Claudia's Big Break (26 page)

‘Jack, I'm so glad you're finally here,' I said, standing up and walking over to him, relieved that he'd come for me at last. It didn't matter that he'd brought a Greek mama with him. What mattered was that this whole ugly mess would finally be sorted. ‘I've been waiting for you.'

Jack motioned towards the woman. ‘This is Nina. She's with the Greek police.'

‘
Kalimera
,' Nina said in a flat voice, her features pinched.

‘Claudia, please take a seat,' Jack continued, staring through me.

Okay, not quite the response I'd been hoping for, but maybe Jack was being formal because we weren't alone. Protocol and all. I was actually surprised at how reasonable I was being, given that I'd been forcibly removed from my holiday apartment and thrown in a tiny drab holding cell without any explanation.

When he motioned for me to sit back down in the chair, I hesitated. ‘What's all this about, Jack? It's a mistake. You know that, don't you?'

Jack had a tape recorder in his hand, which he laid on the table. Positioning himself in the chair opposite me, he said, ‘Please sit back down in the chair while we conduct the official interview.'

‘What interview? You're scaring me.'

‘As I said, I'll be asking you questions and taping your answers.'

I stared at the ancient tape recorder. You'd think he'd be using something a little more sophisticated. I shook my head. I needed to phone the Australian Consulate. They were always helping troubled travellers out of tight spots in foreign countries.

‘Aren't I supposed to have a lawyer present?' I'd watched enough cop shows to know that much. And Jack, I'd concluded, was definitely a copper. Although he wasn't wearing a uniform and hadn't shown me any official identification.

‘You can. Do you want one?'

I wanted to slap him. Instead, I quietly answered, ‘Yes, thank you.' But where the hell was I going to find a lawyer in Santorini . . . one that understood me and could get me out of this ridiculous mess? ‘And I'll need to see some official identification from you as well,' I said wearily.

Jack nodded to Nina and she walked outside. Jack and I were alone. It was the perfect time to confront him and make him explain to me what was going on. But I couldn't face him. I just stared at the miserable manacles gripping my chafed red wrists.

‘We can get those off for you if you like,' Jack offered.

‘I presume you mean the cuffs?'

Jack rolled his eyes in a
for fuck's sake
way and walked around the table to where I was sitting. From the wad of keys in his pocket, he picked out a small silver one. I held my hands out towards him.

‘There you go,' he said as the unfastened cuffs slid from my hands. Turning away from him, I massaged my wrists.

Nina returned with Angie.

‘Angie!' I stood up and hugged her. I'd totally forgotten she was a lawyer. I selfishly hoped she was a good one. No. A great one. There was no point having an average lawyer defending me when I was being held prisoner in a foreign country.
A prisoner.
I'd been in a few tangles in my time, but I'd never been arrested. ‘Thank God you're here.'

‘You okay?' Angie asked.

I nodded and turned to Jack. ‘If I hadn't have asked for a lawyer, you would have just left Angie standing outside?'

Angie smiled. ‘Tara called me as soon as you left the apartment. I would have found you, sweetie.' Angie was an angel, an angel who, if I was not mistaken, sounded rather regal and kind, not dissimilar to the late Princess Diana. How could I ever have imagined she sounded like Hyacinth Bucket? I had every confidence Angie would get me out of this mess. She sat down beside me on a third grey chair Nina had wheeled in.

‘Enough pleasantries for the time being,' Jack said. ‘Let's get on with it. Ready?' Jack's tone was not pleasant. It was not unpleasant. It was official.

He pushed the ‘record' button on the tape recorder.

‘Interview with Claudia Taylor. Time,' he paused to check his watch, ‘12.52 pm.' Jack looked across at me. ‘Please state your name for the record.'

‘But you just said it!' I glared at him. His eyes were cold and his manner was hard and remote.

‘Just say it, Claudia,' Angie coaxed.

I blinked. ‘Claudia Marie Taylor.'

‘Is this you?' Jack opened my passport and pointed at the hideous headshot on the inside front cover.

‘Yes.'

Jack placed the passport back in his folder and withdrew another photograph. ‘Are you acquainted with Marcus Cassoli of Cassoli Imports, Brunswick Street, Fortitude Valley, Brisbane?' Jack asked, holding up a picture of Marcus climbing out of his Porsche.

