One Way Ticket

by Evie Evans

  “I love karaoke!” Addi exclaimed.

  I began to feel my will to live ebbing away.

  What was it with this island and karaoke? What was the never ending appeal of tone deaf people singing in public? It’s certainly an icebreaker. And a glass breaker. And an eardrum breaker. Fortunately, someone prevented the elderly man from going through the whole ‘Sound of Music’ songbook by wrestling the microphone from his hands. I gave that a round of applause.

  “See?” Addi said, nodding his head to someone’s wavering version of ‘My Way’. “No masks, no mad monks, no evil people running around.”

  “I wouldn’t say that,” I answered as the singer hit a particularly bum note. “Let’s see about where we’re going to sleep tonight.”

  We tracked down our friendly monk standing by the table that held the remnants of the salad we’d eaten for dinner.

  “There’s no room in the retreat building, I’m afraid,” Brother Nikos answered Addi’s query. “But Father Manousakis has arranged for you to sleep in the tower. Don’t worry, it’s not really haunted.”

  Laugh? I could have cried.

  Brother Nikos led us to the base of the tower where a staircase nearby wound up and up, disappearing eventually into gloomy darkness at the top.

  “We have a cell for you here, Detective,” he told Addi, showing us a small, narrow room, bare apart from a bed and a wooden chair. When they said cell, they really meant it. “Yours, Miss Giles, is the up in the tower.”

  “What! Don’t you have anything down here?”

  “Oh no,” the monk said, going a little pink, “that wouldn’t be appropriate, this being a male sleeping area.”

  “I don’t mind, really.”

  “I’m afraid not. I’ll show you where your cell is.”

  We left Addi behind and went up the staircase, winding round and round into the darkness until we’d reached a particularly forbidding and badly lit corridor.

  “When you say haunted…?” I began.

  “Oh no,” he rushed to reassure me, “that’s just a silly rumour.”

  It didn’t look that silly from where I was standing, with ominous shadows all around and floorboards creaking madly underfoot.

  “You won’t be disturbed here. Men aren’t allowed in this part of the building. I shouldn’t even be standing here,” he joked.

  “Uh, thanks,” I stuttered, moving awkwardly to the doorway of my cell, its bare lightbulb casting frightening shapes on the walls.

  “Breakfast is at 7.30 down in the refectory. Good night.”

  With that he was gone and I was left alone with my increasingly disturbing imagination. The door squealed horribly as I closed it.

  First things first, I shoved the chair under the door handle. Just as I had it nicely wedged, I realised I’d need the loo before going to bed and had to unhook it again. The basic facilities provided down the hall where just far enough away to make me run there and back. Another ominous squeal from the door later and, chair secured, I laid down on the bed, fully dressed, ready for my imagination to do its worst.

  It was going to be hard enough to sleep in this nightmare generator they called a tower without the hunger pangs starting in my stomach. Who has a plain garden salad for dinner? No chicken, no ham, not even a crumb of cheese, to go with it. If only Addi hadn’t snatched back his biscuits at lunchtime, I wouldn’t be so hungry now. I could almost taste their buttery sweetness on my tongue. It would be ages before I’d be able to fall asleep.

  The next thing I knew, I was being woken up by a bell sounding loudly. Fire! was my first, groggy thought and, after wrestling the chair from the door handle, raced out expecting to see the tower engulfed in flames. It wasn’t, I couldn’t even smell any smoke.

  At the bottom of the stairs I found an equally puzzled Addi looking around.

  Two monks were casually strolling along the corridor. “It’s just the call to prayer,” one of them explained, giving me a funny look, “the Divine Liturgy.”

  “At one o’clock in the morning?”

  “It only lasts two hours. Please, return to your sleep.”

  Two hours of prayer in the middle of the night? No wonder the karaoke had looked so good to them.

  A sleepy-eyed Addi bade me goodnight once more and stepped back into his cell. I couldn’t face the tower again. Standing alone in the hallway I decided to do something I should have done earlier.

  Sneaking across the courtyard wasn’t easy in the dark with no torch, but somehow I managed it without tripping over. Please don’t let this door be locked, I almost prayed, leaning against the entrance to the retreat. They had decent rooms and other women in here, brightly coloured walls and good lighting. This is where I belonged, even if I’d have to sleep under the reception desk. Giving it a hefty push, I felt a thrill as the door opened.

  I was in!

  An incredibly intrusive alarm sound went off a second later. Oh dear. Had I done that? My first instinct was to run but I had my position to consider, I was here with the police force.

  I considered it and then ran.

  I only got out the door before bumping head on into a monk coming the other way.

  “Who’s there?” the guy screamed at me, grabbing hold of my arm in a vice-like grip.

  “It’s just Miss Giles, from the Kythios Police Department.”

  Thankfully someone snapped the lights on at that point.

  “I’m sorry, I wanted to stay in this part instead of the old tower, it’s much nicer in here.”

  He still hadn’t let go of my arm and now loads more people were piling in, monks and guests, all looking scared. One of them was Louise Allen. I noticed another woman joined her and touched the back of Louise’s neck in a very intimate way when she thought no one was looking.

