ordered him, anxious to hear what I was going to say.

  ‘Yes, you were at the park. But witnesses have all of your gang leaving at various times and no one could confirm that you were there from beginning to end.’ His fingers came together and turned into fists. His breathing got louder.

  ‘I was there.’ He emphasized every word of his short statement.

  ‘Were you married when Andrew was born?’ Ioli asked, catching his parents off guard.

  ‘Excuse me?’ George Kontou asked.

  ‘What kind of question is that?’ Maria Kontou managed to ask. She was as pale as the white walls.

  ‘The kind of question that requires an answer.’

  ‘Yes, we were.’

  ‘In what year of your marriage was Andrew born?’ Ioli continued.

  ‘Erm... What has any of this...’

  ‘Can you answer the question, sir?’

  ‘Six months after our wedding. Maria was three months pregnant on our wedding day.’

  ‘Do any of you, know Christo Riga?’

  Andrew’s breathing got louder, his face acquired the coloring of a juicy, freshly cut tomato and his mother looked ready to pass out. Her eyes opened wide and her stare went from us to her husband like she was watching a ping-pong match.

  ‘Who? The fisherman? I see him a couple of times at the coffee shop. What has he got to do with any of this?’ the clueless man answered.

  ‘Do you know him, Mrs. Kontou?’ Ioli threw the question at the distraught woman.

  Maria Kontou sat there, staring right at Ioli, lost for words.

  ‘Mrs. Kontou?’

  ‘I... I know him by name. We are a small island. Not like Athens here. We know each other...’ she started mumbling away.

  ‘So you have never met before?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Mrs. Kontou. Christo Riga is an eye witness in a murder case. If we have reason to believe he gave false testimony, then we are obliged to check out the reasons why. We could even order a DNA test, if we have too,’ Ioli said, lying through her teeth. Such a thing would be extremely difficult, but Ioli knew this was how we would get results.

  ‘A DNA test?’ George asked.

  ‘This is outrageous! You cannot do such a thing, you have no right, I will never allow it!’ Maria shouted, standing up. Ioli sat back in her chair. She had accomplished her mission.

  George stared at his wife. ‘Maria?’ His voice was shaking. Andrew started to cry.

  ‘Maria? What are you hiding?’ He stood up and faced his wife. ‘Speak to me!’

  She had frozen. She could not utter a single word.

  ‘Dad, please...’

  ‘Don’t you please me, boy. Maria, you better start talking or I swear to God, I will strangle you right here, in the police station.’

  ‘Mama, don’t...’

  ‘George, I love you, You are my all. I can’t stand this dirty secret any longer. My father arranged our marriage. Christo was my lover at the time. When I found out that I was pregnant, I swear I believed the baby was yours. But, look at him...’ She did not manage to say anything else. She watched as all love vanished from her husband’s eyes. A cold, distant look painted his face.

  ‘You disgust me. Are any of the children mine?’

  ‘George! I have never been unfaithful to you! I conceived Andrew before us. You think it was easy for me to forget, from one day to the next, my boyfriend at the time and start dating a new man, picked by my father?’

  ‘Oh, fuck off. You’re the victim now? You let me raise him as my own...’

  ‘He is yours! You were his father, you...’

  ‘He is no blood of mine. And you are not the woman I married,’ he said and stormed out the room. Maria ran after him. Their fighting continued all down the hall and out of the building.

  ‘I love you,’ Maria screamed, pulling her husbands T-shirt as he walked off. He turned and slapped her hard across the face, throwing her to the hard ground. Police officers rushed to hold him back and dragged him into a holding room to cool off. Christina helped Maria up and took her inside for a hot cup of tea and to offer a shoulder to cry on.

  Meanwhile, inside, Andrew looked at us with blind fury in his eyes.

  ‘Now, look what you have done! You have ruined my family. You have no shame...’

  ‘How long have you known?’ I asked.

  ‘Since I was twelve. Christo approached me one day. Said he wanted to get to know me. I thought he was a pervert and threatened to call the cops. He said he was my biological father.’ He laughed. ‘I ran home crying. Mum was furious with him. She told me not to breathe a word to my father, as he had a weak heart and this would kill him. Stupid bitch. Who says that to a kid? Couldn’t she have lied to me? Anyway, next time he approached me, I wanted to get to know him, you know? He was my father, after all. We would meet when ever we could. He is a great man. Better man than George could ever be. He taught me so much.’

  ‘Taught you to kill?’ Ioli asked.

  ‘No, he...’ He paused.

  ‘You know that we are going to arrest him for giving a false testimony?’

  ‘You can’t do that...’

  ‘And charge you with murder. Your alibi is weak and we have your DNA on the body...’

  ‘You can’t do this. My father is a good man. That priest is to blame. What do you people call it? He was the abettor. He told my dad about that sick fucker. Sex with dead bodies. A satanist that’s what he was. God strikes down sinners and sometimes He needs a little help with His plans.’

