by Evie Evans
It only added to the evening’s depression that getting up close with an almost attractive man, who my aunt kept mentioning was single, had not interested me at all. My only thought had been to get rid of him as soon as possible.
“What’s the matter with you?” Aunt June asked when she got home, about an hour after I’d limped in the door.
“How long have you got? I fell off the path.” I decided not to tell her about being helped by Michalis for fear she would be ringing wedding planners first thing in the morning. “That hill is lethal, it’s not properly lit.”
“Alright, no need to bite my head off. There are some bandages in the cupboard if you want one.”
I stomped to the living room to put my leg up on the coffee table.
“What is wrong?” Aunt June asked in an exasperated way, following me in as I collapsed onto the sofa.
“Nobody cares! That’s what. Nobody cares.”
“You’re talking in riddles,” my aunt said, sitting in the chair opposite.
“I just checked my emails. Three months I’ve been away. Three months. Do you know what I got?”
“An award?”
Boy, she could be sarcastic when she wanted to be.
“Ha, ha. No. Nine messages. Nine. And do you know what they were?”
“I can’t wait to find out.”
“One was from my exercise class telling me it wasn’t on last month. One was a group invite from someone I was at school with years ago to some bloody art show in Scotland, followed by another afterwards telling me what a success it was. And three were stupid chain emails someone kindly passed on telling me how lucky I would be if I sent them to five other people.”
“Oh dear. And the others?”
“All from the library. Apparently a book I ordered is ready for collection and my other books are overdue.”
My aunt appeared to be struggling not to smile.
“Where was the concern?” I asked. “The messages asking where I was? Has anyone even noticed I’m not in Swindon anymore?”
“Didn’t you tell them you were going away?”
“I sent a quick email before I left. I thought some of my friends might at least have been curious about where I’d gone.”
“You didn’t tell them you were coming here?”
“No,” I started before stopping. I was moments away from dropping myself in it. My aunt didn’t know all of what had happened back home. “I was having trouble with someone,” I told her. “At work. I thought it best not to tell people I was coming here in case he found out.”
“What like a stalker?”
“I was not stalking him!”
“Jennifer, what has been going on?”
“It’s a long story. Nothing for you to worry about.” I got up feeling I’d shared enough for one day. “Maybe some other time,” I told her and hobbled off to bed.
My ankle was still a bit sore the next day but not as much as my ego. Not a single concerned message from any of my so-called friends. It was lucky I’d decided to stay in Cyprus, they obviously weren’t worth going back home for.
Aunt June had left a note in the kitchen.
‘Having a lie-in dear, feeling a bit tired,’ I tried not to imagine from what, ‘but I think you should sort out your overdue library books.’
Was that really the part of last night’s conversation she was most concerned about?
‘p.s. can you get me onto that twittering thing?’
I decline to comment.
18 So This Is Christmas (War Is Over)
I’d offered to cover the festive week in the office. Not only would this spare me witnessing Aunt June and Kostas’ public displays of affection on a full stomach, but I hoped I might hear how the Tina Lloyd case was developing. Despite discreetly asking around, I hadn’t found anyone in the department willing to tell me what was happening so far. Being rejected by people back home was only making my mind focus on the murder even more.
On Christmas Eve, I armed myself with a bottle of sherry before heading to work. I was determined to force a little cheer on my colleagues and see if I could get any info out of them. As it turned out, I didn’t have to force too hard. Considering no one had wanted to go out for a drink, they certainly drank enough of it when offered. There weren’t many of us in work so it quickly became a party atmosphere, especially when a couple bottles of wine were produced. Hopefully the local criminals were doing likewise outside.
I’d been trying to spark a conversation about the investigation when Addi walked in. Someone called him over to share the fun and I had to offer him a sherry. It was the first time we’d spoken in a couple of weeks and it felt pretty awkward to me. No one else seemed to notice.
“Kala Cristouyenna,” Addi wished me as he sampled the sherry (that’s Merry Christmas to you and me).
A big cheer saved me from having to think of some clever reply. Someone had produced a bottle of Cyprus brandy. Apparently this was a sign the party had really started.
I’d like to point out now that sherry and Cypriot brandy don’t mix that well together, or so Sergeant H found out to his detriment. It made a nice change to be the observer instead of the one throwing up somewhere inappropriate (in this instance, Vara’s desk drawer, that would be a nice surprise for her when she came back to work). I wouldn’t have thought he had it in him, if I hadn’t had the misfortune of witnessing it all coming out first hand. It’s always the quiet ones.
Once we’d gotten him cleaned up and shipped off home, people started drifting away themselves (you couldn’t blame them, vomit isn’t known for its party atmosphere enhancing properties). Soon there was only a handful of us left, one of them Addi. I would have moved elsewhere too, but the unfortunate part of starting a party in your own office is you don’t have the option of leaving.
A movie on someone’s phone (Sergeant H throwing up I suspected) caused the others to crowd round, leaving Addi and me standing awkwardly alone.
