Greek Island Mysteries Boxed Set (Books 1-2-3): Gripping, psychological mystery/thrillers destined to shock you!

by Luke Christodoulou

  ‘‘Believe me Professor,’’ I said, ‘‘this is the most interesting lesson I have ever attended. Please go on.”

  ‘‘Well, when it was time for Athena to be born, Zeus had terrible migraines. Migraines so bad he asked the god Hephaestus to cut his head wide open. Myth tells how a full grown Athena was born out of his brain. Thus, she is considered to be the goddess of wisdom.”

  ‘‘What can you tell us about Hera and her symbols?’’ I asked.

  ‘‘Hera!’’ he said with fascination. ‘‘Hera was the wife of Zeus. She was also his sister, but such details did not matter back then,’’ he said with a smile and Ioli smiled back at him. He was quite the good looking guy and I could sense some chemistry filling the air between the two.

  ‘‘She had various symbols, mostly animals like the cow and the lion. Her most known symbol, though, was the pomegranate which symbolised fertility. Hera was the goddess believed to bless the woman’s genitals as to be fertile and bear many strong and healthy children. Hera, we could say, was the queen of the gods. However, she was not envied. Alas, Hera was cheated on, on way too many occasions. Perhaps that was the price she had to pay as she was married to The God. Zeus could do and act as he pleased and he often broke her heart,’’ the professor added.

  Ioli and I exchange a look and it was obvious that we were thinking the same thing. Not only did we have a killer who killed based on Greek mythology, we had an intelligent and erudite killer. A killer who did his research and those are always the worst kind of killer. The ones who conceive their sick, twisted plans and then execute them to the point of perfection, leaving little for the police to go on. He had managed to find a couple who were Zeus and Hera. A powerful man who often cheated on his wife and gave her a broken heart. He had managed to find a model to create his Aphrodite. He did his homework, but now we had a way to catch him.

  ‘‘Professor, I will need you to provide me with a list of the Greek Gods, their birthplaces or special islands, their symbols and anything else that could help us on this investigation,’’ I said.

  ‘‘Ok. Of course, I will. Just answer me something, Captain. Were other people murdered like this poor girl?’’ he asked.

  ‘‘Yes,’’ Ioli answered and extended her hand and laid it above his.

  ‘‘That is why we need your help. Maybe if we understood where he might strike next, we could save a person’s life.”

  The professor smiled back at Ioli and their eyes met.

  ‘‘Pen and paper, please,’’ he said with a certainty in his voice and Ioli got up to ask Giorgo for some paper. I pulled out my blue Bic pen from the right pocket of my unironed, wrinkled, plain Beige shirt and placed it on the table next to the professor’s soft looking hands. We remained silent during the two minutes it took Ioli to return with a bunch of white A4 papers.

  We left the professor alone to consider the task which we had provided him with and walked over to the much-needed shade of an old olive tree to discuss our case. Believe it or not it was even hotter here than back in Crete. I could feel the sweat on my back and my shirt began sticking to my body. I was not made to be a Greek. The heat and I rarely got along. Maybe I would have been more successful as a Swede or a Russian.

  ‘‘I could have googled the Gods and printed the info out, you know,’’ she said with a smile and gave me one of her not-so-annoying-anymore nudges.

  ‘‘Why? To free the professor’s time, so you could flirt with him?’’ I joked back.

  ‘‘I do not know what you are referring to, Captain,’’ she said all formal and we both laughed.

  ‘‘Sick bastard killing by mythology, huh?’’ she said when my laughter died down.

  ‘‘Everybody needs a plan, right?’’

  ‘‘To be honest, I never had a case with so little to go on. I know what everybody says about me being some kind of top-of-my-class police star and all that, but really I did have the luck of mostly clean-cut cases. And now this. I don’t know if I am intimidated or just so pissed off that I want to work my ass off to catch this fucker.’’

  ‘‘We all have such cases. You’re doing just fine Cara. And for my turn for honesty, it has been quite a while since I’ve worked with a great partner that I actually get along with.”

  And yes, I earned myself another Julia smile and of course a nudge/punch on my right shoulder.

