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

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Greek Island Mysteries Boxed Set (Books 1-2-3): Gripping, psychological mystery/thrillers destined to shock you! Page 17

by Luke Christodoulou


  As casual as he could be, he strolled into the crowded police station and stood in line behind an obese ginger lady shouting rudely about her neighbour’s dogs that were driving her mad. He waited patiently and without realising, he started whistling as the kind, young police officer behind the reception explained to the lady how to fill in a complaint form.

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Good morning,” he smiled to her. No response.

  “I’m here to turn myself in,” he continued.

  She looked up into his eyes.

  “For what, sir?” she asked, not expecting his next words.

  “I am the Olympus Killer,” he said firmly and continued on smiling.

  *****

  Chapter 25

  New York, 1986

  “Nooooo,” Cricket screamed as he woke up once again in a cold sweat.

  He sat up in his bed, kicked the blue sheets away from his body and wiped the sweat from his forehead. His hands were still shaking as he tried to pull his mind away from the dream. It was not something unusual to him. He dreamt almost every night of the horrors he lived with Alexandros during the last two years.

  Tonight he dreamt once again about the first time Alexandros raped him.

  He was only eleven at the time. As always, Katie was at work. Night shift until two after midnight. Katie. That’s what he called her. He hadn’t called her mum in over a year. She thought it was a teenage outburst, but the truth was that the thought of calling her mum turned his stomach inside out.

  Alexandros was busy writing his never-ending book in his bedroom.

  “A good chance to shower and go to sleep without seeing him,” young Cricket had thought. It had become unbearable to undress and head for a shower as Alexandros would always have him perform in the nude.

  One time he had to be the god Hermes and run around, the other he had to be Hephaestus and limp around. On one occasion he forced him to drink a whole bottle of red wine and dance naked shouting “I am Dionysus!” while masturbating. The worst was when he had to be Aphrodite. Alexandros always demanded fellatio when he was Aphrodite.

  He hopped in the shower and started to wash speedily. Unfortunately, the door had no key. As he heard the door open he closed his eyes in sadness. He had given up on fighting and yelling.

  “Yes, Father Zeus?”

  “My sweet Poseidon!” a naked Alexandros replied.

  “Makes sense, I am in water,” the boy thought with slight relief he was not Aphrodite.

  “Let me help you,” Zeus said as he stepped into the white bathtub and stood behind him.

  He picked up the bar of soap and slowly started to wash the boy’s body. He then picked up the shampoo, shook out a blob on his hand and caressed Poseidon’s hair. Suddenly, he grabbed the boy violently by the hair and forced him to bend over, hands placed on the tiled wall. Poseidon felt Zeus’ hands washing him between his buttocks. Zeus stood right behind him and said in his almighty Zeus-voice, “and now you will accept your father god in you!”

  He struggled to get away, but he was no match to Zeus. The more he struggled to free himself, the more it hurt. The more he hurt, the more Zeus seemed to be enjoying himself.

  “Thank you Poseidon,” he said minutes later and casually walked out the bathroom, leaving him curled up in the tub as blood from his insides became one with the running hot water. He did not move for what seemed to be a century before managing to lift himself up, dry his aching body and slowly and painfully carry himself to bed.

  He never showered again without Katie being home. Not that that saved him from being raped every other fortnight either in his room or on the living room sofa.

  Two years of pure hell. Cricket knew well that this could not go on any longer. He had begged Alexandros to leave him alone, yet to no avail. All he received was a punch in the face and a kick in the stomach for even asking. A week later he tried tactfully to speak to Katie.

  “Can I come with you to work?”

  “Baby, you got homework to do. Besides, at work… I work! I can’t keep an eye on you for eight hours!”

  “I don’t want to stay home with him. He is mean to me.”

  “Baby, he loves you. Have you any idea how much he has done for us?”

  “He has done enough alright!”

  “What’s wrong, baby?”

  “He… he…”

  “Well, spit it out.”

