One Way Ticket

by Evie Evans

  ‘Merry Xmas everyone!’ it started. There were a large number of email addresses in the recipients’ list, not just mine.

  Oh brilliant, just what everyone wants at Christmas, the round robin email.

  ‘What a great year it’s been’, the message read. ‘Work has been hectic, challenging but rewarding. Janice and I hope you will have as happy a Christmas as us. ’

  How lovely. Of course, the message required some interpretation. Lucky ‘Rupert’ was one language I had learned to speak so well.

  What a great year it’s been = lie. I’d seen to that.

  Work has been hectic = disciplined for unprofessional behaviour (also partly due to me).

  challenging = threatened with the sack.

  but rewarding = he’d gotten away with it.

  Janice = the latest poor cow he’s suckered.

  as happy a Christmas as us = rowing all the time.

  Textbook Rupert.

  It shouldn’t have surprised me he would include me on his email list, sensitivity wasn’t one of his strong points. I actually found I wanted to laugh at the whole thing. I wasn’t even tempted to reply back and tell him what I thought of him.

  I was cured.

  Instead, I did a reply all and let everyone know what kind of person Rupert was. (Come on, he was asking for it, including everyone’s email addresses in the mail instead of blind copying them in like a sensible person) Signing off with ‘And a Happy New Year to Everyone’, I sent it off with a song in my heart. Job done.

  Humming merrily, I drove back to Aunt June’s. No, I corrected myself, home. It was home now.

  The next morning, Addi and I left early (for us) for the supermarket. Addi asked for the manager and was offered a range of assistants instead. They spoke Greek so fast it was difficult for me to keep up but I got the idea the manager was enjoying a Christmas holiday somewhere. Addi asked how far back their CCTV recordings ran and that sent them into a tailspin as well. We settled in at the supermarket café for a long wait. Two cups of tea and a piece of baklava later, we were surprised to be presented with a dvd. The last three months of security footage, the assistant manager assured us.

  “Lucky we didn’t leave it any longer or it would have been overwritten,” Addi said as we drove back to the office. “The afternoon of Tina’s murder should be just on it, but not by much.”

  “Let’s hope it’s good quality film.”

  “We’ll watch it on your computer,” Addi told me, “your office is still empty.”

  The quality of the images were surprisingly good, we could make out customers entering the supermarket quite clearly.

  “Paul Marshall said he was there about 3 o’clock,” Addi said, fast forwarding the film.

  We sat and watched it for a while. And a while. And a while. Then we rewound it and checked again.

  “He’s not on it,” I agreed after we’d watched it twice. “I knew it. I knew he was suspicious.”

  “Right.” Addi stood up. “I’m going to bring him in for questioning. He’s lied in his alibi and he was involved with the victim at the time of her death, that’s grounds enough. It’ll give me a good update for the mayor tonight, as well.”

  “Okay.” I watched him leave with the knowledge that, once again, I wouldn’t be allowed to help with the questioning, I’d have to wait for an update to find out what was going on. To get this far with the case only to have it pulled from my hands was more than a little disappointing.

  The stack of case notes in my in-tray had grown again. I grabbed one from the bottom and opened the app on my computer. Life wasn’t very fair, I felt as I began typing. I’d been working for about thirty minutes when Addi rushed back in.

  “What’s happen−”

  “He’s not there,” Addi cut me off, breathing hard. “Neighbours say he went out last night in his car and hasn’t been back since. I think he’s gone on the run.”

  I got up from my desk. “Wow, so it was him. What do we do now?”

  “I’ve got to get a bulletin to the airport in case he tries to leave the country, I just hope he didn’t fly out last night.”

  As Addi rushed back to his office to put a block on Paul Marshall’s passport, I found myself picking up the phone and dialling Aunt June. (Look, I couldn’t help it, I was excited, I had to tell someone.)

  “Hello?” she answered after a few rings.

  “Aunt June, it’s me,” I whispered down the phone. “We’ve got him.”

  “Got who?”

  “The murderer, it was this man, Paul Marshall.”

  “Paul Marshall? I don’t think I know him.”

  “He was going out with Tina when she died, lives on the Minerva estate. Anyway, he’s done a runner, Addi’s having to alert the airport in case he tries to escape.”

  “Sounds very exciting. What time’ll you be home for your tea?”

  “Usual time, I think.”

  “I’ll do something nice to celebrate.”

  Addi came back in a few moments later. “Right, that’s the airport notified. Now I’m going to put out an alert to the local police stations. Oh,” he stopped and put his hand to his forehead. “I’ve always wanted to do one of these.” He rushed off again before I could say anything.

  I had to carry on typing up case notes for the rest of the day, but it wasn’t quite so bad now I knew I had helped identify a murderer. After lunch, I continued whittling down my work pile, comforted with the knowledge that Kythios would now be a safer place and people like my aunt could sleep sounder at night. If only I could get some recognition for it, my heart still harboured dreams of that front page photo of me accepting the keys to the town.

  The phone rang. “Yes?” I answered.

  “Don’t start celebrating just yet,” my aunt replied.

  “What? Why not?”

  “Someone called Paul Marshall is currently at Ron Coleman’s house, sleeping off the king of hangovers.”

