One Way Ticket (20 page)

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Authors: Evie Evans

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery, #Cozy, #International Mystery & Crime

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25 Busted

 

 

At least the booking sergeant
recognised me when we were hauled in. It didn’t stop him booking me, but he
knew who I was.

“Rules are rules,” he explained, leading
me to the holding cell.

“Thanks a lot,” I said as he turned the
key, locking me in. It was a bijou place, all stained, bare walls and hard metal
bench. The police must have used the same designer as the monks at the
monastery.

Someone must have informed Addi because he
was there fifteen minutes later.

“What have you done now?” he said, peering
through the hatch in my cell door.

“I was trying to help. My sources came
through with an address on Paul Marshall.”

“Your sources? Your aunt, you mean.”

“Can we argue about this when we’re both standing
on the same side of the door?”

“I can’t believe you told her,” he said,
making no effort to open the door.

“Okay, I made a mistake.”

Addi looked at me.

“Again,” I admitted. “But if I hadn’t we
wouldn’t have found Paul Marshall so quickly.”

He blew out a puff of breath. “Someone’s
got to sign the sheet to get you released.”

“You can write, can’t you?”

“Not very well, you tell me.”

I looked at him leaning there. “You’re
enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Of course not.”

“It would be more convincing if you’d said
that without smiling. How long are you leaving me in here?”

“Just a moment.” Addi whipped his phone
out of his pocket and took my photo before I could turn away.

“Thank you very much.” I would have said
more but he produced a key then and unlocked the door. It was a relief to get
away from the cell’s aroma, a cunning mix of urine and bleach with just a hint of
vomit.

“It is really unpleasant in there.”

“I wouldn’t know.”

After going above and beyond the call of
duty trying to bring in Paul Marshall single-handedly, I felt I was due a
little appreciation. So far, it had not been forthcoming. “Have a good time
with the mayor?” I asked as we ascended the stairs to our department.

Addi’s foot faltered on a step. “I’ll
explain to him our suspect hadn’t tried to escape after all.”

“Will you?”

“Yes. I’ve already recalled the alert to
the local police stations. The chief won’t mind, it’s better to be too careful
in these things.”

I could tell by the way he said it he was
trying to convince himself. “Have you spoken to Paul Marshall yet?”

“No, I thought I’d better get you out
first. Let him steam for a while.”

“I think the word you’re looking for is
stew.” I glanced at my watch. “It’s not time to go home yet, I’ll hang on. Come
and let me know what happens.”

I made my way to the canteen for a much
longed for cup of tea, knowing what the outcome of the discussion would be
already. Paul had told me in the car we’d been looking at the footage of the
wrong supermarket.

 

Lo and behold, I hadn’t even
finished my cup of tea when I saw Addi and Georgios, one of the other
detectives, rush out the building. Forty minutes later they hurried back in. Instead
of waiting to find out the result, I decided to go to the canteen again and boil
the kettle for another cup of
tea. I was just swigging the last
mouthful when Addi stormed up to my desk.

“It’s a disaster,” he announced.

“It was the wrong supermarket.”

“Did he tell you?” Addi asked.

“Well, we had plenty of time in the back
of the police car. I take it you’ve looked at the CCTV footage of this other one?”

“Yes. He was there. He drove into the car
park at 2.27 and left at 3.46.” He sat heavily on the chair by my desk.

“That’s a long time. What was he doing?”

“It’s not just a supermarket, it’s a home
store as well. He was measuring up some new fencing.”

“That still gives some time at either
end, doesn’t it? His alibi doesn’t cover the whole time frame.”

Addi looked at me pityingly. “Do you know
the Gerosoni superstore?”

“No, can’t say I’ve been there.”

“That’s because it’s not in Kythios. It’s
way out on the road to …, you wouldn’t know it anyway.”

“And?” I prompted.

“The opposite direction from where Tina
Lloyd lived. She was seen leaving her local shop just before ten past two that
afternoon. Even if he killed her straight after that, he’d have less than 17
minutes to get to the superstore afterwards. He’d need a flying machine to make
it in that time. And it doesn’t work the other way either, there’s no way he
could have left the superstore at 3.46, driven to Tina’s, killed her, then driven
back across town and arrive at his own house by 4.10. One of his neighbours confirmed
she saw him pull in then.”

“He was definitely in the superstore the
whole time?”

“Yes, he was picked up by the cameras as
he walked round.”

