The Beth Papadakis Thriller Box Set
Page 18
We decide what to eat, then sit outside on the terrace. A few minutes later the waiter brings us a bottle of house red and a basket of sliced crunchy Greek bread. After a few minutes, he returns with a tray full of food. Kolokithea keftedes (courgette fritters) for me and paidakia (lamb chops) for Elias and Helen. A huge plate of sizzling hot chips and a large bowl of Greek salad are placed in the centre of the table for us to share.
Red candles glow in empty brandy bottles on round tables covered with pristine white tablecloths. Greek music plays softly in the background, we begin to relax. Elias munches away on his lamb chop whilst gathering chips with his fork. I can’t help but smile, Greeks always seem to enjoy their food, no matter what. I wonder if he has a wife and kids at home, for some reason I don’t think so, but he doesn’t look the bachelor type.
‘Are you married?’ I ask, hoping he won’t mind me asking.
He glances over and smiles slightly. ‘I was, but now I'm divorced, I live alone, in an apartment just off Vassilias Constantinos.’
Grabbing a serviette, I wipe my mouth quickly. ‘But that’s near to where I used to live on the corner of Messoghion.’
Elias looks surprised. ‘How long did you live there?’
‘While I was married, then I left and went back to the UK.’
Helen suddenly looks up. ‘When I first came to Athens, we used to go to the Hilton Hotel and have drinks on the roof-top terrace, do you remember, Beth?’
‘Yes, it has fantastic views of the Acropolis.’ I sit deep in thought. Alex and I did have some good times at the beginning.
While we’re chatting, Elias moves his chair slightly away from us and answers his phone.
The waiter suddenly appears with a tray containing three Greek coffees and three glasses of brandy, compliments of the house.
I look over at Elias. He seems to know the waiter well. He probably comes here a lot. I wonder how long he’s been divorced. It’s strange, but we all seem to be in the same boat, two of us are divorced, and Helen’s desperately trying to get one. This brief respite from the horror of the past few hours puts us all in a reflective mood.
We walk silently back to the hotel. Elias drives home, Helen books in for another night, then we go upstairs to our rooms.
‘Have you heard from Theo?’ I ask, wondering if he’s contacted her again.
She’s laying on her bed, still fully dressed. ‘No, and I don’t want to, he's probably at home, screwing someone on my bed.’
She turns over, closes her eyes, and a few seconds later she’s asleep.
10
BETH & HELEN
Athens, Plaka Hotel
Breakfast time
Helen arrives late for breakfast looking pale, I’m on my second cup of coffee. She goes over to the bar, gets a coffee then sits next to me. She didn’t mention her visit to the lawyer last night, probably because Elias was there.
‘How did it go with the lawyer yesterday?’
She shrugs.
‘Does he think you'll win?’
She nods. ‘Yes, he said I’m sure to win’. The thought of it seems to brighten her up. ‘He said I have a very strong case, he's in the process of arranging a date for the hearing.’
‘Great! What about Dev, did you see him?’
‘Yes, he’s going to help.’
‘So, when are we meeting him?’
She laughs. ‘You really are keen, aren’t you? I thought the café in Syntagma Square would be a good place to meet, there are lots of tables outside so it will be easier to talk without being overheard, it’s the one in front of the Hotel Grande Bretagne.’
I nod. ‘Sounds good, what time will he be there?’
‘Around 11ish, is that okay?’
I glance at my phone. ‘I need some photos of the parliament building for my article for work, so if I leave now I can take them and be at the café by 11.00, do you want to come with me?’
‘No, I’ve a few calls to make, I’ll see you there.’
I start walking to the elevator.
‘Shall we let Elias know we’re meeting Dev?’ Helen shouts.
‘No, it's Sunday, let him have a lay-in.’
I head over to Syntagma Square to the Parliament building, I’ll get a few shots of the Evzones changing guard outside parliament, then I’ll make my way to the café to meet Dev.
