Down in the basement, the Special Forces team found twelve members of personnel caged behind bars. They had been locked in, in groups of two or three, separated and left without food, water or light for two days. Left in desperation, they were highly dehydrated and exhausted from screaming and crying. They were escorted out of the dungeons of hell and brought outside to the timid, winter sun, to refreshing water, to the experienced police medics. Smiles of relief and tears of joy painted their exit. Most had given up hope of surviving. In the darkness, they sat and heard each execution, knowing that their chances of being let go were minimal. Regret is a small word to describe how they felt about accepting their position.
‘As soon as possible, we need testimonies. As soon as the medics give you the okay, get their stories,’ I said to the officers beside me and with Pauline following me, I headed to the last locked door of the long corridor.
Inside, Clio opened her eyes wide, warning her brother to cease complaining that no one was coming. Her plan had to work. It just has to, she thought, mentally unable to think of a scenario where her brothers would be killed in front of her eyes. A scenario where her frail-hearted father would watch her be executed on live television.
Pauline, a woman a foot taller than me and with broader shoulders, kicked down the door and I rushed into the room, my gun extended. A young girl lay in the middle of the room.
No blood, could she be alive?
Suddenly, I felt movement behind me. I figured it was Pauline entering after me.
Then, I heard her shout. ‘Freeze!’
I turned to see one of the Afroudaki boys ready to jump me. He froze on the spot. Another young man was by the door and made a move on Pauline.
‘Don’t!’ I yelled, hoping that Pauline’s perfect reflexes did not kick in. After all this, to get shot by the police. Pauline’s finger stopped a hair away from the trigger. ‘Athens Police,’ I said and showed the triplets my badge.
Clio sat up straight and started to cry. She leaped off the ground and ran into my arms. I embraced the trembling girl as her brothers began to laugh out hysterically. Pauline took a step back, making sure neither ran into her muscular arms.
On the floor above, officers nodded to each other and approached an old, wooden closet. Mumbling could be heard from inside. Silently, they took slow steps towards it. The female voice grew louder.
‘...our daily bread. Forgive us our sins, as we forgive those who sin against us. Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.’
A short officer pulled back the door. Salome shrieked in fear and covered her face with her hands.
‘Ma’am, we are with the metropolitan police. We are here to rescue you.’
Salome looked up at the figure towering over her, the light from the bulb above forming a halo around his head.
‘My savior,’ she said and reached out.
The man lifted her up as Salome praised the Lord for her salvage from the depths of hell into which she had sunk.
Below, the three siblings held hands as they exited the hotel. A deafening, juddering sound swooped from above. The police helicopter had arrived to make its rounds over the island. I looked up and saw Ioli, sitting by the chopper’s open door. She waved, and I forced a smile. Alexandro and Valentina were no-where to be found. SWAT team members entered the secret passage and reached the end. They exited and looked around. No one was to be seen. I could see Ioli’s eyes searching in the crowd below. The helicopter flew above the hotel and vanished from my sight.
Where are they?
*****
Panayioti Karaoli had killed many times before. Never a human, though. A hunting fan, with thirty-five years of hunting and trapping under his belt, he was an excellent shot. Now, he stood with a gun in his hands just meters away from his prey. Two humans. Two cops. And, he was ordered to shoot them. Heart or brains, the boss said. He gently blew out air and mentally prepared for the deadly shots. His mind travelled back to his village, to his four underage kids and his unemployed wife. He did not care for the cause. He was there for the large paycheck. A week’s work, a year’s salary. Shoot them and get it over with, Panayioti, his inner voice prepared him.
As his finger squeezed down on the trigger, his arm shook by the rattling of the helicopter approaching. ‘Police, drop your weapons!’ the order came from the speakers above.
The first bullet escaped his gun and hit Alexandro in the chest. The bullet’s kick pushed him back, and he tripped over Valentina’s leg. Alexandro fell to the ground. Valentina screamed as Ioli and the men in the chopper opened fire on the three men.