  “Who’s Ron Coleman?”

  “Frank’s friend’s neighbour.”

  “Who?”

  “I rang Kate, she rang a few people. Someone called back and said they knew where Paul Marshall was. He hasn’t escaped. He was just drunk.”

  “You rang… Oh dear.” I could just imagine how this was going to go across with Addi. “Are they sure?”

  “That’s what Kate said. Of course, you can never be absolutely certain when things are passed along the grapevine like this.”

  “No. Would you happen to have the address of this Ron Coleman?”

  My aunt read it out.

  “I’ll ring you back later,” I said and put the phone down. Why did this keep happening to me?

  Addi wasn’t in his office. He’d gone to speak to the mayor, someone told me. A bit premature, I thought. I rang his mobile but it went to voicemail. Part of me was relieved, he’d probably go mad when he found out what I’d done.

  I was holding the piece of paper I’d scribbled down the address on. The best bet seemed to be going to see if Mr Marshall was there myself before having to admit to anyone I’d spread the name of our suspect around town. I drove off.

  Ten minutes and only three wrong turns later, I pulled up at Ron Coleman’s house.

  “He’s only just woken up,” Mr Coleman told me, looking fairly worse for wear himself when he opened the door. “We had a big night last night.”

  “He is here, then? I need to see him,” I said firmly. He led me through to the living room. Paul Marshall was sitting amongst a tangle of blankets and cushions on the sofa. He was rubbing his head as if afraid it was going to fall off.

  “Mr Marshall,” I began.

  He turned his bloodshot eyes on me. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m going to escort you to the police station. They need to have a word with you there.”

  “Now? I’m hardly in a good state.”

  “You need to come with me. They’ve been looking for you, they think you’ve run away.”

  Andy Mar
shall got to his feet unsteadily. “Let me splash some water over my face.”

  Whilst I waited, I tried Addi’s mobile again. Still off. I didn’t ring the normal police number, I thought it would look better if I brought the fugitive in myself, I’d be more likely to be forgiven for my slip that way.

  “Right, what’s this about,” Paul Marshall said, coming back into the room looking a bit more awake.

  “The police need to speak to you. When you weren’t at home last night, they were worried you’d run away. You need to go to the police station before it gets any worse, you can see how it looks to them.”

  For a moment I thought he was going to refuse. Then he reached over to the dining table and threw a bunch of keys at me. “Alright, you’ll have to drive, I’m in no fit state yet.”

  “That’s okay, we can go in my car,” I said.

  “Like hell, I’m not going to be stranded at the station. Pay for a taxi back here, would they?”

  “I’m sure someone would give you a lift.” If you were coming back, I thought.

  “I’m not. We’ll take my car.”

  I followed him out of the house to a small hatchback parked up the road. It took me a few moments to get used to the controls and the seat position before setting off for the station.

  “So they still think I was involved in Tina’s death?” he asked as I drove down the wrong street again and had to find somewhere to turn around.

  “Um, I think we’d better wait till we get to the station, it’ll all be sorted out there. Sorry to drag you away from your friend’s, looks like you had quite a night.”

  “Yes,” he said, rubbing his head again, “I felt terrible after you and that other policeman left, decided to drown my sorrows at the pub, Ron came with me.”

  Coasting along the main road I could hear a siren going off in the background. “Oh, I hope that’s not an accident,” I said, looking in the rearview mirror to see if I needed to pull over and let them pass. “This mirror’s not as big as mine, difficult to see…”

  Blue flashing lights came into view behind us and I immediately pulled over to the side. “We’ll be on our way again in a moment,” I tried to reassure Mr Marshall. Instead of zipping past, the police car pulled in behind us.

  “I wasn’t speeding, was I?” I asked Paul Marshall, “your dials are different, it’s hard to tell.” We both watched the policemen get out of their vehicle and walk towards us in our side mirrors.

  “Step out of the car, please,” the policeman on my side said.

  “I’m not used to the dials,” I said, getting out, realising I didn’t recognise him.

  “You’re under arrest,” he told me, grabbing my arms and turning me around to face the car. I saw the other policeman had done the same with Paul.

  “What the−”

  “You’re wanted for questioning in a homicide, there’s an all station alert out for you and this car.”

  “It’s not me, I work for the police force, I was bringing that man in.”

  “Where’s your i.d.?”

  I looked down but it wasn’t hanging round my neck like usual. He wouldn’t let me look in my bag but had a quick root through himself. “I must have left it in the office,” I explained when his search proved fruitless.

  The policeman looked at me. “They all say that.”

  25 Busted

  At least the booking sergeant recognised me when we were hauled in. It didn’t stop him booking me, but he knew who I was.

  “Rules are rules,” he explained, leading me to the holding cell.

  “Thanks a lot,” I said as he turned the key, locking me in. It was a bijou place, all stained, bare walls and hard metal bench. The police must have used the same designer as the monks at the monastery.

  Someone must have informed Addi because he was there fifteen minutes later.

  “What have you done now?” he said, peering through the hatch in my cell door.

  “I was trying to help. My sources came through with an address on Paul Marshall.”