When I arrive, the place is packed with tourists waiting for the official changing of the guard, it happens every Sunday at 11.00am. I haven’t had anything to eat yet so if I go straight to the café, I can have a quick bite to eat before Dev arrives, I can take photos of this another time.
The café terrace is practically empty, just a couple having breakfast. I go inside and order, then sit outside watching the comings and goings of people in the square. Then it suddenly hits me - I have no idea what Dev looks like.
The waitress arrives with my croissant and black coffee. Five minutes later I’ve finished my coffee and I’m brushing crumbs off my face. I have five minutes before Dev arrives so close my eyes and sit enjoying the warmth of the sun on my face. I can hardly believe it, so much better than the rain and cold in London. I stretch out my legs and listen to the sound of the traffic, it’s strangely soothing to feel so relaxed amongst so much activity.
‘Beth?’
‘Yes?’
I quickly sit up, there’s a slim dark-haired man, with piercing blue eyes smiling at me. ‘Sorry, I was miles away,’ I mumble. ‘You must be Dev?’
He nods and looks at my empty cup on the table. ‘Would you like something - another pastry, a coffee?’
I can see him eyeing the crumbs on my black top and smile. ‘I think I've had enough.’
He smiles, sits in the chair opposite me and calls the waitress over.
‘An espresso and…’
He looks at me.
I shake my head. ‘No, thanks.’
‘You have a good Greek accent but you’re English, aren't you?’ I say, watching as he takes out a packet of cigarettes.
He offers me one – I shake my head.
‘Yes, I've been living in Athens on and off for a couple of years, what about you?’
‘I live in London, I'm half Greek - my father’s Greek, my mother’s English. My Greek’s a bit rusty, but I survive.’ Now this could be interesting, I wonder why he's in Greece and what his story is. For some reason he doesn't look married, maybe he changed careers? He looks young but could easily be in his 40s. He’s good looking in a serious sort of way. Suddenly I realize he’s watching me and look away.
The waitress arrives with his coffee, then Helen arrives looking pale and tired.
‘Coffee?’ Dev asks, giving her a worried look.
She nods and looks at the waitress. ‘Yes, an espresso please.’ She sighs and looks from Dev to me. ‘We can’t find James's wife. Kostas has been trying to help but it’s useless, she’s not at the delicatessen, so we'll have to go to their house in Faliron.’
I can tell Helen’s about to burst into tears. ‘Don’t worry, have your coffee then we’ll all go looking for her.’
‘What’s wrong with that woman,’ Helen mutters. ‘We need to know when the funeral will be.’
Dev quickly drinks his coffee. ‘I'll go to the delicatessen; you stay here with Beth. I'm surprised Isabelle hasn't contacted me; I was expecting a call from her this morning.’ He looks at us sadly. ‘We all want to be there for James, he’s been a good friend to me, we were very close.’
He suddenly looks very angry and I sense a sort of toughness I hadn't noticed before.
Helen looks at me. ‘What do you think, Beth?’
I shrug. ‘Well, we must sort this out or it'll be too late.’ I bite my lip, wishing I hadn’t said that.
Helen’s lower lip trembles, then her phone rings, it’s Kostas.
‘He’s on his way,’ she says, putting her phone in her pocket. ‘He’ll be outside the Grand Bretagne Hotel in a few minutes, he's driving an old black Ford.’
T
he waitress arrives with Helen's coffee. Dev pays the bill, then looks at me.
‘Give me your phone number, Beth, I might need it.’
After keying my number into his phone, he walks quickly out of the square, and across the road to where Kostas is waiting.
Helen sits watching them drive away. ‘I hope his wife is there, otherwise it’s a twenty-minute drive to Faliron, and it’s getting late.’ She sits biting her lip then pulls out a packet of cigarettes and lights one. We stay like this waiting for news.
After an hour we return to the hotel, Helen goes straight onto the balcony I go to the loo.
Two seconds later, my phone rings.
‘Answer it Helen, I’m just washing my hands, it’s next to my bed.’
