The long red brick herringbone drive stretched out in front like a trail of dried blood. Expensive, but then everything on the property was, from the white marble of the house to the sloping gardens and the tennis courts just visible from the drive.
It was too hot to walk even a short distance, but Savva was too confined, too hemmed in, at the Fitzroy house. How glorious to be alone for five minutes, to let his mind wander along quiet paths. Sometimes it was too much, always having to talk to someone, admonish underlings, or plead with the bosses for more overtime. He thought longingly of taking his father's old boat out on the Aegean for a day of fishing. Perhaps he'd even be able to persuade Shayma to come; she needed a break. It had become overwhelming for her … surrounded by the constant trauma of Syrian refugees.
"And who might you be?"
Savva jumped back in astonishment. In fact, he barely contained an unmanly shriek. The door flung wide, and there stood a distracting woman. He hadn't knocked, or scraped his feet. She must have watched him walk the entire drive.
"Captain Savva, Lesvos Police Department," he said, recovering his wits and producing his warrant card.
The woman didn't even look at it. She smiled though, in a sickly, sweet-candy-seller way. Savva was never a handsome man, even in his prime, and therefore never on the receiving end of one of these types of smiles. He smiled back balefully. She was beautiful, in a too-much makeup, skimpy dress way.
"And you are?"
"Megan Moreau," she said, extending her hand.
Savva shook it although he was sure she meant for him to kiss it.
"A pleasure," Savva said. "I was wondering if I might ask you some questions about your neighbors, John and Davonna Fitzroy."
"Do come in," she said silkily. She led him to a large front room with outstretched sweeping windows and an overwhelming mass of gold. Savva blinked in the brightness. "Now what may I do for you, Captain? Oh dear, that's no good; what's your name?"
Savva sighed. "Alexandros."
"Oh yes, meaning 'the defender of men'; is it applicable to you?"
"I doubt it. I've always thought my mother was a snob."
"Why. It's common enough." she replied
"She enjoyed the history behind it."
"Alexandros the Great."
"Precisely," Savva said. "I'd like to ask you questions regarding the Fitzroy’s."
"Fire away, Alexandros," she said, leaning back against the plush cushions of a gold damask chaise.
"How well did you know the Fitzroy’s?"
"Oh, for ages. I introduced myself when they moved in. John was lovely."
"And Mrs. Fitzroy?"
"Dowdy. I could never stand her."
"Were you on good terms with John Fitzroy?"
"Oh, yes, darling, we were having an affair," Megan said.
Savva blinked. "I see," he said, recovering. "And did Mrs. Fitzroy know?"
"No, she didn't. John and I had been seeing each other off and on since they moved here. Nothing serious. I don't go in for that stuff nowadays. Just sex. Glorious sex. The string-less, no 'please take out the trash dear' sex."
"Are you sure that Mrs. Fitzroy didn't know?"
"I'm not sure. From what John said she was an absolute terror. You know the type; whiny, ungrateful, always spying."
"But she didn't know about the affair? You're neighbors."
"Yes, well, between the two of us, we kept it a secret. John didn't come over every day. Good Lord, did you think he did?" Megan said with a smirk. "I can't handle a man around that much. No, it was usually twice a week or when he had a long lunch."
"I see, and how was Mr. Fitzroy in the months preceding his death?"
Megan took a deep breath and shifted against the couch. "You know I still can't believe he's dead. It's horrible."
"Yes, I can imagine you're cut up about it."
Megan frowned. "John was distracted. He had a lot going on at the hotel and Davonna was being her usual self. It was the last couple of weeks I noticed a change. He was overly vigorous during sex, not that I minded. It was just different. And he didn't talk much afterwards and wouldn't stay for tea. But come to think of it, for the last six months, we saw less and less of each other."
"Why, do you think?"
"I don't know, do I?" Megan snapped. "If I had to guess, I'd say there was another woman."
