I’m outside the police station.
I can’t go inside because I’m representing the TUSC. Instead, I take a seat on the bench. It’s called The Waiting Game. I’m waiting for Police Sergeant Chloe Li, but I imagine I’m still in trouble from Operation Cou-cou. I’m waiting for her to take a break or go to her car so we can discuss some things, as fellow justice-seekers.
‘Ani?’ I hear after sixteen minutes on the bench. It took me nineteen-and-a-half minutes to walk from home to the police station.
I smile, looking at her uniform and her bursting bag. ‘Chloe, hi! Been a long time.’
‘Ani. You’re acting like I didn’t catch you committing a crime four days ago. Why?’
‘Consider it payback for imprisoning my dad.’
‘I don’t believe Abderrazzak did it. But following procedure means I have to have solid evidence that someone else is the murderer. So let us do our jobs, yeah?’
I nod.
‘Thank you. I must say, it’s rubbing me the wrong way, letting you get away with breaking into an active crime scene. And for withholding evidence. Now that I’ve got time, give me one good reason why I should consider not reporting it.’
I can’t help but smirk. This is exactly what I wanted – a negotiation. In a sense, at least – she’s giving me the chance to apologise. She isn’t expecting me to give her a major breakthrough in the case. ‘On behalf of the TUSC, I have reason to believe that Mrs Kostas AKA Mrs Dimas AKA Anastasia was being taunted by someone who knew something about her past.’
She sighs. Looks around. A group of police officers acknowledge her. She acknowledges them back. Walk on. But still in earshot. ‘Come on, I’ll drive you home. I was going to fuel up. Lucky for you, the petrol station is before your flat, so jump in.’
She opens the door that leads to the seat behind hers. ‘Why can’t I sit shotgun?’
‘There’s a height requirement, Ani. And a safety law.’
‘I know but you’re the law.’
Shaking her head, she watches me put my seatbelt on and settle into the seat behind her. ‘Keep it on. You know I would never stray outside my professional duties.’ She starts the car. ‘Text your mom to tell her you’re coming back home, although I can’t imagine she knows where you are.’
I pretend to type on my phone. She looks at me through the rear-view mirror. I give her a thumbs up. She can’t be that gullible – she must know I’m faking. Maybe she’s ignoring it as a professional courtesy.
‘You were saying . . . ?’
I tell Chloe about the Poppy Flowers painting turning up at Cafe Vivlio years ago and how it links to Mrs Kostas/Dimas’s past and murder.
‘What?!’ Chloe asks in such a loud tone that I think she might crash the car. ‘How –’
‘I know about Poppy Flowers because I was there. You’re welcome.’
‘Thank you, Ani,’ Chloe says as we approach a red light. She briefly catches my eye in the rear-view mirror to nod her head. ‘This will certainly help our investigation.’
I shrug like it’s no big deal. Obviously I didn’t give her this information for no reason – I want some in return. ‘So, who’s your prime suspect?’
‘. . . We don’t have one just yet. Other than your dad.’ We’re at the petrol station now. ‘Stay here. Promise you’ll be good while I’m gone.’
I cross my hidden fingers. ‘The goodest, I promise.’
I scroll on my phone while Chloe goes to the petrol pump. I can feel her eyes on me. She might be fond of me. But that doesn’t mean she wholly trusts me right now.
It also doesn’t mean I wholly trust her right now.
I depend on my peripheral vision to confirm when she goes inside to pay. Then, humming, I grab her bag from the front passenger seat.
TUSC philosophy: Sometimes, lies get the truth out.
It’s a black laptop bag with no laptop in it. Instead, it’s stuffed with case files. Loads of papers like budget plans, performance management documents, audits. But I’m only interested in one. Investigational intelligence information.
About the murder of Mrs Kostas/Dimas.
There are crime scene images of The Secret Garden. I scan the pictures of Mrs Kostas/Dimas’s body, transported back to that horrible time. Then I put a stone over my heart. Blink it away. Look on. Loads of shots of Cafe Vivlio. Close-ups of the walls, doors and windows.
The last document contains a partly redacted copy of the autopsy report. It’s an inquest by the coroner’s court. It has only the deceased’s initials – AOD. Anastasia Ophelia Dimas. I skim through it. It says Mrs Kostas/Dimas died from blunt-force trauma to the head. And her positioning and bruises were consistent with being pushed from the back.
So, she was pushed down the hillock’s stairs. I knew it!
I gulp at that realisation. I know it’s been real all this time but this makes it official.
More so with further information about the time of death.
TIME OF DEATH ESTIMATION
The post-mortem interval (PMI) looks between 3 p.m. and 6 p.m. on the confirmed date of death. At the point of discovery, there were signs of lividity throughout the body.
This makes me sad. I wonder what I was doing during those hours. While Mrs Kostas/Dimas was dying. I would cry but something catches my eye.
Item number |
Description |
1 |
Sack of postcards, some addressed to Nikolaos Ares and redacted |
2 |
Torn clothing |
3 |
Suitcase full of belongings |
4 |
Handbag full of belongings |
The evidence log from Mrs Kostas/Dimas’s flat.
A heavy feeling hangs over me. Mrs Kostas was going to run away? Maybe the murderer set up her flat to make everyone assume that?
I can hear my heartbeat. I rub the back of my neck, trapped in a daze of sad thoughts.
But I can’t react because Chloe will be back any minute now. I put everything away as it was. As best I can. Then twiddle my thumbs and wait for her.
Less than twenty seconds later, Chloe returns. ‘Did you keep your promise, Ani?’
I can’t control myself. ‘Why didn’t you tell me Mrs Kostas was planning to run away?!’ This betrayal from both Chloe and Mrs Kostas/Dimas doesn’t change my investigation – I’m still going to catch the murderer.
But it does change my feelings.
She was packing. She was going to leave me!
‘Ani, you promised you’d be good!’ Chloe sighs. ‘I’m trying to solve this. I don’t owe you anything. And I didn’t want to upset you. But, for the umpteenth time, it isn’t procedure to tell civilians – especially minors – investigational intelligence information. We don’t know the full details about – well, anything.’
‘Fine, sorry. But don’t I deserve to know something?’ My voice cracks. ‘She was like a mother to me.’
Chloe turns to look at me. Her lips press together. Looks like she feels sorry for me.
But she doesn’t need to feel sorry for me.
‘And the autopsy –’ I start.
‘Is inconclusive,’ Chloe finishes. ‘We don’t know the cause of death so we’ve requested for it to be redone.’
I’m going to break into Mrs Kostas/Dimas’s flat myself and get answers – the truth – myself.