Cloak of Silence (Jake Harding Adventures Book 1)

The three adventure school instructors were waiting in the courtyard, dressed warmly although the evening was not cold. Ready for a long night perhaps?

His dad said quietly, ‘Barbara is in her car, out looking for her. We’ll stay on foot and split up – should find her quickly – she won’t have gone far.’

Jake hoped his dad was right. In his half-awake state all he could think was that this surely couldn’t have happened because he’d annoyed Zoë at suppertime.

Jenny flashed him a quick, sympathetic smile and Rob and Matt said ‘hi’. He really liked Jenny but didn’t want her sympathy, not yet anyway.

The instructors were tough single-minded people, well trained and individually selected by his dad for their competence and ability to help run a busy adventure school. There wasn’t much they couldn’t handle.

‘Jenny, you and Jake walk along the beach,’ his dad said, handing out torches. ‘Matt, you take that path through the trees above the houses and Rob, you and I’ll go down the village street. Meet up at the taverna in twenty minutes.’

They set out through the adventure school gates together and Jake fell in step with his father.

‘What can have happened to her, dad?’

‘Well, Mum and I went over to the school after supper; Thursday evenings are always busy, you know, preparing for the Friday Project. We got back to the house about eleven and she wasn’t home. Mum rang the taverna; Petrina said she’d not seen Zoë since suppertime and Spyros had only just got home from taking Selena to the airport.’

‘Where can she be?’

‘Don’t know, Jake. Her purse and passport are in her room, so she’s not gone far.’

‘And her mobile phone?’

‘It’s not around so she must have got it with her. It rings but goes to voicemail every time.’

They split up at the T-junction where the short hill down from the adventure school met the winding village street. Jake thought about his dad’s comment about the passport; she would never run off without saying anything. Surely his parents knew that, but he supposed they were just ruling out possibilities.

‘Don’t worry, Jake,’ Jenny said as they walked onto the beach. ‘I’m sure we’ll quickly find her.’ She put an arm around his shoulder and gave him a squeeze.

‘I’ll go left to that end of the beach and you go the other way, okay?’ he said.

‘Sure, see you at the taverna,’ she replied. ‘Good luck.’

The cool night air had cleared Jake’s head and he ran scenarios through his mind as he walked briskly along the beach, the powerful torch cutting through the darkness. There weren’t many options; she’d either fallen and hurt herself and perhaps damaged her mobile so she couldn’t phone for help, or she was sitting out here somewhere having a think or having a sulk, although that wasn’t like her. Or had she been abducted? That seemed unlikely; there was so little crime in this quiet corner of Corfu. Maybe she’d met someone she knew but, although she had lots of friends at university, she really only hung out with Selena when she was here.

He’d reached the end of the beach and shone the torch around the windsurfer store below the terrace of their house.

He called her name and listened for a response. When none came he shone the torch further along the shoreline. There was a mix of large flat boulders and shingle, fine to scramble along in the daytime but he doubted that Zoë would have walked that way as darkness was falling. Still, he walked a little way and climbed onto a prominent boulder from where the beam of the torch reached all the way to the end of the rocky headland. There was certainly nobody on that stretch of the foreshore. On the other side of the small bay he saw Jenny’s torch playing over the beach and rocks of the opposite headland. She obviously hadn’t found her either.

He turned back and walked slowly down the beach, lost in thought. Could she have bumped into Bill Blizzard and he invited her back to his villa? She might have lost track of time and still be there while he told her stories of his time in Kosovo or wherever? Or maybe she’d not gone willingly…

The lights in the taverna were ablaze and the beach in front of the building was washed in light from two floodlights on the pergola over the terrace.

Spyros was standing on the terrace talking to Rob and Jake’s parents.

‘I’ve been out all evening,’ Spyros was saying. ‘Taking Selena to the airport. She’s gone to Athens to visit my sister Natasa.’

‘Zoë was here earlier, wasn’t she?’ his mum asked.

Spyros’s wife, Petrina, appeared with a tray of coffee. ‘Yes Barbara, she came to say goodbye to Selena,’ she said. ‘She went home when they left for the airport.’

‘That was before supper,’ his mum said. ‘She went out for a walk about an hour after she’d come home, just as it was getting dark.’ The strain in her voice was obvious. ‘She’s got her mobile with her – well, I can’t find it at home – but she’s not answering my calls.’