  ‘‘Well, aren’t you one for compliments today. So, you had cases like this before in New York?’’

  ‘‘Most serial killers plan their murders carefully and execute them to the point of perfection. If they don’t follow their rules, their pattern precisely that’s how they end up making mistakes and get caught. I remember this one case. The New York Annihilator the papers called him. A sick ‘enter-curse-word-here’ as you would call him. He melted his victims with a blend of acid in their own bathtubs leaving behind no evidence at all. His victims had absolutely nothing in common. He killed men and women of every age randomly. The only connection was the fact that all victims lived alone. He killed thirteen people before we finally caught him.”

  ‘‘How did you finally catch him?’’

  ‘‘Got lucky. An old lady living across the street from the 12th victim noticed a suspicious minivan and wrote down the plates. Police went round his house to ask a few questions and he poured acid on them from the top window as they knocked on his door. Unfortunately, one cop did not make it and the other suffered severe burns on his left arm.”

  ‘‘Shit!’’ Ioli commented as I ran my right hand all down my left arm. That is when I noticed the professor approaching us, papers in hand.

  ‘‘Here you go,’’ the professor announced and gave me the paper in an attempt to keep me busy as he talked to Ioli. An attempt I must say worked. I looked down upon the scribblings and was amazed by the knowledge he had written off by heart in such a small amount of time and had categorized it for us too.

  The twelve Olympian Gods

  Zeus – Symbols: oak, eagle, sky, thunder – Known for his erotic escapades – born in Crete, Mount Ida

  Hera – Symbols: Cow, lion, pomegranate – Known for giving fertility and known for her jealousness – Holy Island: Samos

  Poseidon – God of the sea and of earthquakes – Symbols: His trident, water, horses, dolphins – no particular birthplace or holy island/city

  Demetra – Sister of Zeus – Goddess of the harvest – Symbols: various grains, wheat – known for changing the seasons

  Athena – Daughter of Zeus – Goddess of wisdom – Symbols: owl, armor, olive tree – Known as being against marriage - Holy City: Athens

  Hestia – Sister of Zeus – The quiet one – Known for giving health, protector of doctors/healers – Known symbol: the fireplace – Also born in Crete

  Apollo – Son of Zeus – God of the sun, of music and of future telling – Symbols: musical instruments, mostly the Lyra – Born on the small island of Delos

  Artemis – Daughter of Zeus and the twin sister of Apollo – Goddess of the moon and of hunting – Most known symbols: the deer – Also born on the island of Delos

  Ares – Son of Zeus – The God of War – Symbols: various weapons and the colour red, also animals like the dog and the boar – no associated island/town though worshipped more in the towns of Sparta and Mani

  Aphrodite – Daughter of Uranus – Goddess of beauty – Symbols: Roses, dove, mirror, swan, shells, myrtle-Born in Cyprus.

  Hephaestus – Son of Hera (Maybe Zeus) – God of metalworking and of fire-Symbols: Hammer, anvil, tongs – Major cult following on the island of Lemnos (The island Hera threw him after giving birth to him)

  Hermes – God of Commerce, the flying God, the messenger of the Gods, the protector of thieves – Symbol: His winged sandals – no particular island or town

  If I may add: besides these 12 Gods, ancient Greeks had variations of the twelve Gods. The most found were the omission of Hestia and the adding of either

  -Dionysus – God of wine and of a good time – Islan
d of Naxos

  -Hades – The oldest brother of Zeus – One of the major Gods, but he never lived on mount Olympus – God of the Underworld

  Some lists even went as far as adding Hercules.

  Also, there were many other Gods and demigods and entities that the ancients believed in.

  If I could be of any further assistance, do not hesitate to call me (my USA cell number is 001 718 917 646 347). I will be visiting the Greek Islands next and maybe Rome before heading back home.