  “He hits me. And he shouts and curses me. Yesterday, he slapped me hard for listening to music too loud and he… he…”

  “Baby, he is just stressed bout his book. I am sure if you are quiet and well behaved, like I know my good boy is…”

  “You don’t understand! He hurts me! He’s a mean bastard and you’re a whore for abandoning me day and night with him!”

  Katie slapped him hard across the face.

  “Now, you watch your language young man! No wonder he hit you! I am so ashamed of you right now! Such language! If I hear you speak like this again…”

  “What? Gonna get your boyfriend to beat me?”

  “Go to your room!” she screamed.

  “Gladly!” he said calmly and walked off.

  At school, he hoped for a kind teacher to notice his bruises and scars, but as he was always getting into fights with his classmates and older boys of the school, nobody gave his marks a second thought.

  He was alone.

  He was the one that had to fight back.

  He quietly got out of bed, opened his door and tiptoed through the living room to their bedroom’s door. He could hear them laughing away. He kneeled down and peeked through the void of the keyhole. They were both naked and rolling around tickling each other.

  “Make love to me,” Katie whispered, and he felt nausea at the thought that she wanted him inside her. He was shocked to see how much pleasure he gave her. He stood up. He knew he could not get rid of him as long as she was around. They both had to go.

  He was always good at planning.

  ‘‘Straight A student like me should have no difficulty giving birth to a bulletproof plan.”

  “Bulletproof,” he repeated and his wild thoughts excited him.

  He tiptoed through the kitchen door and stared at the small window that lead to the outside stairway. He then walked back into the living room, over to the locked wooden buffet meuble and lifted up the purple glass vase to reveal a little shiny key. With the key he unlocked the top drawer. He pulled it open as slowly and more importantly as quietly as he could. He looked down at Alexandros’ Smith & Wesson Model 19-3 357 Magnum revolver and smiled evilly. He took the loaded gun into his hands and sat outside their door waiting for them to quiet down. Half an hour later, he was still sitting there; alert and with a guilty grin.

  Alexandros’ snoring signalled the beginning of the end.

  He got up, walked into the kitchen closing the door behind him. He opened the window, looked around to make sure no one could see him and stepped out onto the fire exit stairs. He pulled down the glass window and tapped it with the gun. A faint crack appeared. He tapped again putting a little more strength this time. He did not want to risk waking them up. Lightning lines appeared across the glass.

  “Third time lucky, as Katie always said,” he thought as he hit the window again and smashed the glass just enough to be able to put his hand through and unlock the window from its hook. He lifted up the glass window and hopped back into the kitchen. He took a deep breath, opened the kitchen door and stood outside their bedroom. The sound of snoring filled the air.

  “No more!” he screamed inside his head and entered the room gun in hand.

  He stood at the end of their king size, oak-wood bed and looked at them for a while.

  “Alexander the Great Greek General shall die tonight! And you will have no salvation! I will kill all your Gods too, you sick motherfucker!” he said as he lifted the gun and aimed at Alexandros.

  “What the…” Alexandros said sleepily as he awoke by Cricket’s words.

&nb
sp; “Goodbye,” he said and pulled the trigger, shooting Alexandros just below the left eye and blowing off part of his face.

  Katie jumped up terrified by the loud bang and started to scream at the sight of her dead lover. She froze as she turned and saw the shooter.

  “He raped me, you dumb bitch,” he said calmly and pulled the trigger again. The bullet flew through the room and hit Katie’s chest.

  Cricket then quickly opened all the drawers of the bedroom dresser and the wardrobe doors, pushed things around and quickly ran to the bathroom where he carefully washed his hands. He then dashed back to his room and hid under his bed.

  His heart was pounding away with excitement.

  Fifteen minutes later he heard the door being kicked in by the police force.

  “I knew I could count on Mrs Horowitz to call the cops,” he thought as he saw black boots moving around the apartment.

  “Police! New York Police Department! Come out with your hands in the air!”

