The Divided Child (45 page)

           
"Perhaps
he has gone back to town?" Spiro suggested.

           
"Takis
had orders to remain here until I arrived,” the Lieutenant said grimly.
 
“He was also to report in every two
hours.
 
His last report is
overdue.
 
I think we must begin a
search of the grounds."

           
"Give
me a few minutes to get dressed," I said. "I'd like to help you
look."

           
"Thank
you, but for the time being I think it would be best if you remained here.
 
Spiro can help with the search.
 
Mr. Redfield, I think you should stay
with the young lady.
 
There may
still be danger for her, and I do not wish her to be alone."

           
Spiro
began to protest, but Mavros cut him short.
 
"Do not concern yourself, Spiro.
 
Mr. Redfield is an intelligent
man.
 
He understands I will hold
him personally responsible if any harm comes to the young lady during our
absence.
 
Is that not so?"

           
"She'll
be quite safe with
me
," Geoffrey replied coolly.

           
Lieutenant
Mavros raised an eyebrow at his emphasis on the second pronoun.
 
"I am pleased to hear it.
 
There is perhaps one other small detail
I should mention, however.
 
There
is a man stationed in the driveway with orders to shoot anyone who tries to leave
the villa without my express permission, so I trust I may depend on you to
remain here until Spiro and I return?"

           
"Of
course, Lieutenant.
 
You don't
think I'd leave Miss Stewart alone in this lion's den, do you?"

           
"But
I wonder, Mr. Redfield,” said Mavros with a shrug, “who is the lion?"
 
With that he motioned to Spiro and the
two men exited, leaving Geoffrey and me alone in the room. We stood there in
charged silence, until I escaped to the bathroom to get dressed.
 
When I emerged, Geoffrey was sitting in
a chair, his head resting wearily in both hands.

           
"You
look exhausted," I said.

           
He
gazed up in surprise.
 
"I'm
afraid I didn't get much sleep last night."

           
Thinking
of Elizabeth in her apricot peignoir, I ground my teeth.
 
"I suppose you were too worried
about Michael?"

           
He
stood up.
 
"It seems I should
have been more worried about you.
 
Why didn't you leave yesterday as we agreed?"

           
"With
Michael missing?
 
How could
I?"

           
"Are
you sure Michael was the only reason you stayed?"

           
"Of
course.
 
What other reason could
there be?"

           
His
gaze traveled in the direction of Spiro's room.
 
"One obvious possibility springs to mind."

           
The
thought that he might actually be jealous was balm to my battered ego.
 
"Is that why you came bursting in
here this morning?"

           
"I
came 'bursting in here', as you put it, because I found your note and thought
perhaps you were in some sort of trouble."

           
"It's
just as well I wasn't, since I slipped that note under your door yesterday
afternoon.
 
I suppose with your
busy night you only just found it?"

           
"My
busy night?"

           
"Never
mind.
 
The reason I wanted to see
you and the reason I wrote that note is that I've found out something I think
you should know:
 
Spiro
was
in England on the day your brother died."

           
"But
that's impossible!” he exclaimed.
 
“The police checked.
 
He
arrived in England on the 16th."

           
I
nodded.
 
"He also arrived on
the 15th.
 
I've seen his
passport.
 
There are two dated
entry stamps: one dated March 15th from Birmingham and another dated March 16th
from Heathrow."

           
Geoffrey
flashed me a strange look.
 
"You realize what this means?"

           
"Of
course," I snapped, feeling an illogical sense of guilt.
 
I reminded myself that the rules of
hospitality could hardly apply when murder was involved.
 
"It means Spiro manufactured an
alibi for himself.
 
More
importantly, it means he manufactured an alibi for himself before anyone could
have known he would need one."

           
"Anyone,"
Geoffrey corrected grimly, "except the person who sent my brother over
that cliff."

           
"What
are you going to do now?" I asked.

           
"Give
this information to the police.
 
There was an inspector who seemed less than satisfied with the verdict
of death by misadventure.
 
Perhaps
with this she'll be able to persuade her superiors to reopen the case."

           
"But
there's still no proof your brother's death was anything but an accident."

           
"Perhaps
they'll find something new."

           
"Perhaps,"
I agreed slowly.
 
"Of course,
it might help if you told them the truth about what happened the day he
died.
 
What did you and your
brother argue about that afternoon?"

           
"I'm
sorry, Christine.
 
I can't tell
you."

           
Angrily,
I bit my lip.
 
"Did your
brother threaten to disinherit you?"

           
His
green eyes regarded me steadily.
 
"Yes."

           
"And
that made you angry?"

           
"No.
 
I probably would have done the same in
his place."
 
He added quietly,
“You still haven't told me how you come to know all this."

           
"I
guess we both have our secrets," I said.

           
He
frowned.
 
"I thought William
and I were alone in the house that afternoon.
 
