Murder On Display: A riveting, stand-alone murder / mystery that keeps you guessing until the shocking end (Greek Island Mysteries Book 4) Read online

  ‘… so it’s one of you two that needs to go…’ the chief was saying, as she invaded the normally off-limits-if-not-invited office of the man-in-charge. His military background was salient in the way he ran things.

  The eyes of the two captains widened and Ioli could swear that even their shaven, broad jaws lowered. Only Alexandro smiled at her; his innocent, goofy grin coming to life across his unlined face.

  ‘Sorry, boss,’ she rushed to say. ‘I did not realize you had company. I have the report on the Petraki case…’

  ‘No, you saw your partner being pulled in here with two captains and realized I was about to team him up with one of them because you are pregnant.’

  Ioli could not resist smiling. Beaming, she replied ‘Rookie is off my hands?’

  ‘No, he is still your new partner. There has been a murder on Folegandros and I am sending either Andrea or Gianni to accompany Alexandro…’

  ‘Wait. A murder on an island is my case. Captain Papacosta and I are in charge of any homicides on the islands…’

  Now, their jaws definitely dropped. Rumors circled that once, back in the nineties, someone had interrupted the chief, but it was more of an urban legend around the department.

  ‘Well, you’re carrying and Costa is on medical leave till further notice. I am not sending a six-month pregnant girl to Folegandros in this freaking July heat wave. Besides, everything indicates this to be an open-and-shut case. The local authorities have already arrested the murderer. I am just sending a team to help with evidence and processing so nothing goes wrong in court. It will be a good experience for Alexandro and it would do him well to pick up some pointers from a veteran captain.’

  Ioli stood silently for a moment, apparently processing everything she had just heard. ‘According to the constitution of our department and the categorization of homicide cases according to geographical location, all murder cases from the islands are mine and Costa’s jurisdiction. This case belongs to me and I am not on maternity leave, yet. I have a substitute partner and we will take the case. As you said, it’s an open-and-shut case. No need to waste precious veteran time. I am sure there are more complicated cases for these experienced captains to lead. As you said, it is just evidence collection. Besides, the fresh sea air would do wonders for my baby boy.’

  She felt like panting, yet fought it and managed to remain cool. Her eyes stayed locked on those of the chief’s as she witnessed his expression softening. As much as the expression of his steel face could.

  ‘It’s a boy?’ he remarked and a toothless, semi-smile appeared. ‘Wonderful. Now, Cara, come on. Wouldn’t you rather relax? You are entitled to leave.’

  ‘I’d rather do myself and Costa justice in continuing our job.’

  The chief raised his hands up and exhaled deeply. He swung his chair around and gazed out the wide window. Without turning back round, he calmly asked the two captains to leave. ‘Take the case file, Cara. Everything you need to know is in there. Get Mary to call and set up the police ferry. Get to Folegandros, ASAP. I don’t need island amateurs ruining evidence and filling up tons of useless forms and testimonials.’

  Ioli’s smile broadened upon her face, raising her high cheekbones. She picked up the brown envelope from the thick wooden desk and before the chief had any time to regret his decision, she hastily exited the cold room.

  Alexandros turned to follow.

  ‘And kid?’ the chief’s deep voice stopped him on the spot.

  ‘Yes, sir?’

  ‘Take care of her or it will be the last case you’ll ever see. The filing department is always in need of a new pair of hands.’