As Panayioti took a bullet to the head and his body violently shook and fell, his partner shot back at the helicopter, while his boss shot at Valentina putting pressure on Alexandro’s open wound. No witnesses, he thought as he shot her and dived into the cave, hoping to escape through the dark tunnels that led out to sea. He would not be that lucky. Ioli’s bullet followed him as he stepped into the cave, hitting him in his neck. His last breath departed from his lips as his mind thought of Platonas. He died, sure that his son would continue his mission.
‘Get us down there, now,’ Ioli yelled to the pilot. ‘Call for medics,’ she continued yelling at the officer by her side.
Valentina’s back welcomed the penetrating bullet, and with a silent gasp, she fell upon Alexandro.
Ioli looked from above as the helicopter descended to the sandy ground. In all the chaos and racket, she watched the dying couple as if someone had pressed the mute button.
Valentina had let go of his wound and blood oozed out quickly. Alexandro coughed out blood, and his chest moved violently up and down as his blood-filled lungs fought for oxygen. His hand dug into his pocket and with his remaining strength, he pulled out the jewelry box that he had hidden in his pocket since their arrival on the island. His quivering thumb pushed the ring box lid open. He lifted the red velvet box for Valentina to see. Valentina placed her head upon his bloody chest, feeling his weak heartbeat. A smile ran along her pale face. ‘Yes, yes. A million times yes,’ she said and struggled to raise her head. ‘Yes, yes,’ she raised her voice, making sure that he could hear her. She dragged her body higher up upon his and looked down into the eyes she loved getting lost in. Alexandro was unable to speak, but his smile and the shine in his eyes revealed that he had heard her. Valentina closed her eyes and lay a kiss upon his lips. As she opened her eyes, she saw the dead expression clouding his youthful face. She stroked his cheek, her finger playing with his deep dimples, the ones she found irresistible when her stare first fell upon the muscular, short, ‘I take no shit’ cop from the mainland. ‘Goodbye, my love,’ she said and closed her eyes, giving up hope, letting the pain in her back take over.
Ioli ran towards them screaming their names. With shaking hands, she checked for a pulse. Alexandro, her rookie partner, the young officer she had trained, dead. She then pushed back Valentina’s blonde hair and placed her bloody fingers upon her neck.
And there it was.
Frail, weak, an undertone.
‘Medics, quick. She is still alive...’
Chapter 34
The following day – Ending 1
I woke up feeling like most Greeks that rainy, foggy morning. Numb. Mentally numb.
Like waking up from a vivid, lucid nightmare and trying to convince yourself nothing of it was true.
Yet, it all was.
A terrorist organization had unleashed its evil upon Greece. People were executed on live TV. Every day people voted for them to die. It was seven in the morning, and the countless discussions had not ceased from the previous day. The morning news was the last thing I needed to witness. We had lost one of our own. Alexandro was dead, and Valentina’s life was held by the thread of life support. She could not breathe on her own. Fortunately, if I may use such a word in such a situation, doctors were optimistic. My wife, Tracy, twitched as I disrupted her sleeping position. Yet, she did not wake. Her subtle snoring resumed, and I crept out
of the dark bedroom.
In my navy blue boxers, I walked barefooted into the kitchen, leaving the warmth of the carpet and stepping on the cold, tiled floor. With eyes half shut –or half open, if you’re one of those optimist types- I brewed myself a nice, hot, strong Greek coffee and indulged in breathing in its rich aroma. I stuffed down a couple of Digestive Whole Grain biscuits, called my session a breakfast and was ready to return to the bedroom to deliver Tracy’s coffee and get dressed for work when my phone began to vibrate.
Unknown caller, but familiar numbering. One of the many extensions from police headquarters.
‘Captain Papacosta,’ I said, trying to sound more awake than I really was.
‘Morning, sir. Sorry for the early call. It’s Helen from the front desk. We just received a phone call from the hospital, and to be honest, I wasn’t sure who to inform. Her family is arriving mid-day from what I know, and I did not wish to wake the chief...’
She was mumbling. She was killing bees without going for the honey. ‘What happened?’
I sat down and bowed my head. I rubbed my forehead and squeezed between my eyes. ‘Thank you for calling me,’ I said as she reached the end of her sentence.
