‘It’s really rare for someone to have five digits, six digits sometimes, but five isn’t popular.’ She exhaled, trying to think it through. ‘I wonder what those numbers mean to her?’

  ‘They could be random?’ suggested Sofia.

  ‘Unlikely,’ said Michail, beginning to pace back and forth again, although even more quickly than before. ‘An astounding amount of people do not take the pertinent security advice to choose numbers at random. Usually, passwords hold a personal significance.’

  ‘That’s what I mean.’ Katerina approached the board and stared at the figures. ‘It’s not her birthday, it doesn’t spell anything sensible when transposed to letters… so what is it?’

  Sofia sighed and shrugged. ‘I feel like we’re stumbling at random clue after random clue, here. Did either of you have any thoughts about Domenico? The unveiled comment?’

  As if a spring had unwound somewhere inside of him, Michail’s back straightened and he whipped a fresh piece of paper over the board. ‘Unveiled,’ he began, writing the word in large capitals. ‘A brief etymological explanation will be useful, here; the meaning is more symbolic in Greek, of course – αποκαλύπτω1. In any case, as Sofia correctly pointed out, it was an odd turn of phrase for Domenico to use, and he has used it twice: once when speaking English to Sofia on the telephone, and once when writing in Italian on his hotel’s Post-it, we can reasonably assume.’

  He took a deep breath and began to write on the board again. ‘The word originated directly from the Latin verb velare, meaning “to cover, or to veil”. Therefore, the adjective velatus means “covered”.’ He listed the words on the board, his hand almost shaking with excitement. ‘Add the prefix “in”, or “un” for English, “s” for the Italian s-velato and we arrive at the Latin invelatus: unveiled.’

  Katerina glanced at Sofia, who seemed just as confused as she was. ‘Um, so it’s from Latin? I mean, aren’t a lot of words derived from Latin? Especially Italian and English ones?’

  ‘Correct, Katerina. Italian, in fact, borrows seventy-five per cent of its words directly from Latin. English sits a little lower, at sixty per cent.’ He stepped back from the board, nodding with deep satisfaction.

  ‘Michail, if you could get to the point.’ Sofia pushed her hands out in front of her, flexing her fingers.

  ‘Certainly. The fact that the word is derived from Latin is inconsequential on its own. However, I found it useful to put it into context.’ He checked over his shoulder and lowered his voice to a barely audible murmur. Katerina scraped her chair closer to him. ‘Where are we staying?’

  Sofia rolled her eyes and replied, drily, ‘Saturn House.’

  ‘Precisely!’ He wrote the name of the hotel on the board. ‘It bothered me that the hotel group had chosen to use the Roman name, Saturn, over the Greek name, Kronos. We are in Greece: the oversight has the potential to misguide many tourists about correct mythological terminology–’

  Sofia cleared her throat.

  ‘–at first, I thought that it was careless ignorance. However, the “unveiled” reference set me on an etymological examination–’

  ‘An etymological examination? Michail, please tell me this isn’t an excuse to reinstate the Myth Buster Unit?’ Sofia groaned, placing her head in her hands.

  ‘On the contrary, this is a very serious line of inquiry.’ Michail turned his back to them as he wrote more on the board. When he stepped away, Katerina saw that he had written three distinct points. ‘Firstly,’ he whispered, ‘we are staying in Saturn House. An unusual naming convention, as I’ve already explained. Secondly, when I researched the word “invelatus” and “Saturn” together, as paired terms, I came up with only one reference: texts relating to the Roman festival of the Saturnalia, for which the sacrificial rites were carried out by an unveiled priest. This was unusual for the Romans, since they favoured sacrifices to be made capite velato–’

  ‘Michail…’ Sofia’s voice was low with warning.

  ‘–that’s with the head covered by a robe, for example,’ continued Michail.

  Sofia stood in a quick, sharp movement, causing her chair to topple behind her. ‘Michail!’ she hissed, her arms crossed tightly across her midriff. ‘You cannot be serious. This cannot be serious. I explicitly told you that we were not entertaining any myths. We’re not a joke, Michail! We can’t solve every crime by looking at stories.’