"Another woman?" Savva asked. "Another, another woman?"
"Yes, another mistress. I've been through this before. My first husband had a whole string of them. Not one after another, but a host of them at the same time. It was a wondrous relief to divorce him, and take his money and then live in the glorious media spotlight with my head held high playing the strong, jilted wife."
"I see," Savva said, holding back a sneer of disgust.
"Anyways,” she continued. “I'm sure he had another woman, my guess is someone from the hotel. They have the pick of the good-looking island girls. Good wages."
"Yes, thank you. Well, if you think of anything else, please call me," Savva said, handing over his card.
He turned and walked out of the room. Megan flipped the card around her fingers, concentrating hard. His hand was on the handle of the door when he heard footsteps behind him. Megan walked towards him, a frown on her face.
"By the way, Alexandros, dear, why are you asking about the Fitzroy’s?"
"It's routine."
"Ah …" she said. "Well I've remembered something. It couldn't have been more than two weeks ago. Davonna had a policeman come round the house. In the middle of the night."
Savva contained an eye roll with great difficulty. "Did she?"
"Yes she did. He stayed for a while before he came out to his car and stayed parked in the driveway for the better part of an hour. Then, a few hours later, he came back! Now what do you think it was about?" She looked at him as though she'd produced irrefutable evidence for something. What was she trying to prove?
"And you think this was …"
"I think she was having an affair."
Again, Savva couldn't stop his eyes from rolling. "Ms. Moreau, the night you are referring to, the Fitzroy house was burgled. The sergeant assigned to the call, submitted his report before the end of his shift. He even chased the intruder out of the house and onto your property."
Megan's face colored unattractively under her thick, cakey foundation. She blinked. It was one moment's hesitation, but Savva recognized its importance.
"Might I ask what you were doing up so late as to notice a police vehicle at the Fitzroy house?"
"Oh, I'm a night owl. I enjoy getting work done when the house is quiet."
"Yes, I imagine quiet must be scarce for you," he said. "Did you tell Mr. Fitzroy about the police at the house, at your next meeting?"
"He knew. The police phoned him at the hotel."
Savva smiled, shook Megan's silky hand, and once more sighed with pleasure as he breathed the fresh air. A moment later though, his head dropped and his shoulders melted. The force of the hot wind slammed into his body, shocking it. He blinked and staggered sideways a few steps; before he set off across the driveway, back to Booras and the car. He pulled out his phone and made a note to talk to the officer who'd been at the Fitzroy house.
As soon as he reached the road, something tugged at the edges of his mind. His right hand flew to his beard, and he stroked the short hairs under his bottom lip. What was it? He stared at the house. Stared at the road to it, stared out at the sea. But it was gone as though it had blown away in the wind.
"Damn this heat," Savva growled. He stuck his hands into his pocket and trudged back to the car.
Davonna stood in front of the refrigerator and heaved a sigh. There was no food to eat. It had all gone rancid since John's death. The Greek yoghurt smelled as though it had sat outside in the sun for a week and the strawberries and blueberries were white with mold. Even the bread wasn't left unsullied.
She hung her head and slumped into a chair. She'd have to go into town
and she couldn't bear to take the flashy BMW. Captain Savva would find out. He'd want to know why she'd all-of-a-sudden changed her habits. No, it was better to walk and face the stares.
Ioannis was just turning into his gate as Davonna shut hers. He shaded his eyes with one hand and called out to her. She slipped the straps of the basket further up her arm and turned to face him.
"Kalimera," she said, before he could manage a hello.
"How are you?" He reached out with a strong arm and touched her shoulder. Her body relaxed under his warmth and kindness.
"I needed groceries."
"Why don't I do your shopping for you? Or I can drive you? You shouldn't be walking in this heat."
"I don't mind. It gives me time to think, time to be alone.”
She smiled and hurried away, a cloud of dust trailing her.
