Of course, everyone was an expert with an answer.
The expat community was equally thrown into a state of unholy shock and they kept repeating amongst themselves, why Leslie? True he possessed few real friends; having annoyed just about everyone hereabouts, but was that enough to murder him?
As with every calamity though, dig deeper and more dirt is recovered.
Perhaps because Di and Steve were the ones who found Leslie’s body, they felt it all the more keenly. Of course they were doing their own thinking.
‘Who could possibly have done it?’ They asked themselves more than once. Their conclusions making them feel uncomfortable. ‘It’s more probable to have been one of us, one of the expats.’
Their simple reasoning was logical. The majority of the local Cypriots attended church that day. Rarely did the Cypriots miss their ticket to heaven by ignoring an important saint’s day in church. Religion was vital to their way of life. This was not so for the majority of the expats. None of them were Greek Orthodox and the nearest Anglican Church was down in Limassol, a twenty-five minute car journey away. Most of the expat community attended church on an irregular basis; Christmas, Easter, weddings and funerals of course. That Sunday had been unimportant to them as far as church was concerned. The high temperatures also stifled any inclination for sweaty car journeys. It had been simpler and easier to stay in the cooler hills and look forward to lunch at the very good village taverna.
Little by little, information was drip-fed around the community, not least of all by Bernard and especially Jenny. Jenny, who practised no hobbies to occupy her bird-like brain, was a veritable teller of tales and Diana was especially skilled at drawing the tastiest titbits out of her; whether about the recent shocking event or otherwise.
For some reason, Diana felt it her duty to try and solve this crime. Despite not being a particular friend of either Leslie or Sonja, something inside was compelling her to dig deeper into the tragedy.
Sitting at her desk, chewing on the end of her favourite pencil she thought over past events. There was another cup of forgotten coffee cooling next to her writing pad. By using Jenny’s and Bernard’s anecdotes and other material related to her over the past few months, she drew up a table and produced a list of possible suspects. She wrote next to each named suspect - if it was possible they could have committed murder on that fateful Sunday morning. If there was a ‘yes’ next to the name, she now added a possible or feasible reason why. She had compiled quite a list and was feeling rather wobbly; she was looking at so many names.
Despite Steve’s warning telephone call, the police looked shaken when examining the body. A bare five hours had passed since visiting Leslie at home and after giving him his warning.
Earlier, Di probed the question of Tilly. Despite being sworn to secrecy over Tilly’s fling with Leslie, Jen and Ann had been unable to keep hush about it. Together, over a cup of coffee and rich chocolate cake at Ann’s house they whispered a very breathy little tale to Di concerning Leslie and his recent nasty treatment of Tilly. Now, as Di fitted together all the pieces, she couldn’t completely ignore the fact, Tilly and Leslie had been involved with each other. Had Tilly been so completely incensed with Leslie and his nasty evil ways to commit her own crime? Strong and athletic, it would have been easy for her to give him a violent shove over the cliff. But the question of the knife attack was a probable no.
Also, according to Bernard, Tilly was completely stunned by the shocking news. Although Leslie made a complete arse of himself at the time with his harassment, after Tilly made her complaint to the police she felt nothing but an enormous relief. The police calmly assured her, that almost always in cases like hers the nuisance would stop after they had intervened.
Now, he would never pester anyone again. Diana wrote another note in the margin; Tilly also apparently had an alibi. Tilly told the police she had been at the gym that Sunday around midday. Although not her regular time of day for a visit, she’d spent a good hour there. She enjoyed a good working out. Di presumed the police had verified her statement. Diana realised they would never have interviewed Tilly at all if it had not been for her earlier involvement with Leslie. Di recalled Bernard saying, ‘I would stake my life on Tilly being completely blameless. She’s quiet and nice, no trouble at all.’
Hearing light footsteps behind her, Diana looked round with alarm at the intrusion, her heart jumping. Everyone was behaving nervously.
