The Divided Child (42 page)

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Authors: Ekaterine Nikas

BOOK: The Divided Child
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“She
hasn’t returned from the dead,” I snapped, “she just didn’t bother to let
anybody know she was alive.
 
And
yes, she is definitely who she says she is.”
 
I added under my breath, “Unfortunately.”

           
“You
do not like her much,” Maria said with a faint smile.

           
“No,”
I admitted.

           
“The
mistress does not either, I think.
 
Perhaps you will go speak with her, Thesponis?
 
She was very upset when she returned from town, and now that
Helen has disappeared --”

           
"What?"
I exclaimed, startled.
 
"Since
when?"

           
Maria
shrugged.
 
"Nobody knows.
 
Aphrodite says she last saw her a
little before noon."

           
"All
right, Maria.
 
I’ll talk with Mrs.
Redfield.”

           
Maria
looked relieved, but my thoughts were whirling.
 
First Michael, then Helen.
 
Was there a connection?
 
I remembered Helen's pale face when I'd threatened to tell
about her clandestine meeting in Koussaki.
 
Was that the reason she’d fled?

           
I
had to knock several times on Demetra’s door before she responded with an
impatient command to enter.
 
She
obviously had not been expecting me; her mouth tightened in an uneasy line when
she turned to see who had entered the room.

           
We
regarded each other in uncomfortable silence.
 
“I came to see how you were doing,” I finally said.

           
Her
finely-shaped eyebrows rose skeptically.

           
"After
all, you've had a pretty tough day," I added, realizing it was no more
than the truth.
 
The dark smudges
under her eyes had developed into deep hollows, and the beautiful line of her
jaw sagged wearily.
 
She wore no
makeup, and the olive skin of her face looked colorless and wan.
 

           
At
my words, a flicker of surprise appeared in her dark eyes.

           
"It
must have been quite a shock to find out she was alive that way," I
continued sympathetically, hoping to forge a bond out of the one emotion we
both shared: our dislike of Elizabeth.

           
"A
shock?" she repeated slowly.
 
"Yes, I suppose it can be called that.
 
It is not every day one meets a ghost, and this is a ghost I
have hated for several years now.
 
Ah, now I have shocked you. Yet, how else could I feel, when the man I
loved burned for someone else?"

           
I
stared at her.
 
"You mean even
after she walked out on him, William still loved her?"

           
"Did
you not see them today?" Demetra replied bitterly.
 
"Even my own brother is not immune
. . ."
 
Her voice trailed
away.

           
Biting
my lip, I thought of Geoffrey's strained face and of Elizabeth, in her apricot
peignoir, smiling her dazzling smile at the room service waiter.
 
Of course, Geoffrey still loved
her.
 
He'd probably never stopped.

           
"I
thought it might change when we had a child of our own," Demetra
continued, "but while she, who never wanted to be a mother, was able to
give William a son, I, who burned and ached and prayed to be one, could
not."

           
I
remembered the card I'd found in Demetra's purse.
 
"You saw doctors?"

           
She
tossed her head scornfully.
 
"Doctors and doctors and more doctors.
 
Not one of them could find what was wrong with me."

           
"What
about the day your husband died?"

           
"What?"

           
"Didn't
you go to see one of those doctors on the day of your husband's accident?"

           
Demetra
shook her head dismissively.
 
"You are mistaken.
 
I
finished with the doctors in January; I saw no one in March."
 
Suddenly, her eyes narrowed.
 
"Have you been speaking with
Helen?"

           
"Strange
how she's disappeared, isn't it?" I replied evasively.

           
Luckily,
she was easily distracted.
 
She
nodded.
 
"First the boy and
now my maid.
 
Who will vanish next,
I wonder?"

           
"Do
not fear, dear sister, it shall not be me," quipped Spiro from the
doorway.

           
As
we both looked around in surprise, he crossed to Demetra’s side and slid his
arm around her shoulders.
 
She
leaned gratefully toward him.
 

Spiridonaki
,”
she murmurred softly, “I am glad you have come.”

           
Spiro
smiled down at her, then lifted his head and regarded me coolly.
 
“You will excuse us, Christine?
 
My sister and I have much to talk
about.”

           
Frustrated
by his timing, I reluctantly ceded the field and retreated to my room.

           
I
lay on my bed for some time, staring up at the ceiling and trying to make sense
of the chaotic jumble of facts and speculation that was spinning around in my
head.
 
Finally, I grew too
impatient to lie still and went in search of pen and paper.
 

           
I
decided to make up a chart titled “List of Suspects in Michael’s
Disappearance.”
 
I divided the page
into five columns and labeled the last four: “Opportunity”, “Motive”, “Alibi”,
and “Incriminating Facts.”
 
Down
the first column I wrote names.
  

           
The
first name I wrote was Spiro’s.
 
Opportunity
?
 
Almost certainly.
 
No one knew where he was at the time of
Michael’s disappearance, not even his sister.
 
Motive?
 
My guess was: fear of exposure.
 
