The old man Dimitrios is a flawed character in many respects, but while his riverside café is treated with derision by the local village people, he seems to have more love and compassion running through his veins, than most others. Eccentric, and perhaps a little mad, his dreams clearly embody the true soul of Greece; a fast disappearing and caring world, as well as an abiding memory of his beloved wife Marta. With his dreams intact, and by discovering the English woman’s floating corpse in the river, he walks the reader into a murder story involving various police forces, as well as the UK’s secret service, and MI6.
My story is initially about a ‘floored’ cash-strapped nation, racked with corruption, and suffering from the blight of illegal immigration. Far more than the puny Greek government can cope with, or the European Union for that matter – which has largely turned its back to Greece – the devil seems to be in the details, most of which have been conveniently ignored.
A case of mistaken identity like no other, Majory Braithwaits body has been cast into a communal grave. Believed to be just one more Islamic casualty dragged from the River Ardas, and treated like many other nameless people found drowned, she is swiftly forgotten about. Sargeant Electra Boulos, on the other hand, is a little bit more conscientious than her colleagues. Discovering some matching fingerprints, she is able to identify the English woman and to open up a complicated new and revealing case for DCI Michael Lambert and Europol.
“With arms held out straight, his fingers clicking, his face stern and full of the emotion which only Greek men can truly display when they weep, Dimitrios Pantzos would slowly twirl, jump and spin amongst the assorted tables and chairs, and in so doing he would reverently display the deep and painful loss he felt for his beloved Marta, and pray that one day they would finally be reunited in heaven.”