Breathing a sigh of relief as Elaine walked into the room, Diana studied her sister. Obviously dressed to go out, she was looking slim and pretty in her blue and white sundress with matching shoes and handbag. Her newly-washed hair shone and she’d blow dried it into a soft curly style that suited her expressive face. With an added trace of eye make-up and lipstick, a waft of familiar expensive perfume drifted over to Diana.
‘Hi! I’m off then. I’ll be home later this evening. Don’t bother about dinner for me, I’m eating out.’ She gave an excited grin to her sister.
‘Not again?’ Di teased. Her younger sister was looking ready for eating herself.
Laughing, Elaine blew her a kiss before skipping out of the room and down the stairs. Di chuckled to herself; it was good to see her looking happy. Smiling faces were on the rare side here just lately.
She looked down at her list. Elaine’s name was there, as bold as all the others. She said she’d been in Limassol last Sunday, at yet another arts council meeting. Not on a Sunday, surely? Di had tentatively asked. She remembered Elaine leaving the village in her car before she and Steve left for the taverna.
~~~
Earlier that morning, during Diana’s questioning, Elaine had looked sheepish and reluctant to explain just exactly where she had been. After a few well-aimed remarks from her older sister, she finally relented and owned up, not before complaining Diana was becoming a master at gentle persuasion.
‘All right I’ll tell you,’ she said with a huge sigh. ‘You’re never going to give me any peace until I do. I was meeting someone for lunch.’ She shot her sister a look that signified a challenge. ‘I was a bit embarrassed to tell you at first. One disastrous marriage, and well, you know the rest. I had almost given up hope of meeting anyone else again. Sergei arrived on the scene a month ago.’
Diana wasn’t too surprised. Elaine had always been a secretive person.
‘You remember the painting exhibition I held in Limassol? The one I set up to test the market with different styles of local art. Well, Sergei is an art connoisseur and we met there. He even knew about my English landscape and wildlife paintings. I felt extremely flattered. We got talking and he invited me to lunch on his super-yacht moored in the yacht marina. Imagine!’
Diana’s eyes opened wide at this revelation.
‘Soon, we were meeting regularly and Sergei has just suggested a short sailing holiday across to Syria. His yacht is large enough to have a full-time crew of two so my very basic sailing skills will not be called upon! It all sounds very exciting. A week on a luxury yacht and I won’t have to lift a finger! How different from my other life is that?’ She was looking exactly like an excited teenager once again.
As Elaine first related all this to Di, she’d sat there open-mouthed listening to her younger sister’s tortuous explanation. So! That was what it was all about! Now Elaine possessed a boyfriend; a Russian, and according to Elaine, disgustingly well off.
‘Well! You’ve landed on your feet for a change. Why on earth didn’t you tell me before?’ Diana demanded when Elaine finished.
‘Because you know damn well, you’d have played the bossy, older sister. You’d have wanted to vet him, and I couldn’t have stood that,’ she replied with a defensive tone in her voice, winding a lock of curly hair around her finger.
‘Well yes, I probably would have. And just what do you know about him?’
‘See! There you go, just like I said you would!’ she glared at her. ‘Oh for goodness sake! All that matters at the moment is that he’s kind and gener
ous, makes me feel good and, we’re always laughing at the same stupid things. And that’s something that never happened before. Do you understand now?’
Jumping up out of her chair she prepared to leave the kitchen where they had been having breakfast together. A slice of buttered toast skittered across her plate.
Di looked thoughtful. Her sister did look well, radiant in fact. Now with her secret out in the open, with no more deviousness, Elaine appeared more relaxed and happy. Diana got up and went over to her giving her a quick hug. ‘I am pleased for you. Really I am. I’m sure he’s great and I can’t wait to meet him. Oh, in your own good time of course.’
She held up a hand in mock supplication.
Elaine grinned back at her. ‘All in good time,’ she repeated.
‘Come on, finish your breakfast and tell me more about him. Does he have a sexy accent, and have you -?’ They both burst out into giggles. They were like young sisters trading secrets once more.