The sun beat down with a pointed ferocity, a long line of sweat broke out where the handles of the basket rubbed her arm. Davonna sighed, hung her head, and walked on. Every car on the road slowed to a crawl as it passed her. She ached to turn around and beg Ioannis to buy food so she wouldn't have to face the people, but she was too proud; too concerned about what looked right.
At the bakery Davonna stood at the end of the line, her hat in one hand and the basket in the other. She wanted to lean against the counter like the mother of four in front of her was doing as she tried to ignore the skirt-grabbing and whiny begging. She closed her eyes and wobbled on her feet. The room shifted in an out of focus, and the chattering voices in the bakery were muffled and faint as if they were coming from across the street. She should have taken the car. It would have been nice to have an air-conditioned ride, to sling the groceries in the back, and drive home. But it would've been over too quickly and she wanted more time.
"Davonna, you're here!" Spiros propelled his body from behind the counter and pulled her into a rapid tight embrace, she bounced off his protruding belly. "We've been so worried! How are you?"
Davonna tried to step back and dragged her dress down from where it had rode up her thigh, but Spiros held onto her upper arms and peered into her eyes. The other customers stared, their eyes shrinking to slits as they turned to their neighbors in line and whispered behind their hands.
"Maria, watch the front for a while!" Aris called out, motioning for Spiros and Davonna to follow him. They walked down a wide hallway and into the same narrow office with its monumental flour dusted computers.
"We haven't seen you for days, darling, how are you?"
Davonna took a deep breath and crossed and crossed her legs. "I've been all right. Captain Savva, do you know him?"
Spiros and Aris looked at each other for a moment, something passed between them. A short look full of worry and resignation. "His family has been here for ages," Spiros said.
"Yes, he's ... how do you say—tenacious. He gets an idea in his head and won't let go of it. Like a dog with a bone," Aris said, using the English phrase.
"Oh," Davonna said. A call came from the front and Spiros left to help, but Aris didn't move.
"What's the matter? And why on Earth did you walk all this way today, it’s boiling?"
Davonna tried to hide her weariness in a winning smile so he wouldn't press too hard. But she didn't want him to stop. It was nice to have a friend sitting in front of you, asking how you were doing, and how they could help. It spilled out before she could put the cover back. It spilled out, everything except what mattered.
"I drove to the hotel yesterday—to collect John's things. I overheard his mistress talking about me. That I manipulated him and I stayed home because I didn't want to work; on and on. And Savva will hear it from the girl, and what will happen to me?"
"He was having an affair?"
"Yes. Six months according to her. Savva had this funny look on his face when he came to the house yesterday as though he was fishing for what I knew or what I had done … or driven John to do. No, that's horrible. That's horrible to think about." Davonna dropped her head into her hands.
"You think Savva will listen to this girl?"
"She's not a girl, not really."
"But he will listen to her?"
"I don't see why not. There are two others who know. And I can't prove what happened in my home."
Aris took a deep breath as though steeling himself for an unpleasant task. "What did transpire in your home?"
Davonna didn't have to prepare, the answer came readily to her lips, as if it wasn't a lie anymore. "We had a lovely marriage. We were happy. I thought we were happy."
"Why do you always walk to the shops?"
Davonna paused, tasting, smelling the air before she continued. "I enjoy the exercise and the fresh air. I like that it takes longer." She bit her tongue. She hadn't meant to say the last bit.
"It's a gorgeous walk, but too hot this time of year."
"I don't mind."
"No, but promise me, you'll take a car until it gets cooler. You don't look like you have your strength back yet. Why don't I call Thanos to give you a ride home?"
"I couldn't, and he's a police officer, people would whisper."
"He isn't on duty today. Plus he's my sister's boy. He'll do it for me." He placed his hand on her knee and smiled.
Davonna smiled, because it was impossible not to smile when Aris did. His dark eyes crinkled with joy and his body rippled with possibilities. The air crackled electricity.
"I have a few more errands to run."