  Katerina held her breath as Sofia continued to rail at him, her anger managing to ring through the air despite the quiet volume of her voice. ‘You are wasting time here. We have two dead, we have Athens clawing at our backs, demanding a breakthrough, we’ve let a sniper and whomever that was today get away from us… what am I supposed to tell my seniors? That we only look at myths now? That we don’t do crimes that aren’t based around myths? That we’re no longer the Special Violent Crime Unit, but instead have decided to focus our attention exclusively on Myth Busting?’

  Katerina looked to the sky. The stars seemed to sag heavily above them. Her stitches throbbed as if feeding off the tension in the air and she lifted her head to offer Michail some support; he had only been trying to help. She could see his logical, if misguided, train of thought: if he had solved last summer’s murders by looking to mythology and history, then why not now? Surprisingly, Michail’s expression was perfectly serene. Sofia’s barrage didn’t seem to have bothered him in the slightest.

  Sofia stalked to the balcony and hung her head over it. ‘Michail–’ she began, without turning to face them.

  ‘I understand, Major Sampson. You are right to question my methods if you think them unhelpful. However, with your permission I would like to explain my final point?’

  ‘The “T”?’ Katerina looked back at the board and frowned. ‘The “T” on Teddy’s necklace? And Tatiana’s?’

  ‘Exactly.’ Michail smiled in the way that Katerina knew meant he had connected a few, almost impossible, dots. ‘Except, we were mistaken,’ he said, pulling his phone from his pocket. He held up the image of Teddy’s necklace and then swiped to the photograph of Irene’s daughter. ‘We noted that it was strange how both Teddy and Tatiana were wearing the same “T”-shaped necklace, we assumed, to stand for the initial of their first name. Unbelievable, really, that both “T”s had the same volute lettering, with the flick, just here, ticking down in the same way, almost resembling a Greek η or an English h, rather than a T.’

  Katerina stared at the image of the necklace and then back at the board. ‘Oh… oh my God, wait…’ She grabbed her phone and scrolled through Alek’s feed. ‘Here! Here – a post from a couple of years ago. Yes… that’s it!’ She read the caption aloud. ‘Sometimes, a commander is the only thing that’ll get you to where you want to be. That’s the role of the taskmaster of the zodiac. Saturn commands us to get to work and to work hard. Discipline and responsibility are important to this planet, if you want to conquer the world, then take Saturn’s lead. Uh, the hashtags: #MasculineEnergy #ZodiacTeachings #SelfImprovement. But look at the image! It’s the same as the necklaces. They’re not initials, they’re the sickle, Saturn’s symbol!’

  ‘That’s right.’ Michail counted the fingers on his hand as he listed the main points. ‘Saturn House, references to the Saturnalia, Saturn’s zodiac glyph.’

  ‘I don’t believe this,’ Sofia breathed. ‘So, what are we saying? That both Teddy and Tatiana belonged to some Saturn cult?’

  ‘The evidence is insufficient for that assumption,’ Michail said. ‘Although, we need to speak to Tatiana–’

  ‘Yes!’ Katerina looked at her phone again and then at the sheet of paper Michail was halfway through rolling up. ‘I knew it!’ She pushed herself from her chair, swaying slightly at the pain across her head. ‘I just searched “Saturn astrology numbers” and listen to this: Saturn is the lord of number 8. In numerology, the ruling planet of the number 8 is Saturn, and therefore people who are born on the 8th, 17th, and 26th have special blessings from Saturn.’ She took a short, excited breath. ‘That’s Innes’s password – 81726. That’s what it means! She’s in on this, well, whatever this Saturn business is about too… oh, there’s more… The number 8 is the most influential in numerology, holding great importance and the masculine, dominant energy of its lord, Saturn.’ She glanced at Alek’s phone. ‘I bet–’

  ‘8888?’ Sofia suggested, clicking her tongue as she thought it through. ‘Egotistical, full of toxic masculinity, striving for power, popularity, teaching about discipline, overly simplistic… I wouldn’t be surprised at all.’

  Katerina, her hands trembling slightly, reached for Alek’s phone and held her thumbs over the keyboard. ‘Are you sure?’ She looked nervously up at her colleagues. There were only so many guesses they’d have before blocking the phone.

