Bleeding Expection by Ada Andrews | #TheWattys2023

CHAPTER THERTEEN

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

STRATOS

I was staring at the ceiling, one hand around Daphne's waist, the other behind my head. I was wondering if I should carry on with the search. We got stuck on the surveillance of the three suspects that led nowhere. Two of them had strong motives for becoming murderers. Still, they weren't in any way involved in the psycho's case. How on earth would Dionysis interrogate them? On what pretext? There were several pieces of the puzzle that needed to fall into place.

I looked at the bedside table. Our cellulars had been switched off since the previous dawn. They had run out of battery at the airport, so it suited our book. We kept them turned off, so that we could chill out and enjoy our trip. I slowly unclasped my hands from her, so as not to wake her up, stood up and, as I recharged the mobile, it switched on. I found more than fifteen unanswered calls from Elias. What had happened? I got hold of the charger, sneaked into the restroom, and plugged it in to call him.

"Can you tell me why the hell your mobile was switched off, you moron?!" he yelled when he answered my call.

I cracked the door an inch to check on Daphne. Elias's voice was so loud, it could raise the dead. I snorted as I closed it behind me. She was fast asleep. She must have been exhausted.

"Don't shout," I warned him in a low voice. "We ran out of battery at Paris Airport," I informed him. "What's the matter?" I asked.

"New developments. I mean I have some news 'cause the police are a bunch of dummies. They're completely ignorant," he confessed.

I raised my eyebrows, silently nodding my head. He always thought the world of the police. "Tell me before Daphne wakes up, pal," I urged him.

"A few days before you left, there was a news report on the psycho-killer. From that moment, there was silence. I greased some palms in the underworld, but I didn't find out much. The lunatic has gained currency. You've only got two options in the underworld: you either support or fear. That cut no ice with me, though. I went back to search through the journalist archives. I spent three days in there. I wanted to go deep into the case. I came across something that struck me as odd," he explained.

"There's terror in the underworld, my friend. I saw that when I went out for a few nighttime photoshoots. I agree with you," I admitted honestly. There was terror in Joram's eyes, although he had been working with me for years. "What did you find in the archives?" I asked out of curiosity.

"In Warsaw in 1985, just before the end of the Cold War, two people were murdered. The case was never solved. The pattern of the murder is similar to the way the psycho kills and leaves his victims behind," he informed me in a serious tone. "It has nothing to do with the BDSM ring, Stratos. He wants to make a statement, but he kills for other reasons. He doesn't enjoy fucking and torturing women. The solution is different. My instinct tells me we have to look into this murder in Warsaw," he stressed.

I sat on the rim of the bathtub. I scratched my beard. "How can they be linked, Elias?" I wondered in puzzlement.

"Why not? Who can guarantee that this bloke is Greek through and through, buddy?" he asked me in reply. "He may have relocated or he was a Greek who lived abroad and came back to Greece. Criminals make mistakes in their first murders. He was organised. Who can tell whether he practised quite a few things before he embarked on his criminal activities? Maybe it's an old story. Even if he left some traces there, we'll never identify them here in Greece. Especially if he has no criminal record here and never even dropped by a police station for a parking ticket," he stated.