‘Yes.'

‘Could you speak up, please?' Jack pushed his tape recorder further to my side of the table and laid the photo of Marcus beside it.

‘Yes,' I repeated.

‘And you are employed by his company as an office manager?'

‘That's right.'

‘And you're in his employment now?'

‘Yes, Jack. I've already told you that.' I could tell he didn't like my tone but too bad.

‘Let's stick with the question-answer format, shall we?' Jack said with an intimidating stare.

Angie looked at him and then at me. I was on the verge of tears again. ‘It will be okay, Claudia. We'll sort this out.'

‘How long have you known Con Kafentsis?' Jack asked, showing me another photo, this time of Con.

‘I met him for the first time five days ago, I think.'

‘You think?'

‘No, um, one day before my birthday so . . . six days ago.'

‘But you have spoken to him a number of times over the phone?'

‘Maybe once or twice.'

‘Well?'

‘Well what?'

‘What was it?' Jack demanded. ‘Once or twice?'

I was shaking. I had no idea how often I'd spoken to Con. My mind was blank. ‘I can't remember.'

I figured my arrest had something to do with Con and probably what I'd seen in Athens. Poor Marcus. He'd be distraught. But what did Jack have to do with it? Where did he fit into all of this? I burst into tears. I couldn't remember a thing.

‘Interview suspended at,' Jack looked at his watch, ‘1.03 pm.' He pressed pause on the tape recorder.

Angie held my hand and let me cry on her shoulder while she patted my back. ‘Can you at least tell us what Claudia's being charged with?' she said to Jack.

‘Nothing . . . yet. Right now I'm trying to place her movements and establish her relationship with Mr Kafentsis.'

‘I told you,' I said, sobbing, ‘I don't have a relationship with Con Kafentsis!'

I wiped my eyes with a red bandanna Angie had given me. I was tired, hungry, had furry teeth, dirty knotty hair and desperately needed to use the bathroom. In short, I was a mess.

‘I need to use the bathroom.'

‘Okay, we'll have a five-minute break.' Jack motioned to Nina.

‘You don't —' I began tearing up again. ‘You don't expect me to use that, do you?' I pointed to the earthenware pot on the floor.

Jack almost smiled. ‘That's for cigarette butts. Nina will take you to the bathroom down the hall.'

I felt like a complete idiot. Although in the scheme of things, mistaking an ashtray for a wee pot was nothing compared to being jailed for the term of my natural life for crimes I hadn't committed. As I was being led out the door by Nina, Angie handed me a small cosmetics bag, for which I was eternally grateful. At least I could brush my teeth and comb my hair.

Thankful for being allowed inside the toilet cubicle alone, I sat on the seat and tried to clear my head. It didn't feel real. As much as I struggled to make sense of the last couple of hours, my mind kept wandering. I thought about obscure things like rats, wee pots, and mouldy sandwiches. This place made my skin crawl. Scratching myself, I began imagining what it would be like to have cockroaches crawl all over me, into my ears, up my nose . . .

‘
Parakalo?
You finish?' came Nina's voice from above the stall door. ‘We go now.'

I flushed the toilet, walked out and glanced at myself in the mirror. I really should have spent the time fixing myself instead of hunched on a toilet seat, contemplating my fate at the hands of marauding insects. I washed my face, cleaned my teeth and ran a comb through my hair. I examined my eyes. No amount of eye makeup was going to help them this morning. There was no disguising that they were puffy and bloodshot.

‘Feeling better?' Angie asked when I walked back inside the tiny grey room.

‘Wretched.'

Jack hadn't moved. He was still sitting opposite my chair, his tape recorder at the ready. I hated him.

What had I ever done to him? Why did he want to single-handedly destroy my life? I loathed him. I wanted him to die a slow and painful death. And I wanted to watch.

But before my wish could be granted, I needed to work my way out of this hideous situation. So I had to concentrate. There would be no more tears. No more shouting. I would do my best to answer Jack's dreary little questions and then get the hell out of here.

23

T
he Jackass — yes, I had resorted to name calling — released the ‘pause' button on his silly little tape recorder.