  A feeling of despair succeeded the initial feeling of jubilation. We had a rough pattern, but what were we supposed to do? Protect the entire city of Athens? Police several islands with tens of thousands of locals and even more tourists? The thought that our deleterious killer was most likely planning on killing another ten people or so would not leave my mind. I read through the papers again, only smiling at the end. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciated the professor’s willingness to help but his phone number was an obvious ‘‘here’s my number’’ for Ioli. I looked across at the two of them making small talk and awkwardly smiling at each other. I took out my phone and with a sigh I opened my contact’s list. A… B… C… Chief… another sigh and I pressed call.

  I must have been on the phone with the chief a good twenty minutes before I noticed at the corner of my eye, Captain Filippou standing a few meters away from me. As tactically as I could, I managed to close the conversation with the chief.

  ‘‘Yes, Captain Filippou?’’

  ‘‘My men arrested a man a few miles down the road. He was driving way over the speed limit in an old pickup truck. When he saw the police block he turned off the main road. My men followed him and forced him to pull over. He cursed and yelled at them that he did nothing wrong. Oh, and you’re going to love this. When asked where he was last night he said at home sleeping as he just got back from Crete yesterday morning!’’

  I called over to Ioli that we were off and from the tone of my voice she knew something important had happened. She quickly said a goodbye and a thank you to the professor and ran to catch up with Captain Filippou and me.

  ‘‘Let’s go with my car,’’ the captain suggested, much to my relief of not having to sit in the back of a patrol car.

  ‘‘The suspect is being detained at a local station just five minutes away, get in,’’ he said as he beeped open his black series 3 BMW.

  ‘‘Must pay better in Cyprus,’’ I whispered to Ioli and we exchanged guilty smiles like naughty school children not wanting to be heard by their teacher.

  “Still love my little car.”

  “Yes, I have noticed,” I joked as I recalled how she would walk around her Opel every time she returned to it, to check for dents or scratches. Or worse, both.

  “How did it go with the chief?”

  “He wants it all very hush-hush. Don’t let the papers know it is the same killer and so on. As long as we have what seems to be a killing of a married couple, he is happy. Bad publicity for the islands if news gets out about a serial killer.”

  “I was hoping that now with a third victim we would be getting a bigger team.”

  She was right. The two officers in Vathy had pretty much wrapped up their local investigation of the murder of Mrs Blair and only two men from the force back in Crete were assigned full time to our case and they were mostly caught up with checking flights, rentals and interviewing people around Mr Blair’s hotel and murder site.

  “We’re here,” the captain announced, interrupting my flow of thought.

  The small local station of Pissouri village was literally five minutes away. A local policeman welcomed us all formally and led us to the only holding cell the old building had.

  A brawny tattooed man wearing worn-out, ripped army trousers and a tight, black T-shirt was sitting down with his fists clenched together on the table. Three chairs stood opposite him waiting for our arrival. He looked up with obvious fury in his green eyes as we walked into the room.

  ‘‘I am Captain Filippou…’’

  ‘‘Great!’’ the suspect said angrily. ‘‘Maybe you can tell me why the hell am I here!’’

  ‘‘Mr Stelio, you avoided a police roadblock and you resisted arrest by yelling and cursing officers of the law!’’ the Captain said calmly as he sat down in the middle chair opposite the suspect. This was our case, but this was his jurisdiction. As Stelio did not say anything the captain continued by introducing us. I sat down on his right and Ioli on his left.

  “Do you wish to have an attorney present?”

  “Why? Are you arresting me?” the flippant forty-year old said.

  “No, but you have the right to have your lawyer present during questioning.”

  “I don’t need that greedy bastard charging me one hundred euro just to sit here and warm the freaking chair!” he snapped in a nasal, quavering voice.

  “Ok, then. Let’s get this going.”

  “Ooh, yes, please. Let’s! Nothing better to do!” he rudely said.

  ‘‘Do you have a reason for your behaviour, Mr Stelio?’’ the captain asked.

  ‘‘No. I saw no road block. That was the turning I always take to go home, ok?’’

  ‘‘There are no houses nearby the exit. Where were you really going?’’

  ‘‘Home! Are you calling me a liar? I take that exit because I enjoy the scenery of the vine fields,’’ he sarcastically remarked.

  ‘‘And all the cursing towards the officers?’’