~~~
Looking down at her page, Diana crossed Elaine off her list.
The next names were Tony, Bernard, and Jenny. Jen had been at the taverna lunch during that dreadful time. That left Tony and Bernard. Tony arrived late for the meal and Bernard slipped out during the early part of it. Di had already told the police those facts.
She knew nothing about Sonja, or Alicia. Pete and Ann from next door were already there when she and Steve arrived. They remained at the table throughout the meal. Steve of course sat next to her, and besides he had no motive, he hardly knew Leslie.
Frowning to herself, Diana thought back over that afternoon.
What about the Cypriots? Yanoulla, a regular churchgoer, never seemed to miss a service. Not all of the Cypriots attended church; Kristiakis and his sister Antigone for instance. Kristiakis was often out shooting, especially when the mukhtar attended church and therefore couldn’t catch him red-handed. She and Steve had heard occasional gunshots in the distance that afternoon. The police knew his temper of old - they’d said so.
What’s more, according to the guru Bernard, Kristiakis’ and Leslie’s animosity went way back to when Leslie’s army squad was stationed in the village in the seventies. Apparently they loathed each other.
What about Antigone? She was generally a strange, unkempt woman who kept to herself. Never joining in the local events, she usually only uttered a few words of mostly unintelligible nonsense if approached. Diana always smiled and said hello when passing her in the village. The only real words they’d exchanged occurred one very hot morning about a month ago.
Finishing her early morning walk, Diana had come over feeling dizzy and sick as she made the steep climb back up to the village. She rested in the shade outside Antigone’s house until the feeling subsided. Antigone opened her courtyard gate to throw some dirty water into the lane. She stopped when she found a pale Diana sitting in her way. Strangely enough she didn’t immediately bolt back indoors. Instead, she looked at Diana and shyly spoke to her. Diana realised with astonishment that this rough, dirty woman was actually speaking to her in English, and asking whether she was feeling all right.
Diana had forgotten about it until now. Since then she always spoke to Antigone, just a few words in passing. Diana had no idea whether Antigone went to church but thought it was a good bet that she didn’t. And as it appeared she had nothing to do with anybody, Antigone had no reason to commit murder surely?
Her brother, now he was a totally different character if the stories Di heard were all but half true.
Doodling on her notepad, Diana looked at the names she’d written down earlier. There were a few still unaccounted for, either for part of or for the whole of that time on Sunday. Diana had written down: Tony, Bernard, Sonja, and Alicia. She now added Kristiakis and supposed she should include his sister Antigone and Yanoulla.
Tony was fat and slow, could he walk that far? And what would his motive be? Could it possibly be something to do with what Ann and Jen had intimated at? Tony was apparently into soft porn in some way.
Bernard: he was far older than Tony and suffering from a recent back injury, so he couldn’t move very fast. Di thought about his back injury. Just when had it happened? Was it before Leslie’s death, or around the same time? Think! There was no way he could have walked that far down the track. True he possessed a motive, but was it strong enough? But wait a minute. Her novel and the way the plot was going. What about her earlier thought of him driving down there? Giving a quick shake of her head, Diana dismissed it as highly unlikely. Bernard had already been at the taverna and returned home only to fetch his wallet. There was barely enough time to get there and back. Besides how would he have known about Leslie being there in the first place? But that was not impossible in a small community like this. Everyone knew each other’s business. Diana wriggled in her chair as she explored each possibility.
What about the women? First there was Sonja, absolutely fed up with Leslie’s infidelities over the years. Now, she could do as she liked with whatever money they’d possessed between them. She acted very strangely when she first learnt about her husband’s death. Diana had commented to Steve about her reaction.
‘I don’t know about you but I think Sonja is very peculiar, don’t you agree? She hardly showed any remorse while we stood with her at the crime scene; at the scene of the death of her husband. She appeared far more worried that he’d had lost his ring!’