“Kala Cristouyenna,” Addi told me again.
“You said that already.”
He perched alongside me on the edge of the desk.
“I haven’t been in here for a while.”
“No.”
“Things are going well, are they?”
“You know, the usual.”
“At least you have the sergeant’s filing system to entertain you.”
Despite my best attempts, I couldn’t stop the corners of my mouth turning up. Addi looked relieved the air between us seemed to be thawing a little.
“Got a lot of family coming for Christmas tomorrow?” I asked.
“Not too many, only about 30.”
Only 30? I tried to imagine 30 people squeezing into Aunt June’s villa. A tin of sardines would be roomier.
“Well, I hope you enjoy it.” Now we were back on speaking terms, it seemed reasonable to go in for the killer question. “How’s the case going?”
“Oh, you know,” he began, before being interrupted by his phone. Pulling a face at whatever was on the display, he quickly answered it. When he closed it again, he looked a bit pale.
“The Mayor’s office. I’ve got to go,” he muttered and rushed off.
I should’ve known, he hadn’t changed at all. Still dumping people in favour of more influential contacts.
The big day arrived and passed in a haze of whisky fumes. I told Aunt June she should pace herself, but she insisted on carrying around the bottle of single malt I’d given her as if nursing a baby, taking a few nips every so often. It was no wonder she hadn’t wanted to cook the full roast dinner, toast would be a challenge in her state. Kostas and I managed to rustle up a passable meal but it wasn’t the traditional turkey fare I knew and loved.
Despite our best efforts, Aunt June and I just couldn’t get a family argument going, and with none of the usual television specials to watch, it really didn’t feel much like Christmas to me. It was almost a relief to telephone my mother to wish her season’s greetings, and receive a lecture
in being a bad daughter in return. That was more like it. Worse still, I had interrupted the Queen’s speech. Unpardonable. I couldn’t have timed it better if I’d tried. After a ten minute diatribe on my thoughtlessness, it began to feel a lot more like the Christmases I remembered. Aunt June spoilt it slightly in the evening by putting on a record of Mrs Mills piano classics to sing along to, instead of sticking to hours of boring, mindless telly. I decided to have an early night, making sure to insert the large ear plugs I’d had the foresight to furnish myself with.
It didn’t feel right to have to get up for work the next day but I’d foolishly volunteered so I had to go in. The department, when I arrived, was almost deserted. I could tell it was going to be one of those dull days that stretched on forever whilst I tried not to think of everyone enjoying themselves at home. Still, it was an ideal opportunity to find where Addi had hidden Tina Lloyd’s file. I’d learned nothing at the impromptu drinks party on Christmas Eve, no one had been interested in talking about work, so perhaps this could make up for it. It was starting to become a little frightening just how many of my waking thoughts were consumed by this case.
I was just lingering by Addi’s desk when the man himself came strolling in. I straightened up and tried to look innocent. Two minutes earlier and he would have caught me going through his in-tray.
“Morning, didn’t realise you were working today,” I blurted out, edging away from his desk.
“Good morning,” Addi replied, all smiles as if our row had never been. “Nice day yesterday?”
“Not especially.”
“Mine was pretty quiet.” How could thirty visitors be ‘pretty quiet’?
“Better get back to work,” I muttered and disappeared before he could ask me what I was doing there.
I went back to my empty office and tried not to think about Boxing Day back home – all those lovely leftovers that would be sat in the fridge waiting to be eaten, usually along with a joint of ham, a selection of cheeses only seen once a year, and lots of chocolates and cake. A bit of a contrast to the sad looking ham sandwich and black spotted banana that were sitting in my lunchbox. I consoled myself by looking up the weather back home and was delighted to see it was thirty degrees colder there, grey and raining.
A few minutes later, I was surprised to see Addi come into my office and plop himself down on my desk just like he used to.
“Aren’t you interested in how the case’s going?” he asked.
“The Tina Lloyd case?” I queried, trying to play it cool whilst my heart started racing twenty to the dozen. Was he about to tell me he’d solved it?
“Yes.”
I looked up from my computer screen. “Am I allowed to know?”
Addi scuttled around the desk, making me swivel round in my chair a little. “Actually,” he looked round quickly, even though it was just the two of us there, “it’s not going very well.”
“Really?” Sad to say I felt a little pleased that he hadn’t been able to solve it without me.
“I was wondering if you could help me.”
“Me! You didn’t even want me to know what was going on a few days ago.” It’s amazing how easy it is to get a bit shouty sometimes.
“I’m sorry, the chief told me I wasn’t allowed to talk about it to anyone.”
“The chief?” We both knew our argument had been nothing to do with the chief.
“He’s a stickler for that kind of thing.”
“So, what’s happened? Why are you willing to talk to me about it now?”
“The chief’s off this week, I’ve got to do the investigation on my own.” Addi’s head dropped down. “The mayor got involved. I have to give updates to his office, every night.”
