The Beth Papadakis Thriller Box Set

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The Beth Papadakis Thriller Box Set Page 14

by Cara Alexander


  ‘So what are you saying?’

  ‘Well, from what we've discovered, he's been doing this for years. We've also contacted Interpol…’

  ‘So you think the Major had something to do with this?’

  He doesn’t reply.

  ‘But next time they might kill me!’

  ‘Beth, the Major's a very dangerous man with many friends in high places who still haven't been caught, I thought you should know, you must be vigilant, don’t go out alone.’

  ‘But you must do something!’ I snap.

  What do other people do in my situation? In films they get a new identity, live in a different country, but I can’t do that, where would I get the money from for starters. A cold rush of anger sweeps over me. I’m not going to let them terrorise me like this.

  ‘Look, I know this is hard,’ he says, in a worried sounding voice. ‘But believe me, we are dealing with it. We have the best criminal minds working on this case. The net's tightening, people are squealing, they’re hoping to get a shorter sentence. As I said before, many influential heads are going to fall, but until that happens, we must look after you and your family.’

  I sit listening not really taking in what he’s saying. All I want is to find whoever did this to me, I want to…

  ‘Beth are you listening?’

  I grunt, ‘Yes.’

  ‘Now listen, very carefully, this is what you must do. I've taken the liberty of arranging flights for you and they leave tomorrow. ‘

  ‘What!’

  ‘Yes, this is serious Beth, we’re getting you out of here for a while. Your mother knows, she’s going with you and of course Jamie. She’s packed a few things, the police collected them. She'll take the train as usual in the morning to Oxford, Jamie’s going with her. She's told him not to say anything, it's a surprise - you're all going to Athens for a short holiday.’

  I can’t believe what I’m hearing.

  ‘I’ll come to your place, all very normal. We'll get you out the back way. Helen knows about it; you'll be staying with her.’

  ‘I don’t have much choice, do I?’

  'It’s the best we could do at such short notice, Beth.’

  NEXT DAY

  Mum and Jamie are on their way to Oxford. Mum tells me not to worry, the police will be following them to make sure nothing goes wrong. They’ll go to her place, have lunch, then take a cab to Heathrow airport.

  A couple of hours later DCI Thomas arrives at my apartment. I make sure everything’s locked up then take the back way out of the block where a car is waiting to drive me to Heathrow airport.

  It doesn’t take long, the roads are unusually clear, there’s not much traffic.

  Twenty five minutes later and I’m at Heathrow airport. Mum and Jamie are having drinks in a private waiting room. Of course Jamie’s over the moon and finds it all very exciting - he thinks Mum arranged it.

  The plane takes off at 5.10 pm, so 7.00 in the evening Athens time.

  We settle down for the flight to Athens. I haven’t eaten all day, I’ve lost my appetite. All I want is for this to be over, for things to be normal again.

  I look over at Jamie, tucking into his sandwich and vow to get whoever did this to us.

  It's late when we arrive. DCI Thomas arranged for us to be taken through customs and led out through a special exit, just to be on the safe side.

  Helen’s there to meet us.

  ‘Beth!’

  She comes running over to us, hugs me, then Jamie and Mum. ‘How lovely to see you all.’

  Then she looks at Jamie, his eyes are huge with excitement, he can’t get over the intrigue of it all. She gives him a hug then grabs his hand. ‘Come with me, the car’s parked right outside, so we don’t have far to walk.’

  She drives us back to her place, a police car follows. DCI Thomas said this is just a precaution they have to take.

  34

  ATHENS

  Helen’s House

  7.30 am

  We’ve been here for two days, the weather is lovely, still a healthy 25 degrees, and so far we're safe.

  DCI Thomas calls me daily, still no news about Nick, but there's lots of news from London about my case. People are being arrested, including many in high places - but the person who raped me is still on the loose.

  Jamie's school is under the impression one of his close Greek relatives is getting married, what else could I tell them. Fortunately the head was nice about it.

