‘You weren’t?’

  ‘For a while, perhaps. But then… I began to tolerate her. I liked the idea of it: any excuse for a party. It was supposed to be harmless fun. I supplied the nectar…’

  ‘The hallucinogenic drugs?’

  Laurence-Sinclair rolled his eyes. ‘Indeed. Yes, and she dressed the scenes. She was pretty marvellous at it, actually. She brought in candles and robes, went to great lengths to create numinous atmospheres. Once, she managed to source an original marble bust: the head of Athena. I have no idea how she did it. She treated it as the focal point of the meeting, got us to stare at it intensely, move around it, chant and chant and chant until the flames licking the marble seemed to be the living skin of Athena herself. Moira said she saw the goddess move; she heard Athena speak to her.’

  ‘You are referring to the effects of hallucinogens,’ explained Michail, helpfully.

  ‘Moira did not think so, or at least, she did not want to think so. I did not pay her enough attention, I suppose. I was responsible for the recruitment process. I persuaded undergraduates to join, to lose their inhibitions. I approached them after lectures, engaged them in conversation, left them wanting more. It was… a fun project. I realised how exceptional I was at enticing people, manipulating their behaviours. They hung on my every word. Most of them believed that something mystical was happening. The chanting, the… rituals, coupled with the nectar, the food of the gods, it was easy to believe. But I was too talented; and Moira became intense, untenable. She became obsessed with the drugs, with Athena. She began to worship her outside of Bright Eye meetings. It got to the point where she would turn up at my flat in the middle of the night demanding more, another meeting, another opportunity to meet the goddess.’

  ‘What did you do?’

  ‘I am not completely morally inept,’ Laurence-Sinclair replied. Michail struggled not to balk. Laurence-Sinclair offered him a grim smile. ‘I wasn’t then. I told her she should pursue a new interest. The Bright Eyes had gone too far and that she was distracted from her studies.’

  ‘How did she take that?’

  ‘She howled. I remember, she beat her fists against my chest and howled like a Bacchant. She thought I was breaking up with her, that is what she said. That I had used her, implored her to open herself up, only to dispose of her.’

  ‘Had you?’

  Laurence-Sinclair’s eyes shone with the memory. ‘It was a different time, sergeant. For me, it was a game, a fun dalliance. I barely remember it. Perhaps I should have been more careful with her, she was eager, too eager…’

  Michail heard Theo shift in the corner of the cave; he was growing bored, his gun now lowered and resting by his thigh.

  ‘Let me guess,’ Michail said. ‘She reported you as an act of revenge?’

  ‘Bingo,’ mumbled Laurence-Sinclair, looking at the floor. ‘And so that was the end of life as I knew it.’

  ‘You continued to wear her ring though?’

  Laurence-Sinclair smiled again, though this time, he seemed sad. ‘My ring, and yes. I don’t know, I thought of it as a relic. I did not want to allow myself to forget, sergeant, in case I should ever have the chance… to balance the justice scales. Over the years, it became a part of me. A burning symbol of regret, a focus for the fantasy of revenge. I knew it would come in useful one day, I just did not predict how.’

  ‘But it doesn’t explain why you murdered all those people,’ Michail pressed, edging slowly towards the entrance of the cave. Laurence-Sinclair was so enraptured by his own story, that he did not notice. Theo was fiddling with his phone, bored the attention was not on him. A steady flow of tears erupted from Katerina’s eyes, but she seemed to be wriggling her ankles against the ropes in minute, almost indetectable movements.

  ‘I followed Moira’s career closely. I was bitter, more bitter each year. Her success was a constant source of humiliation. Book after book… When I heard she would be replacing me at the museum as a mere retirement hobby, I… I could not bear it. I was transported back to those heady nights, the guttural whisperings, the animal desires. I hadn’t thought about that part of my life for so long! I yearned for it. I realised that in leaving London, I had left behind that excitement – that exciting part of me! It was stupid, an old man’s cliché some would say, but I overheard a conversation between two of the young museum interns about Exarcheia. They were talking about some party they had been at and I thought, well why not? It was easier than I expected. The streets around that square are joyous at night! The people just wanted to talk, hear my stories, and I listened too – there was anger, creativity, the juice of youth. Then one night, I met a man who saw the colours of my very soul. It was like an invisible hand reached out from across the table and touched me on the chest. He seemed to know exactly how I felt, he made me feel… wanted.’