“And the times on the cameras are
correct? Sometimes they can be a bit out.”

“No, they’re right, we checked.”

We sat in silence for a moment. “Another
dead end, then?”

Addi let out a big breath. “Yes.”

“I got arrested for nothing.”

He fished in his pocket. “Not entirely,”
he said, showing me my photo on his phone. I’d only been in the cell fifteen
minutes but I’d already gotten the wild-eyed, gaunt, panicked look about me. Or
maybe that’s how I always look.

“I think I’ll make this my, what’s it
called? Wallpaper?” Addi asked.

“Don’t let your mother see it.”

He put his phone back in his pocket and went
back to looking dejected. “What do we do now?” he asked.

“We’ll think of something.”

We were still sitting there trying to
think of something an hour later when Sergeant H. appeared in the doorway. “The
vasilopita cake’s here,” he announced and left.

“Cake?” I queried hopefully.

“It’s a traditional thing we eat at New
Year,” Addi said, not moving from his slumped position across the desk. “A
couple of local law firms usually send one, for the work we’ve given them over
the year.”

“That’s nice. I’m all for tradition,” I
told him getting up. “Let’s go get some before it’s all gone.”

Addi couldn’t be bothered to go so I agreed
to pick up a piece for him. When I got back, I handed over the slightly smaller
one I’d selected and took a big bite out of mine.

“Aaargh,” I screamed as my tooth hit
something hard.

“There are usually coins in it,” Addi
said, breaking his slice up into pieces first.

“Thanks for the warning,” I mumbled,
pulling a shiny coin from my mouth and feeling whether the tooth was cracked or
not.

“It’s very lucky, to find a coin.”

I rubbed my saw jaw. “Really?”

“Yes, it means good luck for the new
year.”

“You have it,” I told him bad temperedly,
shoving the coin at him.

“It doesn’t work if it’s not in my piece.”
He finished examining his cake. “I haven’t got one,” he sighed and slumped down
on the desk again. “It means I’m not going to solve this case. I don’t have
good luck.”

“Don’t be like that, just because you
didn’t break a tooth.”

“What can we do? We’ve been through all
the neighbours, all the associates, all the leads in the case, and we got
nowhere.”

“We’ve shown a lot of them couldn’t have
done it.”

“But we didn’t find who did.”

“No, I can’t believe this process didn’t work,”
I said, indicating the murder manual.

“That’s not how policing works, it’s about
instinct, hunches. Some people just have a natural talent for it. Has your aunt
had any ideas?”

“No. She’ll love it when she finds out I
was arrested.”

“That’s it, then. It’s New Year’s Day
tomorrow and the chief’s back the day after. We’ve run out of time.”

“What’ll he do, the chief?” I asked.

“Probably shut the case down. We’ve spent
a long time on it and haven’t gotten anywhere so… Obviously, it’s not the
result I wanted.”

“No.” It wasn’t the result I wanted
either, Aunt June had been keen for this to be solved and not hanging over the
expat community for ever and ever, but I couldn’t think what else we could do.

“Look, I have to go to church tonight,
with my mother…” Addi started.

For an awful second, I thought he was
going to ask me to go with them. I wasn’t sure which part would be worse,
church or her. Short of any better offers, I’d agreed to spend the evening with
Aunt June and Kostas at the club. That was something to look forward to.

“…so why don’t we finish early?”

“Good idea.”

We packed up Tina’s case file and Addi
grabbed the homicide manual.

“Well, Happy New Year,” I said and gave
him an awkward hug.

“Happy New Year,” Addi replied sadly, and
left.

 

 

With the extra time off I
decided to stop at the animal sanctuary and wish Frankie a happy new year. I’d
neglected him over Christmas and I only hoped he would forgive me.

To say he liked the carrots I’d brought
him was an understatement, he practically ripped them from my hands and I had
to move out of the way briskly as a number of his sharp eyed inmates came
rushing over to join in.

“You’re starting a stampede there,” Roger
Bale laughed from the side of the pen.

“Oh, hello. Just thought I’d bring him
some carrots.”

“Him?” Roger questioned.

I took a small step back and had a look.
Okay, I hadn’t noticed before that Frankie had some equipment missing.

“Frankie’s a girl?”

“Yep.”

“Oh.” I wasn’t sure how to feel about this
news. Did it mean I wasn’t in love after all? To confirm how Frankie felt about
it she reached up and gave me a lick on the side of my face. It was wet and
very unhygienic and wonderful.

