Athora, page 26
I lay down determined to get some sleep but, despite my fatigue, my eyes refused to obey. I started counting backward from one hundred, trying to relax, when I heard a man’s voice on the walkie-talkie calling in Stelios. The man repeatedly asked Stelios to come in among the static, receiving no reply. After the fourth time, I picked it up and stated my name.
It was the chief of police. I immediately asked him if I could be of any help, and he explained that someone at Pera Mera had reported seeing a light at the shelter’s secret exit and he wondered if Stelios knew what was going on.
We radioed out and I waved any chance of sleep goodbye. What was that light?
Fully aware that I was acting impulsively, I got dressed as quietly as I could, picked up a flashlight, and five minutes later was making my way to the shelter. Maybe it was nothing, but my every instinct screamed that I should get to Sophie as fast as I could.
By the time I got there, the sky was a milky shade that indicated it would not be long before the first light of day. I turned off my flashlight and surveyed the town from my high vantage point. I could see most of the houses from up here. All were dark, bar a few windows where candlelight flickered on the windowsills. I looked at the house where Gabriel was staying—no sign of life behind the dark windows.
A furtive movement in the narrow alleys suddenly caught my eye. I looked closely but everything seemed still. I kept my eyes peeled and, sure enough, a few seconds later, the figure moved once again, in the direction of the square.
I followed it as far as the view would allow and saw it disappear behind the church ruins. Seized by a sense of foreboding, I broke into a sprint, convinced that the shadow I had spotted was heading for the shelter.
Panting heavily, I reached the first houses, stumbling and tripping over the fallen debris. Without stopping, I spurred myself on and ran across the square, stopping only when I arrived at the short alley leading to the shelter. I fumbled for the radio and turned it off, worried that the static or a sudden voice might give my presence away. I then crept to the last house, keeping close to the walls, and crouched low behind a pile of stones where the courtyard wall had once stood.
In the dim, powdery white light, I could see a man in a baseball cap bent over the entrance to the shelter. He was holding a penlight in his clenched teeth, using what looked like a set of long pins to pick the lock.
The door clicked softly and he looked up. Carlo! What was he doing here? I had to bite my tongue to stop myself from calling out his name. Instead, I crouched down even lower. He looked around to make sure he was alone, pushed the door, and stepped inside.
I hesitated for a few moments not knowing what to do. Think, think, I urged myself. Sophie might be in danger.
I stood up and picked a broken plank that lay on the cobblestones a couple of feet away. I hoped I would not have to use it. Raising it like a sword before me, I entered the shelter.
* * *
A man wearing a thick dark t-shirt and a baseball cap pulled low over his forehead slowly walked through the tunnel leading to the secret exit, pausing frequently to catch his breath.
The woman was heavier than she looked. She hung over his shoulder, unconscious, her head dropping low over his back and swaying back and forth as he moved. Her long white hair swept the floor.
In his left hand, he held a flashlight and pointed its beam straight ahead until he arrived by the ladder leading to the exit, where the tunnel widened. He lowered the woman to the ground. She lay on her back, very still. He removed a length of rope from his pocket, then something wrapped in a white towel. Placing them on the floor beside her, he unfolded the towel to reveal a long, sharp knife.
Sophie groaned and turned her head to one side. He paused and looked at her, panting heavily after the exertion of the long walk. Nervously, he tried to untangle the piece of rope with shaky fingers and dropped it in his haste. Losing patience, he picked up the knife and cut through the knot.
Kneeling over her, he gripped her shirt in his fists and tore it open, exposing her bare chest. She seemed to be regaining consciousness. With great effort, she opened her eyes and looked at him as he raised the knife high above his head, ready to plunge it into her heart.
“You?” Sophie whispered.
“Who did you expect?” he spat through gritted teeth.
“Not you… it doesn’t matter,” she replied calmly.
Her peaceful expression outraged him. “Shut up!” he snapped. “I’m not here to talk!”
“I don’t know who you are trying to avenge, but I’m sorry. I wish I could—”
He placed his left palm over her mouth and gripped the knife in his right hand so tightly his knuckles turned white. As if he could not go on, his hand started to shake, the tremor slowly spreading to the rest of his body. He slowly uncovered her mouth.
Seeing the man hesitate, Sophie shouted at him, “Do it! I know why you are here. Do it!” She repeated the last two words, over and over again, imploring him, but the man still seemed to hesitate.
Sophie slowly reached out and gripped the hand holding the knife. She swung it down with all her force, arching her back to get closer to the sharp blade. The man resisted and tried to pull his hand back.
* * *
I paused just inside the shelter and stood still, ears pricked for the slightest sound. In the empty shelter, any noise was sure to echo, but all was quiet. Carlo was nowhere to be seen.
I regretted not thinking calmly and radioing for backup while I was still outside. It was as if I was becoming addicted to danger, following my gut feeling against all reason.
I gripped the piece of wood in both hands like a bat, ready to swing it, and slowly inched forward. I looked around as I walked but there was no sign of Carlo or Sophie.