  ‘Who was it?’ Michail continued to edge, millimetre by millimetre, towards the cave entrance. Theo now sat back against the stone wall with his arms folded sulkily, still looking at his phone. Michail caught Katerina’s eye and froze. She blinked slowly at him, her eyes big and wet, then looked away.

  ‘Christos Panagos.’ Laurence-Sinclair smiled as he said the name, his head cocked to one side, residing in balmy memory. ‘He made me feel like I could tell him everything. I didn’t hold back, my whole life, the light and the dark, poured from my mouth that night, and he embraced it all. We started messaging, and then meeting more. I realised who he was, learned of the success he had made of his newspaper. He told me about how he had been sacked from the police force unfairly. Oh how I related! After a while, he asked whether he could trust me with something. I was honoured; to be trusted by anyone, especially Christos, was a thrill. He needed me. He said that a seismic shift was about to occur. He wanted me as an associate, a partner. A man like him! Not only that, he wanted me as a senior colleague, used for the most delicate and important of tasks. You will not understand, sergeant, I do not expect you to, but he gave me power. I was offered the apple and I took it. I deserve it.’ Laurence-Sinclair seemed to consider something for a second and then shook his head.

  His voice wobbled, growing louder as he asked, ‘What is good, anyway? Is this world not a collection of random debris! Moira got her wish in the end. How serendipitous, that the woman who ruined my life by believing that gods could walk the earth, now helped mine and Christos’s cause only because she believed. She was all too happy to hear from me. I apologised for good measure, said that I should never have taken advantage of her, blah, blah, blah. It was perfect: Christos plans to use her as a sacrifice tonight. My revenge will be sublime. She will die, forgotten and stupid, and I will live. Her expertise was also invaluable. The death is in the detail. Even I, a classicist, do not match her level of knowledge. She is obsessed, always has been. It had to be authentic. The deaths had to look divine, you see?’

  ‘You drugged them?’

  Laurence-Sinclair laughed. ‘A little sharpener, of course. They all believed, when the time was right, that they would be better off dead. They submitted to Athena. To me…’

  ‘Will you shut up!’

  Michail froze. Theo pounced to his feet, his arms tense by his sides, glowering at Laurence-Sinclair.

  Laurence-Sinclair turned to Theo, emboldened. ‘I will be a god,’ he said, his voice rising to meet the cheers from the crowds outside. ‘You will not speak to me that way. Christos has given me the highest authority. I…’ Theo began to snigger. Laurence-Sinclair continued, though Michail noticed that his chin dropped slightly, the skin around his eyes tightening. ‘You will listen, henchman! I am chosen! You are merely the legwork. Christos knows my mind is precious. He wants to elevate me. I am important, he looks up to me…’

  Theo played with his gun between his fingers and slinked towards Laurence-Sinclair, trapping him with triumphant eyes. ‘The highest authority!’ he mocked, imitating Laurence-Sinclair’s voice. ‘A god!’ He stamped his foot, laughing. ‘Ha!’

  ‘What are you doing?’ asked Laurence-Sinclair.

  Theo was encircling him, a restless lion. ‘You are pathetic.’ Theo said each word as if spitting bile. ‘You think you’re clever? Better than me? You are muck on the bottom of my shoe.’ In a fluid motion, Theo raised his leg and kicked the old man in the stomach, sending him crumpling to the ground.

  Michail hovered in the centre of the cave: no matter what he thought of Laurence-Sinclair, he could not leave him to Theo. It went against every teaching, every moral code. Intervening unarmed did not seem a sensible alternative, however.

  Theo placed a foot on Laurence-Sinclair’s chest and positioned his gun. ‘Christos doesn’t care about you,’ he said. Dark blood dribbled from Laurence-Sinclair’s mouth onto the ground. He moved his lips silently, as if trying to work out the meaning of Theo’s words. ‘He doesn’t care about you! Do you hear me, old man?’ Theo’s words thundered with confidence.