“You’re not here to interrogate me again,
then?  I was worried when I saw you drive up,” Roger said.

“No, sorry. How have things been?”

He pulled a face. “Okay. It wasn’t much
fun being held in the cells overnight, I can tell you. People have been giving
me some funny looks since I got out.”

“No, it’s not very nice in there, is it?”

“I think it’s given me some street cred.
I’m not soft Roger anymore.”

“I never thought you did it, by the way. But
it would have been better if you’d just told DC Markou how well you knew Tina
in the first place.”

“I did, I told him we were friends. Yes,
we met for a drink in the pub sometimes but that doesn’t mean it was a sexual
relationship. He read all that into it. Men and women can be just friends, you
know. You’re friends with the detective, aren’t you?”

“True.”

“Look, I was about to give them their
feed, want to give me a hand?”

Would I? “Oh, yes,” I told him and
followed him to a series of sheds in the corner. After we’d distributed the
surprisingly heavy hay into the troughs, we stood watching with satisfaction as
the donkeys tucked into their unappetising meal.

“It would be good if you could catch this
murderer though,” Roger told me. “I’d rather people didn’t give me sideways
looks for the rest of my life. Any chance of a result soon?”

“Um. I’m not allowed to say much, but it’s
not going well. Sorry.”

“That’s a shame. It was a bad business.”

“Yes.” I hoped I hadn’t said too much.

“I thought it was funny when Tina was ill
before.”

There’d been something in the notes about
her having an illness some time before her death. It was the argument Addi had
used to claim the attacker could have been any size, he’d reckoned Tina’d been
weakened by her illness. We hadn’t actually looked into what had been wrong
with her.

“Yeah, I’d heard about that. What did she
have?”

“Some kind of stomach virus, I think.”

“Sounds nasty.” But innocent.

“Yes, if that’s what it was.”

I gave him a look. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I didn’t hear of anyone else having
it. Not even her sister who was staying with her at the time.”

“Right.” Thoughts were running around in
my mind, none of them very clear. “So what are you saying, exactly?”

Roger suddenly busied himself winding up
the string that had held the hay bale together. “Me? I wasn’t saying anything.”

“Yes you were.” I placed a hand gently on
his arm. “Tell me, it might be useful. You want this cleared up.”

He turned to look at me. “I just think
it’s suspicious that she’s the only one to get ill just before she’s murdered a
few weeks later.”

“And her family were staying at the time?”

“Yes. I rang her up but her sister
answered the phone and said she was too ill to talk. Something mighty strange
going on there.”

“But why would her sister want her dead?”

Roger started tidying up again. “That I
don’t know. But her sister was fine, didn’t get ill at all, and that sort of
thing’s meant to be very contagious.”

After a final cuddle with Frankie, I
headed home to get ready for the disaster that was bound to be New Year’s Eve
at the community hall, wondering if we’d let a murderer slip through our
fingers.

 

26 Rat Trap

 

 

What can I say about that
evening at the community hall? Unfortunately quite a lot. I obviously didn’t
drink enough as almost every cringeworthy detail was crystal clear in my memory
the next day - Aunt June and Kostas smooching away to ‘Lady Marmalade’, Henry
Blodgett, the notorious bottom pincher, catching me unawares in the corner (a surprisingly
painful place), and, worst of all, having to slow dance with an amorous seventy
year old with loose dentures. As far as New Year’s Eves go, it wasn’t my best.

Aunt June had clearly had a whale of a
time though and was in a great mood the next morning, singing a medley of
Carpenter’s hits as she tidied up. “Happy New Year darling!” she cried as I
surfaced, unable to lie in bed listening to her murdering ‘Close to You’ any
longer.

“Yeah, whatever,” I waved at her.

“Oh dear, gotten out of the wrong side of
bed, have we?”

I followed her into the kitchen. “No, ‘we’
haven’t. It’s just a bit early to be so jolly.”

“It’s 10.30.”

“Exactly.”

“Don’t forget, Kostas is coming round for
lunch...”

“How could I?” I whispered under my
breath.

“…so you’ll need to get yourself ready
soon.”

The doorbell saved me from having to
respond and, whilst Aunt June went to answer it, I availed myself of the last
cup of tea in the pot. Imagine my surprise when Aunt June retuned with, not
only Helena in tow, but her son Michalis also.