  “Help! Help me!” he began shouting and watched as the boots filled his room. The lights were flicked on and that was his cue. He slid out from under the bed and stood there in front of the armed policemen, gun in hand. The officers raised the guns and order him to drop his weapon. He obeyed and then fainted right in front of them.

  Half an hour later as the paramedics lowered him gently down on the hospital bed, he truly felt happy, probably for the first time in his life.

  He drank, ate his hospital meal and informed the nurse that he was ready to see the detectives now. She smiled at the brave little boy and used her pager to call the attending doctor.

  He listened in as the doctor advised the detectives to take it easy.

  The curtains were pulled aside by the curvy nurse with the crooked nose and the tall doctor calmly introduced the two similar dressed detectives.

  “Is mummy and daddy ok?” he asked stressfully.

  The two detectives looked at each other.

  “He shot them! Are they OK?” he cried and interrupted their awkward moment.

  “Who shot them?”

  “The man in black. I saw him in our living room.”

  “Where were you?”

  “I was sleeping when I heard something like a glass break. I got up and as I slowly opened my bedroom door, I saw a tall man dressed in black opening the drawers in the living room. He then walked into my parents’ bedroom… that’s when… I heard Dad shout and then I heard… the gunshots…” he said as tears fell down his cheeks. He closed his eyes and started to sob.

  “I know this is hard for you, but what happened next?” the detective on the right asked.

  “I hid in my wardrobe praying he would not come into my room. That’s when I heard him jump out the fire staircase. I ran into my parent’s room… all that blood… I picked up Dad’s gun from the floor and ran back to my room. I stayed under the bed just in case he came back. That’s when the police came.”

  “My dear boy, I am sorry to have to tell you this, but your parents did not make it” the detective on the left said sympathetically, admiring the plucky -as he thought-teen.

  “Mummy’s dead?” he said in a broken voice and started to weep.

  The nurse hugged him and wiped the flow of tears falling from his eyes. They all looked at him with sadness and sorrow written across their faces. If they only knew that the tears were ones of joy!

  *****

  Chapter 26

  Ioli watched as the flickering bright light ran up the numbers before settling on six. The 6th floor. She was home. The elevator doors opened slowly. She felt exhausted. She dragged her aching body along the narrow corridor and searched for the keys to her apartment. She had gone straight from the airport to the hospital. Her parents were not answering their phone and her mind thought of the worst. She had been close to her grandma at a younger age, during a time when her parents worked, what seemed to her child’s eyes as all day and all night. Grandma picked her up from school, grandma cooked for her and later on, during her adolescence years, grandma listened patiently to all the whining about silly boys. She gave good advice too. Ioli wondered if she would hear such advice again and felt guilty for having neglected her grandmother due to her career. Thankfully, her grandmother was alive and kicking when she arrived at the hospital. She just had to “take it easy from now on” as the doctor put it.

  Old age scared Ioli. The feeling of being inadequate. Of having to be cared for like a baby. Slowly losing your body, your mind, the essence of being you.

  “And the downhill begins… poor grandma,” she whispered tiredly and closed the aged door behind her. She had missed her apartment. Her 49 square meter home. She did not have many things or much of an art sense. No paintings or ornaments of any sorts, yet the place had a certain sense of warmth about it and had everything Ioli needed, besides food that is. She always forgot to shop, forcing her to give in to late night take away meals. Though, when she did cook, everyone complimented her cooking. Generations of Cara secrets had been handed down to her and there was not a Greek dish she could not handle.

  She sat down on her single bed, took off her black heels and rubbed her feet gently. She resisted an inner feeling of lying down to sleep and gradually stood up and undressed. A hot shower always helped her enjoy a better sleep.

  As she closed her eyes, twenty minutes later, she thought of Costa and picked up her phone. No news from Costa. Only four missed calls all from her best friend Polina. She would call her in the morning. Now, she was in the company of Morpheus.

