Out there, sitting on her furniture, was the man who just said that John was murdered, ready to gauge her response. The spouse was always the first suspect, weren't they? And with Athena's damning words the hammer would fall. Davonna stuck out her hand and she pushed off the floor. The woman in the mirror was haggard, her face tinged with grey, and her hair hung in limp wet clumps. She pulled a spare bottle of mouthwash from under the sink and gargled, thankful at least to get it out of her mouth. Her throat was raw, and all she could think of was water. She turned on the faucet and drank from the pool in her hands—drank until she couldn't remember how many handfuls she'd poured, but it wasn't enough.
She left the bathroom, padding across the hall and back to the drawing room. Savva stood as she entered and held out a tall object, which caught the light. Only when she drew close, did she realize it was a glass of water. She took it gratefully.
"I'm sorry to have caused you distress, Mrs. Fitzroy. Are you well enough to answer questions?"
Davonna took a small sip of the cool water and set the glass down on a side table and nodded.
"The damage to the vehicle was done recently. Have you noticed anyone hanging around? Did anyone come to the house that wasn't supposed to have been here? Even people who had reason to? Perhaps in the last month?"
Davonna stared past Savva and tried to ease the ache in her throat. "Other than the burglary incident, no. There's rarely anyone but John and I here. Our gate is locked but the hedges aren't high. It wouldn't be difficult for someone to get over them."
Savva frowned. "There's only been yourself and Mr. Fitzroy here the entire month?"
"As I said, we are private people and John didn't like to entertain. We barely even see our neighbors. I might say hello to Ioannis as I walk into town, but that's it."
"Your husband didn't like to entertain?"
"No."
"And can you account for your whereabouts the last month?" Savva said as he took out a pad and pen.
"Just here and in the village. A lot of people saw me. I go on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday."
"Yes, I've spoken to others who say the same. But where else, Mrs. Fitzroy?"
"Nowhere else."
Savva looked up from his pad and blinked. "Surely you've gone out. Think now."
"I don't have to. All I need is here," Davonna said. The look on Savva's face troubled her. He frowned as though what she said couldn't be true.
"And the last week before your husband died?"
It was Davonna's turn to frown. "I've already told you. I was working in the garden. I had several tasks to finish."
"Yes, I remember; the list your husband wrote."
"The list we wrote," Davonna corrected.
Savva gave her a small smile which did not reach his eyes, "Oh, yes."
"I didn't leave the house all week. There wasn't any time."
"You can attest to the fact that no one was on the property for the last week."
"Only while I was awake."
"One more question, Mrs. Fitzroy, is the garage kept locked?"
Davonna frowned. "Not usually."
"I see." Savva leaned back against the cushions of the couch and stared at the ceiling.
Davonna's head spun, and she tried to piece together the puzzle that Savva was presenting.
Savva rose, "That'll be all for now, Mrs. Fitzroy. I'll let you know if I have any more questions."
Davonna stood, wholly confused. "You'll let me know what you find?"
"In so far as I'm allowed."
He walked out of the drawing room without a goodbye and closed the front door behind him, a dull thud. Davonna stood in the entryway and stared at the door. After a moment she walked back to the drawing room and stared out at the driveway. Savva put his hand to the handle of his car when he looked back at the house and his gaze fell upon Davonna at the window. He gave a little wave which she returned, and then got into his car and left. He didn't even spare a glance for the garage.
Davonna stood at the window, her mind turning over Savva's words. Her legs ached, but she stood there until she had pieced it together, what Savva was after and what had happened to John. The car was meddled with, and there were only two possibilities—her or some nefarious intruder. The latter didn't seem plausible since they rarely had visitors. Why did Savva ask about the list again? Did he believe her—that it was a friendly agreement between spouses about chores? Her parents had shared lists. Perhaps it was where she got the idea.
Whatever it was, every time they spoke, Savva stared at her as though he was trying to solve a puzzle in which certain pieces didn't fit. There were times Davonna was sure Savva knew—knew what John had done.