  Chapter 3

  Valentina’s green eyes stayed focused on the florescent light on the aging air-conditioning unit hanging from the ‘begging for a fresh hand of paint’ blue wall, opposite her untidy, worn-in desk. She stared at it for a good whole minute; she gazed in disbelief at the low temperature the screen promised. Inside, the lone police department of Folegandros felt like Dante’s lowest level of Hell. Maybe, the menacing heat wave was not to blame. Maybe, it was her nerves. She had made her first arrest just hours ago. Her eyes moved across the room and traveled to the single holding room. Adonis had cried and sobbed since she locked him up. Now, total silence. She figured that the teen had finally fallen asleep for siesta. Valentina never got much sleep. She usually slept on the department’s filthy bunk bed and tossed and turned while dreaming of escaping the small island. Looking across at the time on her computer screen, she thought of the morning she had had. The tremendous sight of the headless body on display, the moment the villagers recognized the victim to be one of their own by the girl’s arm tattoo, and the taunting scene that replayed inside her mind; Natalie’s mother Electra running to the town square. Electra dropped to her knees and screamed uncontrollably; animal-like sounds came out of her as she kicked and cursed, curled up on the ground. Even her son froze and did not dare approach her. Thinking back, the girl’s brother remained rather cool, Valentina thought. She stood up and approached her prized possession, her silver, high-speed frappe maker. She threw two full spoons of coffee into the turquoise plastic cup and roughly the same amount of sugar. It was going to be a long day. Police officers and the coroner were coming from the mainland. She wanted to prove herself sufficient and professional. Maybe get promoted and transferred to another station, one with a bigger task force. Loneliness was her permanent roommate; Valentina spent eight-hour shifts inside of the station all alone. Just her and the creepy, fat spiders that lived in the corners, high above her head. At least, they ate invading mosquitoes and stayed up there, in their well-crafted webs.

  She unlocked the top drawer of her desk and looked down at the bloody knife; the large, sharp-bladed knife with the obsidian handle and the name ADONIS carved into it. She had found the murder weapon next to the crumbling wall of the abandoned house that had had the disgraceful honor of displaying the dead body. She had found it as she manically wrapped the police yellow tape around the building.

  She threw a couple of perfectly-shaped ice cubes in her sweet-smelling cup, prayed for strength and sipped the much-needed beverage. Euphoria traveled through her. ‘Greeks and their passion for coffee,’ her Dutch ex-boyfriend used to say whenever witnessing her ritual of making and devouring coffee. She remembered Andriaan fondly. His tall, muscular build, his thick, carefree blond hair, his heavenly laughter, her place on his long list of lovers. For her it was her first real love; for him she was a summer fling. It took her two Adele albums and a significant amount of vodka to get over him.

  Valentina sat back down in her high-backed office chair, gathered her platinum blond hair to her right shoulder and let her mind drift back to morning memories. Comedy and tragedy; both born in Greece, both always living side by side. She had walked up to Adoni’s two-story house where he lived only with his grandmother. Quite comically the entire village followed her. Valentina stood outside the blue wooden chipped door, one hand on her firearm, the other ready to knock. The door flew open before she reached it and startled her. If not for such a tragic crime, she was sure the crowd behind her would have laughed.

  The cries of his grandmother and the begging on her knees would remain forever engraved in her memory. The seventy-two-year old lady with the white hair and the burgundy apron, yelled at her that she was making a terrible mistake. ‘My boy is innocent. My sweet child could not have done such a horrific crime. Adoni tell them,’ she screamed and shrieked. Tears flowed down her furrowed, thin face; her fists clenched tightly as she hit the floor and begged the Holy Mary to help her. Adonis, on the other hand, remained expressionless, lost in his confused mind. Valentina wondered if the boy even knew or comprehended what was going on.

  ‘You are being arrested, Adoni,’ she had said into the boy’s ear, yet received no reply. Adoni did not utter a single word as he passed among his fellow islanders that watched in shock; some even in disgust. No one spoke. Angry crowd mentality was imminent and Valentina
hurried to take the youth into custody, safely away from the people gathering outside. Only behind closed doors did Adonis break down and cry. He sobbed all morning until Morpheas offered the sweet escape of sleep.

  As Valentina contemplated earlier events, the police ferry bounced upon the ever-moving, dark blue Aegean sea and undulating waves crashed perpetually into the high-speed boat.

  ‘I wanted to become a coroner, I said. Thought it would be perfect for a lazy ass like me. And, oh, the peace and quiet. No patients of mine would ever complain,’ Jacob Peta, the jovial, rotund coroner chatted away, while consuming a feta and bacon sandwich. ‘No where cooler than a morgue, I thought,’ his rant continued. ‘But no, I had to become a police medical examiner and get dragged around from island to island under the scorching sun!’