The creaking sound of a door farther down the corridor made me stop. Someone had just entered the tunnel leading to the secret exit. The flickering candle flames dimly lit the hallway, but the corridor was pitch-dark.
I hurried in that direction, turning my flashlight on and off to see ahead, and entered the tunnel through the open door.
I could distinguish the shadow of a man walking ahead, holding a penlight. He kept his hands cupped around it so that only the narrowest of beams escaped.
Keeping back at a safe distance to mask my presence, I saw him disappear around the bend and heard a woman’s voice, though the words were indistinct. Sophie! Carlo must have brought her here and now returned to… to do what?
I hesitated for a moment, but then Sophie’s voice rang out again, this time clearly. “Do it!” she repeatedly beseeched.
I hurried in that direction. Carlo had stopped ahead. He was hiding behind a small protrusion on the tunnel wall and peeking out toward the ladder. Beneath it, two bodies were locked in deadly struggle.
Unsure of what I was witnessing, I saw Sophie on the floor and a man with his fist up in the air. I gasped when I saw the knife, but before I could shout out, a loud bang reverberated through the tunnel, followed by an acrid smell.
As if in slow motion, the man’s body jerked and fell to one side. A loud scream escaped my lips.
Carlo turned around sharply, pointing his gun and flashlight at me. In a panic, I dropped the piece of wood and froze.
Without saying a word, Carlo turned back and shone his flashlight on the wounded man who lay on his side, drawing in gasping, ragged breaths.
I tried to see Sophie, but she was no longer on the floor. I ran to the injured man, ignoring Carlo who still held him in his sights while waving the flashlight around the tunnel looking for the old woman.
The man on the floor had managed to turn onto his stomach and, like a wounded animal, was trying to crawl away.
Carlo walked up to him. Bending over, he snatched the baseball cap off his head and rolled him over with his foot. I turned my flashlight on and with a trembling hand shone it on his face. I knew who it was even before I saw his features, but I desperately wanted to make sure, refusing to believe it.
When I met his eyes, I felt as if the world around me collapsed. Blood poured out of Gabriel’s mouth as he lay on his back, cradling his stomach, where a dark stain was spreading on his t-shirt.
Carlo hastily patted him down, shaking him this way and that and Gabriel groaned in pain. Carlo took the knife and flung it far away. Having made sure Gabriel was unarmed, he handed me the gun saying, “Don’t let him get away. I’ll go find Sophie.”
He reached the rusty staircase and started climbing, two rungs at a time.
I took a step back, unable to accept what was happening. Gabriel seemed to be growing weaker by the minute. He let his head drop to the ground. Judging by the growing stain on his top, he did not have long to live. I wanted to scream and sob in despair.
As if he sensing my agony, Gabriel fixed his eyes on me. “Time is running out, Fotini,” he whispered.
I opened and closed my mouth, but no words would come. Carlo returned just then. “Sophie has disappeared,” he wearily announced.
Still shocked, I handed him the gun and took off my jacket. Folding it as I knelt beside Gabriel, I pressed it onto his wound, trying to stem the blood loss. He cried out in pain.
“What were you doing? Why… Who are you?” I asked, tears streaming down my cheeks.
Carlo looked at Gabriel and spoke in a voice filled with certainty. “You killed the men in Istanbul and Como.”
Gabriel nodded.
“And the two men on Athora.”
“Yes.”
I gasped. “How can you have killed Father George?” My voice quavered. “We were together that night on Ikaria.”
“That’s what you think, Fotini, because that’s what I made you believe… You were my alibi…” In a coarse, ragged voice, Gabriel started to recount what had happened that night.
Chapter 14
* * *
Ikaria, four days earlier
A car pulled up by the front door of the hotel. Gabriel stepped out from the passenger seat. Before he even had a chance to close the door properly, the girl driving the car sped away. She was still angry that he had disappeared at the fair and that his colleague, who was obviously coming on to him, had ruined her dress.
The man raised his hand and waved goodbye, an awkward smile on his face. As soon as the car was a safe distance away, the smile disappeared. He lowered his raised hand and looked at his watch.
He glanced at the hotel, where not a soul stirred at this late hour, and walked off quickly in the opposite direction. As soon as he was at the dock, he untied the ropes of the speedboat he had rented using a fake passport and silently snuck out of the port, its motor muted.
He sailed in this manner for about ten minutes, putting some distance between the boat and the dock, and checked the sat nav. Feeling safer, he powered up the motor; minutes later the speedboat was flying on the surface of the sea.
Setting sail for Athora, he unlocked the small cabinet by the steering wheel and took out a backpack. Unzipping it, he removed a baseball cap and checked that everything he needed was there. He placed the hat on his head and took the steering wheel.
Flashes of lightning in the distance were barely visible, foretelling of the coming weather change. He had already checked the forecast, to be sure that the bad weather would last long enough for him to be able to carry out his plans on Athora. At present, however, the sea was so calm the boat seemed to be sprinting on rail tracks rather than water.
Gabriel’s gaze remained fixed ahead and the sea breeze further hardened his features. He knew that everything had to be timed perfectly in the few hours ahead.