  “Miss Allen knows me,” I cried desperately, nodding in her direction.

  The monk swivelled round and for a horrible moment, by the way she shrank back, I thought Louise Allen was going to deny all knowledge of me.

  “Do you know this woman?” my captor asked her.

  Louise hesitated for a moment. “Yes, she’s with the police.”

  I automatically rubbed my arm when he let it go. Someone had managed to switch off the alarm which helped calm the general mayhem. People began muttering and I hoped they would start drifting away soon.

  “Thanks,” I called to Louise Allen and she came to stand awkwardly by me, the monk hovering nearby. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake everyone up.” Miss Allen’s friend came over as well. “Are you room mates?” I asked.

  “Kind of,” she answered. I caught a look that passed between them and saw her friend reach for Louise Allen’s hand and caress it. It was no longer much of a mystery what was going on.

  “Why didn’t you say something earlier when we spoke to you?” I asked Louise quietly. She motioned me to one side.

  “It’s still frowned on by a lot of people. I didn’t want it known that I’m… gay.” The word came out as little more than a whisper. “It would probably kill my mother.”

  “It’s not something we would broadcast if you didn’t want us to.”

  “I’m still working on it in my therapy. I’m not ready to come out yet.”

  “Is this the cause of your stress?”

  “Yes, I’m trying to work through who I am. I suppose you’ll tell everyone?”

  “No, of course not.” That included Aunt June this time.

  She turned away, not looking convinced, and was led off by her companion.

  “Could I just stay here?” I asked the monk in my most pleading voice.

  “I’m sorry, it’s clients only.”

  He took me back to the main building and made me climb the tower.

  “Isn’t this is normally where they hold people before they execute them?” I asked no one in particular as I wedged the chair under the door handle again. “I’m never going to be able to sleep up here,” I announced as I led down on the bed again and fell immediately asl
eep.

  It must have been the mountain air, I figured the next morning when I awoke to the breakfast bell. Addi looked as if he had slept well and insisted on eating before we left. (It’s a sign of how much I wanted to leave that I was willing to forego breakfast.)

  “Apparently there was some kerfuffle in the night, someone tried to break into the retreat. They may want me to take a look,” he told me in a smugly important-sounding voice. “And we need to speak to Louise Allen again.”

  “Ah. I don’t think we do.” I took a deep breath and explained my nocturnal mishap as he ate a lump of what he optimistically called porridge.

  “I can’t believe you did that!” he exclaimed, spraying my top with bits of oatmeal. “Oh, sorry.”

  I debated wiping them off but my clothes looked bad enough after being slept in, it didn’t seem worth it.

  “You weren’t shoved up nightmare tower. I was expecting to bump into Quasimodo any moment,” I defended myself.

  “Why were you in such a state about this place? There’s nothing going on here but healing and religious worship.”

  With the sunshine streaming in the refectory windows and the monks around us chatting with good humour, it was hard to see what I’d been thinking as well.

  “So Louise Allen being here really doesn’t have anything to do with Tina?” Addi asked.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “She isn’t a suspect?”

  “I suppose Tina might have found out her secret and was threatening to tell? Doesn’t seem like something she would do from what we know of her, and it can’t have been blackmail, there wasn’t any money changing hands, not according to Tina’s bank account.”

  “Not according to Louise Allen’s either, I checked her recent transactions last week.”

  “There we are, then.”

  “What? Back to square one?” He crossed his arms in an unhappy manner.

  “Can we just go home?”

  We had another wait whilst various monks kindly tried to ascertain whether the road was now open, making me feel a heel for thinking the worst of them the night before. I put a donation in a nearby collection box to ease my conscience before we finally drove off.

  21 Papercut

  Addi dropped me off at home so I could shower and change, and answer Aunt June’s one hundred questions.

  “I thought you’re just an admin assistant?” was one of them.

  “Thanks for the ‘just’ part of that, it made we feel valued.”

  She put a mug of tea down next to me. “You know what I meant, why have you been swanning round all over the place?”

  “One, I haven’t been ‘swanning’ anywhere, I don’t even know what that means. Two, I’m helping Addi with a case.”

  “You’ve made up, then?”

  “What can I say? He can’t cope without me.”

  “And is this Tina Lloyd’s murder you’re helping with?”

  “Yep.”

  “Are we likely to see anyone arrested anytime soon?”

  “I’ll be doing my best.”

  “You two remind me of the Keystone Cops.”

  “It’s not easy, everyone we speak to lies about everything, even the small stuff. They’re all covering something up.”

  “Well, you’re just right for the job.”

  “What do you mean? I haven’t lied about anything.”

  “You won’t tell me the truth though, about what happened back home.”

  “Oh…” We looked at each other for a moment. “I’ve got to go have a shower,” I announced and escaped.

  When I finally strolled into the police station after lunch, I was disappointed to see Addi had gotten there before me. I’d hoped he would have taken the morning off as well.

  “Where’ve you been?” he asked, dumping some pages of print offs on my desk. “I got here ages ago.”