  ‘‘I don’t like being bothered. And I don’t like cops, ok? Meddling in people’s businesses all the time for stupid reasons when you should be fighting real crimes, you know?’’

  ‘‘A murdered girl is not a real enough crime for you?’’ Ioli asked.

  The suspect sat up all uncomfortable. His facial muscles relaxed and his voice tone was lowered to a civilised standard.

  ‘‘What? A girl was murdered? Wait… and you think that… no, no… I had nothing to do with any of this… I… I thought you just picked me up for avoiding the road block. This… this is some serious shit.’’

  ‘‘Yes, Mr Stelio. This is indeed some serious shit. Now, do you want to start working with us and tell us exactly why you were acting so suspicious?’’ I asked.

  Stelio looked up at the cheaply painted ceiling and with a deep sigh, he slowly lowered his head.

  ‘‘I had been out catching ampelopoulia!’’ he admitted all guilty, to mine and Ioli’s total confusion.

  ‘‘You serious?’’ the captain said annoyed.

  ‘‘Yeah, that’s why I avoided the road block,’’ the guilty, dim-witted man admitted.

  ‘‘Sergeant!’’ the captain called out.

  ‘‘Yes, sir?’’ the interrogation room’s door opened.

  ‘‘Have you finished with searching the pickup truck?’’

  ‘‘Yes, sir. Nothing suspicious. Just some sticky sticks used for bird catching and some poor dead ampelopoulia in the back.’’

  ‘‘Thanks, that’ll be all,’’ the captain said disappointed.

  Birds! Ampelopoulia, from what we found out later on, were a Cyprus delicacy enjoyed for many years throughout the island. However, with the island’s admission to the European Union and under pressure from wildlife protection committees, the government banned all hunting of the birds and outlawed their sell island-wide.

  ‘‘How do we know this is not just a clever alibi? Where were you last night Stelio?’’ I asked.

  ‘‘Please, I’m sorry for my bad behaviour. I was at home sleeping. I was exhausted. Just returned from Crete, you see. I was on holiday with my girlfriend. Call her. She will tell you.”

  ‘‘When did you go?’’ Ioli asked.

  ‘‘Three days ago. Just a short getaway trip.”

  Eric Blair was killed a week ago. This was not our killer. My instinct was screaming out that this guy could not have planned such complicated murders.

  ‘‘Sergeant!’’

  ‘‘Sir?’’

  ‘‘Come, get his s
tatement, check his flight details and release him.’’

  ‘‘Thank you for your time,’’ he said dryly to our now former suspect and we exited the room.

  ‘‘It has been a long day for you. Let me drop you off at your hotel and if anything new comes up, I’ll be in touch,’’ the captain said and disappointed with another dead end we followed him to his car.

  *****

  Chapter 12

  New York, 1972

  The travelling bus was getting closer and Katie could see the Empire State City rising up from the endless horizon.

  During the entire journey, Katie’s nose had never left the window glass. She wanted to see everything. Everything she had been missing for the last seventeen years of her God-fearing life. Her eyes were exploring every house, every tree and every little town. Katie had never really left Dayton before. On the one occasion where her family ventured out of Dayton’s town limits, it was to go to a religious study meeting in a nearby village. She could not even remember the name of the village as all she could recall from the tender age of seven was that she had to behave like a good little Christian girl.

  As the crowded bus entered the city, Katie was ecstatically excited. She was in New York. With all its tall gleaming buildings and with all the millions of people who had the luck to not be raised by her parents back in Dayton and did not have to go to her harrowing school or her boring church. The bus turned into the station on Canal Street, entered between two other buses and came to a complete halt.

  Katie stepped off the bus with eyes wide open and strangely enough with no fear. She had no money, besides the pocket money she had taken to school that day, no clothes, no home to go to, but Katie felt no fear. She had been liberated. She had been released and she had power. The greatest power of all, right there the whole time, between her legs. She saw how those boys went crazy for her. She saw how the foolish boys at her school thought of just one thing and it was that one little thing that Katie was planning on using to get ahead. No more hiding. No more suffocating. She would be who she wanted to be. This was Day One of living under Katie’s rules.