"He'll meet you in a half hour in front of the bakery."
Spiros' belly preceded him around the corner. In one hand he carried a large brown paper bag with Davonna's usual order. "You must take care of yourself. Perhaps we can drop off the bread next week?" He put the bread lovingly into her basket. It was like being surrounded by a pair of uncles.
"I'll come, and I'll drive if you insist, Aris."
"I do."
Davonna leaned forward and kissed their cheeks, but only because they expected it. She walked out of the office and hurried from the bakery. The customers stared as she walked down the uneven sidewalk and entered the crowded market, alight with haggling vendors and clients, where she flitted around the vegetable stands and stood in line at the butcher's. Sack after sack dropped into the basket until it cut into her forearm and her fingers tingled. She walked with slow labored steps. The tilted cobblestones threw her off balance and she barely caught herself against the peeling paint of a black car barrier.
"Careful, Mrs. Fitzroy."
Thanos had come. "Thank you."
"Here's the car, just put them in the boot here."
Davonna walked to the little yellow Peugeot. The gulls called in the background and she almost joined their cries in relief. Thanos opened her door, and she stole a glance at him. His dark hair was combed to one side and his eyes were alight with a smile she never saw when he was in uniform. Perhaps he was allowed to be a real person today when usually he wasn't.
They drove through the streets in a quiet, detached way. Davonna looked, unseeing, out the dusty window, her arms around her knees. Thanos gripped the wheel with a quiet ferocity and only once did he take his eyes off the road to steal a look at her.
They circled up the hill and soon Mitilini was beneath them, a patchwork of brown and green and orange roofs, and the Aegean sprang up to cover the horizon. Thanos pulled into the driveway with the familiar crunch of gravel. How had they gotten here already? The Peugeot idled in the summer heat as they sat in a precarious silence.
"Do you know anything?" she asked, as she continued to stare at the house.
"Know what?"
"What Captain Savva has found."
"I'm not on the investigatory team."
"Do they have any answers?"
"Davonna, what's wrong?" Thanos turned in his seat and tried to catch her eye.
She gazed out the window, watching as the flowers of the bougainvillea swayed in the breeze. "Life is strange. One moment you're going along, and everything is mind-numbingly no
rmal, and then it changes in seconds, and you're left with disaster. I never thought John would die. I thought it would continue as it always did."
Thanos frowned. She didn't cry or shudder with suppressed sobs, but sat there as though caught in the glare of a blinding light. Thanos couldn't put his finger on what confused him about her behavior. She was quiet, too quiet. She was never with John. She was perpetually scanning; on the lookout for ... was it answers? But he was drawn to her, drawn to the mystery and her sadness.
"I don't know what Captain Savva has found, but he was at the hotel yesterday."
"Why?"
Thanos considered her carefully. "For background on Mr. Fitzroy. Yesterday he asked about the report I filed the night of the break in. And he's spoken to your neighbor; a Ms. Moreau."
"Why?"
"She was awake and saw me arrive at the house."
"But why would it matter?"
"I'm not sure. According to some of the guys at the station, she's loose."
"What do you mean?" Davonna said. Her head was so clouded, she couldn't reason.
"She's ah … slept around … a lot."
"I know she had an affair with John."
"What?" Thanos said, twisting around in his seat facing her.
"I knew from the first day we arrived. He drove to her house. He'd been to Lesvos two times before we moved. I saw him enter, and I saw him leave. They kissed on the front porch.
"John denied it and I had no other choice but to play along. I don't see what this has to do with his death. Why does it matter he slept with other women?"
"Was the neighbor the only one?"
"No. There was another woman at the hotel. I received an anonymous letter from someone at the hotel, maybe four months ago. All it said was that John was having an affair with a girl at the hotel. It was kind. They thought I should be aware."
"Do you still have it?"
"No, I threw it away." Davonna sighed and hung her head, "I don't understand what's going on."
"It'll be ok."
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