Crying Blue Murder
Mavros went out into the street, shouldering
his satchel that contained water, tanning lotion, guidebook and mobile
phone. He'd also taken Rosa's photo and card, as wells as the diskette
and photos he'd found in the chimney. The morning was well progressed
and the sun was shining down the east-facing street with plenty of
vigour. He put his sunglasses on and walked down the uneven surface.
There was a small spray of hibiscus, already withering, lying against
a bottom step. He wondered if it had come from the funeral procession
as it meandered round the village, someone's offering to the young
people who had died. At the corner where the sign pointed to 'Kambos
2km', he turned and walked up the gradually increasing slope.
He was passed by a succession of vehicles - battered pick-ups, white
Japanese vans, ancient Rotavators towing mini-trailers and filling
the air with their din. But Mavros wasn't hitching. This time he wanted
to complete the journey on foot. It wasn't far and he felt it was
time that he experienced the island's topography close up. He often
did this when he was working on a case. It was one of the reasons
that he walked around Athens so much. He reckoned that only by measuring
out the place you were in could you begin to decode it - and Trigono
was one of those multilayered locations that needed a lot of decoding.
He looked southwards to the massif, the bare flanks glowing silvery
brown in the morning light and the great ridge standing between the
peaks like an impenetrable wall. Beyond it the young couple had drowned
in a relatively calm sea. He wondered idly if anyone could have seen
what happened from the hills. But a witness would surely have come
forward by now.
As he walked on up the thin layer of asphalt to the low ridge that
separated the north of the island from the central plain, Mavros looked
to his right. The conical hill he'd seen from the cemetery road stood
out against the southern extremity of Andiparos across the waves.
According to the map that prominence was called Korakas, The Crow.
A vision of black birds pecking at corpses rose up unbidden before
him. He twitched his head. Trigono was doing disturbing things to