Murder On Display: A riveting, stand-alone murder / mystery that keeps you guessing until the shocking end (Greek Island Mysteries Book 4)

by Luke Christodoulou

  ‘Yes?’ the Captain called out, reminding us of his presence.

  ‘Good morning, Captain… Oh,’ the doctor said and ceased. Her eyes fell upon the flushed, startled teens. She turned towards us, leaving the girls behind her back. She dropped a large, brown envelope on the desk and mouthed ‘It’s animal blood’ to me. The Captain sighed with relief and wiped his forehead with his arm. I smiled and replied ‘Thank you.’ The doctor returned my smile and left the room. ‘I’ll go check on Nick,’ she said as she closed the door behind her. Nick was ordered by the Captain to assist Mrs. Anne to find her second missing pupil. There was no word of Chris’ whereabouts and his phone was switched off.

  ‘So, you are all claiming you have no idea how Holly’s jewelry got into your possessions?’

  ‘Exactly,’ Nicole said, verging on yelling.

  ‘No idea, sir,’ Karen said with Pascale nodding non-stop beside her.

  Marina held out her palms in a very Greek way of body language. I have no idea, her hands waved.

  I tapped my fingers on the wooden desk and scraped my broad jaw.

  ‘Do any of you know Izzy Dix?’

  The girls had the same expression I wore on algebra tests. ‘Who?’ Nicole asked, pushing back her black hair.

  ‘She was a fourteen-year-old girl that committed suicide due to bullying. Holly had handwritten a poem of hers,’ I said and paused. ‘Was Holly bullied?’

  For the first time, their facial expressions showed that they knew something. All of them. They sat up awkwardly, they played with their fingers, they rubbed their legs and their eyes trembled as color slowly vanished from their youthful faces.

  ‘I’ll take that as a yes. Bullied by you?’

  The three girls turned towards Nicole’s direction. Nicole rolled her eyes.

  ‘Oh, bitches, please. As if it was only me. Anyway, it was probably about her mother, not us, so chill.’

  ‘Okay, Nicole. Relax. Slow down. Tell me about what you girls did or said and then about her mother,’ I said and sat down on the chair opposite her. I leaned closer to the girl with the watery eyes.

  ‘Holly was… Look, I know how this sounds like to working people like you, but in our world it matters, OK?’

  I nodded as if I understood.

  ‘Holly was not rich like us. We all come from aristocracy and families that go back centuries. Holly’s mother is just a shoe designer that made it big. Not super rich, but enough to send Holly to our school. But, Holly was different. She was not raised rich. She envied our talks about Switzerland and drivers and galas and such. She spoke about things we didn’t get. So, sometimes, yeah, we made fun of her. But nothing harsh. We always call each other names. To be honest, she was starting to grow on me. That’s why I agreed to share a room with her. To get closer, you know? Get to know her better,’ Nicole opened her mouth and let the river flow out of her.

  ‘If she was different why did you let her into your group?’

  ‘My mum forced me. She wanted to get to know Holly’s mother and get exclusive designs. But, as I said, Holly wasn’t all that bad. I would not call what we said to her as bullying. The world is turning too freaking PC; my daddy always says.’

  ‘And what about her relationship with her mother?’

  ‘Now, that’s bullying!’ Pascale said.

  ‘How so?’

  Karen replied. ‘Holly never knew her dad. It was just her and her mama. And that woman would do anything to get into rich circles. She wanted to be treated like a queen. And, Holly with her plain hair, freckled face, extra weight and commoner attitude, did not fit her mother’s schemes. She bullied Holly to lose weight, to dress better, to wear makeup at all times and sent her to piano, ballet and a million other lessons. Holly hardly ate or slept.’

  ‘She once told me that she dreamt that her mother would die and leave her in peace,’ Marina admitted.

  The knocking on the metal door echoed through the room and interrupted my mind processing the chances of Holly’s suicide.

  ‘Could this all be to escape her mother? And frame her friends? Or did she leave them a piece of jewelry as presents? If she did kill herself where is the body? Overboard? Why stage a crime scene? And what about the boyfriend?’

  Mrs. Anne stood at the door with Nick and his cold, bored expression behind her. She had her arm around Roberto, Chris’ best friend and roommate.

  ‘Go on Roberto, tell them,’ Mrs Anne urged him.

