“Well, keep it that way, Miss Phillips. It’s the safest thing to do.”
Jane got up and shook the detective’s hand, relieved that it was all over. He, however, was wondering whether or not she was telling the complete truth. Had she really not told Eve Masters anything about Yiannis? Dimitris Kastrinakis doubted that she had kept this news from her. In fact, he thought that it was probably Eve herself that had told Jane to come to the police. Yes, Jane Phillips was a nervous young thing and would have been too scared to have done this on her own.
Damn. Will that insufferable woman, Eve Masters, never stop? No, I doubt it, not until she’s six feet under.
* * * *
As Jane left the police station to go home, Betty Jones was parking a little way down the road in the opposite direction. Jane was wiping away a few tears and didn’t see her.
Betty was in a foul mood and for once it had nothing to do with Eve Masters.
I’ll show Don, fooling around behind my back. How dare he? I shall tell that detective right now. I doubt for one minute that Don did kill Lucy, but he deserves to pay for his infidelity. He’ll go through hell as a suspect, absolute hell.
“Serves him right,” she said as she stormed though the doors of the police station.
Dimitris Kastrinakis was getting a coffee from the vending machine and saw her almost immediately.
Oh no, not Betty Jones. She’s someone I could do without. Is she coming to plead for her husband? She certainly doesn’t look as if she’s going to; more likely turn him in. My God, I thought us Greeks led complicated lives, but they’re nothing compared to the English.
“Ah, officer Kastrinakis, I’m pleased you’re here. I must talk to you. I have some important information concerning Lucy Fowler. It’s imperative that I tell you.”
“Well, Mrs. Jones, then you must come straight into my office. There’s no time to lose.”
His sarcasm was wasted on Betty, who nodded seriously and rushed into the room he indicated. Stavros was already seated there.
When they had also sat down, Dimitris smiled at Betty, ignoring the fact that she looked as miserable as sin.
“So, Mrs. Jones, tell me what’s so important that you have to speak to me right now.”
“Well....” Betty began and then suddenly burst into tears. “Oh my goodness, I don’t think I can tell you after all. I feel so ashamed. How could he do this to me? I’ll be the laughing stock of the village.”
Betty, once she’d started crying, couldn’t stop and Dimitris felt embarrassed yet again.
“Now, now, Mrs. Jones, I’m sure nobody will laugh at you. You’re very well respected.”
“I was until that awful woman came here.”
“What woman?”
“Eve, Eve Masters, of course. She thinks she’s better than everyone and she hates me. When she finds this out, she’ll be delighted, I know she will.”
“It's not important what she thinks, or anyone else for that matter, Mrs. Jones. You must take no notice. Now, please, you must tell me what you know. We have a killer to catch and lock up before he possibly strikes again.”
“Well,” Betty started, feeling the tears welling up again. “I’m pretty sure my husband was having an affair with Lucy Fowler.”
“And how do you know that?’
“I unexpectedly went to Chania with Annie Davies one day and I saw them, Don and Lucy, together in a cafe. He hadn’t told me he was going to meet her,” Betty said, as the tears started to flow again. “When I questioned him, he said that they had met for coffee. She was having marital problems and needed to talk to someone. Come on, do you think I was born yesterday?”
“He could have been telling the truth, Mrs. Jones. He’s seems like a kind and considerate man to me.”
"Hmm, men and women can’t be friends in my opinion. The say they can, but it’s impossible. There’s always this awful thing called lust involved.”
“I disagree, madam. I do have friends who are women, but that isn’t the point. Even if they were having an affair, it doesn’t mean that your husband killed Mrs. Fowler. He could have done of course; perhaps in a fit of rage if Lucy ended their relationship. However, there are other suspects.”
“Thank goodness,” Betty sighed.
“Really?” Dimitris asked. “You came here to turn him in and now you’re pleased that there are other people who could have killed Mrs. Fowler.”
“I didn’t turn him in,” Betty bawled. “I wanted to tell you about his affair myself before anyone else did, otherwise it would look as if Don were guilty. To tell you the truth, he couldn’t hurt a fly.”
“Most people have a secret side, Mrs. Jones.”
“Heavens above, Don and I have been married for forty-six years. Do you not think I know him inside and out?”
