Then she holds me at arm’s length and gives me a knowing look. ‘How was the journey? I noticed you came by cab, still worried about the cable car?’
I make a face.
Helen laughs. ‘Come on, let’s get something to eat.’
As soon as we enter the restaurant a waiter hurries over to meet us.
‘A table for two by the window, if you have one,’ Helen says, grabbing my arm.
He nods. ‘Follow me.’
He leads us to a table with a view overlooking Athens. I order a salade niçoises, without the fish, and wait for Helen to order.
‘Helen,’ I murmur, giving her a nudge. ‘Do you want to order?’
‘Oh, sorry, I’ll have the same as you, Beth.’
I can’t believe it. Helen isn’t vegetarian, she loves fish.
‘Are you sure? You want the salade niçoises, without fish?’
‘Yes, that’s fine.’
‘Okay, two salade niçoises, without fish, some olive bread and a bottle of sparkling water.’
The waiter nods and leaves. I break off a piece of crusty looking roll from a basket on the table and look closely at Helen, she looks worried and pale.
‘So how was the meeting, with the French guys?’
‘Oh, it went well, in fact it was good, I may be going to Nice to finalize things next month, they want me to meet their other partner.’
‘That’s fantastic! We should celebrate, I’ll order some champagne?’
‘No, not now, we can celebrate tonight.’
She sits flicking through her phone then stares out of the window a worried look on her face.
I lean forward and grab her hand. ‘What’s wrong, Helen?’
She takes a deep breath, then looks at me. ‘It’s James, we arranged to meet last night, then he called and said he had to meet someone about a story. He didn’t say much, just that he was going to a bar in Glyfada.’
She stops and frowns. ‘He said he’d be a little late, but he didn’t turn up. I tried calling him, but it just went to voicemail. I just called his home number and his wife answered.’ She hesitates for a second, then asks. ‘Did you know he's married?’
I shake my head. ‘No, I didn’t know. What did his wife say?’
‘She didn’t know where he was.’
‘Try not to worry Helen, maybe he met someone, had a little too much to drink, booked into a hotel...’
Just then the waiter arrives with our food, fills our glasses with sparkling water and leaves us to it.
Helen doesn’t touch her food but I’m hungry, the salad is delicious, the olive bread divine. After a bit of encouragement on my part, she eats a little then stops.
‘You know, the economic crisis has had a devastating effect on many people in Athens. James’s delicatessen hasn't been doing well but my travel agency still makes a profit.’
‘That’s great, shame about James though.’
‘He has a share in the business, don’t you remember? I borrowed some money from him when things were tough. I think his wife’s jealous. She wants him to sell his share.’
‘But doesn’t she know you're married? Surely she knows you've been friends since you were children?’
‘Yes, of course she does.’ She sits nervously twisting a serviette. ‘I’ve tried being nice to her, but she’s always so nasty.’
I top up our glasses with sparkling water and hand Helen hers. ‘Here, drink this and don’t worry so much. Maybe his wife knows who he was meeting, did you ask her?’
‘When I asked if she knew where he was, she just said no and put the phone down.’ She gives me a sad look. ‘James said things aren’t so good at home, they rarely speak, it’s a bit like me and Theo.’
Now I am surprised. ‘What’s happened with you and Theo?’
She shrugs and looks away.
She obviously doesn’t want to talk about it now, so I ask her about James. ‘Have you any idea which bar he would go to?’
‘I don't know, all he said was that it was a bar near the beach.’ She fidgets with her serviette and frowns. ‘You know what James is like, if he was going to be late, he'd phone, he wouldn’t leave me waiting like that, especially late at night.’
I’ve finished eating, Helen’s hardly touched hers. I can tell she’s worried so suggest we go back to Athens; we can talk about it on the way down. We pay the bill then walk over to the teleferique.
The cable car arrives, we pile in with the others, I hold my breath, I don’t look out of the window. Helen says nothing, just stares ahead, miles away. It doesn’t take long, it’s much quicker than driving.