  The Italian licked his lips and with a mischievous grin showed us his phone. ‘Chris just called me. He’s in Syros. He wants us to turn around and go pick him up.’

  ‘Turn around?’ the captain asked in shock.

  ‘What is he doing in Syros?’ I asked, standing up.

  Roberto raised his top lip. He took a moment to reply.

  ‘He said Holly never showed. He got tired of waiting.’

  Chapter 20

  Mrs. Sophia gazed out of her kitchen window, her hands sunk deep into the soap-filled water that filled the sink. She never left home leaving behind dirty plates. She had just finished eating her small portion of salmon and boiled vegetables. She had served two large pieces of fish with vegetables and rice for Adonis, and covered it with tin foil. The lemon fragrance of the dishwasher liquid competed with the hot apple-pie aroma escaping the oven. She placed the dishes to her side to dry, and opened the oven.

  ‘Perfect,’ she said and sniffed the air. The golden brown, sugar coated pie stood proudly before her. She placed it on the table, closed the window, checked for pesky flies and rushed to her bedroom to change into her long, black dress. Mrs.an Sophia had not worn any color outside of her house since her husband’s funeral. She was only twenty-seven at the time and was left a widow with a five-year-old baby girl, Adonis’ mother. She never remarried nor even thought about another man. Even if friends tried to persuade her that it was not the horrendous sin that she decided it was.

  ‘To lay with another man! I’m a widow and a mother!’ she had told her mother off for trying to talk her into going on a date with a widower from a nearby village.

  The seventy-two-year old woman re-entered her kitchen, opened the top drawer and took out a large, sharp knife. She stood above the pie and hoped it had adequate time to have settled. She, then, began to slice large triangular pieces.

  ‘One for the house, one for Jesus and one for me. The perfect treat for my afternoon coffee,’ she said as she cut out three pieces. She looked at the remaining pie. ‘Enough for my boy and three cops.’

  Just then, the doorbell echoed loudly through the tall-ceiling house.

  ‘I hope it’s not Helen, again. I told that sinner that I would vote for her. I can’t stand another vote for me coffee session,’ Mrs. Sophia whispered as she approached the door.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘It’s Lieutenant Ioli Cara…’

  Mrs. Sophia waited to hear no more. She pulled the door wide open, her expression revealing her obvious disappointment. ‘I thought you had brought my Adonis home.’

  ‘No such luck, grandma,’ Ioli commented, chewing gum and walking past the old lady into the house.

  Mrs. Sophia’s eyes opened wide and scanned Ioli from head to toe. Ioli wore a short red dress, with a deep cleavage and a revealing back. Pregnancy was unable to prevent Ioli from looking dazzling. Dazzling was not the word Mrs. Sophia would have used for the lack of fabric covering Ioli’s body. The amount of provocative makeup accelerated the old lady’s heartbeat.

  ‘Going to the ball?’ she finally managed to say.

  ‘It’s my day off today. This is how I always look off-duty. A woman has to work with what the good Lord has so generously provided her,’ Ioli replied, pushing up her bosom.

  ‘Well, I must admit, you did not seem this way…’ Mrs Sophia. said and paused, unsure of how to continue. She did not want to offend the officer in charge of the case that her grandson was arrested for. ‘How may I help you, today?’ she inquired, wondering about the reason of the Lieutenant
’s unexpected visit. ‘I was on my way over, actually. I’ve made Adoni some salmon and some apple pie for you all,’ she continued, walking into the kitchen.

  ‘Oh, no need for that. I was planning on taking Adoni out for the day, lunch, beach, the whole works.’

  Mrs. Sophia stood puzzled by her steamy, apple pie. ‘Is that… err… allowed? Proper?’

  ‘Why not? We all know he is innocent. And he is such a sweetheart. What girl would not want a day at the beach with him?’

  ‘I… I…’ Mrs. Sophia struggled to form a sentence. Her pale complexion slowly disappeared, giving way to a more reddish one. ‘I don’t think it is proper to talk like this, Mrs. Cara. You are… what do they call it on those TV shows? You are out of line, that is what you are! I do not like what you are implying here,’ she said, the speed of her speech accelerating. Her hands swung uncontrollably and she waved them about as her high-pitched words were released.