“Perhaps.”
“Well, I think this is the last time I shall confide in you, Mr. Kastrinakis,” Betty remarked sternly. “I’m certain Kevin Fowler had much more cause to kill his wife. Their marriage was in a terrible state.”
“We’re looking into lots of possibilities, Mrs. Jones,” Dimitris replied, now having had enough of Betty Jones.
“I’m glad to hear it. Well, I must be going if there’s nothing else you want to ask?”
“While you’re here, you could tell me where you were between the hours of seven and ten p.m. on the night of Lucy Fowler’s murder.”
“I don’t believe it, now you think I killed her? As if I could carry her into the cave! A woman my age.”
Dimitris kept silent as Betty’s voice rose in anger.
“If you must know,” she continued. “I was at home with Don until about eight and then I went to Georgioupolis on my own to buy a piece of jewellery. I think I still have the receipt. It may even have the time and date on it. Now that would that prove my innocence, wouldn’t it?” she said smugly.
“I am not accusing you of anything, Mrs. Jones. This is just routine, though of course the receipt would be helpful. What time did you return home that evening?”
“About nine thirty. Is there anything else?” Betty asked gruffly.
“No thank you, that’s all.”
Betty turned and walked out swiftly without bothering to say goodbye. As she left, Dimitris shook his head again, wondering what was wrong with the English. He couldn’t imagine a Greek woman going to the police to turn in her husband for having an affair. Shoot him yes, but not betray him to the law!
* * * *
Dimitris went through each conversation thoroughly. He still found it difficult to believe that either Don or Betty was the killer. As for Yiannis, he’d put nothing past him. Still, his main suspect remained Kevin Fowler.
Lucy’s body still had to be identified, but as Dimitris got up to leave the station to pick up Justin, he saw Annie Davies hovering at the door.
Oh no, not another one of these English people. I wish I hadn’t sat here for so long and had got on my way before she arrived.
However, despite his thoughts, Dimitris was as polite as ever.
“Mrs. Davies, come in. What can I do for you?”
“I’m sorry to bother you, Officer Kastrinakis, but I remembered something that may be pertinent to the case of Lucy Fowler. I thought I should tell you about it.”
“Of course, please sit down, Mrs. Davies. I’ll just get my sergeant.”
Once Dimitris had returned with Stavros, he asked Annie to continue.
“Well, I’ll get straight to the point. I’m sure you’re very busy.”
She then paused and looked a little nervous. Dimitris was frustrated. He was busy and he needed her to hurry.
“Come now, Mrs. Davies, whatever you say here will be confidential; you have my word.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that.”
Annie sounded relieved, but Dimitris was getting annoyed that she still wasn’t getting on with her story.
“Well,” she finally began. “About six weeks ago, I came out of the local shop in Plaka and Paul and Lucy were standing outside arguing. I caught what I think was the tale end of their conversation. Paul was telling Lucy that if she didn’t start being a nicer person, she’d be sorry and he would make sure of it personally.”
“So you think Paul killed Lucy?” Dimitris asked.
“Oh, I don’t know about that, but he was threatening her. I thought I should tell you anyway.”
“Well, thank you, Mrs. Davies. Yes, it was important that you gave me this information.”
Annie got up, relieved that it was all over. She hoped that she hadn’t made a mistake coming to the police station. She didn’t want the wrong person to be arrested.
Watching Annie leave, Dimitris shook his head for the umpteenth time that day. Did Paul really mean to hurt Lucy if she didn’t change her behavior? Dimitris knew that he had quite a temper and remembered that he attacked Eve Masters in December. Yes, Paul Fowler would be another addition to the growing list of suspects.
David had decided that he would go to the airport alone to pick up Emma so they could have some time to catch up on family news. At first, Eve had been annoyed to be left out. After all Emma would be living with David and they would have plenty of time to chat. However, now she was pleased that he had made that decision. There was so much to think about concerning the murder and she didn’t fancy hanging around the airport, especially if the plane was late. Anyway, she would be seeing Emma in the evening.
Once David had left, Eve got herself a cold glass of lemonade and went outside to think about Lucy Fowler. However, although she thought she was looking forward to having time alone, the house suddenly felt empty and Eve felt her eyes water.
