‘But she killed herself, no?’
I did not want to reveal that she was murdered.
‘Guilt goes a long way.’
He closed his eyes. He remained still.
‘I cannot help. I give you my blessings and may our Lord help you and shine light into your darkness. Have a nice day.’ He got up quickly and walked away. We were left alone.
‘Well, that was helpful,’ Ioli remarked.
‘He knows.’
‘I bet he knows the whole story, but fuck if that helps us.’ She turned towards Christ. ‘Sorry.’ She looked round at me. ‘If mama knew I swore in church…’ She ran her index finger across her throat.
Chapter 26
Alexis Callis awoke later than usual. Much later than the dawn awakenings he had grown used to. He felt drawn to the sunrise. People were always amazed, and clapped at fireworks that lived only for a second in the night sky, but never did he see anyone clap at a sunrise. So, he did. He woke up every morning and sat on his porch swing and clapped at the sunrise. Every day, the picture and its colorings were different.
A retired art teacher with a dead wife and no kids to speak of (his dear Martha could not bear children and that was fine by him), he had nothing but time. Time to do what he loved. See the sunrise, garden, cook, watch awful TV shows, get drunk at all hours and make sweet, tender love to dead bodies. Alexis always knew he was different. Always.
Many decades back, a wounded cat found refuge in his nursery’s playground. It died during the cold, winter night. The next day, a group of pre-schoolers stumbled upon its body. All the kids screamed with horror and ran behind Miss Kyriaki’s flowery dress. She slowly walked around the thick oak tree, to witness a three year old Alexis holding the dead cat in his arms, cuddling it with tenderness shown to a newly bought teddy bear.
During his teenage years, a time when all boys get their first boners, either by thinking of a specific girl or any pair of boobs, he got his first by thinking of the old lady next door. She had died and he had seen her lifeless body carried away. The week after, he had his first wet dream. He awoke in frigid sweat and with a gooey substance on his lower belly. He cried from guilt. He had dreamt of sneaking in the morgue and raping a young girl’s body. He was thrusting away; gazing in her hollow eyes.
He never acted on his impulses. His own thoughts sickened him to his core. He fought hard to be normal. At college, he asked Easy-Voula out on a date. Voula was the sort of girl that declared girls should not put out until the fourth date, but always got screwed on the first. A virgin Alexis sat nervously in his car as Voula waited for his move. He kissed and groped her. His penis paid no attention. It took Voula, who was always up for a challenge, ten minutes into an expert blow job to get him hard. She was well repaid for her efforts. Used to six minutes-then-explode twenty year olds, the half an hour Alexis spent inside her, pleasantly surprised her. In the end, Alexis could not take it anymore. He closed his eyes, thought of the dead girl from his dream and came all over Voula’s gravity defying boobs. That was his last piece of proof. He was not normal.
After college, he married shy, good little Christian girl Martha for ‘society’s eyes’, for the sake of acceptance. It shut his mother up well and proper. He slept with Martha twice a week and every Saturday with a corpse. He lied about a late night art lesson. He stole corpses from the village graveyard and kept them in his shed, out in his grandfather’s field. He kept them for a while, had his fun and returned them to their resting ground.
Today, he awoke late. He prepared his morning coffee, put on his dark green robe and stepped outside to inspect his garden. Yesterday’s heavy rain worried him. His baby tomatoes were sensitive. He stood outside, glad of the now clear sky. The morning rain came and went. His shadow, a puddle around his feet. The midday sun floating in the canvas sky.
Yesterday, he killed for the first time. It shocked him how easy it was to kill John. He watched the blood flow out of him. Ready and eager to leave, it came to him. A twisted epiphany. John was alive no more. He was a corpse, just like all the rest. He happily discovered a condom in his wallet and smiled at his luck. It was the warmest dead body he had ever been inside of. He came within minutes.
Just the thought of the previous day got him aroused. He soon realized little Alexis was peaking out from his robe, tall and proud. He ran inside, closing the door behind him. He dropped his robe to the tiled floor. He masturbated. Twice.
