‘So, how come a cop? Out of all jobs, why did you choose to become a police officer?’
The main reason she loved asking the question was because it was never the money, the hours or various benefits like you heard about other occupations. It was always because there was a cop in the family that inspired his children or a good story. Ioli loved listening to both. In Valentina’s case it was neither; she was an exception to Ioli’s rule.
Valentina was caught slightly off-guard as her inner-voice sang along to the radio. She lowered the volume and turned to meet Ioli’s eyes, just for a split second, before returning to the road ahead.
‘To be honest, I wanted a job that would get me off this island.’
Ioli’s eyebrows journeyed upwards. Now, she knew why the girl never enjoyed the view. Disappointed in Valentina’s reply, she pulled out her cell and was going to text Mark. She never did as Valentina continued ‘It’s a wonderful place and I love my home, but it is just too small, you know? I thought if I became a teacher or a cop it would be my chance to see Greece. Get stationed somewhere new every few years might sound horrible to some, but for a poor girl like me it sounded like a golden opportunity. My luck! I get stationed here. I’m still pretty sure my mama called the chief and somehow sorted things out. Anyway, next year, hopefully I will get transferred.’
‘Here we are,’ she declared after a small pause, leaving Ioli no time to react to her answer.
The dust around the car quickly settled and Ioli found herself staring at a row of tall tangled olive trees. A sign hung on one of them. SAKIS SHOE REPAIRS AND SALES. Through the gaps in the trees’ branches, Ioli saw what was nothing more than a fixed-up shed standing in the middle of the lawn belonging to an old cottage. A woman in her mid-fifties stood by the open house door, her right hand above her eyes in an effort to block out the bright sunlight.
‘Hello there, Mrs. Julia, is Sakis in the shop?’ Valentina called over to her as she stepped outside.
‘Is that you Valentina? Oh my, you have grown. How’s your mother? Say hi. Well, well that police uniform suits you well. Bravo, my dear,’ the chatty lady replied. ‘Sakis? He left twenty minutes ago to head up to town. Someone called him and he left in a hurry.’
‘Who called him?’
The woman raised her shoulders. ‘No idea. Was he expecting you? Silly man, going off when he knew you were coming.’
‘Did he tell you we were coming?’ Ioli asked, coming forward.
Julia studied her for a second. ‘Yes, but he did not say why. He looked upset, yet I could not get a word out of him. He never tells me anything ever since my heart attack two years back.’
She walked closer towards them with every word.
Ioli gazed up to the scorching sun. She could not catch a break.
Valentina noticed the desperation growing on the pregnant lady’s sweating face. She placed her hand on Ioli’s shoulder. ‘Has he got a cell phone with him?’ she asked his wife, who without answering took out her own phone and called her husband.
‘No answer,’ she declared seconds later.
Chapter 6
On Board
Tons of freshly painted steel cruised effortlessly upon the calm, deep waters. The recent renovations that took place upon board were obvious. There were no signs of blisters in the paint, weather worn decks and rusty chains. Signs of age met upon most ships condemned to sail under the Greek sun. Plain physics; nothing survives the heat untouched.
Tracy and I were walking back to our cabin, having enjoyed a dip in the east swimming pool of the ship. Like adolescents on a first date we journeyed together hand-in-hand, enjoying the fifty shades of blue that surrounded us. Tracy looked stunning in her turquoise bikini, a fit and toned forty-nine-year old. I, on the other hand, was your typical, middle age Greek guy with an overflowing beer-belly and thick hairs running across my legs and ganging up all over my chest and even my back. We both smelled of coconut sunscreen. I had placed a significant amount on my bald head. Used to having a healthy amount of black hair, I had never thought how much the sun could burn my scalp.
Soon, we turned into the interior of the ship, escaping the ferocious sunrays and walking down the long corridor that lead to the cheap, thin wooden door of our cabin.
As I closed the door behind me, I felt Tracy’s warm hands pull down my green and orange trunks. She hugged me from behind as I stood there naked. Her hands ran down my chest, feeling my heartbeat accelerated and journeyed down.
‘Sea air suits you well,’ I said, exhaling deeply.
