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

by Luke Christodoulou

  ‘A drink,’ George answered, emphasizing the A.

  ‘Oh, come on. You’re going to lecture me on my drinking, now? Here?’

  ‘I think we should be going. We have wasted enough of their time,’ Melissa said to George, her hand caressing his shoulder.

  After the trio’s departure, it was the maids turn to show up and enter the warm room. Christina, who came in timidly, standing behind rangy Katerina, confirmed Melissa’s story. The hollow-cheeked twenty-year old sat down and with chary eyes, carefully listened to Ioli’s questions.

  ‘Yes, I spoke with her. She spoke to me about the food. She loves to cook and wanted to know more about the meal that was going to be served,’ Christina said.

  ‘Poor woman, with all those nasty scars. She must have been beautiful before the accident. You can tell by the eyes. And she is so kind. At first she seemed distant, but she gives out this gentle soulful feeling. Out of all of the guests, I feel like I know her the best,’ Katerina said. ‘No offense to the rest of the guests,’ she quickly added. ‘It’s just that most don’t bother paying much attention to the help.’

  ‘Oh, but we do,’ Ioli said. ‘I noticed your lovely perfume. Has a very distinct flowery scent, yet leaves you with a touch a lemon afterwards. I like that. The sweet and the bitter together,’ my partner said, as if she was talking with her girlfriends in a cafe in Chania.

  Katerina’s smile widened. ‘Really? I was unsure when I bought it.’

  ‘I smelled it in Irene’s bathroom, too. Did she have the same?’

  The corners of her smile journeyed back down, creating a flat line smile. ‘No, no. Mrs Zampetaki would never wear something so cheap.’

  ‘Must have been you, then,’ Ioli casually added.

  ‘Yes, I ran her bath for her.’

  ‘Were you there when she entered the room?’ I asked.

  ‘No, I was alone. Christina saw her when she brought up her tea.’

  My eyes turned in Christina’s direction.

  ‘She was in her bathrobe when I brought in the tea. She said she would drink it after her bath and told me to leave it on her bedside table. She then went into the bathroom and locked the door behind her. I then left the room and came straight back down to the kitchen.’

  ‘Closed the door,’ Ioli said.

  ‘Huh?’ the young girl with the short, curly hair, asked.

  ‘You said locked the door. The door was not locked; the key was on the outside.’

  The girl looked stunned. ‘Yes, you’re right,’ she murmured, lost in thought.

  ‘So what is it? Locked or closed?’ I asked.

  ‘She definitely locked the door behind her. She always does. I heard the key turn.’

  ‘I’ve been here longer. Christina is right. She absolutely hated it when Mr Zampetaki or the kids interrupted her bath time. It was her time, you know?’ Katerina backed up Christina’s story.

  ‘Woo, woo. Slow down,’ I said, my heart beat accelerating to warp speed. ‘Kids?’

  Both girls looked at each other. Katerina swallowed with difficulty and looked up, fixing her gaze to the corner of the long room. She then lowered her head and even though alone, she whispered to us. ‘They had another daughter. She died in that terrible airplane crash. Do you remember the one, years ago? That Olympic flight from Greece to London? She was aboard that plane.’

  ‘So, that’s why Anneta mentioned all the daughters lost in this world,’ I mumbled.

  ‘Guess riches can’t buy you happiness,’ Christina said quietly.

  ‘Or armor to protect you from tragedies,’ Ioli added. ‘Was the Zampetaki family a happy family?’ she quickly threw the question, hoping for an honest response.

  Katerina sat up uneasy. ‘I don’t think it is our place to say,’ the middle-aged maid said.

  ‘Never really saw any of them ever get along with each other. Sir never spoke to his wife, she only talked to him when she needed him to do something and their daughter only came from her studies in America to visit them once a year and even then, things were cold. Cassandra was such a kind, smiley person and I never saw her once smile at her parents,’ Christina announced in a spur of honesty. ‘What?’ she asked Katerina -who looked at her with a dropped jaw and eyes wide open. ‘It’s the truth. You know my grandma used to say that the bigger the house, the further apart the people in it and ever since I began working for this family, I realized how wise her words truly were.’