She turned from the window to face an empty house, but John's spirit (what else could she call it?) lingered, taunting her. He was inescapable, as easy to be rid of as the sky overhead. Reality fell into a cold ditty, and when it was done, she was a heap on the floor.
XI
Τι δε σε νοιάζει μη ρωτάς, ποτέ κακό δεν έχεις.
What doesn't concern you, don't ask about, and you'll never have bad things in your life.
Savva saw her standing at the window and waved. He couldn't help it. She forced that response. She was frail, a motherless deer at the side of the road, starving. Davonna waved back but didn't smile and he stepped into the car. He debated what to do.
Savva drove. It would raise Davonna's suspicions if he walked. He swung the black car out of the Fitzroy's drive and into their neighbors'. Savva looked at the house with a mixture of pride and incredulity. His countryman had amassed such great wealth and now relaxed into prosperity, but then again, only two people lived in this mansion, and to Savva, that was a waste.
Pink gravel crunched merrily under his feet as he made his way to the double door entrance. The bell rang throughout the house, but within moments the door opened, and Ioannis stood in the doorway with a dubious sideways glance.
"Kalispera, Sir, I am Captain Savva, and I am investigating the death of John Fitzroy. Might I come in an ask you a few questions?"
"Ioannis Dukas. Come in," he said and motioned Savva through the doors. "My wife is out."
Ioannis led Savva through the house and out the back onto a wide stone terrace. His bare feet made no noise on the stone floors and his grey linen pants swished like a lady's fan. On the terrace, statues adorned the corners where a half wall separated the patio from the lawn. A glass-topped table stood to the left side, under a thick blue umbrella. Ioannis motioned for Savva to sit.
"I'm glad to find you at home," Savva said as he relaxed into his chair. Ioannis smiled but remained silent. "You're no doubt aware of Mr. Fitzroy's recent death."
"I am."
"The Fitzroy's marriage, whatever Mrs. Fitzroy says—I do not believe it to be a happy one. Mr. Fitzroy was carrying on two affairs at the time of his death and there's evidence to suggest they were not his first. I therefore have a hard time swallowing the 'happy marriage' line."
"What you need to understand, Captain Savva, is that John Fitzroy was not an easy man. I am only his neighbor and I found the man grating after short periods of time. He could charm and be agreeable when it suited him. He made overtures to my wife in our own home. John only does that which serves his own interests—served his own interests."
"And your evidence?"
"We had a dispute over the property line. When the surveyors first said the line was too far on to my property he dug in his heels and wasn't bothered, but when a second survey found that the line was too far on his property, he was more than willing to take me to court to solve the matter."
"When was this?"
"Six years ago, or thereabouts. John Fitzroy wasn't an easy neighbor. I can't imagine he was any easier to live with."
"Can you explain?"
"Davonna is continually tired. The week before he died she nearly killed herself working outside in that massive garden. She worked from sunrise to sunset with one break. When I walked over; it
was obvious she was suffering from heat stroke and dehydration."
"She's a hard worker."
Ioannis snorted. "Hard worker. She doesn't say as much, but she's petrified of him. I can't imagine what would have happened if she hadn't finished the garden."
"Do you have any proof of this? Has Mrs. Fitzroy said anything?"
"Why would she? In her eyes there's nothing to do. She kept her head down, toed the line, and hoped for the best."
"Mr. Fitzroy was abusive, according to you."
"I can't offer any proof, as I'm sure you're aware."
"No, but you have a privileged view into the Fitzroy's life that others do not."
"What about his mistresses? The girl at the hotel."
"What about her?"
"What does she say about Fitzroy?"
"I can't say," Savva said flatly.
Ioannis looked furious and Savva had the grace to grimace. "I wouldn't be so quick to discount a jilted lover."
"Is she jilted?" Savva asked.
"She thought John would leave his wife and move her to the big house; she's told the whole town. Then months passed by and still John didn't divorce Davonna. I'm sure she wasn't thrilled with his decision."