“Chronia Bolla!” they chorused from the
kitchen doorway.

“Yes, great,” I told them as I tried to
hide my Winnie the Pooh pyjamas and bear head slippers behind a hand towel.

“We’ve just come to bring you a piece of New
Year’s cake.” Helena deposited a wrapped up lump on the table. “It’s very
lucky.”

“We’ll enjoy that, won’t we?” my aunt
asked.

I automatically rubbed the place on my jaw
that was still throbbing slightly from the last ‘lucky’ cake I’d eaten.
“Lovely, thanks very much.”

“She likes any sort of cake.”

I shot Aunt June a black look.

“It’s never too early in the morning for
her, is it, dear? Go on, tuck in.”

“Aunt June!” I began but they were all
looking at me, expecting me to sample the cake. I broke off a small piece and
put it in my mouth, giving it a once over with my tongue for silver coins
first. “Mmm,” I said loudly, “lovely.”

“You don’t normally nibble,” my aunt
laughed. “You should see her−”

“Aunt June!” I said firmly. “I’m sure our
guests don’t want to hear about that. Does anyone want a drink?”

 “Thank you but we’d better go, let you
get your breakfast. We just came to wish you Happy New Year.” Helena said.

“Yes, Happy New Year−”

“−Happy New Year.”

After we’d Happy New Yeared each other to
death, Aunt June showed them out. By the time she got back, the cake Helena had left had been carefully reduced to a few crumbs. Luckily, there’d been no coin
this time.

“Thank you for showing them in when I’m
standing here in my pyjamas,” I complained, running my finger round the plate
to pick up the crumbs.

“You should get up earlier then. Don’t
tell me you’ve eaten the whole thing.”

“I needed a pick me up.”

Aunt June plonked herself down at the
table. “What’s wrong now?”

“Nothing.”

“Well, you’ve got a face like a wet
weekend.”

“You know how to cheer someone up, don’t
you?”

“Tell me what’s wrong, then. Are you
missing home? It’s only natural, this time of year.”

“There’s nothing natural about home this
time of year, or any time of year, you know my mother.”

“True. Elizabeth was always a… strong
personality. Does she still have that mania about tidying?”

“Oh yes, her house has to look like neat
as a pin at all times. That’s why it’s so relaxing being here.” My aunt raised
her eyebrow at me. “Not that I’m saying your house is messy,” I added quickly.

“So what is making you miserable?

“It’s this case at work,” I admitted with
a sigh. “I think we’ve made a right hash of it.”

“Tina Lloyd? What’s happened?”

“Nothing, that’s the problem.”

“You’re not going to find Tina’s killer?”

“Why did you think at the start it was
Tina’s sister?”

“I don’t think they got on that well, her
sister always looked down on Tina. I wouldn’t be surprised if she wasn’t a little
jealous of her sometimes, though. One thing you can say about Tina, she knew
how to have a good time with life. I thought her sister had an alibi?”

“She does but… Do you remember if there
were any stomach viruses going round the middle of September? Like that winter
vomiting thing.”

“A bit early in the year for that, the
clue’s in the name.”

I gave her a look.

“No, I don’t remember anything going round
then.”

“Exactly.”

“What’s this got to do with Tina’s murder?
You think her sister’s the one who did it?”

“That’s my feeling.”

My aunt crossed her arms with a look of
satisfaction. “The others at the club won’t believe it when I tell them.”

“You can’t say anything!” I almost
shouted. “Not to anyone. It’s just a theory.”

“No, of course not. Not until you’ve
arrested her. Of course not.” My aunt got up and started fetching vegetables
from the cupboard. Her eyes were gleaming. ”I must get this lunch started or
we’ll be eating at teatime.”

“Is Kostas staying over again?”

“No, I’ve got to go out, my Train Appreciation
Society has a meeting tonight.”

“There aren’t any trains in Cyprus.”

“I know. That’s why we appreciate them so
much.”

I’m sure that made sense somewhere.

Later, when I’d left the two of them
alone, my aunt’s typically loud whisper to Kostas, “Guess who Tina’s murderer
is?” travelled to me in the next room, and I realised the extent of my mistake.
Again.

 

By the time I got to work the
next morning, the rumour had already spread far enough to reach Addi.

“Have you heard what people are saying
about Tina Lloyd‘s sister?” he asked, coming into my office twenty minutes
after I’d arrived.

“No?”

“They’re saying she was the one murdered
her.”