  ‘Your father told you that?’

  ‘No. Father Agvoustino did. He told me that I was a bastard and God had no place in Heaven for bastards or sinners like my mother and biological father. He said, my father was brave and was going to do God’s work by killing the necrophiliac. And that I should help him. Only then, would my mother and I be able to walk through heaven’s gates.’

  And just like that, Andrew’s words worked like glue. All the pieces fell together and formed a clear picture. The mastermind behind all, Father Agvoustino. He listened to everyone’s confessions and found out who the sinners were. Then, he manipulated them, to kill each other by promising them forgiveness and entry to heaven. He advised Kate to kill her husband and he persuaded the carpenter to kill both Kate and Stella. And after each kill, he had the next kill
er ready to take out the previous one. Alexis was sent to kill the carpenter, while the fisherman and his son would then kill Alexis. Andrew’s confession probably saved his life. The priest would have had someone lined up to continue his evil plan to eradicate all sinners.

  The rain came and went in a matter of minutes. Light grey clouds wandered over the blue sky and the mild breeze brought a sense of freshness to the air. Ignoring the low temperatures we drove with the windows down. Nothing like a whiff of the Aegean sea to make you feel alive. Nature gave birth to a rainbow ahead. Its blend of colors traveling from the horizon, up into the sky and vanishing behind a group of clouds. Clouds conspiring to start raining again.

  ‘Beautiful, isn’t it?’

  Ioli had relaxed. A closed case had that effect. I, on the other hand, felt my heart race. I always needed to make the arrest for closure to take place. Ioli needed sense. She needed to know, to solve. Then, she relaxed.

  ‘It sure is,’ I answered.

  ‘This is the sign of the covenant that I make between me and you and every living creature that is with you, for all future generations. I have set my bow in the clouds; a sign of the covenant between me and the earth.’

  ‘Excuse me?’

  She laughed out loud, amused by my puzzled face. It felt good to hear her genuine laughter, once again.

  ‘It’s from the Bible. Genesis, I think.’

  ‘And since when have you quoted the good book?’

  ‘My grandma use to say it at the sight of every rainbow. I learnt it as a poem, never really understanding its meaning. At least, as a kid.’

  ‘You think the earth and God are connected?’

  ‘I think we are all connected. In one weird, messed-up way. I truly want to believe as I believed when I was a kid, but logic always ends up getting in the way.’

  ‘Connected, huh?’

  ‘Some people more than others. Take Father Agvoustino. A seemingly kind, old man, loved by his community, into charity and all, and he felt the need to kill. Or have people kill for him. Was he connected to God? No. But he surely felt he was.’

  ‘I’m not sure I’m getting your point.’

  ‘God or no God, it does not matter to me. It is all about how you understand your place in the world, how connected you are. Connected enough to do what’s right. Some people become so disconnected, they become dangerous to the rest.’

  ‘And it’s our job to stop them.’

  ‘Yeah, two freaking guardian angels, aren’t we?’ she said with laughter.

  The newly built, blue and white painted hospital stood out amongst its surrounding two floor buildings. The glass doors came alive as we approached them. We took the elevator up to the fifth floor. The head nurse led us to his room.

  ‘How is he?’ I asked.

  ‘His injuries are healing well. None were serious. It is the cancer that is keeping him down.’

  ‘Cancer?’

  ‘Yes, ma’am. Stage three. At his age, it is a miracle he can still get around. It is a terrible burden to his old heart.’

  We found him, weak in his hospital bed. Tubes came and went and his heart line beeped through the silence. He managed to open his eyes.

  ‘Well, hello there. How is the investigation coming along?’

  ‘Great, we found out who your attacker was,’ Ioli said. His eyes widened.

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes, you. You banged your heart on that icon. A moment of frustration or an evil plan to throw us off track, I don’t know. But, I do know, you were alone when you gained your injuries.’

  He struggled to sit up. He exhaled deeply.

  ‘Not evil, just an old fool’s plan.’

  ‘So you’re not denying it, then?’ I asked.

  ‘No reason in lying, now at the end of it all. How did you find out?’

  ‘Andrew spoke. We have him down at the police station. Local police are arresting his father -his real father- as we speak.’

  ‘Justice for all...’ he said, coughing hard. His whole chest rocked back and forth.

  ‘You believe you served justice?’

  ‘God’s justice.’

  ‘Answer me this, Father,’ I said. ‘We have all the evidence. Just one clue missing. What was the carpenter’s sin?

  ‘Rape. During his time in the army, he raped a girl in a night club. Ever since, he has tried to receive God’s forgiveness. I helped him get it.’

  ‘You are responsible for all those deaths!’ Ioli could not believe her ears.

  ‘Deaths of sinners. God has punished sinners since the beginning of time, my child. Sodom and Gomorrah, ancient Egypt...’

  ‘Santorini!’

  ‘You mock me, my child, but He is the one who will judge me!’

  ‘You did not let any of your victims get judged by Him.’