  It’s just gone 7.30 in the morning. Mum and Jamie are still in bed, Helen's gone to work, she starts early, most people in Athens do during the long hot summer months.

  I take my coffee onto the balcony so I can enjoy the fresh morning air. My phone suddenly rings, it's DCI Thomas.

  ‘Good morning Beth, how are things in Athens?’

  He’s up early, he sounds happier than usual; I hear the rustle of papers, then he's back on the phone.

  ‘I'm going to tell you something highly confidential, it’s about an arrest the police have made regarding your case.’

  My heart skips a beat, will this nightmare soon be over?

  ‘The Major paid someone to... to do this to you.’ He pauses for a few seconds, then carries on. ‘He used to work for him, at the farm.’

  I’m holding the phone very tightly.

  They've caught him, they’ve actually caught him!

  I open my mouth to say something but the words don’t come out.

  ‘Did you hear me, Beth?’

  ‘Yes,’ I mutter. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Of course. As I said before, people are squealing, it always happens. They're either looking for a way out, nobody wants to go to prison, or they've got revenge on their mind. This boy, or rather man, he's twenty-eight, he's been spending a lot of money, which is unusual for him as he doesn't have much. He's been drinking and boasting about his latest conquest, describing what he did in graphic detail.’

  I feel sick. I start taking deep breaths.

  He carries on talking.

  ‘We got a tip from his girlfriend. It seems a friend of hers heard him bragging about it in the pub, so she goes and calls her friend, of course she’s furious and calls the police.’

  As I listen to him, I keep thinking I'm having a bad dream and that it will soon stop, but it doesn't.

  ‘Are you still there, Beth?’

  ‘Yes,’ I croak.

  ‘Shall I carry on?’ he asks, in a worried voice. ‘You know we can do this later.’

  ‘No, tell me, I want to know.’

  ‘Well, the following evening we had one of our undercover men in this pub, we had it all set up and it worked. The guy was drinking heavily and blabbing as usual about his conquest. His girlfriend came in. She was furious, she had a go at him, he laughed in her face, he said...’

  Suddenly he stops talking.

  ‘Beth, are you alright? I know this must be a shock, but we've got him, you can come home.’

  I don't know whether to laugh or cry, it's just so awful, it's like it happened to someone else, but he's talking about me, it happened to me.

  35

  BETH

  London

  I’m working hard to catch up with work, Mum hasn't been to Oxford for a long time, I think she’s had enough and is looking for somewhere to live in Greece.

  I'm on my way to the café in the park. A few tourists and mothers with kids are sitting outside, but not so many as the last time I was here with Helen.

  She popped over to see me the other weekend, which was nice. She still wants me to come back to Athens, but for now I'm staying here.

  Jamie's settling into school which is a relief for both of us. He likes living in London and has lots of friends.

  I still don't know where Nick is, DCI Thomas told me not to worry, the Spanish police think he boarded a ship in Malaga. They say he might have gone to Algeria or Morocco, but could still be in Spain, they’ll update him if they find out where his is.

  I take the coffee I just b
ought to one of the wooden benches and sit thinking of Nick. If he’s in Spain, why do I get the feeling I’m being followed? I often think I’m going a little bit crazy, and what with all that’s happened, I probably am, it’s just that...

  When I go shopping, or when I’m walking around Queensway late at night, I often get a whiff of Nick’s cologne. I told Helen, she said it’s my mind playing tricks on me and that lots of many men use this cologne. It’s just that when I get a whiff of it, I automatically think of him.

  I know what she means, but I still have the feeling I’m being followed.

  36

  He stares ahead at the woman slowly crossing the road, laden with heavy shopping. Autumnal leaves coat the black, shiny street still wet from the rain. She's going to slip, he thinks, any minute now. She crosses the street unscathed and he scratches his head.