  “Your sources? Your aunt, you mean.”

  “Can we argue about this when we’re both standing on the same side of the door?”

  “I can’t believe you told her,” he said, making no effort to open the door.

  “Okay, I made a mistake.”

  Addi looked at me.

  “Again,” I admitted. “But if I hadn’t we wouldn’t have found Paul Marshall so quickly.”

  He blew out a puff of breath. “Someone’s got to sign the sheet to get you released.”

  “You can write, can’t you?”

  “Not very well, you tell me.”

  I looked at him leaning there. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

  “Of course not.”

  “It would be more convincing if you’d said that without smiling. How long are you leaving me in here?”

  “Just a moment.” Addi whipped his phone out of his pocket and took my photo before I could turn away.

  “Thank you very much.” I would have said more but he produced a key then and unlocked the door. It was a relief to get away from the cell’s aroma, a cunning mix of urine and bleach with just a hint of vomit.

  “It is really unpleasant in there.”

  “I wouldn’t know.”

  After going above and beyond the call of duty trying to bring in Paul Marshall single-handedly, I felt I was due a little appreciation. So far, it had not been forthcoming. “Have a good time with the mayor?” I asked as we ascended the stairs to our department.

  Addi’s foot faltered on a step. “I’ll explain to him our suspect hadn’t tried to escape after all.”

  “Will you?”

  “Yes. I’ve already recalled the alert to the local police stations. The chief won’t mind, it’s better to be too careful in these things.”

  I could tell by the way he said it he was trying to convince himself. “Have you spoken to Paul Marshall yet?”

  “No, I thought I’d better get you out first. Let him steam for a while.”

  “I think the word you’re looking for is stew.” I glanced at my watch. “It’s not time to go home yet, I’ll hang on. Come and let me know what happens.”

  I made my way to the canteen for a much longed for cup of tea, knowing what the outcome of the discussion would be already. Paul had told me in the car we’d been looking at the footage of the wrong supermarket.

  Lo and behold, I hadn’t even finished my cup of tea when I saw Addi and Georgios, one of the other detectives, rush out the building. Forty minutes later they hurried back in. Instead of waiting to find out the result, I decided to go to the canteen again and boil the kettle for another cup of tea. I was just swigging the last mouthful when Addi stormed up to my desk.

  “It’s a disaster,” he announced.

  “It was the wrong supermarket.”

  “Did he tell you?” Addi asked.

  “Well, we had plenty of time in the back of the police car. I take it you’ve looked at the CCTV footage of this other one?”

  “Yes. He was there. He drove into the car park at 2.27 and left at 3.46.” He sat heavily on the chair by my desk.

  “That’s a long time. What was he doing?”

  “It’s not just a supermarket, it’s a home store as well. He was measuring up some new fencing.”

  “That still gives some time at either end, doesn’t it? His alibi doesn’t cover the whole time frame.”

  Addi looked at me pityingly. “Do you know the Gerosoni superstore?”

  “No, can’t say I’ve been there.”

  “That’s because it’s not in Kythios. It’s way out on the road to …, you wouldn’t know it anyway.”

  “And?” I prompted.

  “The opposite direction from where Tina Lloyd lived. She was seen leaving her local shop just before ten past two that afternoon. Even if he killed her straight after that, he’d have less than 17 minutes to get to the superstore afterwards. He’d need a flying machine to make it i
n that time. And it doesn’t work the other way either, there’s no way he could have left the superstore at 3.46, driven to Tina’s, killed her, then driven back across town and arrive at his own house by 4.10. One of his neighbours confirmed she saw him pull in then.”

  “He was definitely in the superstore the whole time?”

  “Yes, he was picked up by the cameras as he walked round.”

  “And the times on the cameras are correct? Sometimes they can be a bit out.”

  “No, they’re right, we checked.”

  We sat in silence for a moment. “Another dead end, then?”

  Addi let out a big breath. “Yes.”

  “I got arrested for nothing.”

  He fished in his pocket. “Not entirely,” he said, showing me my photo on his phone. I’d only been in the cell fifteen minutes but I’d already gotten the wild-eyed, gaunt, panicked look about me. Or maybe that’s how I always look.

  “I think I’ll make this my, what’s it called? Wallpaper?” Addi asked.

  “Don’t let your mother see it.”

  He put his phone back in his pocket and went back to looking dejected. “What do we do now?” he asked.

  “We’ll think of something.”

  We were still sitting there trying to think of something an hour later when Sergeant H. appeared in the doorway. “The vasilopita cake’s here,” he announced and left.

  “Cake?” I queried hopefully.

  “It’s a traditional thing we eat at New Year,” Addi said, not moving from his slumped position across the desk. “A couple of local law firms usually send one, for the work we’ve given them over the year.”

  “That’s nice. I’m all for tradition,” I told him getting up. “Let’s go get some before it’s all gone.”

  Addi couldn’t be bothered to go so I agreed to pick up a piece for him. When I got back, I handed over the slightly smaller one I’d selected and took a big bite out of mine.

  “Aaargh,” I screamed as my tooth hit something hard.

  “There are usually coins in it,” Addi said, breaking his slice up into pieces first.