  ‘Didn’t I? They came to His house, to me, His representative on Earth. According to His law, they were all sinners that deserved punishment. I ended their wicked ways and send them to him to be judged.’

  ‘Oh, you sound so righteous, don’t you? How come you did not get your hands dirty, then? You know, what I believe? You are a lonely, sick-in-the-head, old man that is dying and decided to have some sick fun. You lied and manipulated people that trusted you with their problems. They came to you for help and all they got was death.’ Ioli’s voice got louder by the word. Father Agvoustino leaned forward, ready to answer back, but a deep coughing sound muted his words. He spat blood from his mouth and gasped for air. His heart raced into three digit beats and the monitor went crazy.

  ‘Nurse? Nurse?’ I shouted.

  ‘Stand back,’ she ordered, flying into the room.

  ‘Code Blue,’ she yelled, pushing the red button on the wall. In a matter of seconds, more medical staff rushed through the door. The doctor fought to keep him alive.

  With a bloody, enigmatic smile, Father Agvoustino left this world.

  ‘May God, not have mercy on his soul...’ Ioli mumbled and walked out.

  Father Agvoustino was not the only one leaving this earth. My cell rang as I stood watching the doctor announce the time of death.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Costa...’

  ‘Mum? Hey, how you doing ma?’

  ‘Your father...’

  ‘Ma?’

  ‘He... He fell asleep and he did not wake up...’

  Numbness overtook me and in a zombie-like state, I sat down. A part of my soul shriveled inside and slowly disintegrated. My father, my idol, my hero. Gone. The man who was always there for me. And I was not there for him.

  ‘The funeral is on Wednesday, if you are not too busy for that too.’

  ‘Ma, don’t... I...’

  ‘I don’t want to hear it. I have to mourn my husband and plan a funeral. Bye.’

  So this is what it feels like when people say I feel like shit.

  I managed to pull myself up and dragged my body out of the hospital. Ioli waited by the car. She only had to take one look at me. She ran up to me, the wind twirling dead bronze leaves around her feet.

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘Mum called. My father didn’t make it.’

  ‘Costa, I’m so sorry. Here, sit down.’

  We sat on the nearby metal bench and there in her arms, I cried on her shoulder.

  ‘I should have been there.’

  Chapter 34

  New York

  People die all the time.

  Winter is not the time for a burial in New York.

  My two thoughts as we exited the Greek Orthodox church after my father’s funeral service. Thin snow flakes were dancing around in the strong, icy wind. Visibility was low as the parade of cars made their way up to Saint Michael’s cemetery. Black umbrellas exited the vehicles first, black clothed men and women followed. My mother leaned on me as we led the way up to my father’s final resting ground. My sisters, cousins, aunts, relatives and family friends walked behind us through the rusty gates and over the yellowing grass. The grass disapp
earing, getting buried as the snow started to pile up. Scattered tombstones made up the scenery, while naked trees stretched out their creepy tentacles. My mother was never one to hold a grudge, especially at times like this. She was a Greek mother and her only son was her rock at a time like this.

  As they lowered down his casket, neither of us could fight back our tears. As I wiped away the falling drops of pain, pushing up my dark shades, I saw her. There she was, standing amongst the crowd. My ex-wife Tracy. She smiled at me and even under these circumstances, it warmed my heart.

  New York – Three years earlier

  It had been the perfect family day out.

  The Bronx River Festival took place on a warm Saturday in July. My beautiful wife Tracy, our nine year old angel, Gabriella and I were upon 2Train heading to Burke Avenue, west of Bronx Park where the festival was in full swing. Gabriella looked stunningly beautiful for a young girl, in her white Benetton dress and her hair tied up into two ponytails.

  ‘She is as excited as a porcupine meeting a pineapple,’ Tracy joked and we all laughed. Gabriella always laughed at her mother’s sayings, even though most of the time she had no idea what she was talking about. Why would a porcupine be so happy to meet a pineapple anyway?

  The Bronx River Festival was a celebration of the Bronx River with loads of activities on deck for the entire family. Gabriella eagerly looked forward to the nature scavenger hunt where she had high hopes of proving to daddy what a good little investigator she had become. Tracy was going to take part in all the calorie-burning activities like capoiera and power yoga while I was going to stand by a tree smoking in secret so Gabriella would not see me. I would stand there all day if Tracy let me, admiring the two of them and occasionally waving and giving a thumbs-up to every ‘‘Daddy, daddy look.”

  The festival did justice to the saying time flies when you’re having fun and four hours went by without any of us noticing. It was time to head back home.

  The party of three came out from the underground holding hands, letting the love flow through us. Little Gaby was ecstatically happy, having played all sorts of games, eaten a bunch of junk food mama would not have allowed on a normal day and she had her face painted as a fairy princess.

  The tires of the car racing round the corner and down the street made us jump and as I turned around, I saw the barrels of their guns sticking out from behind the slightly opened tinted windows of a black Lincoln MKS.