  He looks in his rear-view mirror, checking to see if anyone else is wandering around a residential street at close to midnight. He shuffles around in his seat to get more comfortable and takes off his seatbelt. Physically drained, he rubs his eyes and sighs. He sees the light has been switched on at number 8. He watches as the woman dumps the heavy shopping on the counter. She disappears away from view for a while.

  Ten minutes later she returns to the kitchen, switches on the kettle and takes a couple of mugs out of the cupboard. A younger woman joins her in the kitchen. They're chatting and laughing about something.

  He cracks his knuckles and looks in the rear-view mirror again. It's such a quiet street that he's now very aware of the sound of his watch ticking. He looks up and sees that the younger woman is alone in the kitchen. He concentrates on her as she spoons coffee into the mugs. He can hear a boy call her from another room, she quickly scoops up the mugs and leaves the kitchen.

  The lights go off. It's rather late for the boy to still be up, and on a school night too. Soon the bedroom light will be switched on and around an hour later it will be turned off. He knows her routine now. He also knows when she's alone.

  Author Note: If you’ve enjoyed reading FOLLOWED please leave a review as it helps other readers find my books. Thank you.

  Prologue

  Athens, Greece

  4 February

  Late that evening - 10.15pm

  ‘We need to meet, all I want is a few minutes of your time.’

  James has no idea who this man is or why he’s calling him and he’s getting pissed off. ‘You won’t tell me your name,’ James snaps, angrily. ‘So why should I bother?’

  ‘It’s urgent,’ the rasping Greek voice hisses. ‘It’s a matter of life and death. You can stop someone from being killed, you must come!’ He lowers his voice, ‘Do you know Fanis Bar, in Glyfada? It’s just off the main highway, the one with the terrace outside? I'll be there at 10.30, be there.’

  James starts to say something but the guy’s hung up. He stands staring angrily at his phone. Is the guy mad or just winding me up? Gulping down the rest of the coffee he’d just bought from the cafe across the square, he crumples the now empty polystyrene cup into a ball and tosses it into a nearby bin.

  He crosses the road into a small side street where his car is parked. All he wants is to go home, have a beer and put his feet up, but he can’t. He’s arranged to meet Helen, she said it was urgent so he can’t let her down.

  He clicks his key fob, the car springs into action, then his phone rings - number withheld. James stares at his phone.

  Is it that crazy Greek again?

  ‘Yes,’ James, snaps.

  ‘I want you to understand how important this is, it is of international concern, this man’s life is in danger, we must do something to stop it.’

  Oh my God, the guy just doesn’t give up. But for some strange reason he has a gut feeling about this, it could be the scoop of a lifetime. He might be wrong, but what if the guy is telling the truth?

  ‘Okay, but it'd better be good, what do you look like?’

  The man sighs with relief. ‘I’m wearing a brown velvet jacket and a striped scarf.’

  ‘I’ll be there in about fifteen minutes,’ James mutters. He slides into his car, switches on the air con, then calls Helen to say he’ll be a little late. She sounds irritated but agrees to wait for him, she knows if he has a bee in his bonnet about a story there’s no stopping him.

  Ten minutes later he’s out of the centre of Athens heading towards the upmarket beachside resort of Glyfada. As usual Posseidonas Avenue is busy, it’s the main coastal road leading to other popular beachside resorts and it also leads to Cape Sounion and the ruins of the Temple of Poseidon.

  The neon lights of the restaurants and hotels shed a rainbow of colours over the highway reminding him of when he worked in London. Sadly clandestine meetings like this seem to be a thing of the past, he smiles to himself, that’s probably why he agreed to see the guy.

  Putting his foot down hard on the accelerator he urges his old car to go faster. Before moving to Athens he’d worked as a journalist but when his friend Beth invited him to her wedding in Athens, his whole life changed. Within a matter of weeks, he’d handed in his notice, packed up his stuff in London, moved to Athens, and started a part time job at a local college teaching English. Thanks to an uncle’s inheritance, he now owns a small delicatessen in Athens, and works part time as a journalist.