If someone else was there, lurking in the shadows, that
person may be his murderer."

           
I
shook my head.
 
"No."

           
"How
can you be so certain?"

           
"I
just am."

           
He
gave me a long look.
 
"It was
Skouras, wasn't it?"

           
I
shook my head, startled.
 
"No!"

           
"You've
already admitted he was in England that day, despite what he told the
police.
 
It's obvious he must be
the one who told you about the argument with my brother -- I suppose he was
hiding in my brother's house that afternoon and overheard us?"

           
I
evaded a direct answer.
 
"You still
haven't told me why your brother was so angry with you.
 
What had you done, that he felt
compelled then and there to dispose of the bicycle you'd given Michael for
Christmas?"

           
"What?
 
What are you talking about?"

           
"That's
the reason he went out that night," I said.
 
"To get rid of it."
 
Geoffrey stared at me and I added, "Wasn't Michael's
bicycle found in the trunk of your brother's car?"

           
"No."

           
"Perhaps
it was thrown clear?"

           
He
shook his head.
 
“The area was
searched thoroughly.
 
If Michael's bicycle
had been in my brother's car when it went over that cliff, I assure you it
would have been found."

           
"Perhaps
your brother had already gotten rid of it?"

           
"Perhaps,"
he agreed, sounding thoughtful.

           
There
was the sound of running footsteps, and Spiro burst into the room.
 
His gaze immediately fixed on
Geoffrey.
 
"So,” he said.
 
“You are still here."

           
Geoffrey
replied blandly, "Why shouldn't I be?
 
It's my nephew's house, after all."

           
Something
angry and more than a little menacing flared in Spiro's face.

           
"Did
you find Takis?" I asked anxiously.
 
"Is he all right?"

           
"He
will live," Spiro replied.
 
"I must phone the ambulance."

           
He
strode across the room toward the door to the hallway.
 

           
"Where’s
the Lieutenant?" I asked.

           
"By
the cliff."
 
Spiro flashed me
one brief, considering look, and then the door slammed after him.

           
Geoffrey
started for the French windows.

           
"Wait,
I'm coming with you," I called out.
 
Geoffrey paused and turned, holding out his hand.
 
Oddly comforted, I took it.
 

           
We
followed the path I'd followed my first day at
Ithaki
.
 
We emerged from the thicket of pine to
see Mavros kneeling beside a prone figure.
 
My grip on Geoffrey’s hand tightened.

           
As
we drew closer, we could see the man lying on the ground was Takis. To my
relief, his eyes were open.
 
One
hand cupped a large and rather nasty looking bump on the back of his head.
 
My exclamation of dismay caused his
angry scowl to change to a look of embarrassment.

           
"What
happened?" I exclaimed.

           
"He
was making an inspection of the grounds," Lieutenant Mavros replied,
"when he thought he heard someone cry out."

           
"The
sound came from this direction,” Takis added, “so I ran here, but when I
arrived I could find nothing.
 
I
started toward the cliff to look over and make sure no one was below, but
before I could do so, someone struck me from behind and knocked me out."

           
"What
about the cry?" I demanded.
 
"It wasn't Michael?"

           
"No,
it was not the boy," Mavros replied heavily.

           
"Then
who?"

           
He
stood up and led the way to the edge of the cliff.
 
Geoffrey and I followed.
 
We stared down at the rocks below.
 
A crumpled figure lay still on the mottled grey shore, one brown
arm flung out, its hand tightly clasping a purse that glittered gold in the
morning sun.

           
I
quickly turned away feeling a little sick.

           
"Who
. . .?" asked Geoffrey in a perplexed voice.
 
He addressed the question to the Lieutenant, but it was I
who answered in a whisper.

           
"It's
Helen."

Chapter Twenty-Three

           
The
morning crawled by slowly and grimly.

           
For
some time, Mavros was too busy with the routines necessary in a case of violent
death to spare attention to the somber and uneasy group of people gathered
inside the villa.
 
Two ambulances,
one for Takis and one for Helen, came and went.
 
Policemen swarmed over the beach and cliff like ants.
 
Ithaki's
grounds were combed for
any sign of the mysterious assailant.

           
Inside
the villa, two policemen stood guard.
 
To simplify their job, we were all gathered into the large drawing room,
but we were far from a united group.
 
Spiro and his sister set up camp on one side of the room and Geoffrey
established his base on the other.
 
Maria and Aphrodite, the only remaining representatives of the live-in
staff, hovered in the corner looking dazed, and I -- well, I wasn't sure where
to go, so I sat by myself near the windows and watched the policemen scurrying
to and fro.

           
The
Lieutenant decided to conduct his interviews separately this time, one person
being summoned from the drawing room at a time.
 
Demetra was called out first.
 
Spiro was next, followed by Aphrodite and then Maria.
 
Finally, it was my turn.
 
Geoffrey, apparently, was being saved
for last.