"Is it motive for murder?" Savva asked, as he leant back in his seat and looked at the pale blue sky.
Ioannis frowned. "You'd have to ask her. Motive for one person may not be motive for another."
"True, but there's a point where everyone breaks."
"Again, that point isn't universal." Ioannis' voice was hard and a steely glint in his eye flashed at Savva.
"True."
"You'll want to look into her background."
"Who do you mean? Athena Carras?" Savva asked.
"Have you heard who her father is?"
"Enlighten me.”
"John's business partner, Anthony Goldstein."
"You don't say."
Savva looked ahead; but fumed inwardly. Booras was late again with pertinent information. A few well-placed threats about a move back to traffic might light a fire under his lazy sergeant.
"I'm sure you heard the rumors about dear old Anthony," Ioannis said with a wave of his hand.
"Again, enlighten me."
Ioannis leaned closer to Savva, his forearms rested on the tempered glass. "They say he was heavily invested in the hotel and with the current climate it isn't as profitable as it once was. There's the even quieter rumor that Anthony is involved with the mafía."
"The Greek mafía?"
"Don't look so shocked, Captain, every country has one."
"Do you have evidence to substantiate this?"
"No, but they wouldn't be rumors if I did."
A silence fell between the two men, and the minutes stretched out between them like a taunt rubber band. Savva tried to reason out Ioannis' anger, his righteous indignation, but it eluded him. He instead contented himself with looking around the grand garden.
Ideas rumbled through Savva's head like the ever-rotating door at the station. On the terrace of this house, in front of an intelligent man, he was worried about pushing Ioannis too far and rousing his suspicions beyond a point they couldn't be tapped down. He waited, listening to the sound of Ioannis' breath and pondered his next questions.
"You suspect her," Ioannis whispered.
"Suspect who?" Savva said airily. Although he knew he sounded pedantic.
"Davonna. You believe she did something."
"There's much to prove before anyone makes claims as to suspicions."
"You sound like a politician, Captain Savva. Any aims that direction?"
A vein in Savva's neck thumped and he turned red. "That's neither here nor there, although I'll do you the courtesy and tell you no."
Ioannis nodded, mollified. Savva stood, brushing his trousers flat.
"I'll take my leave, Mr. Dukas, thank you for inviting me into your beautiful home."
Savva walked to the front door, listening to the sound of Ioannis' quiet footsteps behind him. At the door, Ioannis held it open, and cleared his throat.
"She did nothing. She's a wonderful woman in a difficult position. Davonna doesn't have it in her to be a murderer."
"She is fortunate to have you as a friend, Mr. Dukas."
"You had better be damn sure of your facts before you act, Captain Savva."
Savva stepped onto the gravel but turned and drawled, "I always am."
Davonna had barely pulled herself off the floor when the doorbell rang again. She looked witheringly at the grandfather clock and the state of her silk blouse and contemplated ignoring yet another unwelcome interruption when a voice rang through the thick wood.
"Davonna, it's me, are you there?"
Ioannis' voice echoed in her mind like a tonic. She managed to walk to the door without toppling over.
"Hello," she said wearily as she motioned him inside.
"What’s wrong?" Ioannis asked. He placed a thick hand on her shoulder and she tried to straighten her back.
"I'm tired, that's all."
Ioannis didn't seem to take her at her word and ushered her to the kitchen. "How about tea. I hear it's catching in England."
Davonna chuckled. "My mother used to say it was the cure for everything."
"Used to? Did she find something better?"
Davonna stared at his back as he bent over the sink to fill the kettle. "She died after we moved here. Both of my parents did."
"I am so sorry; how thoughtless of me."
"That's ok."
The kitchen fell silent as Ioannis stood by the black kettle, waiting for it to boil. Davonna rose and took out her best china, the white cups decorated with thin lines of gold, bands of pale blue, and small wreaths of dainty, green leaves. She bought them on a whim, and regretted the expensive purchase later. But soon she found that they brought her an immense amount of joy. She set them on the table now, and Ioannis poured the steaming water into the teapot.
