katara E-Book

Timur E. Simsek

• Herausgeber: BoD - Books on Demand
• Kategorie: Abenteuer, Thriller, Horror
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 140

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025

Beschreibung

Inspector Dionisis Lagos is drowning in shadows, none heavier than his own conscience. While basking in the opulence bestowed upon him for solving a recent crime, he must now come to terms with his shortcomings. But Milos is no sanctuary; it is a tomb waiting to be filled. Darkness seeps into the island once more when young boys start vanishing without a trace. Whispers of a killer spread like poison, leaving only fear in their wake. As more bodies turn up, Lagos is dragged into a labyrinth of horror, pursuing a murderer so elusive, they might as well be a phantom.

Leseprobe

the music is lost,

the words are gone.

all that remains

is the silence of losses drawn.

Table of Contents

PROLOGUE

BROTHERS AT HEART

OF PAIN AND SORROW

THE BOATING CLUB

THE PASSING OF TIME

LACHRYMOSE

A FAMILY’S OMINOUS PAST

BENEATH SHALLOW SURFACES

CLUES

ANOTHER MISSING CHILD

POWER MOVES

REVELATIONS

THIRD TIME'S THE CHARM

TO PINPOINT A MURDERER

OF DEEPLY BURIED SECRETS

DIRTY HARRY

EPILOGUE

PROLOGUE

Welcome back to Milos!

It was pitch black outside. Darkness shrouded the island and gave the air a chilly feel. Sage brushes rustled in the light wind, and owls hooted their nightly songs. Waves rippled against old cobblestones, from which the harbor had been built centuries ago. Light footsteps hurried along the narrow streets as moored boats groaned under the movement of the ocean. Somewhere in the distance, church bells chimed. From a handful of houses, golden light spilled out into the night. For the most part, the islanders were asleep. All but two brothers. One considerably younger than the other. As they went along, they glanced around every corner before making a turn. It seemed as if the entire world was on their heels.

“I don’t know about this,” the younger brother said wearily.

With his meager ten years, he was young enough to still be scared of the dark.

“It’ll be fine. No one will know,” the other reassured.

At around eighteen, the older brother still carried the youthful arrogance that made men fearless.

“How can you be so sure?”

“Just trust me, okay?”

The boy stayed silent, and so it was taken as a sign of compliance. The pair made a few more turns here and there until they came upon a house painted in dark red. Above its door, a sign read: Boating Club.

“This is the place?” the eighteen-year-old asked. His accomplice nodded.

“Check the windows!”

Silently, the younger sibling glanced into the house, trying to be as vigilant as possible so as not to be detected.

“See anything?”

The boy shook his head.

“The coast is clear then. Let’s move!” Without further ado, the older brother took out a lockpick and inserted it into the keyhole. Fidgeting around for a brief moment, they waited tensely until a clicking sort of noise could be heard. With a victorious smile, the intruder let the door swing back. Jerking his head to the left, he ordered his companion to step inside.

Once past the threshold, the pair went down the corridor before opening a door on the lefthand side. They didn’t look for anything else or whether someone was upstairs.

“Is this the door to the basement?” the older brother asked.

“It is.”

The two of them had found what they were looking for.

“Here’s how we’re going to do it. While I go down there to take care of business, you go back to the front door and stand guard.”

“And what if someone comes our way, Abi? How do I alarm you?”

“I noticed a vase standing right next to the entrance. If someone is coming towards us, toss it over. The noise will alarm me.”

“And then what?”

“You get the hell out of here! I’ll do the same, just from out of the basement. We’ll link back up at home.”

Having understood the plan, and with trembling knees, the brothers shook hands and went their separate ways. One went down to the basement, the other back to the door.

In the end, the little boy couldn’t remember for how long he had been standing by the entrance, but when he got there, fog had already crept in and taken hold of the port. Anxiously, his eyes surveilled the plaza, the boats, the houses, and the hallway behind him. Twice, a fluffy grey cat made him jump out of his skin. This entire plan had been a stupid idea from the beginning. But he could never deny his older brother. So, instead, he had been talked into this madness. Silently, he cursed his lack of courage. Having taken his mind off of what he was supposed to do, the kid let himself slide down against the doorframe and stare at the doormat. He was so deep in thought he almost entirely missed the dark-hooded figure having emerged out of the fog. Startled back into reality by the sudden hissing of another cat, the boy looked up and spotted the shadow lurking in the dark. All the way over on the other side of the port, right by a yellow boat, the figure carried a gigantic bag over their shoulders. Intrigued, the child watched closely. What on earth was this person doing? What were they carrying? The shadow continued on with their bag for another couple of meters until they found a big enough niche between two boats. There, and without hesitation, the person suddenly threw the large item into the water. In an effort to see what was happening, the kid got up and moved closer. A fatal mistake. In his mindlessness, he tossed over the exact vase his older brother had mentioned earlier. Alarmed by the noise, the shadow at the other end of the port stopped dead in their tracks. Head jerking up, they immediately detected the boy. Afraid he had given himself away, the youngster ran into the boating club to hide. After what felt like ages, he peeked back out, but by then, the shadow had vanished into thin air…

