Page 57 of Deep Blue Lies
“You were in charge of the investigation into the murders?”
“One murder,” he corrects. “One murder, one suicide. But yes. I led the case. A horrible business.”
Maria nods. “Perhaps that’s a place to begin. I’m interested in the rumours – I’m sure you’ve heard them – about whether Jason Wright really was responsible, or whether there was any doubt. Is that something you can speak about?”
Papadakis is still for a moment. “I can tell you our report concluded the former.”
“But was that really the truth?”
He sits back, holding his cup and saucer and taking a sip of tea. “In just about every investigation I ever participated in, I could never be completely sure what the truth was.”
Maria blinks at him, and it seems she’s unsure what to say next.
“Forgive me, Maria, it’s lovely to see you, but I still don’t exactly understand the purpose of the visit,” Papadakis continues, the smile on his face thinning very slightly. “Are you able to explain your sudden interest in the resort, and what happened there all those years ago?”
She thinks a moment longer, then turns to me.
“Ava was born on the island, just before the resort closed,” Maria replies. “Her mother is English and worked at the hotel. She was sent home after the murders.” She stops.
“I see.”
“Maybe you’d remember her? She has a photo.”
I open my bag and pull out the photograph of my mother and Imogen. I show it to Papadakis, who takes it from me and studies it closely.
“Their names?”
“Karen Whitaker. With the blonde hair. The other girl is Imogen Grant.”
Papadakis studies it a while longer, then shakes his head.
“No, I’m afraid not.” He hands it back to me.
“The rumours about the crime,” Maria continues. “For years I’ve heard that drugs might have been involved? That some aspects of the crime scene didn’t make sense?”
He’s about to answer this when the puppy sits up, shaking its head so that its little ears flap noisily. When it stops Sophia apologises on its behalf. “Oh my God, I didn’t know they did that.”
“You’re not familiar with puppies?” Papadakis asks her.
“Sophia’s always wanted a dog,” Maria cuts in. “But we’ve never had one. My husband was allergic.”
He’s thoughtful a moment, then nods. “I was very sorry to hearabout your husband passing away,” he says next, and Maria looks surprised, but smiles quietly.
“Thank you.”
Then Papadakis turns back to her question. “It was a high-profile crime. Rumours were inevitable.”
“But there were problems? With the murder-suicide explanation?”
“Such as?”
“I’m not sure,” – she looks down at the ground – “perhaps that it’s unusual for a man to kill his girlfriend, then himself, but to leave a baby alive?”
“It’s not usual – thankfully – that a man kills his girlfriend at all.”
“But it does happen?” Maria presses. “Even in a quiet place such as Alythos?”
“Infrequently.”