  He starts to slow down; he doesn’t want to miss the turning, it’s around here somewhere. Drivers honk their horns in frustration as he edges the car over to the inside lane.

  On leaving the highway he turns left into a tree lined street leading to Fanis Bar. Out of the corner of his eye he can see the guy, it must be him, he’s the only one on the terrace. He’s sitting with his legs crossed on an old rickety looking chair, nonchalantly smoking a cigarette.

  James sits for a few seconds watching him. The guy’s probably in his 40s or 50s, with longish brown hair and a thin moustache. There’s a small glass of something in front of him which he picks up and slowly drinks. He puts the glass down on the table then draws deeply on his cigarette. He does this a few times, then looks around, probably wondering where James is.

  Without bothering to lock the car door, James walks quickly up the couple of steps to the open bar terrace.

  The man sees him, waves his hand and beckons him over. His dark eyes rest on James’s face for a second, then he looks away. ‘What will you drink?’ he asks, flicking the ash off of his cigarette into the ashtray.

  James pulls out another rickety looking chair opposite the Greek. ‘A beer, thanks.’

  The waiter leans against the open bar door smoking a cigarette, watching them. The Greek glances over to him and points to James.

  ‘Mia bira parakalo.’

  The waiter nods, takes another drag of his cigarette, flicks it into the night air and saunters inside the bar.

  James leans back in his chair and studies the man opposite him. The Greek returns his gaze.

  ‘So, what do you want to tell me?’ James asks.

  The Greek leans forward, slightly. ‘I have some news that will shock you.’ He stops for a minute, glances around at the nearby tables, then as if satisfied, carries on talking. ‘You must not tell anyone what I’m about to tell you, if you do, your life and mine will be in danger.’

  James nods.

  ‘I can’t tell you everything tonight. We will meet in a few days, in another place, and then I will tell you more. We must be careful, you understand?’

  James raises an eyebrow, it all sounds a bit dramatic but hey, this is the land where Greek drama flourished in the late sixth century BC. He sits watching the Greek trying to fathom him out. The guy looks like an actor or he could be a teacher.

  The man sits holding his gaze, his dark eyes defiant.

  Suddenly James smiles. ‘Don't worry, you can trust me.’

  The man draws hard on his cigarette, blows a circle of smoke into the night air and leans closer to James. ‘I have this on very good authority, they intend to kidnap the Prime Minis
ter and kill him.’ He looks at James intently, as if waiting for a reaction. James says nothing, so the Greek carries on. ‘At the moment he’s popular with some Greeks, but many want him out of the way.’

  James sits looking at him wondering if the guy’s for real, or just some crazy academic who's finally cracked. He could well understand this happening, they say the economy is recovering but many Greeks are still suffering. Thousands have left the country and those that remain are either very rich or struggling to make ends meet.

  He sits watching the man opposite him with interest, just like many Greeks he smokes too much and always seems to be thinking. James shifts in his chair and scratches his head. If it’s true what he says then he needs to know more, much more. Maybe his friend Dev is the person the man should be speaking to? This is his line of work; he has the necessary contacts.

  James frowns. ‘I’ll have to discuss this with one of my colleagues, he has experience in this sort of thing. I also need to know who is behind this, when it’s going to happen and where?’

  The Greek’s eyes narrow. ‘How do I know I can trust your friend? What is his name?’

  James looks at him in surprise. Does the guy really expect him to tell him?

  ‘If he agrees to help then I’ll tell you his name, but don’t worry, he’s one of the best.’ As an afterthought he adds. ‘You haven’t told me your name?’

  The man’s silent then waves his hand in the air dismissively, the way Greeks do. ‘My name doesn’t matter,’ he says, lighting another cigarette, his eyes never leaving James’s face.

  James leans back in his chair and looks at him. ‘Why all the secrecy, who are you?’

  ‘As I said, my name doesn’t matter, I prefer it this way.’

 

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