  She needed no alarm clock to raise her from her eight hour sleep. The banging on the door brought her back into the world of the living. Polina was outside the door at nine o’clock sharp.

  “I know you’re home. Your mother told me. Get up sleepy!” her voice journeyed through the thin walls and entered Ioli’s ears.

  Ioli smiled as she sat up. She had missed Polina. She had missed living normal for a while. The last couple of years she had gone from one case to another and what she feared had happened. She lived for her job and her job only.

  “Breakfast?” Polina asked as she waved two cereal bars in Ioli’s face. The two girls hugged and sat down on the living room sofa.

  “Girlfriend, where have you been the last couple of weeks? Every time I called, you didn’t pick up or the stupid phone redirected me to voice mail. Your mum said you were in Cyprus and then Mykonos…” Polina complained.

  “It is a murder case. And no, I can’t talk about it. I’ll be leaving tomorrow again so let’s talk about your favourite subject, you!”

  “Bitch!” Polina laughed out loud.

  “Well, I have been busy too. Between the shop and Vasili I don’t have much free time.”

  “Oh, the joys of marriage.”

  “Shut up. I love my time with him… you know he is talking kids already?”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, but don’t worry. I told him that I would chop it off if he dared. The cupcake shop is really taking off now and I can’t afford to be away. By the way, Petro came round the shop asking about you.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Come on, don’t be like that. He really fell for you.”

  “That’s his problem. And yours for setting me up with Vasilis’ friend.”

  “Come on, you really want to grow old and fat and live with ten cats?”

  Ioli did not answer, but Polina could read her like an open book. It was a talent of hers since nursery.

  “Why are you looking down?” she asked and then suddenly opened her eyes wide.

  “You met someone!”

  “Well, not exactly. He was a witness at the scene in Cyprus. An American professor…”

  Polina frowned and snapped, “Cyprus… American… Girl, find yourself a local, please. Stop setting yourself up for un-attachment. Anyway, go on, was he cute?”

  Ioli laughed and as she started to describe Michael, her phone rang.

  “It’s him!” she said in disbelief.

/>   “Hello?”

  “Ioli? Good morning!” his joyful voice echoed through the phone.

  “Good morning, Michael! So funny, I was just talking about you!”

  “Really? Hope only about the good things.”

  “I haven’t seen the bad yet.”

  “Well, you might just have a chance to see my naughty side tomorrow!”

  “Tomorrow?” she asked in a panic and pushed Polina’s face away from the phone.

  “You forgot our date? You promised to take me to Knossos. If you’re busy, it really is fine, I understand. I just called you out of the blue and expect you to be available and…”

  “Calm down,” she laughed. She never would have thought of blowing off work for a man and her next words surprised her. “I can arrange to be free tomorrow. When are you flying in?”

  “Tonight. Basically, early morning round three. I have booked at the Cretan Dream for two nights. I will call you in the morning then, to arrange to come pick you up.”

  “No need to rent a car. I’ll pick you up.”

  He hesitated for a minute before reluctantly agreeing, “Ok, I can’t wait. See you tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow it is! Bye Michael.”

  She checked that the line had gone dead before speaking.

  “Shit, what have I done? I’m on a case and I…”

  “You took time off for your grandmother! No one will judge you! And besides the bodies will still be there in two days, dream boy won’t!”

  “I feel guilty…”

  “Well, don’t. Now, get dressed! Let’s get you ready for tomorrow!”

  The following morning as she parked outside the five star hotel, she laughed at her racing heartbeat. Strong, free-willed Ioli acting like a school girl.

  She stood by her car and watched a smiling Michael walk all confidently towards her. She smiled back and took a step forward to kiss him on the cheek as all Greeks do. A very American Michael interpreted this otherwise and soon she was placing a soft kiss on his lips.

  “Good morning,” he said and his wide smile never left his face. “You sure you don’t want me to drive? It is a two hour drive to Knossos and I feel bad forcing you…”

 

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