  ‘I see,’ Ioli said, while my pen scribbled everything down. ‘So, for our report, where were you while Mrs Irene took her bath?’

  ‘Together in our lounge next to the kitchen,’ Katerina answered, clearly annoyed by Christina’s honesty on the Zampetaki family bonds.

  ‘Anyone else there with you?’

  ‘No, just the two of us,’ Christina answered.

  ‘What was on the TV?’ I asked.

  ‘Deal or no deal,’ both replied in unison.

  ‘And, during the party last night?’ Ioli inquired.

  ‘We served drinks and appetizers until everyone left. Then, we stayed up for another hour cleaning up.’

  ‘Together again?’ Ioli asked.

  ‘Yes, the two of us,’ Katerina asked, the annoyance in her voice coloring each word as it came out her too-small-for-her-long-face mouth.

  ‘Christina,’ I addressed the frank, slim girl. ‘You discovered Irene Zampetaki’s body…’

  ‘Don’t remind me.’

  I smiled gently. ‘You said Mrs Irene locked the door behind her.’ She nodded in agreement. ‘How did you unlock it?’

  ‘I didn’t! The key was on the outside and the door was not locked. I had come up to ask Madame about dinner and when she did not reply, I figured she had left and opened the door to let some air into the bathroom. Mr Zampetaki is always complaining how her steamy baths with the window closed, damage the wall paint.’

  ‘So you opened the door…’ Ioli tried to help the girl focus, and return to the story.

  ‘Madame was under water. I screamed and fell back and screamed again. Besides my grandma’s body at her funeral, I have never seen a dead body before!’ Christina said, her voice becoming shaky.

  ‘Did you go near to her? Check for vital signs?’ Ioli asked.

  ‘Are you crazy?’ Christina replied, followed by a quick ‘sorry.’ Ioli waved a no problem. ‘All I did was scream, until Mr Zampetaki came.’

  ‘Did he come alone?’ I asked. ‘Was his sister with him?’

  ‘No, he was alone.’

  The awkward moment of silence that followed next, came to an end with a deafening thunder that broke through the sky outside and rain plummeted down heavier, raging down on the mansion.

  ‘That will be all,’ I said with a half-smile towards the two women. Both nodded and rushed out of the room. I exhaled deeply.

  ‘Where was his sister if he was with her at the time of death?’

  ‘Can’t wait to get Anneta in here. By the way, every cell of my body dislikes Katerina. Every time I speak to her, I get the feeling she is hiding something, or she acts as if someone is listening in and she whispers and behaves secretively,’ Ioli said, while stuffing down candy after every other word.

  ‘What if the two murders aren’t linked?’ I expressed the thought that came to life in my mind.

  ‘What are the chances of that?’

  ‘Well, what if someone took advantage of Cassandra’s murder and used it to kill Irene and staged it as a suicide? Nearly everyone saw her try to jump off the cliff.’

  ‘Sounds possible, though my candy-filled gut is screaming that all this is connected,’ Ioli said and kept devouring her sweets. She lifted a colorful nylon bag towards my eyes. ‘Care for a strawberry flavored teddy bear?’

  I declined, as more rain attacked the ‘vibrating from the constant thunders’ windows. I felt like the mansion was trying to shake itself to death. The winds grew ferocious and brought chaos to the world outside. The noise of loose garden ornaments rolling by the po
ol side and smashing against the brick garden wall blocked out the faint knocking at the door. A heavier knock followed.

  ‘Now that’s how you knock,’ Thomas’s deep voice said, and chuckled.

  ‘Let’s just get this over and done with,’ Gianni’s spoke up, and covered Thomas’s childish laughter.

  ‘Boys, behave,’ Georgia said and knocked again. Anna just rolled her eyes.

  Inside, Ioli did the same. ‘Oh, no. My family is here. Great. Get ready for four people talking all at the same time and correcting each other incessantly on mindless details.’

  To be honest, she wasn’t entirely wrong.

  It took the group of four a while to agree upon the time they left the dinner party, ranging from eleven something to one o’clock.

  ‘I went up first around eleven,’ Anna said.

  ‘No, it was later than that,’ her husband corrected her.

  ‘What time did you come up, then?’ she asked him.