I wished I had it in me to curse.
I wished I still smoked.
Ten minutes later, I set off for Ioli’s house. I switched off the car stereo and let the downpour and my wipes provide the music. I parked outside her place and called her, informing her that I was outside. I knew she would be awake. An early bird, even before having a child, she answered after only one beep.
‘What are you doing outside?’ she said, closed the phone and appeared at the door. She signalled to me to be quiet as I walked in the rain towards her. ‘He just drank his milk. If left alone, he goes back to sleep,’ she said.
‘Mark?’ I asked about her husband.
‘At the hospital. Ten-hour shift from last night. He should be home, soon. Then our thirty minutes of meeting up and I will be off to work.’
I nodded and sat down on her orange living room sofa.
‘What brings you here so early in the morning?’ she asked, and her eyes tried to read me. ‘What’s wrong?’ her second question came as she sat down by me.
‘I got a call this morning from HQ. The hospital called. Valentina woke up last night...’
‘Sweet Jesus, that’s great...’ she began to say, then saw my face. ‘Complications?’
I shook my head. ‘No, no. Er.. Okay, there’s no easy way. She woke last night and as soon as the doctors left her to relax and get some sleep, she switched off her oxygen machine and her monitor. Doctors figure she died calmly in her sleep half an hour later...’
‘Why? Fuck, why?’ Ioli said, standing up.
‘Apparently, she left a voice message on her phone addressed to her parents, apologizing, but she did not wish to live a life that did not include Alexandro.’
Ioli chuckled. ‘She hated that small island of hers, she did. Wow, true love, huh?’
‘True love,’ I replied.
Ioli walked over to the kitchen door. ‘Whiskey and ice?’ she asked.
I opened my mouth to speak and she shot me down.
‘Don’t say anything about the time. Alcohol goes by occasion and circumstance, not a number on a ticking clock!’
Two days later – Ending 2
‘The suspect is on foot and entering an old, abandoned warehouse down at the old docks. He seems cautious, on edge. He parked miles away. More people seem to be inside...’
Police officer Taso Anastasiou spoke into his walkie-talkie. Together with his partner, they were one of the three teams following Platonas Pappas. We had not released any details, at least any formal details of what happened on the island. We wanted Platonas to believe that his father had made it off the island. It wasn’t hard to identify the bodies and discover his next of kin. The Afroudaki triplets and Salome all paused on Platonas’s photo and confirmed that he was the man that took them to Hotel Murder.
‘This is team B,’ another voice came through the speaker at Headquarters. ‘We can confirm Aristoteli Minoa is also in the building.’
We needed no more.
Special Forces surrounded the building within twenty minutes. Soon, old rusty doors were smashed in, and gunshots were exchanged.
Aristoteli took a stray bullet to the throat. A fitting end to his voice. Platonas survived with bullet wounds decorating the back of his legs. A ricocheting bullet doing most of the damage. He ended up losing both. A legless inmate for life.
The entire leadership of Greece United dead or arrested. Men and women with a sinister common goal.
Greece accepted another shock. Among those arrested, the prime minister’s daughter, two police captains and an army general stood out. Greece United was just about to get started. Hotel Murder was going to be just the beginning. The terrorist group kept records of their every move, past and future.
And with the end of the terrorist case came closure to our billionaire case. It was Apollo who murdered our missing billionaire. It was his funds and his island that made everything possible. To recruit experts in electronics, army missionaries, to set up Hotel Murder. Apollo forced the old man to secretly transfer hidden Swiss money to accounts used by Greece United.
We could only pray that it was truly an end to the murderous group.
Two weeks later – The final end
Athens wore its Christmas coat well.
As if ticking off a magical check-list. Chilly wind with fragile, short-lived snowflakes? Check. Rays of sun escaping from behind roaming clouds, illuminating the horizon of snowy mountains? Check. Giant Christmas tree dead center of Syntagma square? Check. Christmas lights all along Ermou, the city’s busiest shopping street? Check. Carol singers? Check. Smiling –even faking it for their kids- people? Check.
