1 The Assassins' Village

by Faith Mortimer

A dry, musty animal smell reached her nostrils as she leant over. Immediately Diana thought of mice and rats. The opening was small, but large enough for a person to go through and the natural light was sufficient for Diana to make out a flight of four or five crude, narrow steps leading to a tiny crypt of a room. It was quite empty except for an oblong shaped wooden-box about half a metre long. The rough box looked like it contained nothing but sand and a small bundle of rags.

  ‘Ella. Come,’ Antigone said, beckoning her to walk down the steps and join her in the small space below.

  Diana felt her heart thumping.

  Despite being completely mystified, Diana had watched enough horror films and the X Files series, to know that no one should go down a flight of steps into a cellar, and especially if there was no electric light. Remaining where she was at the top, she watched Antigone descend further.

  ‘Come, come,’ she repeated with some agitation and waved an arm.

  ‘No. Endaxi. I’m okay here. What do you want to show me?’

  For an answer, Antigone picked up the rag bundle from the box and unwrapped one end. As she did so, a gigantic flash of lightning lit the room and Diana caught the look of complete rapture upon her face. A crash of thunder shook the walls, the sound reverberating around the house.

  ‘See! Saint Maria.’ Antigone proudly held the bundle up towards Diana for approval.

  Peering down, Diana caught her breath with horror. Nestled in the swaddling bands she saw a wizened little face, a mummy; skin and flesh shrunken but preserved. Recoiling with shock, Diana took a step backwards and slipped over in the rubble under her feet. She felt herself go hot and cold, her skin clammy and her heart hammered in her chest. Finding it hard to breath, she fought to regain control, and hot, sour vomit rushed up into her throat. She blanched and turned aside. The whole thing was gruesome.

  Her body gradually quietened as thoughts raced through her mind. Antigone had a baby in her arms, if you could call a mummified infant a baby. Stealing another look at it, Diana was repulsed to discover that the child’s limbs were shrunken; too small to have functioned even if it had matured. Her original repulsion was replaced by an infinite sadness. When had all this occurred? How on earth had she managed to keep it in that condition? A dozen questions raced around her mind as she forced herself to look at Antigone. She took a deep breath and stood up. She understood nothing.

  ‘Antigone, this baby - is it yours?’

  ‘Yes. Of course she is.’

  ‘But who is the father? And why is it still here. Not,’ she paused unsure how to put this delicate question. ‘Not buried.’

  Antigone looked affronted at the question.

  ‘Buried? Why? Is this not proof she is a saint? She is preserved like all saints.’

  Oh good God! Diana thought. Antigone was under the impression that as her baby had somehow been preserved, and her flesh had not become corrupted, then she was a real saint. Just like all the other saints in the Catholic and Eastern Orthodox Church. As far as Antigone was concerned it was all quite natural. But how grisly!

  Diana couldn’t stop herself shivering with the thought of it all. How long had she kept this infant down here? Diana knew a little about mummification after visiting Egypt last year with Steve. That country was the master of the process, but it was usually achieved through the use of chemicals, although there were some natural processes, like long time burial in ice or tar pits. She could only assume that somehow, Antigone had buried her infant in sand when it had died, and this had caused a natural mummification. Hot dry sand would have absorbed the baby’s fluids resulting in a retardation of decomposition and a desiccated body. It was all quite macabre.

  Looking at the pitiful woman in front of her, Diana felt a rush of sorrow flood through her, imagining the plight of Antigone when she had given birth and even possibly here in this very house.

  ‘When your baby come we share,’ Antigone said cuddling the rag bundle to her breast.

  Diana replied with gentleness in her voice. ‘No Antigone. I’m not having a baby. So I have nothing to share.’

  ‘Yes! Yes! You are. Next year and we share. You are mother to my new baby. You carry it for me.’ Antigone laid her baby back in its makeshift cradle with infinite tenderness.

  Diana made another attempt to explain and Antigone’s whole demeanour changed as she stared back at Diana from the cellar. Her eyes clouded and with a sudden burst of energy she bound up the stairs towards her.