I rush out of the bathroom.
‘It’s Dev,’ she mumbles, handing me my phone. ‘They can’t find her.’
‘What’s happening, Dev?’ I ask, taking the phone.
‘The delicatessen’s closed and she's not at their place in Faliron.’
‘So, what are you going to do?’
‘I'm not sure, I’ll try and find out where she is, I’ll call as soon as I know something.’
I can tell by his voice he’s worried, he knows how close Helen and James were.
‘Okay, call me as soon as you can.’
Helen’s sitting on her bed staring into space, a strange look on her face.
‘Let’s go onto the balcony, Helen, and get some fresh air.’
She doesn’t budge, just sits staring out of the window.
I go outside and sit watching the passing traffic.
Where the hell is Isabelle? She can’t have left the country.
Then it comes to me.
‘Helen,’ I shout, running back into the room. ‘The hospital, we must phone the hospital, they’ll know.’
A few seconds later the ward nurse answers.
‘This is Beth Papadakis, I was there yesterday, with my friends Helen and Elias. Our friend James - James Baldwin, he passed away early yesterday morning, can you tell me when the funeral is?’
After a brief silence she answers. ‘Dev Salter just called. He asked me the same question. He said he’s a friend of James, and Elias Demetriades.’
‘And what did you tell him?’ I ask, holding my breath.
‘Mrs Baldwin arranged for her husband’s body to be taken from the hospital this morning for burial near the coast where they live. I thought you knew?’
‘No, nobody contacted us.’
The phone slips from my hand.
Helen’s shaking her head, a look of horror on her face.
I call Dev, after a few rings he answers. ‘Dev, I just called the hospital, do you know where the funeral is? Do we have time to get there?’
There’s a short silence and I know we’re too late.
‘I found the cemetery.’ His voice sounds husky, I can hardly hear him. ‘I'm next to James's grave, nobody’s here. The cemetery workers told me it happened very early this morning.’
Tears well up in my eyes, Helen starts crying.
‘Where are you?’
‘I'll give you the address.’ He hesitates for a second, then adds. ‘Bring some flowers, I'll be waiting for you outside the gates of the cemetery with Kostas.’
I key the address into my phone, then we go in search of the nearest florist. Helen buys a large bunch of dark red roses, then we jump into a cab.
Twenty minutes later, we’re outside the cemetery gates, Dev and Kostas are waiting for us.
With tears streaming down our faces, we make our way to where James lays. We all write our names and messages on a card the florist gave us, then tie it to the flowers.
Helen silently lays the flowers on the grave. There’s no headstone, just a wooden cross with James written on it in Greek. This is common practice - the headstone will come later.
Kostas drops Dev outside the Grand Bretagne Hotel.
‘I'll call you later,’ Dev says, slamming the car door behind him. His lips are pressed tightly together, his eyes no longer blue, but a steely gray colour.
I watch him walk into the hotel, there’s a hard lump in my chest which won’t go away.
Kostas drops us off outside our hotel and promises to keep in touch.
As soon as we reach our rooms, Helen goes straight onto the balcony; she lights a cigarette and sits staring into space.
‘My flight’s tomorrow Helen, I wish I could stay longer, come back with me for a few days?’
She inhales deeply. ‘No, I’ve a lot to do.’ A cold calm seems to have taken hold of her. She blows out the smoke and looks over at me. ‘I’m going to get her for this.’
11
BETH
Athens Airport
Back to London
It’s nearly 11.00 am in the morning, my flight leaves at 11.30, I’ll have to go through soon.
I’m worried about Helen. She’s been very quiet since yesterday, I said I would stay, but she wouldn’t hear of it, she said I had to get back to work.
I get up and give her a last hug. ‘I'll call you as soon as I land in London, and for God’s sake be careful, promise me you won't go out on your own, and remember to call Dev or Elias, if you must go out.’