‘You being relaxed suits me well,’ she replied, letting go and cat walking to the bed. She laid down and invited me with her eyes, her body and her soul. Soon, I was in her, my arms wrapped tightly around her coconut-scented body; my lips travelling up her neck all the way to her ear lobe.
Suddenly, as I was biting her lower lip, a sharp smashing sound was heard from the adjacent cabin -like a large vase collapsing into a thousand pieces. A couple of thuds followed, then a drowned scream. We both turned our heads towards the direction of the magnolia painted wall with the atrocious painting of a blunt bowl of fruit.
Silence.
Tracy read my expression.
‘Silly kids,’ she said, and raised her head out of her soft pillow. Her hot lips kissed mine. Mine remained still.
‘Should I go check?’
‘And get arrested for indecent exposure?’ she joked.
‘You think I am overreacting?’
‘Teens trashing a room while on holiday is not an unheard of crime, Mr. Police Captain. I’m sure their teacher can handle this.’
I smiled and having noticed that I had started to go soft down below, I fell back down upon Tracy, my hands and lips moving around rapidly.
Later, happily tired, we drifted off to dreamland, safe in each other’s embrace.
Frantic screaming woke us both. I turned my sore eyes towards the clock on the wall. We had been asleep for over an hour.
‘That’s not just kids being kids,’ I said, jumped out of bed and rushed to dress. Tracy sat up, lost for words as more yells for help joined the girl’s screeching.
As I exited the hallway, I noticed a group of six teens, all crying, all afraid to enter the room. Their teacher stood in front of them under the door’s arch, her hand covering her trembling mouth.
‘Oh, God,’ she whispered.
A black boy, not older than nineteen, sat on the carpet-fitted floor behind them. Tears run freely down his youthful face as he leaned back against the wall. He kept on yelling ‘Where’s Holly? Where’s Holly?’
I approached the teacher who looked up at me suspiciously.
‘I am a police officer, ma’am. What seems to be the matter?’ I asked calmly.
She took a step back and with her hand, she showed me the open door. She was in no condition to speak.
I have witnessed many crime scenes in my life, but never one with such a large pool of blood. The blood had yet to dry. The crime was fresh. Guilt came over me. Probably had happened during mine and Tracy’s love-making session. I knew I should have checked.
Such a large amount of blood, yet no body in sight.
The purple vase with the yellow lines was scattered across the floor below me. It must have been thrown to the door. The room was a mess with clothes and shoes covering the majority of the single beds and the two armchairs. A pink jewelry box laid by the sizeable puddle of life fluid. Both of its miniature drawers had fallen out. It seemed empty.
‘Costa, is everything, OK?’ Tracy asked, standing in front of our cabin door. I did not reply. Just then, a serious-looking man wearing a blue suit with a matching tie came marching towards us.
‘Ship security,’ he declared. A short, young woman, dressed in white, followed him. ‘Is anyone in need of medical attention?’ she inquired, her head moving side-to-side, checking us out.
‘I am Costa Papacosta, police captain. I am staying next door. I heard screaming and came out…’
As I spoke, the man with the thick, black mustache stared at my mouth, his eyes squinted, his lips though ready to speak remained silent. His eyes travelled around, suspiciously checking everyone out. Then, he finally spoke.
‘Very good, sir. Now, please step aside and let us assess the situation,’ he sternly said and walked past me.
‘Be careful. There is broken glass on the floor. Don’t want to contaminate the crime scene, do you?’
I was used to pompous Greek men wearing suits and thinking they were an expert on pretty much everything.
He grunted slightly and entered the room on his tiptoes, his eyes never leaving the floor. The doctor came and stood beside me.
‘Whose room is this?’ she asked, as Mr. Security knelt down by the pool of blood.
I turned my head to the teacher sobbing behind me.
‘Holly’s,’ the spotty-faced boy next to her replied.
‘And, when did you see Holly last?’ I asked.
‘She left our room an hour ago to come and sleep,’ a black-haired teen with funky green sunglasses on said, struggling with the words; her crying chocking her as she spoke.
‘Is she dead?’ the boy on the floor asked.