  ‘He… yes he does. He said that he would lead with me… the forefront of the dawn of a civilisation. He needs me…’

  ‘He used you.’ Theo knelt next to the old man, whose head had begun to shake, his lips moving incessantly, tearing through barren conversations, promises. ‘He used you and now he has no need for you.’

  ‘No, I helped…’ Laurence-Sinclair whined in reply. He was a wounded animal, clinging to a last thread of hope.

  ‘You helped, yes. I am sure he is grateful. You helped us. But that is all.’ Theo steadied his gun and aimed for the space between Laurence-Sinclair’s eyes.

  ‘You cannot mean this,’ Laurence-Sinclair whimpered.

  ‘You are foreign!’ roared Theo. ‘You are not Greek! Be a man! You will end up the same way as your victims…’ Theo snarled. ‘A willing sacrifice.’

  ‘Christos!’ The echo of Laurence-Sinclair’s final word rang out in brutal dissonance against the gunshot. It was too late.

  But there was no point waiting. Each second ticked with excruciating delay. Theo stood over Laurence-Sinclair’s body, chuckling. The cave’s entrance smiled open and free. Michail dived towards it, pushing his tired body through the dark space, willing himself to move faster.

  He found himself suspended in the air, a sharp pain impacting his shins. He opened his mouth as an anguished cry escaped him. ‘No!’

  He saw Katerina’s shape, her arms still tied behind her back, lunge between himself and Theo’s gun. He had moved too slowly. He would have been shot in the back had Katerina not tripped him. She had saved him. And placed herself in harm’s way.

  Katerina, letting out a ragged cry, drove Theo to the ground, pushing her elbows into his ribs. He did not shoot her – which was illogical, but useful, Michail thought, forcing his shaking legs to push him from the ground.

  ‘Kat!’ Theo roared, as she rolled over him, the bindings on her hands breaking with the force, and attacked him like a demented banshee.

  Michail lunged over to help and secured Theo’s weapon by kicking it from his hand as Katerina held him in place. She maintained her position, weighing Theo down, her face scrunched and determined, as Michail patted him down for further weaponry. ‘If you remain still then this process will be more efficient,’ he reminded Theo, joining Katerina by taking his own seat on Theo’s back. Theo roared senselessly at them.

  When he was satisfied, Michail observed Katerina, whose face was red and blotchy. Her cheeks were bloated, still restricted by the muzzle. It was fair, Michail considered, for him to remove her gag. He reached out and tugged it from her lips. Before letting her speak, he said, ‘Good work. We must contact Ms Sampson. And then, we must place you under arrest, Katerina.’

  By now, the cries from the revellers outside were a constant roar. Katerina hung her head, her hands still tied behind her back.

  ‘I am sorry, Michail,’ she said.

  Proper Practice

  In the cave sanctuary of Pan, Michail stood next to Sofia Sampson and worked through a list in his mind. He knew he was humming as he worked, but he did not care. The forensic team were busy. The riot continued to rage outside on the streets. The sun was setting. Michail would find some sense. Theo was handcuffed in the corner of the cave, guarded by two officers, who refused to look at him. Katerina sobbed intermittently, also in cuffs. Laurence-Sinclair’s body had been taken away. A large pool of sticky blood stained the ground.

  Sofia placed an arm around his shoulders. ‘Michail, it will be all right.’

  ‘Yes, thank you, Ms Sampson. I am attempting to decipher the information received tonight. When information is presented in a tangle, it is sometimes easy to miss the obvious thread.’

  Sofia shrugged, looking around the cave. ‘It seems clear to me. Laurence-Sinclair and Theo are our murderers, working under the orders of Christos. And Katerina… well, we must speak about that. What is terrifying,’ she pointed to the cave opening, ‘is that Christos seems to have mobilised all of Athens into believing that a goddess will greet them on the Acropolis tonight.’

  ‘Correct,’ said Michail. ‘All a guise for a right-wing social ideology.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Sofia. ‘And he has countless officials throughout the country on his side, by the looks of those emails you recovered from Moira. I think we must assume that those officers who did not turn up for duty today are also part of The Awakening.’

  ‘Theo said the same has happened throughout the country, is that true?’ Michail could not help but look at Katerina, who continued to cry.

  ‘Unfortunately, yes,’ replied Sofia. ‘Which means we cannot call for backup. We have who we have.’