  ‘Oh, come on, Sophia. You know how these things go,’ Ioli said and approached the round kitchen table. She dipped her finger into the pie and took out a dripping piece of well-baked apple. ‘Mmm, delicious,’ she said as she licked her finger, wrapping her tongue around it. ‘Adoni says he knows all the best beaches on the island. Even the hidden ones. I’ve heard there is a nudist beach on the east side. I read it is good to soak up as much sun as possible while pregnant…’

  ‘That is unacceptable. There is no way in hell I will allow a whore like you to take my boy to a nudist beach,’ the old lady said, banging her clenched fist on the table.

  Ioli could not control a slight smile. ‘That is quite a temper you’ve got there, granny. But, bottom line is, fuck you. The boy is an adult. He is eighteen and he is fascinated by me. You know, I’ve split with my man and you know how hard it is to raise a child in this bankrupt country. I’m pretty sure Adonis gets good welfare cash…’

  ‘Shut up, you demon!’

  Ioli ignored her screams and continued ‘He will fall straight into my arms. He is heartbroken. He really loved Natalie. Hot, steamy, teenage sex with such an experienced girl must be hard to get over.’

  ‘Close your mouth, Lucifer! Shut up! My boy never touched that Babylonian whore. She walked around with her ass and boobs hanging out, opening her legs to every man that smiled at her.’

  ‘Thank God, she’s dead,’ Ioli said, nodding in agreement.

  ‘Praise His name!’ Mrs. Sophia shouted. ‘She deserved to die.’

  ‘Is that why you killed her? Did she come on to poor Adonis? That slut!’

  Mrs. Sophia took a step back. Her eyes dead still, focused on Ioli’s.

  ‘Is that what you think?’

  ‘I don’t think. I know. You are always with him. You said so yourself, the priest said so and every person I’ve interrogated mentioned how you always followed him around.’

  ‘I keep him safe from the sins of this world. Anyway, you are just speculating. You have no proof…’

  ‘That’s what you believe. You lied about your daughter’s death. I looked into it. You mentioned how Adonis was only four when she died. Andreas, Mr. Sakis’ son, mentioned how he came to primary school after his mother’s death. Why did you lie? Maybe, because Adoni has memories of you killing her? Helped her overdose? You thought if you said he was only four at the time, we would not ask him about it? Besides, after I suspected you, I ask to run your DNA with evidence collected off Mr. Sakis. Guess what? We found your DNA on his clothes. Your sweaty palms touched his shirt when you pushed him off the cliff, did they not? You asked to meet him after you heard his message to the station. You sat outside at that very moment when Valentina played the tape.’

  ‘Screw you, you witch. If you know so much, why don’t you arrest me?’ she yelled, her left hand crawling across the tablecloth, approaching the sharp kitchen knife by the pie.

  ‘Isn’t it obvious? I want Adoni. I am here to propose an offer. I will turn a blind eye to your killing spree and drop the charges against Adoni. In exchange, Adoni and I will marry. With him as my baby’s stepdad, my baby will be entitled to welfare, free education, free transport, special treatment. And, you are old, this house will be his one day. On my wage, I could never afford a country house on an island.’

  ‘Well, well, well. Look at your true colors shining through.’

  ‘Cut the small talk. What do you say?’ Ioli asked, hoping for a confession. The sensitive tape recorder in her pocket waited for the correct incriminating words to be spoken.

  ‘No, of course. The Lord will never forgive me. Letting his white soul be ruined by your money-whoring ways.’

  ‘And what about your soul? Your murdering ways? Aren’t you playing God? Isn’t that blasphemy?’

  ‘I kill in the name of the Lord.’

  ‘Is that why you took her head up to church?’

  ‘I prayed for her to the Holy Mother Mary. I left her there to be forgiven. And, I left her body on display for all to see, to prevent other girls from going down that road.’

  Ioli felt like praying to the Holy Mother that the recorder picked up Mrs. Sophia’s words, loud and clear. ‘You have an excuse for everything, don’t you? Guess you killed your own daughter to save Adoni?’

  The old lady just nodded, her hand laying upon the knife’s plastic handle.

  ‘Don’t play saint with me. What about Mr. Sakis? From what I’ve heard he was a good man. What was he?’

  ‘Collateral damage.’

  ‘Fancy words, grandma. Guess I have to arrest you as you refused my offer.’

