2018
Aphrodite is sprawled on her side at the foot of the bed, deep in sleep and twitching with dreams. Quinn, wide awake, watches her cat with envy. It is almost 5.30 a.m., and she hasn’t slept all night. How could she, after what happened at the restaurant?
Sunrise isn’t far away. Light creeps in through Quinn’s open window, along with the smell of pine and jasmine.
Her right foot throbs. Two hot, distinct points of pain where the snake’s fangs entered her. If pain is, as she believes, the body’s way of trying to communicate, what is her body trying to tell her?
The bracelet Andreas gave her is still fastened around her wrist. The evil eye looks up at her, glassy and blue. You need protection.
She can’t shake the image of him in the restaurant, charging after the waiter with the broken bottle in his hand. Brave of Mel to intervene like that. She must have dealt with plenty of drunk people during her police career. Quinn feels lucky to have someone so multi-skilled in the Pure Heart family. Someone so loyal.
Part of her is dreading the coming day. What if Andreas still wants to go to the police and tell them about Sofia’s offer? Hopefully he was too drunk last night to remember what he said.
She needs to stay positive. Last night’s excesses might have purged Andreas of his paranoia. He might have hit the rock bottom of his current drinking spree and come to his senses. Tom Quinn believed the honest expression of difficult feelings to be fundamental to wellbeing. Members of the Islington commune took self-expression very seriously. The sound of sex saturated the townhouse day and night. Vicious arguments and furious debate heated the unheated rooms. Screams ricocheted off the damp walls. Tom was a great champion of scream therapy.
A banging noise startles her. Seconds later, she hears movement in Grigor’s room as the big man hauls himself out of his bed, the mattress springs sighing. She recognises Dmitri’s voice and then comes a low, urgent discussion in Russian.
Aphrodite opens one eye and stretches as Quinn gets out of bed and shuffles her way into her living room, where she shoves her feet into the unyielding Crocs and grabs one of the crutches to lean on.
When she taps on Grigor’s door, Dmitri answers. Even at this time of day he is immaculate in his suit trousers, shirt and waistcoat.
‘What’s going on?’ she asks.
In the background, Grigor is buttoning up his shirt.
‘Andreas is gone,’ says Dmitri.
‘Are you sure?’ Quinn asks. ‘What do you—’
‘There is problem with Wi-Fi,’ Grigor says. ‘The alarm is not working.’
‘Maybe he went out hours ago,’ Dmitri says.
Quinn’s foot throbs. ‘Do you think he’s gone to talk to the police?’
Dmitri sighs. ‘I don’t know. All the cars are still here and the gate is still closed.’
Grigor interjects in Russian.
‘Yes, he could have walked up to the road,’ Dmitri says.
‘I will drive up to the road.’ Grigor picks up a holster from the bed and slips it over one shoulder. A black pistol peeks out of it. Quinn shudders. She tells herself Grigor is contractually obliged to wear it. The gun is part of his uniform, just like the waistcoat he is buttoning over it.
‘What’s going on?’
Quinn turns to see Mel bounding up the stairs.
‘It’s Andreas,’ Quinn explains, ‘he’s missing.’
As she and Mel follow the bodyguards down the stairs, Quinn fills Mel in on what the men have told her. With each step, she forces herself to put more weight on her foot. By the time they reach the ground floor, she hardly needs her crutch at all, despite the discomfort.
Grigor heads out of the front door to the car park.
‘I will tell Sofia,’ Dmitri says, before hurrying away.
‘What shall we do?’ Mel asks. ‘Should I get the others?’
‘Not yet,’ Quinn says. ‘I need some air.’
They head out to the courtyard. Quinn inhales the clean mountain air. A crescent moon hangs in the dawn sky, sharp as a scimitar. Some of the cats are on the prowl, slight figures darting behind statues.
‘Will Andreas go to the police?’ Mel asks.
‘I hope not. He’ll only be wasting their time.’
‘Maybe it would be best if he does. For all of us.’
‘Why? To say what? No one here is going to take Sofia up on her offer.’ A sharp cry from the heavens. Quinn looks up and sees a large bird of prey circling. Watching them with its clear vision.
When she looks down again, she spots something she didn’t see when they first stepped out into the courtyard. A wisp of smoke rising up from the olive grove below.
‘It’s okay,’ she says, a smile spreading across her face. ‘I know where he is.’