  ‘How can you eat on the boat?’ Alexandro asked, his eyes drowsy and heavy, his mouth hardly opening out of fear of losing this morning’s breakfast of a ‘berries and egg’ smoothie. Alexandro sat curled up on a green wooden bench that was screwed to the ferry’s wall, just outside the ship’s small bridge. He watched and listened to the coroner, fascinated by his bubbly personality.

  Jacob stopped his monologue and his Greek pacing up and down, and turned in Alexandro’s direction. He bit down on his third breakfast for the day and laughed. ‘When you sign your life away and finally get married, kid, and your wife makes you go on a diet of rabbit food, you will have your answer.’ He, then spun back around to look at newlywed Ioli, hoping to catch a glimpse of her trademark ‘Julia Robert’ smile. Ever since I -her partner and his good friend-left the force due to my cancer treatment, he had not heard her laugh like she used to.

  Ioli had her back towards them. Her head lay upon her arms, stretched out on the metal railing. She gazed down on the rhythmic percussion of the short-lived waves and her eyes followed them running up to die upon the sandy shore. Her eyes strayed only when the ferry approached Karavostasi, Folegandro’s only port, and the mountainous island came into sight. The 20-meter vessel slowed down as it entered the turquoise hued waters of the natural bay and its dozens of fishing boats seemingly flying as the waters were utterly clear; enabling you to see every fish, crab and rock from above. The long concrete pier ran into the ocean, the only thing steady in the picturesque scene; it played like a high-definition movie before Ioli’s eyes. Ioli stood up, her right hand firmly on the railing, the other on her growing tummy. The ferry bumped against the car tires that hung along the cold, grey side of the dock and came to a stand-still. Alexandro hopped off the side and exhaled in relief as his feet hit solid ground. Jacob chuckled at the young man as he ripped open a bag of shrimp-flavored chips.

  ‘My dietician does allow sea-food,’ he joked, witnessing Ioli’s rather disapproving look. He carefully climbed down the boat’s hot-from-the-sun, aluminium steps and having reached his concrete destination, turned and extended his hand to Ioli.

  ‘I’m pregnant, not disabled,’ she said, as she lowered herself down with ease.

  ‘And, then you modern women grumble about ‘where have all the good men gone?’!’

  Ioli finally smiled and tenderly placed her hand upon his shoulder. ‘I see our ride is here,’ she said, her eyes travelling down the lengthy pier all the way to the young officer with the shiny boots, the well-ironed uniform and the Ray Ban shades.

  Ioli walked ahead as the two men followed. Alexandro enjoying the serenity and the beauty of the surroundings and Jacob enjoying the last crumbs of Elysium taste that lay on his fingertips.

  Ioli introduced herself and extended her hand, while trying not to get annoyed by the officer’s not-so-subtle stare at her belly. Alexandro rushed to introduce himself with a wide smile as he had just noticed the ideal-for-a-short-guy, blonde with the curvy figure. Jacob waved from afar and approached the parked vehicle.

  Jacob squeezed his overweight body into the front seat of the dusty Mazda 3 with the brand-new police stickers on its side. Valentina opened the back door for Ioli, waited for Alexandro to sit next to her and then jumped into the driver’s seat. With the turning of the key, the engine came to life and the party of four were on their way to the crime scene. The car passed small, whitewashed houses, many of which had been converted to tavernas, souvenir shops and kiosks. The tourist wave that swept the neighboring islands of Santorini, Naxos and Paros, had gradually reached the shores of Folegandros. It, also passed by the indiscreet stares of locals who had heard of the terrible crime that was committed in their central town. Ioli gazed out at grandmothers doing the sign of the cross, first on their bodies, then towards the car, blessing them.

  ‘Jesus’ fan club is strong here on the islands,’ Jacob quipped and chuckled at his own jest.

  ‘If I was Jesus, I would spend most of my time on the Greek islands. No where prettier,’ Alexandro commented and secretly searched for a reaction from Valentina. A slight smile was all he needed.

  Soon, the village of eighty inhabitants was left behind; a miniature town in the rear-view mirror. Fields of lonely olive trees and overgrown weeds surrounded them on both sides; fields that ran all the way up to the blue-water horizon that embraced them.