  Diana felt a shaft of fear shoot from her head to her toes. She was in the presence of a madwoman. Was this why she behaved as she did? Giving birth to a deformed infant would cause enormous grief. In the next few seconds all manner of emotions raced through her. Antigone could harm her in her current frame of mind or force her down into the crypt-like room. Diana knew she possessed great strength. Keeping her emotions and fears in check, she decided the best thing was to keep her talking. She would try to get away when she had a chance.

  Diana paused in her thoughts. Except if Antigone truly thought that Diana was going to have a baby, a baby they were going to share, then surely she was in no danger at all? Diana forced herself to see sense. She knew Antigone, hadn’t she just shared cakes with her? And yet, like so many others, did she really know her at all?

  ‘Antigone, if this is your baby Maria. Then who is the father?’

  Antigone’s wild demeanour changed to a certain coyness as she stood there, twisting her skirt in her hands. She was obviously anxious not to let anyone know the full secret. Diana didn’t press her. Whoever had fathered the handicapped child meant nothing to her.

  Antigone spoke; her voice was barely a whisper in the darkening gloom. ‘He was an army officer, an Englishman.’

  Surprised with this revelation, Diana tried to keep the conversation going. At the same time she knew she had to get away from the stairwell and keep her distance from Antigone.

  ‘Oh! And who was he?’ she asked in a calm voice.

  ‘He tried to kiss you once,’ Antigone said slowly. ‘He should never have done that. He was mine.’ Her look was dark as she frowned at the memory.

  Diana gave an involuntarily gasp of shock. Leslie! She remembered the time he had come on a bit strong. It was during the party after a play. She didn’t think anyone had noticed. She’d said nothing at the time as Leslie had had too much to drink. How on earth had Antigone seen that? He’d made the pass round the back of the taverna.

  ‘Mr Leslie. My Mr Leslie.’ A strange look passed over her face as if she was remembering her long past youth. Antigone stared, looking into the distance.

  ‘He had to go away. He couldn’t stay with me because he had a special job to do, a very important one. He promised that he’d come back and take me with him. I was to stay and wait until he came, until he was ready. He wanted me, his Antigone. He called me his beautiful little Kypros girl. He didn’t want to leave me. He was made to!’ She turned her face back to Diana; a hard look upon her features.

  Diana felt like Antigone was waiting for her to challenge her words.

  Diana was stunned. When was all this? What was it Steve had tried to tell her on the mobile? Was this it? Something about – did he mean an affair between Leslie and Antigone?

  ‘I didn’t know Antigone. I don’t think anyone knew.’

  A faraway look was upon her face and Antigone’s eyes were wide and staring as she continued her story. She had been about sixteen when Mr Leslie had come here with his men to work in the village.

  ‘But this was years ago,’ Di murmured, her thoughts whirling around her head.

  ‘It was during the seventies.’

  As Antigone’s story unfolded, Diana felt herself fill with compassion. This poor woman had suffered, and in silence. It was as clear as day that as a young girl Antigone had fallen head over heals in love with her army officer.

  Di learnt how Leslie had taught her more English and met her in secret. Antigone said he had made promises to her. Had he intended anything befo
re he left her?

  ‘My brother discovered about our meetings. Yanoulla told him.’

  Di was intrigued. So Yanoulla was living here back then.

  ‘I think Leslie and Kristiakis had a fight. Something must have happened, because the next day Leslie left the village. He must have been forced to go without me.’

  She stopped and turned to face Diana before continuing her story.

  The months passed. She never got the chance to tell him about the baby. Antigone was crying silent tears as she recalled the repulsive treatment she’d endured at the hands of her brother. She detested him for everything he’d done to her. After his last beating, her baby had come early. Infant Maria had been too small to survive. Her voice broke on reaching the part where she’d struggled down to this very house and given birth to her baby, quite alone.

  Shocked, Diana listened in silence to Antigone’s distressing and poignant tale. Her heart ached for her. She didn’t know what words; if any, could comfort this pitiful, abused woman and Diana felt totally inadequate.