‘Chris!’ his teacher managed to say, though she did turn to search for the expression in my eyes.
Truth be told, I doubt anyone could lose so much blood and survive. Of course, I said no such thing.
‘This is Nick Pavlou, reporting,’ the muscular guard spoke into his black walkie-talkie with the silver buttons. ‘We have a situation in cabin 204. I am sealing it off and coming up to bridge to inform. Get the Captain, asap.’
He listened to the crackling reply as he locked the cabin’s door, ignored me, nodded to the doctor and, then, turned to the teacher and said ‘Come to the area behind the reception with the girl’s best friends and whoever was with her last. Wait for me there. No one is to mention anything to the other pupils or teachers.’
He then turned to my direction. ‘Or other passengers,’ he added and marched off in the same manner in which he arrived.
I met Tracy’s eyes. She wore the same amazed expression. I could almost literally hear her thoughts.
‘How the hell do crimes keep finding you?’
Chapter 7
Ioli was never one to count time. Always thinking, always on the move, she hardly paid attention to the ever-moving hands of a clock. An hour had passed and still no sign from the shoemaker. Mr Sakis had not been in touch. His phone rang, yet no one answered. Ioli hated the wait. Her mind travelled back in time to a seven-year-old Ioli sitting in class in a rural primary school in Chania, Crete. Mr. Andreas Savvides, their math teacher, had asked them to sit totally still and quiet for a whole minute, watching the ticking of the seconds on the black-framed, wall clock of their classroom. Ioli had never felt more bored. ‘Did a minute really take so long to pass?’ she had thought at the time. Mr. Andreas had their attention. He proceeded with teaching his chapter of ‘Math and Time’. Nearly thirty years later, and Ioli stared at the clock. She spat out her strawberry-flavored gum and walked over to Alexandro, who held the case file.
Ioli and Alexandro discussed the case as grandma Sophia finally got to visit her grandson. She took the boy in her arms and stroked his full head of auburn blonde hair. Alone in the cell, they prayed together.
Valentina spent most of the hour over the phone looking for a hotel in which the two officers could stay. ‘Fully booked, sorry’. Three words she repeatedly heard until finding two single rooms. Finally, a two-star hotel on the outskirts of the town had two last-minute cancellations.
Valentina declared her success with a wide smile.
‘I am going to drive Mrs. Sophia home. Maybe I should drop both of you at the hotel? To freshen up, grab a bite maybe? With all good intentions, you look tired. No offense.’
‘None taken,’ Ioli replied, thinking how the girl was growing on her. She, also, noted that the grin on Alexandro’s face had turned into a semi-flirtatious smile. ‘Sounds like a good plan. We should eat and relax and recoup in an hour to go over our next steps. The girl’s best friend is coming in later and then, having given her some time, we will go visit the mother. Hopefully, Mr. Sakis will be in touch by then.’
The hotel was shaped like a chunky L, making the most out of its limited space. Its rooms were simple, not that Ioli or Alexandro required more. It was chosen by tourists for its spectacular view and its vast swimming pool that seemed to connect with the sea and sky. Ioli walked past the petite receptionist and exited the glass door to the pool area, leaving Alexandro to do all the paper work. The chlorinated waters welcomed tourists of all ages looking to cool off from the scorching sun. Kids ran around their sunbathing parents, dived into the pool under the disapproving look of the never-moving lifeguard with the frappe cup glued to his right hand, and lay out on colorful and animal-shaped inflatable mattresses. Ioli tenderly rubbed her tummy as she gazed at a tall-for-his-age, dark-haired boy laughing out loud as he squirted his father with his water pistol. Around the pool, crackling speakers blared out summer hits long forgotten in the rest of the world.
‘I’m heading straight for a shower. Wash away the humidity sticking to me. If that’s alright with you?’ Alexandro’s voice pulled her out of her daydreaming about a son she had yet to meet.
Ioli turned around with a wide smile. ‘You are asking for my permission to shower?’
Alexandro chuckled awkwardly. ‘No, no. I meant if you don’t need me at the moment…’
‘It’s fine. I need to lay down for a bit. My back is killing me and my feet are starting to resemble my poor grandma’s.’