What is wrong with me? I’ve always lived alone and it’s never bothered me. Now I’m missing David and he’s only been gone for fifteen minutes. How soppy is that?
Eve had never lived with anyone before, nor had she been married. Yes, there had been weekends away and the occasional romantic break on a tropical beach, but the previous Christmas had been the first time she had spent a significant length of time living with a man. She and David had tried it out a few times since and although Eve enjoyed having David around, she did occasionally miss her independence and hadn’t minded when he had left and gone home. This was the first time she was actually missing having him around.
However, there was a part of her that felt that this whole ‘living together’ bit didn’t quite suit her. Eve had an old fashioned streak and deep down she wanted to get married. Not only that, she wanted the complete package. She imagined being proposed to in a romantic restaurant, dressed to the nines, with David looking as gorgeous as ever in his best suit. She could just see him getting down on one knee and popping the question.
Eve had even gone as far as dreaming about their actual wedding day. They would have the ceremony on the beach and all their friends from England would come over. The reception would naturally be held in one of the 5 star hotels on the island, with excellent food, the best champagne and a great band to dance to.
Betty would be green with envy, she thought, chuckling. Then to top it all, we would go on to have a wonderful honeymoon in Africa...... Why oh why won’t David propose? I love him so much and I know he loves me. I can’t understand his reluctance. It must be because of his disastrous first marriage. What am I to do? I reckon I’m going to have to start dropping hints.
Unfortunately, David was unaware of Eve’s great desire to marry. He thought she was a modern woman who thought marriage was an old-fashioned institution. It disappointed him as he wanted to marry Eve, but he was sure that if he asked her, she would run a mile. He didn’t want to lose her, despite all her faults, and goodness knows there were a lot of those. She could be aggressive and domineering at times, and she was often self- centered, but on the other hand, she was exciting and fun to be with. He also had to admit that she had changed for the better in the past year. She had mellowed and had started thinking of other people as well as of herself, albeit occasionally. She was still vain however and did get bored easily, but David knew life on Crete was just a little too dull for her. However, she was forever popping back to England as if it were next door. Yes, she could afford it, but it still seemed like a waste of money to David. However, if it kept her happy, who was he to deny her that? She always came back having missed him dreadfully and their reunions were wonderful. It was almost worth it to say goodbye.
When it came down to it, both Eve and David wanted the same thing and what was needed was some proper communication between the two of them.
Eve finished her glass of lemonade, knowing she was wasting time thinking about David when she should be concentrating on Lucy. She went and got another drink, deciding to set her mind to the task ahead. She started wondering what her first step should be in trying to discover Lucy’s killer. It still disturbed her that she had seen Pete and Lucy together and she wished she could get their image out of her mind.
Eve had always thought that Annie and Pete were happy. They never made public shows of affection, but they didn’t have arguments either and they seemed content, but who knew what went on behind closed doors. She didn’t want to tell the police what she had seen. Annie was probably her closest friend on the island and if the police turned up to question Pete, and Annie found out why, it would be a terrible shock, even if there turned out to be nothing in it. Eve didn’t want to cause her any unnecessary suffering.
And if she found out that I had gone to the police, she would be upset that I hadn’t given her this information first. We’re good friends and she’d expect me to tell her, but I reckon that if I did, she’d be mad at me as well. Nobody likes the bearer of bad news. Still, I can’t imagine Pete having an affair, nor killing anyone. He did help David save me when my house had been set on fire by that crazy woman, Phyllis Baldwin. No, it’s better that I say nothing.
However, Eve was unable to sit still. She kept thinking about Lucy lying dead in the cave, and as much as Eve disliked the woman, she hadn’t deserved to die.
“Mind you, Pete can get quite irritable and snappy over nothing at all,” she finally said. “I remember Christmas Day. He was quite unpleasant to me when I was upset that Betty believed I’d killed Jennifer. Well, perhaps I should tell the police about him after all. I’m pretty certain he didn’t do it, but Dimitris needs to have the facts. And as I said to Jane, the police will keep their source of information a secret...................What is wrong with me? I’m usually so decisive. What do you reckon, Portia?”