  How could Leslie have done this to a girl of barely sixteen? Put this story together with the other things she and Steve had learned about Leslie and she wondered why he hadn’t been done away with years ago. The man had been completely amoral. He had ruined so many lives; Bernard’s, Jenny’s, Tony’s, Tilly’s, his own wives’ and children’s, Antigone’s and possibly Alicia’s. And they were the people that she knew about!

  Alicia! Steve’s words came roaring back to her. She’d promised Steve she would leave and come right back home. Diana had already broken this promise by staying with Antigone. Alicia could be here any minute. Steve had said Alicia was highly dangerous; convinced she’d killed Leslie and Kristiakis. Diana had to get moving and fast. But how was she going to persuade a weeping Antigone?

  ‘Antigone, look at me. I’m sorry but we must go, right now.’

  Antigone shook her head miserably. ‘I stay here.’

  ‘Please Antigone. Look, I have to go. Steve wants me home.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘You don’t understand. Someone is coming. Someone who wants to hurt me. You know Alicia, the thin red-headed woman.’ Di felt a frisson of panic as she thought of her.

  Antigone stopped her weeping. ‘She is bad that one. She tried to steal my Mr Leslie, many times. She’s no good. I hate her. Keep away from her.’

  ‘Yes, I know, and that’s why we have to go now.’

  ‘You go. If she comes I can keep her here, away from you,’ she said turning away.

  Frustrated, Diana caught her by the arm.

  ‘Please! Look at the sky, there’s a huge storm coming. It’s going to rain any minute. We’ll get soaked.’ Antigone disengaged her elbow from Diana’s. ‘No. You can go. You need to get home.’

  As she tried to reason with Antigone, it dawned on Di that she was fighting a battle she would never win. Antigone wanted to remain where she was, and yet she made no attempt to keep Diana with her. She had given up her earlier, menacing manner. It left Diana with only one choice; to leave her there. She couldn’t come to any harm if she sheltered from the storm in the old house. She probably spent many days there, wrapped up and absorbed in her old grief.

  As Diana made her decision to go, she took one last look at her. Diana was shocked. As she gazed into Antigone’s face she thought that looking into Antigone’s dark blank eyes was like looking through a window into her personal hell.

  Defeated, Di said goodbye and hastened back along the track. The sound of thunder and the lightning storm was overpowering. She thought it odd; the promised rain had not yet began to fall.

  The wind caused swirls of dust and leaves to blow along the way with her, stinging the backs of her arms and legs. Climbing the path, the sky began to darken until it resembled dusk and not just a tenebrous day. Hot and breathless she rushed along, breaking into a slow jog. She was scared of being caught out in the storm and craved to be at home in the security of Steve’s arms.

  It wasn’t so far to go now: another ten minutes along the track. The uneven ground beneath her feet was treacherous in places - large deep potholes and crumbled edges. So intent was she watching her footsteps that she didn’t see the dark figure until she crashed into it. In confusion and terror she screamed at the same time as she lashed out.

  ~~~

  Di woke up and groaned. She didn’t know where she was. She breathed in a mixture of laundered bed-linen, antiseptic and vague cooking smells. Her eyes flew open and it all came thundering back to her in a rush.

  She was in hospital; she’d been burnt and injured in the fire. Gingerly, raising a hand to her sore forehead Diana found what appeared to be a wound dressing. She had a stinker of a headache pulsing in her right temple, and she ached from her neck and shoulders down. Still in shock she recalled the events of the previous day.

  ~~~

  As she hurtled into the figure on the darkened track she had hit out first and asked questions after. Distressed and agitated after hearing Antigone’s tragic story, and then rushing to find Steve and away from the threat of Alicia, it was no wonder.

  Too late, as she landed a well-aimed punch at the figure in the semi-darkness, she realised who it was.

  ‘Hey! Hey! Calm down. It’s me. It’s okay. You’re all right now,’ Steve said gathering her in his arms. Trembling and sobbing with relief, she buried her head in his shoulder as the whole wretched story came tumbling out.