Seven minutes later we’re down, we take the waiting bus to Syntagma Square. Helen sits looking out of the window, I check my phone.
‘You can't imagine how awful it’s been, Beth,’ she suddenly blurts out.
‘What do you mean?’ I ask, watching her closely. ‘Work or Theo?’
She laughs. ‘I wish it was work. It’s Theo, he picks on the slightest thing I do to make me feel bad, he even said I should go to night school, to improve my Greek.’
‘But your Greek is good. He's the one who needs lessons.’ I could say more but stop.
She nods and shrugs. ‘It got so bad I didn’t want to go home, I threw myself into my business, it's the only place I feel I’m in control.’
Now I know why she works so hard. Poor Helen, I wish she’d told me.
She sits fidgeting with her phone, then looks at me. ‘He's not the same Beth, he's changed so much, I hardly recognize him.’
Now you're seeing the real man you married, I want to say, but don’t. I always had a bad feeling this would happen. Even though Greece is in financial meltdown, her husband still makes a lot of money from his nightclub. The tourists keep coming and there are always wealthy Greeks with money to spend.
‘But why don’t you leave him?’
She looks at me in surprise. ‘It’s not as easy as that, you should know, Beth.’
She’s right, I’m the last person to give advice. When I discovered how many years my ex had lied to me about money and other things I asked for a divorce. I still don’t know if he was involved in that terrible case in Athens, I also never found out if he was having an affair, but deep down I know he’s guilty of both.
She looks at me for a long minute, then shrugs. ‘I can’t believe that this is happening to me, Beth. One day I found a ring in my bed, another time I received a phone call from a girl saying my husband loves her and that I should move out, let them be together. She said he’s going to divorce me and marry her.’
I can hardly believe what I’m hearing, this isn’t the Helen I know, why is she still living with him? I lean forward so nobody can hear me. ‘Why do you take it? Kick him out!’
Helen bites her lip. ‘He’s lied so much, and I’m so stupid I believed him. He said the ring was probably mine and that I'd forgotten I had it.’
I’m amazed but not surprised. ‘Why didn't you phone me or come to London? You know you can always stay with me.’
‘I didn't want to worry you. James is here, I used to talk to him about it.’
‘What did he suggest you do?’
‘He gave me the number of a friend he knows from London, he said he might be able to help, he studied law but I’m not sure what he does now.’
‘So, did you contact him?’
‘Yes, he’s having Theo followed to find out what he’s up to. This morning he showed me some photos and a video.’
I raise my eyebrows. ‘Were they of Theo?’
She nods, for the first time I see hatred in her eyes. ‘Yes, he was with various women, he was having sex with them.’ She sits staring into space. ‘I have no idea how he got them, but he did…’
She turns and looks at me. ‘I’m getting a divorce, Beth.’
‘Good, I’m going back to London in a few days you can stay with me and sort yourself out.’
‘I can't, I've arranged to see a lawyer about the divorce and now I'
m worried about James.’
Now I’m also getting worried, I know someone needs to be missing for a certain amount of time before the police will investigate, but I’ve no idea how it works in Greece. ‘Okay, for now we must concentrate on James. Do you know any of his friends?’
‘Only Kostas, I met him a few times with James. He gave me a card for his shop in Monesteraki. I called him last night, but he doesn’t know where James is, he said he’d ask a few friends. I arranged to see him early this evening, do you want to come with me?’
‘Oh Helen, I can't, I promised I’d deliver a birthday present for a friend in London, it’s for her mother she lives near my hotel, it’s her birthday today. Why don’t you go and see Kostas, then we can meet up for dinner, I’m staying at the Plaka Hotel.’
The bus turns into Syntagma Square, then abruptly stops. Helen walks with me to my hotel then goes to meet Kostas.
5
HELEN & KOSTAS
Athens
5 February
As I draw near the small Byzantine church of Agios Eleftherios, I hesitate for a minute and stand staring at it. Inside is an icon which is said to perform miracles, I never thought about it much until today, I can’t resist and go inside.