  ‘No,’ Sofia replied softly. ‘But I’ll back you.’

  Katerina gritted her teeth as she tapped the number into the keys. She closed her eyes as she entered the last digit and waited for Sofia’s reaction.

  ‘There you go.’

  The phone loaded into Alek’s homescreen. A cool energy trickled down Katerina’s spine; for the first time in a long while, she realised that she was excited, that the possibilities of tomorrow glowed a little brighter.

  A buzzing sounded from Sofia’s handbag. ‘Forensics, about the prints.’ She walked to the plunge pool at the end of the terrace to take the call, leaving Katerina and Michail alone. Katerina shrugged, attempting to throw him a smile. ‘I suppose that’s tonight taken care of,’ she said, nodding at the phone.

  If the prospect of spending the night working with her made him uncomfortable, then he wasn’t given the chance to respond. Sofia strode back towards them as sirens echoed in the mid-distance. ‘It’s a match,’ she said. ‘If Innes isn’t our sniper, then I want to know what she was doing in room three at the Hotel Plaza.’

  1 Apocalypse

  Speakers

  ‘So sad to see you go,’ Lily cooed. Despite the late hour, she was wide awake, dressed in a tightly fitted transparent golden kimono, sipping a tall, icy orange drink and seemed to be labouring under the entirely unnecessary misconception that she was required to make conversation with him. ‘And, obviously, so tragic we didn’t meet under better circumstances.’

  ‘It is unlikely we would have met at all were it not for the murders,’ Michail replied. ‘But thank you for your hospitality.’

  ‘Are you travelling to Athens tonight? I think the last boat has–’

  ‘Arrangements have been made,’ he cut in, wishing that Katerina would hurry up packing. He added for good measure, remembering Sofia’s instructions, ‘We require more space to conduct our duties to the best of our abilities.’

  The marble floor reflected the moonlight shining through the tall glass doors. He stared at it unblinkingly, before his gaze drifted to the sculpture of the god Saturn to the left of the entrance. A strange detail stood out to him, one he had missed before. ‘Saturn’s sickle.’ He nodded in its direction. ‘It appears to be discoloured.’

  Lily looked momentarily surprised before following his gaze. ‘Ah, our Saturn! The namesake of the hotel! Yes, a funny little tradition we have! Our guests really lean into it, you know? They rub the top of his stick for good luck. Health, wealth and happiness, that sort of thing!’

  ‘I see.’ Unsure about how to reply without being rude about the completely illogical practice, he stood in silence, feeling the weight of Alek’s phone in his pocket beckoning him to investigate his private messages.

  ‘Unbelievable news about Innes,’ Lily said with a great sigh. ‘I never, ever would have thought she’d be capable of something–’

  ‘We must have woken you up,’ he interrupted, attempting to steer the conversation away from the case. ‘I apologise for that.’

  ‘Oh! Oh no, actually, I was beavering away on the business, you know, I work into the night a lot of the time.’

  ‘Ah, your pistachio venture?’

  ‘That’s right. I was hoping to gain a bit of brand awareness at the Saturnalia. It’s the perfect setting, don’t you think? The sea, the pool, the actual trees within touching distance… it could be a huge boost.’

  He shook his head in amazement. ‘You expect the party to go ahead? Even now?’

  Lily seemed genuinely shocked by the question. Her eyebrows shot upwards as she replied, ‘It’s one of the most exclusive events in the world. People – people so important that you can’t even imagine – have been looking forward to it for months. They’re sad about Alek, and Teddy, but this is their chance to let go. Imagine never being able to do that. We provide a safe environment for them. Away from the fans, the press. They can be themselves with people just like them. It’s a haven for them. They don’t want to give that up.’

  ‘People just like them?’

  ‘Money and power,’ she replied simply, looking at her lilac nails. ‘You know, most people don’t understand what it means to be a person like that, at the top, the very top, of the food chain. When you have everything, then nothing looms large. That’s what Domenico once said to me. Imagine that! Imagine feeling like you’ve completed life, bagged the dream, won the game with no more levels to overcome? With only nothingness to fear?’ She laughed, a hint of bitterness deflecting off the sharp surfaces of the foyer.