  ‘That’s what I meant when we were cut off. Leslie had a little flirtation with Antigone. According to the book, she was absolutely besotted with him. She was always waylaying him with some pretence or other. But, he never mentions actually having full sex with her, and he certainly never knew anything about a baby. They did meet, he did sketch her, and there was one occasion when things got a little out of hand, but there was absolutely nothing in his book about them going the whole way,’ he said while she paused for breath and got herself under control. ‘I wonder?’

  ‘What? What do you wonder?’ Diana raised her head to look up at him.

  ‘I wonder if the whole thing was a fabrication. You know, a young impressionable girl with a vivid imagination. She just might have made the whole thing up.’

  ‘Yes maybe she did. But that doesn’t explain who the father of her baby was, does it?’

  Just then, there was an almighty resounding crash of thunder. The sky lit up their surroundings and in the eerie light they saw a figure standing before them on the dirt road. Both jumped back in fright. As another flash closely followed the first, they saw that the road was actually quite empty. Without realising what the other was feeling they each let out a huge sigh of relief.

  ‘That sounded close. Too close. It must have struck something,’ Steve said.

  They looked up. Black clouds were racing hither and thither across an indigo sky. There was no pattern to their movement. The wind blew strong and fierce in their upturned faces. They sniffed and looked at each other simultaneously.

  ‘Fire!’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘Down below us. Let’s look back along the track a bit.’

  Grasping her hand Steve led Diana the way she’d just come.

  ‘The house! Antigone!’ Diana screamed. ‘We must see if she’s all right! She’ll be terrified!’

  Tearing her hand out of his grasp she sprang away from him and ignoring the potholes, began running down the hill.

  As they rounded the last bend a terrible sight met their eyes. The old house was in the grips of a huge fire. The dry twisted roof beams were already burnt through. As they crashed down, one after another onto the ground, they sent up great showers of sparks. The few items of remaining furniture were also on fire, as were the doors and windows. The tinder-dry house had gone up in flames within minutes after being struck.

  ‘Antigone!’ Di shrieked in anguish. ‘I left her inside! We must find her!’ Frantic with terror and without waiting for Steve, Diana rushed towards the burning entrance, just as the do
orframe came crashing down upon her. Everything went black.

  ~~~

  Diana stretched and yawned, before noticing the figure at her bedside.

  ‘Hi sleepyhead. I wondered when you were going to join me.’

  Steve leaned towards her and gave her a deep kiss. He smiled into her eyes that looked serene, peaceful, and full of joy.

  ‘Hi yourself.’

  ‘Still happy?’ he teased, knowing full well the answer.

  Diana gave a slow nod. The radiant smile on her face was one of complete elation. She gave a deep sigh.

  ‘I still can’t quite believe it. Can you?’

  Steve gave her a big hug in answer and a very tender smile. A minute passed before he felt the time was right to tell her about that day’s events. He wanted to get it all out of the way. That way they could begin to live their lives once again.

  ‘Darling are you ready to hear what’s been happening?’ he asked, a look of concern clouding his face.

  Diana nodded holding tightly on to his hand.

  ‘The inspector has formally charged Alicia with two accounts of murder: Leslie and Kristiakis. He was actually apologetic and quite friendly towards me, when I finally got him to believe all I was telling him. He had no idea what a Punjab Lasso was, and so ignored it the first time they searched her house. We were quite right about her using it and garrotting both men. The inspector said they had been confused when Kristiakis was found. Apparently, when someone is hanged there is distinctive goo that comes from their nose. Kristiakis didn’t have this.’ He gave a big sigh. ‘It was a particularly horrible death. The inspector says she acted like a classic case of being a total man-hater despite apparently sleeping around. Alicia was screeching like one of her feral cats as they took her away. She kept repeating that it was all lies, she was innocent and someone had framed her. It was dreadful, and yet despite everything I felt sorry for her. Now I’m just so thankful it’s all over.’ He gave a shudder remembering the violent scene outside Alicia’s house. It was something he would never forget.

  ‘It was a good thing Antigone found Leslie’s book and gave it to me. If Alicia had got to it first we would never have found out half of this,’ she murmured.