  Yiorgos walked over to them, casting Theo a filthy look. ‘If I had my way, he would be killed.’

  ‘But…’ Sofia raised her eyebrows.

  ‘Being the two-faced, spineless thug he is, he has agreed to a settlement.’

  ‘Oh? So, his loyalty is as thick as water.’ Sofia smiled, her red lips glowing in the dim light. ‘What’s the exchange?’

  ‘He reckons he has access to the original footage of all three murders. It was Theo and Basil’s thugs who shut the power down outside the cotton mill by the way,’ Yiorgos said. ‘I suppose that’s why Basil had them transferred.’

  ‘He is a disgrace,’ muttered Sofia.

  ‘Well, there will be plenty more of those,’ replied Yiorgos. ‘The security videos will be useful. If the names on that list tell us anything, then our case needs to be irrefutable. We cannot afford to leave anything to chance.’

  ‘What does he want in return?’

  ‘If he faces prison time, and the lunatic doesn’t think he will, given what’s about to happen – his words – then he wants a pardon.’ Yiorgos snatched another furious look at Theo.

  ‘He thinks he can avoid a life sentence?’ Sofia’s laugh sounded more like a bark. ‘Is he out of his mind?’

  ‘Clearly,’ said Yiorgos. ‘But he’s slippery enough to hedge his bets. If this Awakening succeeds tonight and our world changes forever, then this deal means nothing, whether we have the footage or not. On the other hand, if he faces trial, and an inevitable life sentence, then he thinks the deal will save him.’

  ‘Let him think it,’ said Sofia. ‘I have no qualms about lying to a murderer, especially as all protocol seems to have been thrown to the breezes. Take him to the station and hold him there.’

  Yiorgos commanded two officers to remove Theo. As they watched him leave, he crossed his arms. ‘At least we can trust each other. The other side have revealed themselves by now. Anyone wearing a police badge today marks themselves a non-believer. Thank God we’re both here.’

  ‘Yes,’ Sofia replied, removing her arm from Michail’s shoulders. There was a very detectable tone of apology in her voice.

  Yiorgos heard it too. ‘You didn’t think…’

  ‘Of course not,’ Sofia snapped. ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Yiorgos, I have always trusted you.’

  Yiorgos chuckled. ‘You were concerned with my texting…?’

  ‘It is unprofessional to text on duty, as you well know.’ Sofia’s cheeks were flushed.

  Yiorgos held up his hands, surrendering. ‘I know, I know! It’s just been busy at home; Thalia wants to know–’

  ‘Thalia?’

  Yiorgos frowned. ‘My wife, Sofia.’

  ‘Ah.’

  ‘She is always keen to know when I’ll be home because of our newborn.’

  ‘Newborn? You mean a baby?’

  ‘Yes.’ Yiorgos grinned.

  ‘You didn’t say!’ Sofia, clearly flustered, rubbed the sides of her arms.

  ‘You didn’t ask,’ replied Yiorgos.

  Sofia looked as if she were about to say something further but Michail saw this as the perfect opportunity to interrupt. They could not afford to waste time speaking about Yiorgos’s family matters, though it was clear that Sofia needed to pay better attention to her colleagues in the future.

  ‘Is Moira still in the detention cell?’ Michail demanded. He had experienced a glimmer of an idea, still flickering and dim, though he thought it worth pursuing.

  ‘Of course, why, Sergeant Mikras?’

  He could not be sure, but there was something that stuck in his mind, like a chip in a glass vase. ‘Something Laurence-Sinclair said; that Moira would be used as a sacrifice tonight. I cannot work out what it means. I feel… she did not realise what she was doing…’

  ‘She is an accessory to serial killings!’

  ‘Yes, yes, that is true. But may I speak with her? She trusts me, I think. We have conversed together on a number of occasions.’

  ‘I’m aware,’ Sofia replied, in an excessively dry tone.

  ‘I may have a plan,’ said Michail, noticing that Katerina was looking at him hopefully, wishing she would not. ‘But I will need to speak to Moira, as well as read the transcript of her interview, any evidence that is extracted from Theo and,’ he knew it was an unorthodox request, but this was unprecedented, ‘Sofia, I need your senior cyber clearance code.’