Again, he smiled awkwardly and not knowing how to reply, he saluted her and rushed off to his room.
Ioli gazed, once more, towards the direction of the pool, wondering if she should have taken a leave of absence. Enjoy a week away in a nice hotel with her husband. After everything she saw during her time as a cop, Ioli often felt guilty when having a good time. Her mind seemed unable to shake out the gruesome images, did not allow her to relax and enjoy the finer things in life. An urge lived deep in her; an urge to help, to protect, to punish. Every now and then, she would pass the homicide department psychology’s office. She would approach the door, yet had never knocked. Secretly, she hoped having a baby would bring enough joy and light to fight away the darkness in her mind and heart.
Back in her room, she showered, letting the cold water run freely, cooling her aching body as it travelled down and circled the drain. Coming out of the bathroom, she checked the time on her phone. She set the alarm clock, which informed her she had only thirty-seven minutes to sleep, and fell backwards down on the bed. In less than a minute, she was fast asleep.
Thirty-seven minutes went by as quick as thirty-seven seconds. At least, Ioli’s mind perceived it that way. Drowsily, she searched for her phone and finally, brought silence to the dark room. ‘What kind of idiot named this alarm tone, Summer Bliss? What’s so freaking blissful about a high-pitched beeping sound with piano in the background?’ she grunted, her mouth half-buried in the uncomfortable, flat pillow.
She stood up naked and began to dress. As she placed her shoes on her aching feet, Valentina called her on her phone and Alexandro knocked discreetly on the door.
‘Punctual Greeks, that’s a first.’
In less than ten minutes, the trio sat in the station under the cooling air provided by the powerful A/C. Valentina filled in their short wait, with retelling how she had found nothing remarkable in Mrs. Sophia’s house. A clean, old lady’s home, tidy with icons scattered around. Adoni’s room held nothing connected to the victim or the vicious murder. ‘Your average teenage room it is not,’ Valentina said. ‘It was like two people lived in there. The posters on the walls and the dark colors indicated a young adult, yet toys were placed on the carpet, kids’ comic books were stacked on the night stand…’
‘His two natures. A boy in an eighteen-year-old’s body,’ Ioli said and onc
e again found herself looking up at the clock. Their wait was not long.
Soon, a plethoric blonde wearing a red tank top and a black mini skirt –both a size too small, entered the station.
‘Hurry up child,’ she snapped, pushing her shy eighteen-year-old daughter into the room.
While her own face was ready for the ball, not an ounce of make-up covered her shy daughter’s face.
‘Go on, Melina. I haven’t got all day. I have a speech in half-an-hour. Tell them what you told me at home and let’s get going.’
As her daughter approached and sat in the chair provided to her by Alexandro, the feisty woman continued ‘sorry, but it’s election period and I am this island’s best chance to get rid of that lazy, sleazy mayor of ours.’
Ioli did not bother with a reply. She focused her attention to the young brunette opposite her.
‘Melina, right? So, officer Valentina Kokkinou informed me that Natalie was at your house last night. I just need you to confirm our timeline and then, let’s talk about Natalie. I’m sure, as her best friend, you will be a great help…’
‘I lied.’
‘Excuse me?’
Melina could not bear Ioli’s eyes and lowered her own to the floor. ‘I lied. I always lied for her.’ She paused, her eyes growing watery.
‘Oh, come on, child, stop being so frigging sentimental. You know it’s a crime keeping the truth…’ her mother’s rant began, before being silenced by the rise of Ioli’s palm.
‘Melina?’ Ioli asked, leaning closer. ‘It’s alright, go on.’
‘We were not best friends. She just let me say so and in return I lied for her. You see, I am not the most popular girl in school and Natalie’s mother is way overprotective. It was a win-win situation.’
‘Where was Natalie last night, then?’
The girl raised her shoulders. ‘She never told me. It was with one boy or another. Though, lately, she seemed happier and when I asked her about it, she said she had finally found herself a real man and not another dumb boy.’
Murder On Display: A riveting, stand-alone murder / mystery that keeps you guessing until the shocking end (Greek Island Mysteries Book 4) Page 5