The rest of the day, what was left of it, passed by uneventfully. He cooked himself a terrific English breakfast. He had studied for a year in London and while he hated the British cuisine, he fell for the rich flavored breakfast. Since then, he indulged himself in milky black tea, juicy back bacon, fatty sausages, scrambled eggs and baked beans on toast. He then painted for a while, took a hot shower that left his skin rosy red and naked as he was, he fell on the sofa and turned on the TV. Five hours later and he decided on a run, down at the beach. He dressed warm; you did not want a cold at his age. The bugs never leave you.
A black-sand beach, Monolithos beach, stretched for miles. In the summer, families roamed the area. Now, it lay deserted.
The sound of the waves echoed through the valley and hit against the tall rocks that ran along the beach. The weak sun reached its lowest point and the watermelon slice of a moon had already appeared in the sky.
Alexis gazed around him, taking in the colors and the serenity. He took in one deep breath for dramatic effect and began to jog. The wind, though calm, flew around icy. He tried to think where he had read that the cold was supposed to be good for you. It sure did not feel like that.
The orange color faded from the sky. The sun had half dipped into the Aegean sea when he sensed that he was not alone. He stopped. He looked around. Apart from a few noisy seagulls and a couple of fishing boats on the horizon, he stood alone. He continued to jog when he heard a twig snap.
‘Hello?’ He approached the bushy Acacia tree next to the rocks. The tree shook.
‘Why are you following me? Come out! I must warn you that I used to box in college.’ He tried to keep his voice from shaking.
‘Really?’ A deep voice came from right behind him. A rock hit him on the back of his head. He fell to the ground unconscious.
He woke up, five minutes later, a result of the icy water splashed on his face. Blindfolded and tied up, he lay on the ground.
‘Let me go, please, why are you…’
‘Shut the fuck up, you old pervert!’ The same deep voice. It echoed as if they were in a small, closed space. Maybe one of the many little caves along the beach.
‘Ready to pay for your sins?’ a soft, whispery voice asked, from lips right next to his ear.
He fought to move, but he was tied down well. He felt two hands pull down his track suit bottoms.
‘Ugh, the nasty fuck doesn’t wear underwear,’ the whispery voice said, getting louder.
For a moment, Alexis got excited at the idea of this being a sexual attack. He was always up for new things.
‘Open your mouth,’ ordered the soft voice. He did. But what he felt in his mouth was a hard piece of wood.
‘That should keep him quiet,’ the deep, manly voice said, followed by sadistic laughter. ‘Bring me the acid.’
‘Say goodbye to your nasty necrophiliac cock!’
The sizzling sound of the acid gave his attackers shivers down their spines. They enjoyed watching him scream in silence. Alexis’s eyes were at their largest and tears of pain formed a steady flowing river down his cheeks. The wood served its purpose well. They were alone on the beach, however they could not risk upsetting the quiescent bats.
‘Let’s put him out of his misery.’
That was the last thing Alexis ever heard. They both stabbed him with broken beer bottles left by teenagers and love making couples in the cave. His throat was torn open and his chest disappeared under a pool of blood.
Chapter 27
I awoke drained. Even the gossamer hotel pillow could not prevent my neck fr
om aching. We had spent the previous day processing the crime scene in the cave. Lights were set up, bats were forced to stay outside and we worked until the clock struck three in the morning. Ioli looked worse off than me. She always took pride in not being one of those women who act helpless during those days of the month. But now, every muscle in her body vibrated beneath her skin. Her period, once a steady flow for a couple of days, seemed to drag on and on. On top of all, her throat felt sore and her nose gave the first signs of a cold.
Today was not going to be any easier.
While we were in the cave, Constable Christina visited the victim’s house. Everything looked normal, as normal as an art teacher’s house could be, but the stench from upstairs, smelled anything but normal. The whole house reeked of death. With her gun extended in front of her, Christina slowly walked up the stairs. She stood in shock, having pushed open the door of the master bedroom. Sitting up in bed, dressed in new clothes, lay a woman’s corpse. A very old corpse. Blood had not flown through her for months; her dark purple skin had disintegrated to the bone. Eyes and hair were long gone and her remaining nails were ready to fall off.