After a few minutes I tear myself away from the tiny church and carry on walking down Ermou Street which as usual is a hive of activity. It leads to Monesteraki Square which as well as being a popular tourist hotspot is a hub for young people. They sit around playing guitars or just sit smoking and often break out into dance. The tourists seem to love the atmosphere, they also enjoy searching the shops for souvenirs to take home to their loved ones.
Kostas said his shop was located near the restored Turkish Mosque which is now a ceramics museum, he said that its opposite the metro. I search for a couple of minutes then suddenly I’m right outside his shop, the door is open, I knock and go inside.
From behind a curtain a Greek girl with short spiky purple hair suddenly appears. ‘Yes, can I help you?’ she asks.
‘Is Kostas here?’
She nods and a few minutes later Kostas appears from behind the curtain. As soon as he sees me, he rushes over to me. ‘Any news?’ he asks, frowning.
I shake my head. ‘I was hoping you had some.’
‘I’ve phoned everyone I can think of,’ he mutters. He stops and gives me a worried look. ‘He hasn’t been seen since yesterday afternoon.’
‘What about the delicatessen?’
He shakes his head.
‘Someone must have seen him,’ I snap, feeling the despair rising inside me.
He says nothing just looks worried.
‘Did you ask his wife?’
He runs his hands through his thick black hair. ‘I tried phoning her, but there’s no reply.’
‘It doesn’t make sense; someone must have seen him.’
‘But I’ve tried everywhere I can think of, I’m sorry.’
Whilst he’s talking, I scribble my number on a piece of paper and hand it to him. ‘If you find out anything, anything at all, please call me?’
He takes the paper and mumbles something. I nod and leave the shop feeling even more worried. I know they often have a drink together and if Kostas can’t find him, who can?
Maybe I should call the police, but what about his wife?
6
BETH
Athens, 5 February
Plaka Hotel
I’m nearing the hotel when my phone rings, it’s Helen.
‘Beth, I'm nearly at your hotel, where are you?’
‘I'm just going inside, come to the top floor, I’ll be on the terrace.’ As I go inside the receptionist beckons me over and hands me an envelope.
‘It’s a message for you.’
I’m surprised, not many people know I’m in Athens. I called work to let them know I’d arrived, and I’ve also spoken to Mum. I quickly scan the contents of the small envelope. It’s from my ex, he wants to see me, how strange, how does he know I’m here?
I take the lift to the terrace, there’s an empty table with a good view of Athens, I hurry over and sit down.
The waiter comes over. ‘A cold beer, please.’
He nods and returns to the bar.
There’s a newspaper laying on the table in front of me so I pick it up and glance at the headlines...
SHOOTING IN ATHENS BEACH BAR LATE THIS EVENING - ONE DEAD - ONE IN A COMA.
I sit staring at it for a few minutes. Didn’t Helen say James was meeting someone in Glyfada?
The waiter brings me my beer, I mutter my thanks whilst staring at the newspaper, it’s just a coincidence, it must be.
I’m still sitting staring at the newspaper when Helen arrives.
‘I just saw Kostas,’ she murmurs, sitting down and giving me a worried look. ‘He checked around and nobody’s seen James since yesterday afternoon. I’m getting worried Beth, maybe we should call the police?’
Then she notices the newspaper in front of me and sees the headline. A look of horror appears on her face. ‘James, it could be James.’
‘I know, that’s what I was thinking.’
She suddenly jumps up. ‘We must go to the hospital. We must see if it's James.’
I quickly scan the article again. ‘It doesn't mention the name of the hospital, is there one in Glyfada?’
Helen’s face is as white as a sheet. ‘I don't know,’ she mutters. ‘Will the police know?’
I’m pacing around the terrace, oblivious to the stares from nearby tables. I look at the newspaper again and groan. ‘We need to speak to the journalist who wrote it.’