BROTHERS AT HEART

Inspector Dionisis Lagos was looking at the dead boy’s eyes or whatever had been left of them. Selim glanced over his shoulder, a majestic frown on his face. The curly-haired Turk was clearly disapproving of this horrific find. The Inspector and his companion had been out boating the entire day when suddenly they got themselves involved in a tragedy. But every nightmare has its origins…

Their boat whipped faintly in the waves of the turquoise sea. The engine was peacefully humming along. From the two men lying comfortably on the cushioned deck, faint smoke emanated. The smell of ‘dirt’ blended with the scent of saltwater, grilled meat, and wine. Dirt, Lat. Milosia Purpurea Serenitatis, was a purple plant native to Milos, commonly referred to as dirt. When consumed, it induced a state of profound euphoria, though it occasionally brought on hallucinations and severe depression. Originally discovered in the rugged hills of Milos, it quickly became a much sought-after substance. The plant’s strong, pungent aroma was unmistakable – one that lingered in the air like an ancient secret.

Initially having set out in Adamantas, Dionisis Lagos and Selim spent the first couple of hours driving along the coast until they ended up in the shallow, colorful waters right outside the city of Pollonia. There, they stayed for the majority of the day, enjoying nothing more but the company of good books and the connection of brothers at heart.

Lagos exhaled a long, slow breath, watching the faint wisps of smoke curl into the evening air. The warmth of the day lingered on his skin, and for a while, he simply let himself bask in the moment, the scent of grilled meat and saltwater mixing in the breeze.

“How come you haven’t found yourself a wife yet?” he inquired.

Selim pondered over the question for a little while before answering:

“For whatever reason, I don’t seem to have what women in this part of the world are looking for in a man.”

“Nonsense! You’re just not putting yourself out there enough.”

“Is that so? And what about you, Abi? Why haven’t you settled down?”

“There are only two things every man must truly love; wine and women. But that doesn’t mean you need to surround yourself with one or the other constantly. I’ve found my peace in solitude.” Selim laughed heartedly. He had expected exactly that type of answer. With deep wrinkles on his forehead, Dionisis Lagos suddenly leaned forward and sincerely asked:

“Would you consider me to be one of your dearest friends?”

At the same time, he took a considerable puff of his ‘drift’. Drift was the Melian slang for a hand-rolled cigarette containing dirt, the purple herb that sent the islanders into fits of euphoria and haze.

“You’re more than that, Abi. You’re my brother!”

Lagos was touched by his friend’s statement, for whom he felt the same way. He handed Selim the drift before leaning back into the cushions. He could feel his mind spinning.

“So, how does it feel to be the new big celebrity on the island?” Selim wondered, a teasing glint in his eye. Lagos let out a short chuckle, but the smile faded almost as quickly as it had come. He took another hit of his drift, exhaling through his nose.

He had never cared for attention. Yet, a few weeks after solving the tragic death of Stefanie Sigmund, a Swiss tourist, and after unearthing a long-lost relic called the apple of Hephaestus, Inspector Dionisis Lagos had been awarded the Medal of Outstanding Honorable Services by the Melian police force. Additionally, he had been promoted to Detective Inspector, which was a never-before-seen position. Upon receiving said medal and title in front of thousands of cheering spectators on the island, he was also awarded a mansion on top of the Mellides hill, from where he would overlook the entirety of Adamantas and its outskirts.

“I wouldn’t call it that,” he muttered. His friend smirked. “Oh? A medal, a mansion, a new title – if that’s not celebrity status, I don’t know what is.”

Lagos hesitated, rolling the drift between his fingers. “I didn’t ask for any of this,” he admitted, his voice quieter this time. “I just did what I had to do. I solved a case. That’s all. I never wanted to be special or different. And yet…” He sighed. “They act like I won some grand prize. Her death is not my glory.” Selim studied him for a moment, then nodded, as if understanding the weight his friend carried. With puffy red eyes, legs as heavy as solid rocks, and a mind floating aimlessly in the clouds, their conversation could have lingered in that heaviness, but the sudden jerk under Lagos’ seat snapped them both out of it.

“A fish just hooked!”

In his somewhat inebriated state of mind, he started pulling on the rod, but to no avail. It was only a puny fish, barely the size of a toddler’s hand. Disappointed, he untangled the animal and threw it back into the ocean. Selim laughed.

“Why get upset about a fish? We have plenty of souvlaki over there,” and with that, the young Turk pointed towards the grill in the back. Sizzling and letting off steam, the meat was cooking away.