I hesitate for a second. ‘Sorry Helen, I sound just like Nick.’ I bite my lip, even saying his name makes me shiver. I often wonder if the police have caught him. It happened last year when I left Athens and went back to Oxford, I still have nightmares about it. They said he was last seen in Malaga boarding a ferry, but for all I know he could be here in Athens.
‘Don't worry about me Beth, and stop thinking about Nick.’ She looks at me intently, then gives me a hug. ‘He’s in Spain somewhere, or Morocco.’ Then as an afterthought she adds. ‘Have you heard from that detective who was on the case?’
I shake my head.
‘When you get to London say hello to your Mum and Jamie for me, and cheer up, I’ll be in London soon.’
I nod. ‘I hate leaving you here alone, especially after…’
‘I’m okay Beth, I’ll be careful, I know what to do.’
She looks tense, there are deep shadows under her eyes. She’s supposed to have quit smoking, but she’s puffing away like a chimney now.
‘But I’m worried Helen, maybe I should stay a few days more.’
‘Get on the plane, Beth, you have a job and a son to look after.’
I head towards customs then stop. She said, ‘I know what to do.’ What’s she going to do? I have a sudden sense of foreboding and turn around and start walking back to her.
She frowns and motions with her hand for me to get on the plane. I give her a final wave. She turns and hurries out of the airport, she seems in such a hurry, I wonder where she’s off to?
I go through customs, locate my flight on the overhead board, go over to the gate and stand in the queue. I know the last few days have been traumatic, but what the heck did Helen mean when she said I know what to do?
With one last look at Athens I board the plane for the four hour flight to London.
As soon as the plane lands, I call Helen. No reply, it goes to voicemail.
With a sense of unease, I walk through customs, then out of the building. The icy cold rain lashes down on my face and a cold blast hits me, the days of sitting in the sun are now just a distant memory.
Wrapping my coat tightly around me, I cross the road then take the escalator down to the Piccadilly line for the train to Earls Court. From there I’ll take the Circle Line to Bayswater station.
A sudden rumbling sound breaks into my thoughts, the doors of the Tube slide open.
For the next 30 minutes I try calling Helen, but it keeps going to voicemail.
At last the train comes screeching to a halt at Bayswater station, I’m nearly home.
The rain-soaked pavements glisten as I leave the station, it’s 4.10 in the afternoon and already dark, the streetlights are on and everyone’s rushing around trying to keep warm.
My apartment feels cold and empty, there’s no Jamie to welcome me as usual, he’s staying at Mum’s. I flick the lights on, turn on the TV to wake the place up, then go into to kitchen.
For the past few months it's been just me and my son Jamie, he’s staying with Mum in Oxford for a few days. I’ll give them a call in a minute, let them know I’m back, but first I must have something to eat.
I switch on the small TV in the kitchen and put on the news channel, I don’t really want to hear about the doom and gloom of the latest crisis, but I’m used to having it on in the background. Now what will it be - a cheese sandwich? I’m searching in the fridge for some cheese when my phone rings, it’s in my bag in the living room.
As soon as I get there it stops, it’s an Athens number. I don’t recognize it so call it back - number engaged. I try calling Elias’s number but that goes to voicemail also.
With a sense of unease, I return to the kitchen, make my sandwich and take it into the living room.
After a while, the pitter-patter of rain against the window makes me feel sleepy. I didn’t sleep much last night. I curl up on the sofa, cover myself with a throw and close my eyes.
A few minutes later my phone rings, it’s an Athens number, it’s the same number that called previously.
‘Is that Beth Papadakis?’
‘Yes, who is this?’
‘Dr Diamakis, I need to talk to you, it’s urgent.’ There’s a short pause, then he carries on. ‘There has been an accident, we found your name and telephone number in her bag.’
I freeze. ‘Whose bag?’
‘Helen Panikos.’
‘Hello, are you still there? Mrs Papadakis?’
‘Yes,’ I gasp, trying to keep my voice steady. I had a feeling something terrible was going to happen, but not this.