Yes, Christmas suited the grey, dull city well.
This year, Christmas also brought Greece back to its normal, daily rhythms. Greece United took a hard blow on society, and though the dents were still there, wounds had begun to heal. Life always goes on.
Ioli had called me and asked to meet up for a coffee. Which in Ioli’s case –and much to my delight- meant coffee, then cake, a long walk, then kebabs and ice-cold Mythos beers.
You could say, I am a man that takes risks. However, I am no fool. I wasn’t crazy enough to drive into the town center and lose my day stuck in traffic. I walked in the light drizzle, enjoying the icy droplets splaying on my thin hair and running along my face, getting caught up in my new-found wrinkles. Shallow, worm-like cavities, near invisible from a foot away, but still wrinkles. I knew they were there. They ‘good morning’ me in the mirror ever since I hit the big 5-0. Age or chemotherapy? Both? Who knew? They had been multiplying ever since. I walked to the nearest Metro station, and down into the ground I descended. Soon, I came back up to the surface at Monastiraki station. The stone-built church welcomed me to its square, with its thousand shoppers rushing to finish their shopping lists. Beggars ambled among them, their tin cup extended up front. The row of homeless near the church had vanished. Local police had removed them from all shopping and tourist areas. Athens knew well to hide its true colors from the foreigners visiting the grand city.
I was just in time to witness the last small snowflakes floating around in the air. Soon, the light drizzle from my house had followed me into town and picked up strength along the way. I headed for Plaka, and Yiasemi cafe. With the Acropolis standing majestically above me, I entered the coffee shop. The warmth from inside hugged me as I entered. The fireplace was hosting a generous log fire. Ioli was already there. She raised her hand and waved, her woolly hat still on her head. She had also just arrived.
‘Hey,’ I said, sitting down.
‘Hey, yourself. Find parking? Took me forever and I finally decided to betray my principles.’
‘No!’ I acted as if in shock. ‘You paid for parking?’
She nodded, and I chuckled. ‘What did you expect
? Christmas. I took the Metro.’
‘Clever you,’ she replied, taking off her brown coat and placing it on the back of her chair. ‘To be honest, I wasn’t expecting such... hmm... prosperity.’
‘I know what you mean, but don’t forget, even if twenty percent can’t afford to have Christmas this year, in a city of four million that’s eight hundred thousand people.’
Ioli whistled upon hearing the number. ‘But, consider this,’ I continued. ‘There’s three point two million that can. And, even if only that rich ten percent is out on the streets shopping, that’s four hundred thousand, plus the tourists and visitors from other towns...’
‘Arghhh, no more statistics, please. I get your point, Show mercy,’ she joked.
Just then we became aware of the brawny waiter standing by our table, waiting for us to notice him. Ioli ordered our coffees and two pieces of baklava, while I gazed around at the fairy-light-decked interior with the jasmine vines and the shiny white lights. The blend of aromas invaded my nose. Jasmine flowers, burning wood and steamy coffees. A war of scents.
‘So, what’s up? I asked as the waiter left our round table for two.
‘During coffee,’ she said and smiled enigmatically.
‘Okay, Mona Lisa. I have something to discuss also. I’ve been meaning to tell you but never had the guts. But, you’re right. Let’s wait for coffee.’
Ioli sat up straight, placed her arms on the cherry-wood table and leaned slightly forward. ‘You love scaring me, huh? Just tell me now, that it’s not your cancer again.’
‘It’s not cancer.’
Thankfully for Ioli’s nerves, coffees and sweets arrived soon. We took our first sips in silence and then Ioli placed her porcelain cup back on its diamond-shaped plate.
‘I’m tired...’
‘Logical. You’re a working mother, married to a doctor who spends more hours at the hospital than at home...’
‘I’m tired of dead bodies,’ she interrupted me. ‘The game doesn’t excite me anymore. Solving the mystery and getting the bad guy. I feel like I’ve played my part. I gave my all to serve and protect.’
Hotel Murder: The most gripping, page-turning mystery of the year (Greek Island Mysteries Book 5) Page 16