A video recorder set up, all alone on the bedside table. Calm as she could be in such a situation, Christina wore her gloves and picked up the device. Moments later, she had regretted pressing play. Alexis Callis had filmed all his sexual encounters with his dead companions. Christina’s stomach could not handle anymore. She ran to the toilet and released her fish and mashed potatoes. The video kept on playing. An over excited Alexis Callis came all over the corpse’s face, gave it a gentle kiss and carried the body away.
‘You were good, baby! Another one for my yard collection!’ he joyfully said.
Yes, today was not going to be any easier.
Today, we and the local police were going to dig up the old man’s garden. Soon, we were going to be faced with all the bodies he did not return.
The uncomfortable silence broken only by the sound of our shovels. No one spoke. Maybe, we were all too afraid of losing our breakfast in front of strangers.
Ioli dug away. She seemed the toughest, yet her insides screamed in disgust. It sickened her to the core that someone would steal a body from its resting ground and violate it in such a gruesome manner.
We pulled twelve bodies out of the soil, most tangled up amongst tomatoes and carrots. Eight women, three men and a teenager. The teenager was the last straw for Ioli. She cursed as she walked far away from the scene and headed down to the beach. She sat on a large rock and let the tears loose. She cried, ignoring the picture-postcard sky opposite her. Her tears had dried by the time I sat beside her.
‘There’s too much evil in the world,’ she said, her make-up smeared in the corners of her eyes.
‘And it’s our job to lessen it by catching the bad guys.’
‘But it never stops. It’s like Lernaia Hydra. You chop one head off and two grow in its place. We have been here for a few days and body after body after body…’ She exhaled deeply. ‘And my mind is driving me crazy. In Chania, family and friends kept my mind away from my job. I feel like we are living… death, twenty four seven.’
‘We are all driven crazy by our thoughts. I know what you mean. When I was married, no matter what my eyes saw during the day, I could always count on unwinding at home with Stacy and Gaby. Now, the job is all I have. And the longer you live alone, the right side of your brain speaks louder and more often to you. Don’t stay single too long, Cara.’
‘Last thing on my mind at the moment…’
Witnessing death and chasing murderers can haunt you for life. But Ioli Cara was one tough cookie. She would one day learn to balance this life with a married life.
Chapter 28
Dr. Ariadne Metaxa’s office
‘You talk with great admiration whenever you speak about Ioli,’ Ariadne pointed out, stroking her chin.
‘One of the best human beings I have ever met,’ I smiled.
‘She is not your daughter.’ She uttered the words and watched them take effect.
‘I don’t need to fill the gap. I would have been drawn to Ioli and be fond of her, even if Gaby were still alive.’
‘What about the gap Stacy left?’
‘For the best. I was married for over twenty years. Marriage has its ups and downs and now I enjoy being alone.’
‘You got married once. The idea of growing old with someone is not appealing to you anymore?’
I looked away. After Gaby’s death, I had lost the will to live. I decided to dedicate myself to work, to my dangerous job. Leave this world, having done some good. Ariadne leaned forward, waiting for an answer.
‘I’ll grow old with my job.’
‘That sounds normal to you?’
‘What is normal?’
‘I must admit that the boundaries of normal are forever changing. However, working yourself to death is not the best of plans.’
‘For the time being, it’s my only plan.’
‘It’s up to you to make more.’
Awkward silence.
‘Shall I get back to the story?’
‘Oh, yes. You skipped a part, though. How did you discover the necrophiliac’s body in that cave?’
‘I was going to get there. A fisherman called it in. From his boat, he saw two men attack another and drag him into a cave. He had no phone or radio, so he called it in hours later.’
‘Not very clever of him to be out at sea with no means of communication.’
I shrugged. ‘We visited the fisherman after leaving the beach. After we both had scalding showers and wore lavender-smelling clothes, that is. Anything to get rid of the smell of death.’
‘How is it to have death, right there, in front of you?’
‘It gets to you eventually. You never get used to it. You just learn to cope with it better.’