“Oh.”
“He’s worried it may affect tourism. I haven’t got any updates to give him, it’s starting to get really embarrassing.”
“Right.” I hadn’t entirely forgiven him for what he’d said during our argument and he obviously wasn’t about to apologise.
“If we get this cleared up, your aunt could rest easy,” he said as if trying to guess what I was thinking. “She wouldn’t have to worry about a murderer being on the loose.”
Yeah, that’s why I was interested. I already knew my answer, I just didn’t want to appear too keen and bite his hand off.
“Okay,” I said as if doing him a massive favour. “Why don’t you go get the file?”
19 Back To Black
“You still haven’t found Louise Allen or the Paul guy from the birthday card?”
Addi fidgeted with his pen. “Look, it took four days just for the authorisation form to come through to get the number Louise Allen used to ring her mother. Then I had to fill in another form to trace where that phone actually is. These things take time, you know, especially over Christmas. The lab boys always have a party Christmas Eve. They’ve promised me they should have a location for the phone she used by today.”
“Glad they’ve got their priorities right. A party? I wasn’t invited to any party.”
“Admin staff never get asked. Well, apart from Big Annita in the post room.”
“I knew there had to be some Christmas do going on somewhere. What other parties didn’t I get invited to?”
“That was it, you haven’t missed anything.”
“Huh. Louise Allen’s probably moved on by now anyway. She could have gone round the world in the time this is taking. In the films, they know within hours, a day at least.”
“This isn’t Hollywood. These boys are in a union. They’ll get there, eventually.”
“It’s just whether half the population is going to be murdered in the meantime.”
“No one else is going to be murdered. There haven’t been any more bodies.”
I flicked through the rest of the file. “You haven’t made much progress.”
“I have. Look.” He took the file from my hands and found a page near the back. “I made a list of everyone in the area with a first name of Paul or Pavlos. 47 men. I rang every single one. Took me two days.”
“What did you find?”
“None of them knew Tina, or so they claimed. I couldn’t find a link between any of them and her.”
“So we still haven’t found Paul?”
Addi let out a big sigh. “No. It could be he was just a visitor, or maybe he hasn’t applied for the residency permit, not everyone applies when they should.”
Residency permit? “Oh. When is that?” I asked.
“When they’ve been here three months. Everyone should have registered then, like you did.”
“Right.” Like I did.
“It’s a difficult case. No obvious suspects, no clear motives. It’s hard to know where to turn next. If you don’t want to help…”
“I didn’t say that. Let me read the rest of the file first.”
“I’ll go check if the lab’s come back with anything yet.”
“Have a fag, you mean?” I mumbled to his retreating back.
I’d only just found the form to apply for a residency permit online when he came racing back. “I’ve found her,” he shouted. “Louise Allen.”
I toggled my screen away from the form.
“The lab traced the phone to a shop in the mountains. I’ve rung the owner, he remembers Louise Allen, he had to give her change for the phone. And she was in there just two days ago.”
“So, she’s somewhere in the mountains? That still sounds like an awfully big place.”
“Hah. It’s better than that, I’ve found out where she’s actually staying.” He paused.
“Go on then, tell me.”
“The owner remembered she was with a worker from a local retreat. I’ve just been on the phone to them and they’ve confirmed she’s staying there. I’ve got her.”
“A retreat?”
“Some kind of health facility. We’ll drive up, okay? We’re running out of time, the chief’ll be back in a few days.” Addi jangled his car keys.
“What
now? It’s almost lunch time.”
He rolled his eyes. “Okay, have your lunch first.”
“What have you brought?” I enquired slyly, knowing his mother always packed him off with a substantial feast.
“I don’t know, shall I go get it?” he asked resignedly.
When he returned, I relieved him of a substantial quota of his feta pies and biscuits (which I felt was a public service as he wasn’t getting any smaller in the waist department). Addi had finished eating way before me.
“Aren’t you done yet?” He packed up the rest of the biscuits before I could grab anymore. “We don’t want to leave too late; it’ll take a while to get there.”
It was only when we left that I realised the skies had turned leaden and threatened rain. “Should we leave this till tomorrow? I think we’re going to get wet.” I peered through the windscreen at the dark clouds sweeping ominously over the mountains.
“No, it will get better as we go up,” Addi said.
As the first few spots hit the windscreen, Addi dismissed them and debated how we should handle Miss Allen. “We don’t know why she’s there. They wouldn’t tell me any information over the phone.”
“So it could be anything - nervous breakdown, drug addiction, generally hiding after committing a murder?” I asked.
“That’s about it.”
“Then how do we deal with this?”
He squirmed about in his seat a little. “I haven’t done that training yet.”
And they’d given him a murder investigation?
I stared out of the window and tried to admire the scenery whizzing by but, in the rain, it wasn’t much to look at.
“What’s the name of this place we’re going to?” I asked after a while.
“The Apostles Priory.”
“I’d better watch my manners, it sounds religious.”