  ‘I came up behind Homer and the poor girl. Before midnight… I think.’

  ‘We left just after midnight, didn’t we?’ Georgia said, asking her husband.

  ‘No, it was closer to one,’ Thomas replied.

  At least, they agreed that they were all together next to the fireplace with Ioli during Irene’s suicide.

  ‘That poor, tormented woman…’ Anna began her well-known monologue upon hearing a tragedy.

  ‘Mama, not now,’ Ioli cut her off.

  ‘Don’t interrupt your mother with that tone,’ Gianni told her off.

  ‘Can we just arrest him?’ Ioli asked, turning towards me. ‘You can be on your way, thank you,’ she continued. ‘We have many people to see.’

  ‘Have you eaten something sweet, dear? You seem agitated…’ Anna began to say, only to be cut off again by a strong ‘Mama!’ and an ice-cold glare. The four sixty-plus year olds were still discussing the time as they exited the room, leaving the door wide open. We did not speak between us. We sat and watched the open door. It’s a strange feeling anticipating, guessing who will be next. A shadowy figure appeared in the dark hallway and slowly approached the well-lit room. Homer closed the door behind him, and with an expressionless face came and sat before us.

  His broad back filled the tall back armchair while his awkwardness pervaded the high-ceiling room. He stared around at the rows of well-maintained and dustless books.

  ‘Never been in here before?’ I asked.

  ‘Oh, no. I have. Cassie gave me the grand tour on our first day here.’

  ‘How are you coping?’ Ioli asked.

  He raised his shoulders and lifted his hands. ‘I have no comparison, but I guess I am as I expected to be,’ he enigmatically replied, while a strong whiff of whiskey floated in the air as he spoke.

  Ioli accepted his answer with a half-smile and moved on. ‘On the night of Cassandra’s murder, you stated that you were together until sometime after midnight when you said your goodbyes and you went straight to bed.’

  ‘Yes, we wanted to be fresh for our wedding day. Why the hell did she go out into the storm to try on her dress…?’ Homer’s voice grew stronger, he clenched his fists and his breathing became heavier.

  ‘Where were you during Irene’s suicide? You did not come down at all since lunch,’ Ioli continued.

  ‘Did not feel like being around people much. Stayed upstairs, flicked through cable TV, played with my phone…’

  ‘Anyone that can verify this?’ I asked.

  Homer straightened up, his head tilting to one side. He looked straight at me. ‘Why does someone need an alibi for a suicide?’

  ‘Why don’t you just answer the question?’ Ioli calmly advised.

  ‘My parents. They kept on coming in and out, checking on me and my dad sat with me for most of the time. There was a documentary about how the brain functions. He loves shit like that.’

  Ioli watched as I scribbled down to verify with his parents and asked him about Cassandra’s relationship with her parents.

  ‘Weird.’

  ‘In what way?’

  ‘When I met Cassie, she never mentioned them and even when the conversation turned to our families and roots, she would always talk about other members of her family and change the subject on the first chance. It was kind of like she was… disgusted by them, somehow.’

  ‘Disgusted?’

  ‘Yes, as if she wanted nothing to do with them. I always believed she was an estranged daughter. I mean, she never even called them. Greeks in America are always on the phone with their parents. Yet, when I proposed and we decided on our families to meet, she held no argument. Imagine my surprise when I met them and they were over the moon in love with their daughter. They did everything for us, offered to pay for everything. Whenever Cosmas and Irene were with their daughter, they were all over her. Holding her hand, asking her how were things and about her life in general. She had starved them for her attention.’

  ‘And how did Cassandra react to all this attention?’ Ioli asked.

  Homer looked at his cousin and lowered his eyes. ‘To be honest with you, Ioli, she remained as cold as ever with them. I know how bad it sounds, but I had started to think she was some sort of gold digger that agreed to speak with her parents again just to use their money for the wedding. They flew us all over and today the ferry was supposed to bring over all her friends from Chania. All paid for, the bus and the ferry. They were going to buy us a house in Chania, too. She was their only child and everything they owned was hers, Cosmas often told her.’

  ‘Did she ever speak about her sister?’ I inquired.

