Murder On Display_A riveting, stand-alone murder mystery that keeps you guessing until the shocking end by Luke Christodoulou

Author:Luke Christodoulou [Christodoulou, Luke]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-12-24T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

On Board

I stood outside the thick door of the ship Captain’s office. Emphasis on the thick part as I could hear nothing from the on-going conversation inside. The engine clanks and loud waves splashing, echoing from outside, did not help either. They were powerful enough to cover the teacher’s cries as Nick and Katerina discussed with the Captain the ‘messy situation below’.

I wore my brown trousers and a white shirt on top, newly-bought by Tracy. No one would take a beach-wearing, middle age man with no badge, seriously. Technically, I had no authority. I was on medical leave until further notice. Either of cure or of death.

The teacher came out first; the door closed abruptly behind her. Nick Pavlou slammed it closed while wiping his sweaty, red forehead. His perfect, black hair having surrendered to a massive amount of hair gel, did not move an inch from the air wave he created.

‘Excuse me,’ I said, approaching the school teacher, who looked paler that a white sheet in a detergent commercial. ‘Mrs. Anne, is it?’

She turned towards the direction of my voice and wiped her nose with her magnolia handkerchief, the one with the sewed-in message of love; a present from students past. ‘Oh, you’re the gentleman from next door. You mentioned you work for the police?’

‘Captain Costa Papacosta,’ I said, extending my right hand. Her trembling hand was cold compared to the hot surroundings.

‘How are the... authorities, handling things?’ I asked, trying to sound casual, just a caring passenger and did my best to not mock the word authorities.

‘Oh, the security man said to not discuss anything with anyone.’

‘I’m sure he did.’

‘Can I ask you a rather sensitive question, Mrs. Anne? Have you noticed any form of bullying among your pupils?’

She took a step back, her right hand journeyed up, scratched her neck and played with her silver necklace that like a line of washing held the diamond letters of her name. A present too expensive to be from a student, more likely from her other half.

‘That is a deep discussion, Captain. One I would not mind having with you, if not my fear that you are implying another pupil did this to hapless Holly.’

‘I never imply anything, ma’am. I check facts. I found a poem in her room about bullying. Could mean nothing,’ I replied and took out my phone. ‘Did you teach Holly? Is this her handwriting?’

Mrs. Anne searched for her reading glasses in her shirts’ top pocket, then patted her black shorts’ pockets. ‘Where are my darn glasses when I need them?’

My eyes were focused on the round-lensed glasses comfortably nested in her cauliflower, auburn-turning-white hair. I coughed and pointed with my bushy eyebrows. Actually, since chemotherapy, they had thinned out. The only loss of hair on my body, I can list on the positive side.

‘Silly me,’ she said, relocating them to her eyes. ‘Yep, that’s definitely Holly’s. It took quite a few stern recommendations for her to give up decorating her capital Is. She complained

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