“Really?”

“You haven’t heard anything? I’d have
thought your aunt would have, she’s well connected.”

“Nope, she didn’t mention anything.” I
couldn’t help noticing this lying business was getting awfully easy.

“I’d better let the chief know, see if he
wants to do anything about it.” He shook his head. “I expect I’ll have to go up
there to talk to her again.”

Just at that moment Vara, newly returned
from leave, opened her desk drawer, and almost passed out from the smell of
week old vomit. Now would be a good time to get out of the office.

“I need to speak to you first,” I said, dragging
Addi outside. I’d actually had an idea that morning in the shower.

“What?”

“I’ve thought of something−” I
started before Vara appeared in the doorway.

“What has been going on here?” she asked,
“Somebody has done something disgusting in my drawer.”

“Is it an evidence bag that leaked?” I
suggested, weakly.

“No. Look.” She was holding the drawer.

I tried not to wretch. Addi took it out of
her hands and threw it out of the window.

“Hope there wasn’t anything valuable in
it,” I commiserated as it smashed onto the ground below.

“The instructions for the filing system,” Vara
said, looking pleased.

“Things are looking up.”

As she moved over to the window to stare
out at the remnants, Addi nodded at me and we left.

“Right. What was I saying?” I asked when
we arrived on the path outside.

“Hmm,” he uttered nonchalantly, looking
down. I had at least expected him to look interested.

“What’s the matter with you?”

“My mother,” he said morosely.

This wasn’t exactly news. “What’s she done
now?”

“She’s trying to fix me up with this
girl.”

“Ah.” I joined him leaning against the
outside wall. “What’s she like?”

“Controlling, telling you what to do all
the time, what to wear, where to go.”

“Are we talking about the girl or your
mother?”

He didn’t look happy. It seemed like this
needed the sensitive touch.

“For Christ’s sake!” I started. “How old
are you? Are you going to just stand there and be pushed around?”

“No, I’m going to sit down for it,” he
mumbled and dropped down to sit on the path. This was a bit more serious than I
thought.

“You’ve got to just tell her no,” I told
him, more gently.

“It’s easy for you to say.” He started to
pick at some blades of grass between the paving stones, reminding me of a small
child.

“Alright then, marry the girl.”

A whine sounded from his drooping body. I
wasn’t entirely sure which part it had emanated from.

“So start standing up for yourself. I
think you should tell your mum if she carries on, you will be forced to move
out, and do it.”

“I don’t know if I could live on my own.”

Looking at his sad little face, I wasn’t
convinced he’d cope either. “Then move in with someone else. There must be
someone looking for a flatmate.”

He gave me a hopeful look.

“Don’t look at me. Aunt June’s house only
has two bedrooms. I mean try the classifieds. Leave a few of the adverts lying around
at home to show your mum you’re serious.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“I’m sure that’ll make a big difference.
Anyway, do you want to hear my idea or not?”

I was pleased to see he sat up a bit
straighter. “Yes.”

“I think we should get Tina’s sister down
here, question her properly. Maybe there is something in what everyone’s
saying. Let’s face it, we’ve been through everyone else. And you need to look
into Tina’s illness before her death. Find out what was actually wrong with
her.”

“Alright, but how are we going to get her
sister to come in? She’ll never agree to it. She’s always refused to come
here.”

“Which is suspicious in itself, isn’t it?
Most people would make the journey if their sister had been murdered. I know
there isn’t anything to arrest her on but it would be good if we could get her
in an interview room. She’d be more vulnerable away from home, more likely to
crack under interrogation.”

“But how?”

“We tell her you’re releasing Tina’s
belongings and get her to come and collect them.”

“That load of old rubbish? She won’t come
for that. There’s nothing worth having there, probably not even any sentimental
value.”

“Not the way we make it sound, she’ll be
on the first bus down.”

“How?”

“I haven’t spent the last few months
typing up all those bogus insurance claims for nothing…”

“Aah.”

That morning, I made Tina’s old ornaments
‘possible antiques’, her plastic jewellery ‘vintage collectables’, and the
other odd bits ‘period pieces’. The letter I constructed informed Susan
Robinson that due to the prospective value of the items, we recommended she
collect them in person instead of trusting them to the postal service. It
sounded pretty damn convincing to me.

Three days after posting it, Addi received
a phone call from Susan Robinson asking how and when the possessions could be
collected.

The bait had worked.

 

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