And then there was Alicia. Diana recalled Leslie belittling her at their last play reading and very nastily too. Apparently, according to Jen, ‘Alicia had been an old lover of Leslie’s. Did you know that, Diana?’
Did Alicia still fancy him? And was Alicia jealous of Tilly, his latest affair? Did she know about Tilly? Almost certainly, Jen said ‘I’m sure you know all about Leslie, Diana. He’s never been particularly good at keeping all his affairs secret.’
She returned her thoughts to Yanoulla. Di knew very little about her personal life and nobody had linked her to Leslie. But she was female, single and obviously had a healthy sex life if her involvement with Kristiakis was anything to go by. Was it possible she too had a fling with Leslie?
Spending part of her life in England, Yanoulla was considered different from most other Cypriot village women. The local woman regarded her with some suspicion. Diana knew Yanoulla and Alicia were friends; they often shared a car down into town for shopping. After living in London for some time Yanoulla had retained much of her founded Englishness. Friendly and quite likeable, but Diana only knew her superficially.
Finally, Diana’s musings returned to Kristiakis. He was perhaps the one who hated Leslie the most. Had anything in their past history been ignited by some recent action between Kristiakis and Leslie? The Cypriots kept long memories and even now one heard of almost biblical ‘eye for an eye’ vendettas. Was it likely? Was the village living up to its old name? The Assassins’ Village; what a chilling title to be attached to a place.
Putting her notepad away in her desk drawer Diana decided she definitely needed more research before she could even think she was on to something. Pausing, a thought came to her. What was it Jen or Ann who’d mentioned a little black memoir book of Leslie’s? What if all this had something to do with it? What dark secrets had Leslie known and, Diana gave a little shiver, who knew or guessed what his book contained, and perhaps most importantly, about whom?
Chapter 23. Monday
So weary with disasters.
Macbeth. Act 3 Scene 1
Thomas stood by the open window as Sonja made coffee in the kitchen. He didn’t really want it - a double stiff brandy would have been nearer the mark - but he let her make it anyway. It would give him something to do with his hands. He couldn’t stop them shaking. Momentarily closing his eyes, Thomas took a deep breath and then opened them, exhaling slowly to calm his nerves. His gaze slid over the courtyard in front of him. It was a riotous spread of varying shades of green. Potted plants, dusty palm fronds and spiky, vicious looking cacti set between cracks in
the crazy paving. It should have been calming and harmonious, indeed at any other time it would have. But, just now the verdant cover had no effect on Thomas. He swung away from the window, sitting down on the nearest wooden chair.
Sonja looked ghastly when she had led him into the living room and delivered her bombshell. Once told, she hurriedly left the room, as if she too needed an excuse to do something with her hands.
It still hadn’t sunk in. How could it? He’d spent over four tedious hours on a flight to visit his father whom, he had just been informed, was dead and in horrific circumstances. Never, in his whole life had he experienced such a numbing shock. If only he had got here a few days earlier. To have arrived the day after his death, his murder! What a ghastly nightmare. Except it wasn’t some macabre dream from which he would wake up; it was true. This was really happening.
He hadn’t rung his wife or his sister. His sister, oh God! Despite all Victoria said about Leslie, he was their father and she was fond of him, especially so when she was little. Covering his face with his hands Thomas gave a soft moan. It was shockingly raw and yet, he wasn’t sure how he truly felt. His brain felt numb. He supposed it was his body’s natural defence mechanism, once it wore off how would he feel then? Thomas had never been close to his father. Leslie never allowed it. Once his mother and he and Victoria had been settled back in England, Leslie spent very little time with them.
Sonja re-entered the room carrying two mugs of coffee. Thomas remembered she never bothered with the niceties of life, sugar and cream bowls on a tray, far too fussy and pretentious.
‘You said you didn’t take sugar?’ she asked handing him an earthenware mug. He did, but he couldn’t be bothered contradicting her. It was far too trivial in the circumstances.
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