“You’re right!”

Lagos shook his head, then let out a breath of laughter, his earlier frustration momentarily forgotten. As he helped himself to some pita bread, tzatziki, and meat, Selim suddenly got a phone call. “Who might this be?” he wondered out loud and started fidgeting around himself to find his cell. After a brief instance of struggling, Selim put the phone to his ear and said:

“Merhaba, this is Selim speaking.” Lagos couldn’t hear who was on the other end, but whoever it was, it certainly wasn’t to his friend’s liking. The young man’s face turned from a happy smile to an expression of concern.

“We’ll be there as soon as possible,” Selim promised and, with that, hung up the phone. Lagos’ mind had sobered up immediately. He knew something was wrong. Alarmed, he waited for his friend to tell him who he had just been talking to.

“It was my cousin, Hakan. He asked for our help!”

“Regarding what?”

“His son has just been found dead by the harbor.”

Upon their return to the marina of Adamantas, they noticed a huge commotion by the food market right off the docking stations. A large crowd of onlookers had formed around a fountain depicting Poseidon, the ancient god of the sea. Somewhere, not too far off in the distance, a jazz band was playing their uplifting beats to the dining guests of a pristine hotel.

Arduously, the Detective Inspector made his way through the mob while Selim stayed back to finish docking their boat. He would catch up to Lagos just moments before the latter could breach the safety barrier built by the police around the deceased boy's body. But for now, Dionisis Lagos struggled to get through to the corpse. The pesty gawkers immediately recognized the ‘grand Detective Inspector’ and naturally wanted to know if he had been assigned to the tragedy that must’ve occurred. Staying silent, Lagos had to forcefully get over to the statue of Poseidon. Once there, he realized that this was not where the body was. It merely presented itself as the best viewing point for the spectacle. The boy actually lay all the way over by the prominent hotel.

The corpse was heavily guarded by the police force, who tried to keep those spectators at arm’s length, who were just a bit too nosey. As they recognized the Detective Inspector, they made way. Right then, Selim caught up to him. Upon entering the secluded bubble, Lagos immediately noticed a crying couple kneeling next to the body. They must’ve been the parents. On the other side of the cadaver, a female forensics officer was conducting her research. Timidly, Lagos was on the verge of approaching the parents, but before he could, the tearful man recognized Selim and pulled him in a tight hug, sparing the Detective Inspector the need to initiate a conversation. Afterward, Selim hugged the woman. As they did so, they exchanged a few words in their native language. Lagos didn’t understand much, as his Turkish skills were ridiculously poor.

“This is my cousin, Hakan Yavuz,” Selim explained and lay his hand on the man’s back, “and this is his wife, Aylin.”

“Then this must be your boy?”

“Yes, this is our son, Kazim.”

Aylin broke down in tears again. Naturally, the severity of this situation affected her beyond means of explanation. Lagos bowed his head in condolence before kneeling down to inspect the dead boy more thoroughly. Kazim’s eyes had been gouged out, his arms, legs and spine shattered. It appeared as if someone had violently thrown the body against the steps upon which he lay now. He was arranged like a sack of potatoes in the basement. Behind the boy’s head was no blood. The entire scene indicated to Lagos that the victim must’ve died somewhere else. What the Detective Inspector particularly took notice of, however, wasn’t the fatality of the crime but rather how it was presented. Even though the boy lay as if he had been passively dismissed, the dead body was dressed fashionably. His hair had been done, and his shoes polished. Lagos turned his head to face the grieving parents:

“Are those your son’s clothes?”

“No. We’ve never seen those before.”

“Is there a quiet place we can talk? I need to ask you a few more questions. Normally, we would invite you down to the police station in a few days. However, given the situation, I’d like to get some things out the way right now.”

“If you must, you may come by our house.” Once done examining the corpse, Lagos got back up and instructed the officer to have the body taken to the forensics office in Adamantas. Selim offered to go with them, as he was one of the most respected pathologists on the island, but Lagos declined. He wanted his curly-haired friend to accompany him to the Yavuz’s home.

“I need you as a translator. You’ll get your chance to perform your own autopsy of the deceased in due time.”

Selim nodded in agreement.

OF PAIN AND SORROW

While the corpse was packed up and sent off to the forensics office, Lagos and Selim walked over to Hakan and Aylin’s car. It was a black Lancia, most likely built in the early 2000s. The four of them would drive home to the Yavuzes.

Surrounded by majestic apple trees and great fields of vine, the family manor stood tall on the outskirts of Adamantas. The white facade, with its blue fences, panels, and window shutters, contrasted with the heavy green around it. At first glance, you could tell that the Yavuz family was well off, especially for immigrants. No one spoke as Hakan parked the car on the gravel right in front of the door. Half of the vehicle was still peering out