‘Interview resumed at 1.15 pm. Claudia, how long have you known Con Kafentsis?'

I was ready. I was composed. ‘I met him briefly for the first time six days ago. I spoke to him over the phone once, the day before that.' Forthright and in control.

‘That's it?'

‘Yes.'

‘There were no other times you spoke to Mr Kafentsis or saw him?'

I thought for a moment. ‘Well, today, obviously. And then a couple of days ago, I thought I saw him in the crowd.'

Jack let out a deep sigh. ‘Take me through it from the beginning, Claudia. Why were you so desperate to meet with Mr Kafentsis?'

‘I wasn't desperate. Marcus was.'

‘As in Marcus Cassoli, your boss?'

‘Yes. He wanted me to give an envelope to Con, which contained a flash drive and papers for him to sign.'

Jack tilted his head to the side. ‘Why?'

‘Because he's a new investor in Marcus's company. Apparently his company makes the best oils and organic wine in Greece.'

He corrected his head. ‘Why were you the go-between?'

‘Because I was here in Greece on holidays, I guess.'

‘You guess?' Again, with the questioning whine and annoying tilt of his swollen head. ‘That's very convenient, isn't it?'

‘Not really. Marcus paid me to come over here as part of my job.'

‘And exactly how big was the bonus Marcus paid you?'

‘Nothing, I mean —'

‘Cut the lying, Claudia. How much money was Marcus paying you to hand over the flash drive?'

I shook my head. ‘Nothing.' The words caught in my throat as I remembered the money Marcus had deposited into my savings account.

Jack rocked back on his chair and considered my words for a moment.

My hands were clammy. Perspiration was trickling down my cleavage. I had an uneasy feeling about the money.

‘Isn't it true, Claudia, that you accepted this little jaunt because you wanted a new challenge to make up for your boring, average life?'

‘I beg your pardon?' I said, willing his chair to topple over. ‘Where did you get that stupid idea?'

‘Your boring childhood? You told me yourself — you wanted more excitement, more thrill in your life.'

‘I never said
thrill
.' The Jackass was making me angry. ‘And, if you recall, I was referring to a time when I was a teenager. I also liked
Footloose
and dreamt about becoming Mrs Kevin Bacon. I've grown up somewhat since then,' I said through clenched teeth.

‘Come on, Claudia, do you really expect me to believe you came all this way to give some papers to a complete stranger? As a favour to your boss?' Jack glared at me, no doubt hoping to make me cry again.

He referred to his notebook, cleared his throat and read from the pages in front of him. ‘Did you or did you not say that your life was, quote, “incredibly normal. Sometimes I find myself asking, ‘Is this it?' and I feel like doing something crazy to inject a bit of excitement into my life.” Well?'

‘My God! You were recording our conversation during our lunch? A lunch where we were drinking wine, getting to know each other?'

‘Claudia,' he said, dismissing my outrage, ‘we know about your dire financial state. You need the money to pay off a twenty-five thousand dollar bank debt. Isn't that correct? And didn't twenty thousand dollars appear in your bank account two days ago, courtesy of Mr Cassoli?'

Angie gasped. ‘I don't think —'

Jack put his hand up to silence her. ‘I overheard a conversation between you and Mr Cassoli where you specifically —'

‘Okay, yes,' I started. ‘Marcus said he'd help pay off my bank debts if I passed the flash drive on to Con.'

‘No!' Angie shouted as she reached across the table and put her hand out to stop me from saying anything more.

I looked at her, stunned. ‘Angie, you've got it all wrong. There wasn't anything untoward going on, I promise. Con is a huge olive oil man. He also makes balsamic vinegars. Marcus is really excited —'

Angie glared at me. ‘I think you've said enough, Claudia.'

‘But I haven't done anything.'

‘Can't you see your boss was bribing you?' Angie said.

‘No, you don't understand. Marcus would never do anything like that.'

‘Let's backtrack a moment,' said Jack. ‘You say that Marcus is innocent and that the money wasn't a bribe. How can you be so sure?'

‘It was a gift.'

Jack laughed. ‘Come on. Bribe, gift, bonus — no boss gives his employee money like that unless —' Anticipating what Jack was about to say, I jumped in and admitted my nasty little secret. ‘Marcus and I were having an affair.'