  “Good for you, I needed a nap. We didn’t all get a good seven hours sleep last night.”

  “Ssh. Be careful what you say around here. People might get funny ideas if they knew we spent the night together.”

  This seemed to be the wrong way round, I was pretty sure I should be the one concerned for my honour. “What did your mother say?”

  “She thinks I was there on my own. I thought it best that way.”

  “I think it best that way too. What’s this?”

  “Print outs of Tina’s phone records for the last few months before she died. I thought we could look for phone calls to Louise Allen? Just in case there was something going on with the two of them.”

  I didn’t know what had come over Addi all of a sudden, being all detective-like. “Let me get my coat off, at least.”

  “That’s Louise Allen’s number. You start on them, I’ve got to go ring someone else,” he said, walking out of the room. Great, I get stuck with the donkey work again. By the time he got back, I’d had a good look at all the records.

  “Anything?”

  “One phone call, 15th August.”

  “That’s not good.”

  “Face it, it’s not her. I feel sorry for her anyway, not being able to come out. Must be terrible.”

  “Come out of where?”

  “Never mind.”

  “Do you have any more ideas about Tina’s murderer?” he asked.

  “We do seem to be out of suspects.”

  “We haven’t even found a real motive for anyone.”

  “Or any evidence.”

  “Oh yes, evidence,” Addi echoed, spitting the word out as if it were profanity. It struck me that maybe Addi wasn’t cut out for this police investigating lark.

  “Yeah, I’m pretty certain we need some of that before you can convict anybody.”

  “I know.” Addi sighed in a way that made it clear he hadn’t picked up the sarcasm in my tone.

  “What do we do now?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You missed your update for the mayor’s office last night.”

  “No I rang and gave the same update as the night before, they didn’t notice.”

  We stared at the wall for a bit.

  “You know, in this light, that stain on the wall looks a bit like a machine gun,” I commented.

  “A machine gun? I think it looks like an elephant.”

  A psychiatrist would probably say that summed up the difference between Addi and me.

  I slapped the desk hard to wake both of us up. “Right. Basically, we’ve been through the file, reviewed the evidence, spoken to all known associates of Tina and we haven’t come up with anything. So…”

  “So?”

  “So…I have no idea. I think we need to consider looking to see if there’s a book on investigating murders because I really don’t know what to do next. Is there someone you could ask?”

  “I could check the manual.”

  “What manual?”

  “The Homicide Procedure Manual.”

  I sat up slightly. “There’s a manual for this?”

  “Of course, there’s a police manual for pretty much everything.”

  “You’re kidding me? You mean there’s a manual we should have been following all along?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then why haven’t we been using it?”

  “I wanted to see if I could do it by myself.”

  I sighed. “Well I think you’ve answered that one. We’ve been running around like headless chickens.”

  “Talking of chicken, my mother says do you want to come to dinner tonight?”

  Alarm bells went off in my head. “Your mother?”

  “Yes.”

  “Wants me to come to dinner?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “I think she wants to meet you.”

  I was pretty certain I didn’t want to meet her. “And you say she doesn’t know we were out together last night?”

  “No.”

  “Good.” How could I get out of this? “It’s not much notice. Aunt June’s probably coo
king something as we speak.”

  “You don’t want to come?”

  Does the Pope wear a dress? “It’s not that, it’s just I don’t want to upset my aunt by ruining two meals in a row. And I’d like to get an early night after last night.”

  “Okay, what are you doing tomorrow night?”

  “Your mother’s that keen, is she?”

  “Yes.”

  “Uh…” Could I think of another excuse in time? Suddenly invent a hobby or a friend? “Well… um… no, I don’t think I’m doing anything tomorrow.” Damn.

  “Great. You’ll come over then. Do you want me to get this manual? It won’t tell you who the killer is, you know.”

  “The manual we should have been following all along with the correct procedures in it? Yes I want you to get it!”

  Addi left.

  When he returned, he thumped a large folder down on my desk, making me choke on my last crumb of coconut cake I’d had the foresight to stop off and buy at the bakery on my way in.

  “That’s the murder manual,” he announced.

  I flicked through the 250-odd pages of close packed, small print instructions in the folder with little enthusiasm.

  “Well, we were looking for something to do this afternoon, weren’t we?”

  The more I read, the more depressed I started to feel. We hadn’t followed a single procedure. We’d failed to identify all the appropriate lines of enquiry, no geographical parameters had been set for the house-to-house enquiries, nor any logical parameters for tracing known associates of the victim. And don’t get me started on the record keeping. It looked like any one of these issues could result in a collapse of the police case if we ever got to trial. Fortunate that the chances of a trial happening right now were remote.

  “Right,” I began, once I’d read enough, the ex-administrator in me kicking in, “time to get a bit more organised. First off, we need a map of the area where Tina lived.”

  “Here,” Addi said and pulled one out of the back of the case notes.

  “Take a photocopy, I want to write on it.”

  That done, I marked in Tina’s apartment, then the locations of all the other people in the neighbourhood who’d been questioned.

  “You keep filling this in,” I told Addi, “I’ll read the next chapter.”