A few minutes later I’m calling the newspaper and ask to speak to Elias Demetriades, the journalist who wrote the article. I’m told he’s not there, but I can leave a message. I say it's urgent, it’s about the shooting at the bar in Glyfada and that we think it might be our friend. I leave my name and phone number and we wait.
Ten minutes later my phone rings.
‘Hello, I have a message to call you.’
Helen comes close so she can hear what he’s saying.
‘Yes, that’s right,’ I reply. I hold my phone close to Helen. ‘It’s about the shooting in Glyfada last night.’
‘You think it might be your friend? Is this correct?’
Yes, we need to know the names of the people involved, or the address of the hospital.’
There’s a short pause, so I close my eyes, willing him to tell me.
‘You must understand, this is being handled by the police, I can’t give out any names.’
‘Yes, I understand but we need to know if it’s our friend. I'm staying at the Plaka Hotel, near Syntagma Square. The owner knows me, he can vouch for me. I'm a freelance journalist - I’m here to write an article on the political situation in Greece. My friend lives here, she's married to a Greek. Please can you tell me something?’
‘Where are you now?’ he asks.
‘We’re on the terrace of the Plaka Hotel.’
He hesitates for a few seconds. ‘Okay, I’ll be there in about ten or fifteen minutes.’
‘Signome (excuse me), are you Beth Papadakis?’
I nod and gesture for him to sit down.
He looks tired, he has black hair speckled with gray, he’s probably in his 40s or 50s and stockily built.
‘Yes, I'm Beth, this is my friend Helen, I have my passport…’
‘No, don’t worry,’ he says, shaking his head, ‘I saw the manager downstairs.’
He pulls out a chair and sits down, lights a cigarette, then quickly blows the smoke away from us. ‘I’m sorry, I forgot we can’t smoke here anymore.’ He stubs it out, then turns and looks at us.
‘You want to know if your friend is one of the men in the bar, don’t you?’
We look at him and nod.
‘Two men were involved, one Greek the other English.’
Helen gasps. We both sit very still and wait.
He looks at us with sad eyes. ‘The English man is on a
life support machine. What is the name of your friend?’
Helen looks at me, then at him. ‘James, his name is James, James Baldwin.’
He sits staring at us, then shakes his head. ‘Yes, it’s him.’
Helen bursts into tears.
He leans forward and gently murmurs. ‘He is also my friend, we worked together.’
Tears stream down Helen’s face as she looks at him. ‘I want to see him. Can you take us to him?’
‘Of course, my car is outside.’
We pile into his old blue Renault convertible which is parked outside the hotel, me in the front with him, Helen in the back. We drive along in silence passing brightly lit shop windows and graffiti covered buildings, a stark reminder of the present political situation in Athens. On the way Elias calls the hospital to let them know we’re coming.
After about twenty minutes we arrive at the hospital. It’s strangely quiet. Elias speaks to a nurse, then we’re led to a room, she opens the curtains surrounding the bed and we gasp.
James’s head is covered with bandages, half his face is visible, a small piece of his red hair is poking out from the bandage. His eyes are closed, he’s hooked up to a machine.
I stand transfixed, staring at him. Helen rushes over and holds his hand.
‘I must talk to the nurse,’ Elias says. ‘I’ll be back in a minute.’
After a few minutes Elias returns and beckons for us to follow him outside. ‘The next few hours are crucial for James,’ he murmurs as we walk to the waiting room. ‘The nurse said for us to wait outside, sit here and I’ll get some coffee.’
As soon as he’s gone Helen grabs my arm. ‘I’m not staying here; I’m going to see James.’
A few minutes later Elias returns with three coffees, he hands me one and places one on a chair for Helen. Dark shadows and lines are etched under his eyes, he looks exhausted.
‘Elias, you must be tired. Why don’t you go home?’
He doesn’t reply, just sits looking at his coffee.
‘Elias, it’s good of you to bring us here, but we can get a cab back to the hotel.’
The Beth Papadakis Thriller Box Set Page 16