  Ioli felt her cell phone vibrations in her jean’s right pocket. It was a message from Mark, her husband. Just then, she began to concentrate on the ongoing conversation in the car. The two men were discussing tomorrow’s big football game with Valentina. Ioli never understood girls who liked football. She had long classified football as a sport tailored to satisfy men’s premature and brutal nature. She always smiled as she watched Mark curse the TV, uttering profanities she would only use if she burnt dinner or found her favorite restaurant closed. Food was the only sport she found worth worrying about. Ioli replied to Mark, apologizing for not texting –as she had promised-that she had arrived well. Then, she rolled her eyes at the juvenile remarks made about each other’s team and interrupted them.

  ‘Do you have your case file with you, officer?’

  ‘Yes, ma’am,’ Valentina replied, switching from her friendly tone to a more professional one, and leaned over to Jacob’s side, opening the glove compartment. She lifted out a big, brown envelope. Not that such a size was needed; she had only taken three pictures and her notes resided on a single piece of plain A4 paper.

  ‘Give the pictures of the body to the coroner and pass me all your notes.’

  ‘Damn,’ the coroner said, and waved the first photo to the back of the car. Ioli studied the photo that reinforced her opinion of people being the true monsters in this world.

  ‘Poor girl. No one deserves to die like that. I guess it must be a shock for your small community. Was she well-liked around the island?’ Alexandro asked.

  ‘You could say that,’ Valentina replied, her eyes focused straight ahead.

  Ioli glanced out from her notes, looking for a facial expression on the young policewoman with the enigmatic answer.

  ‘These are just notes of what happened. Where are your statements?’ Ioli asked.

  ‘Statements?’

  ‘You did ask around to find witnesses, right?’

  Valentina’s face began a journey from Greek-white skin to rosy cheeks. ‘Well, I found the murder weapon and…’

  ‘You didn’t ask around?’

  ‘Well, I spoke with her brother and he said she was at her best friend’s house. I have called the friend in later today, so you can speak with her and that way we will have a timeline.’ She exhaled quietly. ‘I am by myself here, I couldn’t leave the station and Adonis alone with a vexed mob outside. I taped off the scene and covered the body…’

  Seeing the beaming look on her face as she stated her accomplishments, Ioli could tell that she was supposed to be pleased.

  ‘The body is still there?’ Jacob asked, his eyes opening wide.

  ‘Where would I take her? And who would I get to help me get her down? It would contaminate the scene. I thought, it would be best for you to collect evidence.’

  Ioli said no more. A sin
gle thought ran freely through her brain. It was going to be a long day.

  ‘Did you dust for fingerprints?’ Alexandro asked.

  ‘Of course! Now, listen here. I know my job. I might not have much experience, but I do know how to collect fingerprints. I scanned both the fingerprints of Adonis and the ones of the murder weapon and emailed them to the lab in Athens. Results should be back by now.’

  Alexandro gently smiled. ‘I did not intend to insult you. I am, also, new to homicide cases.’

  The next five minutes of the fifteen minute route were made in silence. All you could hear were happy crickets singing in unison, scattered across the Centurian olive trees.

  Ioli, having visited the majority of the Greek isles, was not easily impressed by views and beaches. Now, the town of Chora left her in awe.

  White boxes with blue doors and railings gathered into a group and filled the hilltop all the way to the edge of the 200-meter cliff. Snakelike, rock-paved roads ran amongst them, yet it was the winding dirt road journeying uphill out of the postcard-perfect town and leading to the impressive church of the Holy Mary that caught Ioli’s eye. An aura of freedom surrounded the entire landscape. All against a background of a turquoise sky and the deep blue sea. Ioli rolled down her car window. She had guessed right. The air was pure, clean and carried the freshness of the sea along with it.

  There were no grassy areas to be seen. The strong winds and the lack of rain allowed only the most stubborn olive trees and bright green-leaved lemon trees to grow. In the town, the scenery switched to a plethora of flowers and deciduous shrubs. Flower pots were dotted along the pavements and hung from houses’ walls.

  Valentina parked rather abruptly in what seemed like the middle of the road.