  ‘Do you aspire to be a… a fearer-of-nothing?’ Michail asked.

  She rolled her shoulders back at the question and shook her head, looking at her feet. ‘No. No – I work with them; I make things happen for them. I’m happy enough with that. Look at where it gets me!’ She whirled on the spot, her glass tilting dangerously as she gestured to the space around her. She resembled a sycamore seed caught in a flitting spin, dancing under the current of the pleasant, yet unyielding wild. He was not sure how to reply, so settled on nodding politely.

  Lily hiccoughed as she stopped turning, which signalled to Michail that this was likely not her first alcoholic beverage of the night. After another sip, she lowered her voice and spoke in a more serious tone. ‘I want to give them the best party of their lives, do you understand? That’s my job. And they thank me for it. Everything is going to be perfect!’

  ‘Did you manage to sort out the sound systems? My colleague mentioned that you were concerned about them not being up to scratch.’ Michail watched her closely as she digested the question. He detected a slight droop of the mouth, as if her brain was desperately trying to inform her over-plumped lips.

  ‘Yes, thank you for asking,’ she said, widening her eyes at him. ‘The speakers should work brilliantly.’

  ‘I’m glad to hear that. I was going to suggest that your existing speakers might do the job. The locals say that they can hear your music most clearly.’

  Again, her face behaved like a listless mask, her lips slowly bending into a grateful smile, but a little too delayed, a little too confused. ‘Existing speakers?’

  ‘Yes, Saturn House’s parties are quite legendary. You must have been told about the noise complaints?’

  ‘Oh!’ Her head snapped up as the lift doors opened to reveal Katerina. ‘Oh! Yes… silly me… I must have forgotten about those spare speakers, how stupid.’

  Katerina took in the scene and caught Michail’s eye before giving him a tiny nod. ‘I’ll load up the car,’ she said. ‘Ms Woodstow, would you mind helping me? Michail, remember that I left my earrings by the pool? Could you fetch them?’

  ‘Certainly,’ Michail replied, already halfway to the door. ‘I won’t be long!’

  Glancing behind him to check that Katerina had Lily under control, he swiftly headed past the pool area to the hotel boundaries. It was difficult to know what he was searching for, but he was certain that Lily was hiding something. The noise pollution issue made no sense. Where was the music coming from? Why would Lily act so suspiciously when asked about the music? It was difficult to believe that she, a self-confessed workaholic, would simply ‘forget’ about a sound system. He edged around the pool area and shone his torch into the bushes, checking over his shoulder. Nothing out of the ordinary.

  Quickening his pace, he jogged down the path and through the gate that led to the beach. The night sky bled blue over the sand and the sea seemed to breathe at regular intervals, rolling gently in its inky dreams. The circular torchlight moved steadily along the corner of the wall, where the sand was slightly higher. Everything looked normal. He let out a low, frustrated sigh. Archaic warrior clues. Pretending to be something they weren’t. What was the pretence, here? What was he hoping to uncover? Lily, inebriated and harmless as she seemed, could easily mention to Domenico that the police had been snooping about the hotel at night. If he was going to find something, he had to find it quickly.

  He placed his hand against the wall. Here was the boundary, the liminal space between the everythings and the nothings, as Lily had put it. He traced his way back up towards the pool area, his hand gently grazing the brushed concrete. Built to keep those who didn’t understand out. Built to keep those who did understand together. Built to maintain the impression of power and wealth and influence. The impression…

  A jolt ignited at the bottom of his belly. A wall built to give an impression…

  He took three long, quick strides back and shone the torch along the wall again. It didn’t fit. The wall was concrete, a cheap alternative to the rest of the stonework that adorned the rest of the hotel. An inconsistent choice. A soft breeze licked the dry leaves in the trees hanging over the wall. He cocked his head to one side and stared. The branches pointed towards the beach in a highly irregular sequence. Without delay, he catapulted himself as high as he could against the wall so that he could hoist himself up. Pushing with his legs, he managed to roll and position himself on the top. Here, he saw what he had suspected: the trunks of the trees were bent and misshapen in the same way, as if growing around something that had been placed beneath the ground. He swung his legs around and gripped on to the most stable-looking branch to lower himself onto the other side.