  Mrs. Sophia began to walk slowly towards Ioli. ‘I like how you think you are leaving here…’ she spoke, taking a step with every word. ‘… alive,’ she shouted as she raised the knife in the air, ready to stab Ioli.

  Ioli’s hands rushed down, pulling out her gun and without hesitation she expertly took a shot. The bullet hit Mrs. Sophia’s left shoulder, just by the bone. The force of the shot pushed her back as she leaped to stab Ioli. She flew back and fell on the hard, tiled floor.

  Crimson blood oozed out of her fresh wound. Her eyes rolled upwards and her body shook violently. ‘Heavenly Father, protect your servant. I pray to you through the Saint of saints, the Holy Mother Mary and through the Holy name of your Son…’ she whispered with difficulty. Heavy breaths intervened with her prayers.

  Ioli knelt to her side, placing her hands on the wound. She knew well where to hit. A clean shot, through and through. Valentina ran into the house, firearm first. She had been waiting outside, Ioli’s orders.

  ‘Ambulance,’ Ioli whispered to her, barely making a sound.

  Valentina replied -in the same manner, that she had already called for the lone doctor on the island.

  Ioli’s hand ordered her to stay back, out of Mrs. Sophia’s eyesight.

  ‘Mrs. Sophia, leave the praying for salvation. I am an expect shooter, you will be dead in minutes. Pray for forgiveness if you wish, but first, admit to your crimes. Save Adoni. With you dead, I will have nothing to save him in court.’

  ‘My boy, my sweet, sweet boy…’ she cried.

  ‘I have my tape recorder with me,’ Ioli said, taking the recorder out of her pocket. ‘State who you are and admit to your sins.’

  Ioli reached out and grabbed the half-empty glass on the table. ‘Here, have some water.’ She lifted the old lady’s head with her hand and brought the glass to her dry lips. She let her take a few sips and then pressed down again on her open wound with Mrs Sophia’s black head scarf.

  ‘My name is Sophia Papageorgiou and my boy, Adoni is innocent of the crime he is being accused of. I murdered Natalie. She was a whore and the Lord told me to save her.’

  Mrs. Sophia took a deep breath and added ‘I, also, killed my own daughter to protect him.’

  Ioli, then, tied her wound and sat her up upon her legs. She took a piece of paper from her pocket and quickly wrote the words Mrs. Sophia had just spoken. ‘Sign here, too,’ she said, placing her blue pen in the wounded woman’s hand.
/>   Ioli guided her hand to the paper. A drop of blood fell beside her signature. A dot to end the sentence, to close the bloody case.

  ‘I surrender my soul to your judgment, Lord…’ Mrs. Sophia restarted her praying.

  ‘Save it, grandma,’ Ioli said, standing up, her hands firmly on the table, helping her with her extra weight. ‘You are fine. Get ready for the judgment of the law, first. You are going down for four murders. Natalie was pregnant.’

  Chapter 21

  News on Greek islands travel faster than wildfire; could possibly even break land speed records if the gossip was juicy enough. Every family living on Mrs. Sophia’s road stood on their balconies and front verandas, among water-deprived flower pots and blossoming trees, watching as Mrs. Sophia was carried out on a medical stretcher, her bare shoulder wrapped with a bloody bandage.

  ‘The cop shot her,’ one lady said, wiping her hands on her red apron.

  ‘I heard she murdered Natalie. The doctor’s wife told me so,’ an obese forty-year old commented as her two boys played with their water-pistols around her.

  ‘She always had a mean streak in her, that one,’ a senior man said and continued watering his lemon trees.

  The doctor and his nurse wife, accompanied by Alexandro entered the doctor’s station-wagon and headed to port. Mrs. Sophia had to be transferred to the nearest general hospital on the nearby island of Naxos.

  Alexandro turned and looked at Valentina standing by her vehicle, her hair floating carefree in the breeze that cooled the high-hilled street. When time is available, we never speak, waiting for the so-called right moment. Now, with so much left unsaid and not a second to lose, Alexandro sat in the car wondering if he would ever get a chance to speak to Valentina again.

  ‘I could return for a holiday…’ was his last thought as the doctor drove off and Valentina’s figure became one with the horizon.

  Ioli sat on a wooden garden chair with a hand-made hay back and drank a glass of water. She held the glass to her mouth and let the ice-cubes settle on her lips.