* * *
Although I heard him describe how he arrived on Athora that night from Ikaria, I still could not believe that the man I had started to fall in love with was the murderer. A ruthless killer, who had snuck onto the island in the middle of the night, killed the priest and returned to Ikaria, unflappable.
Seeing him struggle for breath, I cried out, “Gabriel, why?”
“Why did I kill them?” He turned to Carlo and spoke with great difficulty, the blood gurgling in his mouth. “You tell her… I suspected you weren’t who you said you were and I was certain once I saw your phone… that night at the pharmacy. Did you think I didn’t know you were closing in? If I wanted to, you’d never have caught me…” He started choking on the blood and had to stop.
“I don’t understand,” I desperately said. “Do you two know each other? Why did you try to kill Sophie?”
Gabriel reached out and took my hand in his. I felt his blood stick between our entwined fingers. Every word seemed to sap whatever strength he had left and his face turned pale.
“There’s a lot you need to know. I just want you to remember that although I used you as an alibi at the start…” He paused and struggled to breathe. I stroked his forehead to encourage him to go on. “What came after… I felt it… I wish we’d met under different circumstances, Fotini. I feel like I have known you all my life. Everything you need to know… my laptop…”
He removed a crumpled photo from his pocket and handed it to me with a trembling hand. Stained by his blood, the image was unclear. I could just about make out the faces of two children smiling at the camera.
“This is where it all began,” he whispered, his hand dropping limply by his side.
In a pained voice, he kept talking, but everything he said was so confusing I could not make any sense of it. I glanced at Carlo to see if he could help me out, but he just stood and watched the dying man indifferently.
“Why did you try to kill Sophie?” I asked, watching his eyes begin to glaze over.
“She was the beginning, but I couldn’t… maybe it wasn’t her fault… never mind… never mind… I want to stay on Athora forever. Start with the photo…” His whisper was growing fainter with each word and he suddenly stopped.
I froze when I brought my fingers to the side of his neck. His heart had stopped beating and I did not know whether I should try to resuscitate him or not. I desperately moved my palms over his chest, but Carlo bent down and gently pulled them away.
“He’s gone, Fotini,” he said.
Tears were flowing down my face, dripping onto the bloodstained clothes. Carlo crouched beside me and wrapped his arms around me trying to comfort me. I did not know exactly why I was crying. A river of sadness inside me was washing all my thoughts away.
Chapter 15
* * *
Sitting on a rock by the port, I gazed out at the calm sea and tried to still my mind and my soul. I could not accept that Gabriel was a murderer, and a maelstrom of “why’s” raged inside me, tinged with the bitter taste of betrayal.
I suddenly felt the presence of a man beside me. I looked up and saw Carlo standing above me. I had not even heard him approach. He asked me if he could join me and I shifted to make room for him without saying a word.
“I guess there are many things you’d like to ask, Fotini.”
I was taken aback by the tenderness in his voice.
“I didn’t want to leave them unanswered. Maybe Stelios has already told you I work for Interpol.”
I nodded.
“I’ve been working on a very strange case for a while. It’s about a secret organization that helps criminals disappear.”
I stared at him, confused.
“Let’s say you’ve committed a crime and there’s a good chance you’ll get arrested. If you have the money, lots of money, you can pay that organization to erase your traces forever. We are not sure how contact is made. All we’ve managed to find out is that the organization has existed for many years. With the help of an informant, we started to put together a world map of the organization’s… clients and their current location. The plan was to gather as much information as we could and then make our move.
“We already knew that the victims in Istanbul and Como were a part of it. Even if we hadn’t, their tattoos would have given them away.”
“Tattoos?” I asked and remembered the inky stain on the priest’s body.
“Everyone who assumed a new identity had a tattoo of Achilles’ death. You remember the Iliad, how the Trojans killed Achilles, an arrow piercing his heel. As you saw, some had taken care to erase this shared mark.
“After the Como murder, we had information that the possible murderer may have flown to Greece. I didn’t know how many of them were hiding here when I arrived, just that there was more than one of them. The Greek islands are a good place to hide. Unfortunately, without being able to identify the prospective victims, I couldn’t prevent the first two. If the storm had not died out, I would never have received Sophie’s photo in time. The murderer was always one step ahead of us.”
“Gabriel,” I whispered.
“Yes, Gabriel. He left little hints here and there so we could follow him, but was always a step ahead. He acted as if he wanted us to catch him one day. It was as if he did not care for the consequences; nothing else mattered other than carrying out the murders.
“I don’t know what his motives were or how he managed to access classified information. I guess once we examine his laptop we’ll have the answers.”
He covered my hand with his palm and gave it a compassionate squeeze. “I’m leaving for Athens in a few hours. I hope to see you before you return to the US. I’ll have more answers then.”
* * *
Three days later
Accompanied by my parents, I walked on the temporary dock where the ship for Piraeus would be arriving any minute now. Two days later, I would be boarding a plane and returning to America. I had been tempted to resign and stay on the island to help my parents, but they refused to even entertain that possibility. They insisted they would be just fine without me.