  ‘Not really. Mostly when recalling childhood memories. It was a difficult subject for her, always bringing tears to her eyes. It sounded like they were close as children.’

  ‘Thank you, Homer,’ I said in my tone of you may excuse yourself now.

  ‘I’ll send in my parents,’ he said, stood up, wiped the few droplets of sweat from his forehead and with a fast pace, he exited the snug room. The central heating of the old house worked fine and soon, I removed my jacket, having first checked my shirt’s armpits for unwanted pools. There is nothing worse than trying to read a suspect’s eyes, while they stare at your sweaty patches. The large windows fogged up due to the contrast of temperature in the library and that of the icy cataclysm outside.

  Aristo and Cleopatra Cara entered the room. Cleopatra walked straight towards us, while Aristo closed the door. Both wore expressions of sadness and sorrow upon their faces. We already knew that they were still at the dinner party during Cassandra’s murder so Ioli shot straight to the point.

  ‘Uncle, auntie,’ she began her questions by addressing them, ‘why didn’t you come down today? Did you stay in your room all day?’

  Her uncle, Aristo, sat up. ‘Come down for what? Our son was locked in his room, crying over his dead bride. Were we supposed to come down and smile at everyone?’

  ‘Besides, I wasn’t feeling so well, dear. A bit under the weather. I think the storm has brought me a nice cold,’ Cleopatra added with her fragile voice fighting to be heard.

  ‘Locked in his room? You did not see him?’

  ‘Of course we did!’ Aristo raised his voice. ‘It’s just an expression. Locked in his room. We went over often to check up on him; we’re his parents!’

  ‘Brain function documentary kept him busy, huh?’ Ioli asked casually.

  ‘Yes, yes. Quite interesting, I must say.’

  After a few questions of mine about them noticing anything suspicious or seeing Cassandra leave the house, the pair got up and left the room. Ioli sat quietly during my questions. As the door remained open and Anneta appeared in the wooden doorway, Ioli stood up, mumbled a sorry and walked straight past her and out of the room.

  ‘Sit down,’ I said and pointed out the upholstered armchair to Anneta.

  ‘I would say good evening, but this is anything but that.’

  In the hallway, Ioli caught up with her uncle and aunt. She passed them and stood
in front of them.

  ‘Did we forget something, dear?’ Cleopatra asked.

  Ioli’s eyes scanned around to make sure no other ears were to be found.

  ‘Yes, you forgot to tell the truth,’ she said with a steady voice.

  ‘How dare you say we lied? What kind of family…’ Aristo began his rant.

  His wife placed her hand upon him and whispered a ‘shh.’

  ‘Ioli, why do you say such a thing?’

  ‘Aunt Cleo, I notice when perfect strangers lie to me, never mind you two, who I grew up watching. Aristo’s eyes wobble when he lies and you always look down and play with your thumb. What I don’t know is why you felt that you needed to lie.’

  Cleopatra exhaled and pushed her hair back with both hands. ‘Homer asked us to.’

  ‘Cleo!’ her husband cut her off. She raised her hand towards him and continued explaining to Ioli. ‘It’s only a half lie. We did check up on him and he was in his room, but he wanted to be alone, so we returned to our room and I fell asleep while Aristo watched TV. When you asked to see us all, Homer asked his father to say that they were together watching TV.’

  ‘But why?’

  ‘I know, right? I told them it was silly. You need no alibi for a suicide, but as you know neither of them ever listen to me,’ she said and shook her head, while calling to Saint Mary to provide them with sense.

  As Ioli attempted to make sense outside, Anneta approached and sat down. She looked refreshed, during dinner she looked like all blood had been drained out of her plum shaped body. Her hair had been blown dry and an eighties style had come alive. She had even slipped out of her ankle length black dress and changed into a knee high black skirt with a peach blouse, designed perfectly to cover the extra kilos gathered around her waist. She took her time to approach, her eyes studying the room. ‘Sorry, it has been a while since I have been in here. I love this room’s architecture. See, how the marble columns bend towards the top?’

  I nodded and watched her make herself comfortable before I began my set of questions.

  ‘I left the party rather early,’ she answered my first question. ‘I have never been one for staying up late. By eleven, I must have been fast asleep.’