If Spiro had killed William Redfield and then learned Michael was home
that night, he might fear Michael could incriminate him.
 
Alibi?
 
Spiro had none.
 
Not for the attack on Michael, nor for Michael’s disappearance, nor for
the death of William Redfield.
 
Incriminating
Facts.
 
Spiro needed money
badly -- a lot of it.
 
He’d also gone
to great lengths to hide the fact that he’d been in England on the day of
William Redfield’s death.

           
Next
came Demetra.
 
Opportunity?
 
I wasn’t sure.
 
I’d seen her at breakfast a little
before eight.
 
Michael had
disappeared at six-thirty.
 
Was an

hour-and-a-half long enough to lure
Michael out of the hospital, stash him somewhere, and then drive back to
Ithaki
?
 
I didn’t know.
 
Motive?
 
Probably the same as her brother, fear
that Michael might be able to incriminate her in her husband’s death.
 
Alibi?
 
It didn’t look like it, though perhaps Maria or Aphrodite
could provide her with one.
 
Incriminating
Facts.
 
I still felt that the
appointment card I’d found in her purse was important, but I wasn’t sure how.

           
I
added Paul next.
 
Opportunity?
 
If he was on the mainland tending his
mother, it didn’t look like it, but ferries crossed from Igoumenitsa almost
hourly.
 
Motive?
 
Unknown, unless he was being paid to
perform Demetra’s dirty work for her.
 
Alibi?
 
Probably.
 
Incriminating
Facts.
 
Again, I couldn’t come
up with anything concrete, only
 
a
nebulous feeling I had that Paul always seemed to be in the middle of things at
critical moments.
 
He was the one
who had driven Michael into town the day he was attacked at the old Fort, he
was the one who had arrived late the night Michael had almost been run down, he
had already been in swim trunks and dripping wet when Michael had been attacked
while swimming, and he was conveniently absent from the scene when Michael had
disappeared.

           
Helen
was a longshot, but I wrote her down anyway.
 
Opportunity?
 
I didn’t know.
 
I would have
to check with Aphrodite and find out if she had seen Helen earlier in the
day.
 
Motive?
 
Unknown.
 
Perhaps she thought she was protecting Spiro?
 
Alibi?
 
I didn’t know.
 
Incriminating
Facts.
 
Her clandestine visit
with Geoffrey in Koussaki was yet to be explained, and her sudden disappearance
the same day as Michael seemed suspicious.

           
Robert
constituted an even greater longshot.
 
Opportunity?
 
It
didn’t look like it.
 
Motive
?
Since Geoffrey seemed confident he wasn’t involved in William’s death, I
couldn’t think of one.
 
Alibi?
 
Yes.
 
Incriminating Facts.
 
Only that he was the one person I didn’t have any reason to
suspect, which was, of couse, suspicious.
 
I grinned as I wrote this last down.

           
I
debated for some time putting the next name down: Elizabeth.
 
Opportunity
?
 
Possible.
 
It depended on when she had arrived on Corfu.
 
Motive
?
 
I couldn’t think of one.
 
She might not be the maternal type, but
I couldn’t really imagine her trying to hurt Michael.
 
Alibi
? Unknown.
 
Incriminating Facts
.
 
Besides the fact that she was gorgeous and seemed to mesmerize every man
she met?
 
I grimaced at the
page.
 
Only that she had kept her
survival of a deadly plane crash secret.
 

           
Finally
I had to write down the name I had been dreading: Geoffrey.
 
Opportunity
?
 
Very possible.
 
Geoffrey had lied to Mavros about when
he’d returned to the island and about his movements the night before; it was perfectly
possible he had also lied about being in his hotel room at the time of
Michael’s disappearance.
 
Motive
?
 
Money.
 
He would inherit the Redfield millions if Michael died.
 
Alibi
?
 
None.
 
Incriminating
Facts.
 
I was trying to decide
what to write down in this column, when my eyes strayed back to Geoffrey’s
motive.
 

           
A
sudden lightness filled me.
 
I had
it all wrong.
 

           
What
had Robert said?
 
Michael’s heir
would be his closest blood relative.
 
We had all assumed that was Geoffrey, but that had been before anyone
knew Elizabeth was alive.

           
Elizabeth,
not Geoffrey, was Michael’s closest blood relative, and Elizabeth, not
Geoffrey, would be his heir.
 

           
Geoffrey
had no motive to harm Michael.
 
What was more, he had
known
he had no motive before he returned
to Corfu and before someone tried to drown Michael, because he’d already been
to see Elizabeth and knew she was alive.
 

           
I
closed my eyes, feeling a bit giddy.
 

           
Suddenly
there was a knock on my door.
 
I
quickly folded closed the paper I’d been writing on and slipped it into the
pocket of my skirt.
 
It wasn’t a
moment too soon; without waiting for me to answer, Spiro turned the knob and
walked in.

           
“So,
Christine, you are still here, and it seems the sword I thought I had
eliminated still hangs above my head.
 
The day has not turned out as either of us planned, has it?”

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