The Devil Takes Half by Leta Serafim Read Free Book Online Page B

along with your sister?”
    â€œ She’s not his sister,” Titina Argentis interrupted. “They were siblings by marriage only.”
    Her hostility surprised him. Patronas turned back to Antonis Argentis. “So you didn’t see her?”
    Again, his mother answered for him. “Neither of us saw Eleni very much. I tried. You can ask Antonis. I invited her to join us in London countless times. But she always refused. ‘Work,’ she told me. ‘I have to work.’ ”
    * * *
    The guesthouse where Eleni Argentis had lived was located at the back of the estate. Antonis unlocked the door and pushed it open.
    â€œ Whole place is hers. I’ll be outside if you need anything.”
    Patronas walked quickly through the house, opening and closing doors, trying to get a sense of who Eleni Argentis was. He doubted her death was a crime of passion, but who could say at this point? She’d been a beautiful woman and rich besides. The possibilities were endless. Perhaps she’d been arguing with a lover and Petros had intervened.
    There was only one bed in the house with a simple white quilt draped across it. Above it hung an icon of the Virgin framed in gold. No other decoration. It was a severe space, monastic. The clothes in the closet were neatly arranged, jeans mostly and an assortment of cotton shirts. A laptop was sitting on the table in the kitchen across from a massive antique china closet that housed dishes and table linens. Patronas removed the dishes and began tapping on the wood in the back. He could tell from the design that the chest was from the last century, maybe even earlier. Occasionally these old pieces held secret compartments that had been used to hide Greek books during the time of the Ottomans. Eleni Argentis’ held a packet of letters. He opened one. Written in English, the scrawl masculine and nearly illegible.
    The chief officer called Papa Michalis on his cellphone. “I’m at Eleni’s house and I found some letters, written in English. Do you know who she was involved with?”
    â€œ There was someone at one time. I asked her about it once and she said, ‘I’m done with all that.’ When I asked her what she meant, she went and got a journal off the shelf and read a passage to me. It was black leather and looked expensive. Sometimes she wrote wrote poetry, she said. It was after dinner and she’d had a lot of wine. I don’t remember the passage exactly. It wasn’t a poem, something about how ‘waiting defined women, waiting for love, waiting for life.’ ”
    â€œ What does that mean?”
    â€œ I am a man of the cloth, Chief Officer. What do I know of women?”
    After Patronas found the letters, he went through the house again, emptying out the pockets of Eleni’s clothes, checking the undersides of the tables and chairs. The kitchen held nothing. He carefully inspected the lone suitcase he found in the back of the closet. After he finished, he searched the shelf for the notebook of poetry the priest had mentioned. He also gathered up Colette’s autobiography, a textbook on abnormal psychology, and the laptop computer. He stuffed everything in the suitcase and carried it out of the house.
    Titina Argentis was standing on the lawn, talking to her son about a car he was apparently intent upon buying. “Finished, Chief Officer?” she called.
    â€œ This was just a preliminary search. A crime team will go through the house more thoroughly tomorrow.”
    Though this displeased her, she said nothing.
    â€œ By the way, Kyria Argentis, who inherits?”
    â€œ I suppose I do,” she answered as if it were of no matter. Money, like working, was a thing she couldn’t be bothered with. “And Antonis, of course. He was like a son to my husband. Themis adopted him formally when he was ten years old. He wanted Antonis to have his name, to inherit the business when he was gone.