The Book of Extraordinary Amateur Sleuth and Private Eye Stories by Maxim Jakubowski

Author:Maxim Jakubowski [Jakubowski, Maxim]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781642500790
Publisher: Mango Media
Published: 2019-08-11T15:55:05+00:00

Third Murder, Naxos, Greece

It was April the 12th before the killer struck again, this time in Greece, which confirmed my theory that he was moving down the map. A Naxos harbor drinking hole called the Queen of Clubs was the murder scene, down a steep half-flight of rocky stairs into what was generously called the wine cellar. A range of photos on a vacationer’s blog (“take a look, we were in this bar only last week, and now someone’s been murdered here”) showed me that the basement was more of a pantry, with a vat of olives, a few bottles of wine on the racks, and bunches of herbs hanging off the ceiling. The only place the body could have fitted was on the sandy floor.

Definitely part of the pattern. First the Queen of Hearts, then the Queen of Diamonds, now the Queen of Clubs.

As expected, the victim was an unidentified woman, the cause of death stabbing through the heart with a replica of a Greek kopis. I looked it up. A kopis was an ancient Greek short sword, single-edge, used both for cutting and for thrusting.

The news article mentioned a pack of cards found clutched in the woman’s hand as a teaser.

I emailed Nikolay. He had no contacts in the Greek police and couldn’t afford to take any more time off to travel to Naxos. He said he was sorry. Not nearly as sorry as I was, I told him.

Back on the home front, one of my clients got impatient after my three-day invigilation of her husband revealed no extramarital affairs. She suggested I should speed things along and use my female charms to entrap him.

“He’s going overseas tomorrow,” she told me. “A conference in Europe. Greece, I think. Or maybe Turkey. I wasn’t really listening. One of the islands, anyway.”

My ears pricked up at the mention of Greece-I-think-or-maybe-Turkey, despite my moral objection to her plan of action. She’d buy me a business-class plane ticket, I’d get her husband’s attention in the airport lounge, check into the same hotel.

“You don’t need to sleep with him if you don’t feel like it,” she continued. “I certainly don’t. Just get the intent recorded on your phone. In his job, he has to be squeaky clean. Any whiff of a scandal, and he’s out on his arse.”

“How will that help you? If he’s unemployed?”

She looked at me like I was a half-wit. “Naturally, I wouldn’t take the recording to his board of directors. I’d play it for him and make sure I get a fair divorce settlement.”

Somehow, I had a hunch our opinions differed on what was considered a fair divorce settlement, especially if blackmail were involved.

The trip to Greece-Turkey sounded exactly like what my serial killer investigation needed. Unfortunately, I despise blackmailers only a little less than I despise serial killers, so it was a no-deal.

No good deed goes unpunished. My refusal cost me the spousal invigilation contract as well.

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