They waited, the tea far too hot to drink, in companionable silence. Davonna stared out the window at the towering shrubs beyond and thought of home, where rain was plentiful, almost too much so, and the sun didn't beat down with such unrelenting ferocity.
"I hope you don't mind that I came over unannounced," Ioannis said, as soon as the tea cooled enough to drink.
"I don't," she said, taking a sip. The tea slid down her throat and filled her body with warmth. It kept the shadows at bay and she could imagine days that weren't infused with fear.
"Captain Savva came. I walked over as soon as he left."
"He was just here, too."
"You've got to be careful. John's death wasn't an accident, and he'll be looking for any excuse to bag easy prey."
"You mean he suspects me of murdering my husband."
"He didn't say it in so many words."
"I can't say I'm surprised."
"What do you mean?"
"Athena—his mistress from the hotel. She's spoken to him, and whatever it was; he's intrigued by it. I was alone at the house for the last week before he died. No one comes to our home. His car was tampered with and it shot off the road. We don't lock the garage, but I was here the whole time. I know what he's asking—between the niceties and the concerned façade."
"The whole situation is ridiculous."
"Do you think I killed him?"
"No. Now, don't get upset, but I believe Savva has more than you think he has."
"More what?" She froze with her teacup halfway between the saucer and her mouth.
"Savva asked me about you and John, about what I had witnessed as a neighbor. I believe he got the idea from others, but he suspects your marriage wasn't happy."
"What you mean, Ioannis?"
"There's no reason to protect him anymore."
"I'm not protecting anyone," Davonna snapped. Her cheeks flushed a brilliant red. She gripped the arms of her chair, her knuckles turned white.
"It won't fool him. He'll figure out what John was like."
/> Davonna heaved a breath and with tremendous effort lugged a smile onto her face. "John and I were happy. The way we lived … it worked for us. It's not for others to comment on the state of our marriage."
"That's not what I meant. I am your friend and I am on your side. But, Davonna, think about it. He knows you spent the last week working yourself to exhaustion to complete the work in the garden. He asked me point blank what I had seen, and I had to tell him."
"I'm a hard worker. I couldn't let the garden get into the state it was. It had nothing to do with John."
Ioannis stared at her and shook his head. Davonna leaned forward to grasp his arm. She had a faint memory of her mother holding her when she cried and she needed security. But he didn't flinch or pull away. Rather, he seemed to melt as he placed his fingers gently over hers.
"Please, don't let him win," Ioannis whispered, his eyes on the floor.
"Savva?"
"John."
The name hung in the air between them, like a knife suspended on a thin string, waiting to fall. Davonna tried to marshal her thoughts, to come back with a clever rebuttal, but in her heart she knew Ioannis understood who and what John was. He understood on a level she didn't. The observer. The watchful friend.
But if she kept up appearances, she wouldn't have to process the terrible memories. If she didn't have to process, perhaps they didn’t happen at all. "John's dead. It's Savva we have to worry about."
"For now."
Davonna ached at the resignation and the pain in his tone. She pulled her hand back, but longed to ask him to hold her like a father might. It would be joyous to find oneself back in the arms of a capable, strong, safe man.
Davonna stood and held out her hand. "It was good of you to come."
Ioannis rose, and though he smiled, his pain and resignation was obvious. "I'll see you soon. Let me know if I can help."
He left, and the room went frigid. Davonna's stomach flopped as though she had missed a step along the way, as though the land on which she was standing wasn't stable. She stared out after Ioannis' retreating figure long after he turned at the gate and disappeared from sight.
Savva pulled into the police department parking lot and smacked the steering wheel. The conversations with Ioannis, Thanos, and the bakers rankled. They'd all said much the same. On the surface, Davonna Fitzroy didn't seem like the type. There was motive, because whatever she said, he didn't trust that her marriage to Fitzroy had been as rosy as the picture she painted. Then there was the car: kept in the garage at the house or in its designated spot at the hotel. The damage could only have occurred at one … or both of those two places.
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