Chapter 29
The majestic winter sky sailed above. A bright spot for sore eyes that witnessed too much death. A few puffy clouds shined orange as they swam across the clear sky. The fisherman lived alone in a little, wooden hut built on his field of olive trees, meters from the sea and his life’s companion, his fishing boat. The gates were open and we drove in. He expected us, after having called in the attack. He sat on a green wooden bench, underneath a large, towering, centenarian olive tree. A familiar figure sat beside him.
I parked the car and wondered where their cars were. The fisherman, a grey haired man in his early fifties, jumped up and opened two picnic chairs opposite the old, rustic bench.
‘Father Agvoustino,’ I said and nodded him hello.
‘Captain, Miss Ioli,’ his serene voice left his lips. ‘I should be on my way. Christo needed someone to talk to. He felt bad, having not reported the attack earlier.’
‘Maybe the good old teacher would still be alive,’ Christo said.
‘The good old teacher was a necrophiliac and had stolen bodies buried in his yard,’ Ioli cut to the chase. Christo’s huge, turquoise eyes opened wide and his jaw fell to the ground. Disgust and disbelief painted Father Avgoustino’s face. Both looked as if they had something to say, but had difficulty finding the right words. It’s not every day that you learn about your neighbor’s secret life.
‘Can I offer you something to drink?’ the fisherman kindly asked. Ioli and I both refused with a shake of the hand and a faint smile.
‘Father?’
‘I must be going, my child. The hour is late and I have to be at the homeless shelter for dinner time.’
‘Are there many homeless?’ Ioli asked. An island of 17000 with a homeless shelter?
He smiled and looked up to meet the tall girl’s brown eyes. ‘No, thank God. We just call it that. Only a couple of people staying there, but we ran it for all. We feed many families in need. Now, with the crisis, things are tight for everyone. I make sure they know Jesus is there for them.’
She nodded with apathy and turned to sit down.
‘Maybe you would like to come, my child
?’ he continued.
‘Who? Me?’ Ioli asked, slightly confused.
‘Yes. You have a storm going on in your soul. Many things tormenting you. Helping others is the best therapy.’
‘Thanks for the offer, but I have work. I help others by catching the real evil ones out there.’
‘Too much death, too much evil for such young eyes. Don’t let Satan get the best of you. Have a good evening,’ he said, bowed his head and turned. Ioli watched in silence as the old man walked up to the main road.
‘Is he walking back to town?’ I asked the fisherman.
‘Oh, yes. Father Avgoustino always walks. Keeps him healthy. He says our body was given to us by God and we must respect it. It is our temple in which He lives.’ He looked up and made sure Father Agvoustino was out of sight. ‘And now he is gone, I can fill up my temple with some Assos smoke.’ He placed the cigarette between his lips. He spoke as he lit the little, delicious, cancer stick. ‘My grandfather used to work for Papastratos Tobacco back in the late forties. Finest Greek cigarettes, he used to say. Please, sit.’
‘Christo, you called the police station around ten o’clock last night. But you said that you had been out at sea. What time did the incident take place? What exactly did you see?’
He took in more Assos smoke. His cigarette came alive at its end, glowing red. He exhaled a dark cloud of smoke that scattered in the light breeze and headed to sea.
‘It must have been near seven. I am not sure how far out I was, but I have good eyes, I can assure you. I was day dreaming, watching the shore getting further and further away. I saw a man jogging along the beach. I was ready to turn and captain my boat to deeper waters, when I saw two men jump him and hit him over the head. The man fell to the ground and they picked him up and took him into one of those little caves behind the beach. I cursed when I realized that I had left my cell phone at home…’ He bowed, ashamed to look us in the eye. ‘I… I thought of the price of gas and I did not want any trouble, so at first I headed out to sea, but I couldn’t fish. My mind was on the attack. I felt bad as a human, you know? So I returned to shore, drove home and called the police.’ He lifted his shaking right hand and saw that his cigarette was just a tower of ash. He threw it aside and lit another.
Greek Island Mysteries Boxed Set (Books 1-2-3): Gripping, psychological mystery/thrillers destined to shock you! Page 34