‘I’ve woken up four good men from the village,’ Spyros said. ‘They will help us look.’

‘Have you tried Mr Blizzard?’ Jake asked. ‘Zoë might be at his place.’

‘He wasn’t here tonight,’ Petrina volunteered. ‘Unusual.’

‘I phoned Bill as a matter of fact,’ his mum said. ‘Obviously woke him. He told me he had a headache and had gone to bed early but he kindly agreed to get up and search his property and the olive grove up there.’

Jake looked dubious but kept his thoughts to himself.

Jenny arrived and so did Matt, sweating from his stiff walk across the hillside. ‘No sign of her,’ he reported.

‘Me neither,’ said Jenny.

‘Right, let’s get organised,’ his dad said. ‘We can cover all the likely places in an hour between us – the whole village between the adventure school and the monastery and the hillside up as far as the contour road. If we still haven’t found her in that time, we’ll call the police and rouse the kids on the course to join the search.’

Efi, the adventure school cook and her husband Dimitris appeared, looking half awake and concerned. ‘Mr Matt, he woke us up,’ Efi explained. ‘What has happened to dear Zoë?’

Jake’s mum explained what had happened, while Petrina gave them coffee. Richard assigned areas for all of them to search in pairs.

They met up again at the taverna an hour later. They had called Zoë’s name until they were hoarse but there was no trace of her, not even a footprint in the sand. Petrina produced more coffee and kourabiedes and they all looked expectantly at Jake’s dad.

‘Right,’ Richard said. ‘I’d very much hoped we’d find her somewhere around the village, perhaps with a twisted ankle or something like that.’ He was speaking slowly so that the four village men could understand him.

‘We must widen the search. First, Petrina, could you help Barbara phone the Police? You need to explain to them in Greek. Second, Matt and Jenny, go and wake up the groups and organise them to scour the places we haven’t been – the adventure school grounds down to the cliffs and the beach on the other side. Just for an hour, then we’ve covered off that area. The rest of us should search the hillside right up to the main road. I came across Bill Blizzard in the olive grove; he’d already searched his garden and found nothing.’

‘And the monastery?’ one of the village men asked.

‘I checked the monastery gate: it’s locked,’ Spyros replied. ‘So she’s not there, but I will phone Father Theo anyway.’

It was almost three in the morning when they gathered again on the floodlit beach at the taverna. Richard spoke quietly to each of the search teams as they got back, but it didn’t take long: no-one had anything positive to report.

At last he clapped his hands together to get their attention and a hush fell at once.

‘Thank you all for your tremendous effort,’ he said and Jake could hear a slight catch in his voice. ‘No news, I’m afraid. We’ve covered a big area tonight; up to the main road, across to the monastery grounds and right around the bay. The adventure school kids have gone back to bed now, but they searched all around the school and along the cliffs and the beach there. But they found nothing relating to Zoë.

‘Spyros has phoned the monastery and they checked their gates, which have been securely locked since early evening, but they will search their grounds at first light just to be sure. Bill Blizzard has been out looking and Petrina and Barbara phoned the police, who will send a search team and tracker dog first thing in the morning.’

Richard held up his hands. ‘We’ve done all we can tonight. I don’t know what has happened to Zoë; I just can’t imagine. But let’s get some rest. Thank you all again.’

There was a hush until one of the local men started clapping his hands, loudly and slowly. His friends joined in, raggedly, in solidarity and support. Jenny clapped too, then Matt, Rob, Efi and Dimitris. Spyros gave big, slow defiant claps while Petrina stood at his side, a tissue to her face, quietly crying. Jake clapped too as he watched his mum slip her hand into his dad’s, her lips set firmly to keep her emotions in check.

Jake had set his alarm for 7:30 even though he didn’t think he’d be able to sleep as he lay in bed and ran every scenario he could imagine through his mind. He eventually dozed off and it didn’t seem long before the alarm was jangling and he woke with the sun coming through the window.

He thought about kiteboarding before remembering about Zoë and got out of bed feeling a pang of guilt. The courtyard outside his window was deserted and his mum’s car and the Land Rover were both gone. Efi was in the adventure school kitchen opposite. Feeling hungry, he pulled on jeans and a tee-shirt and hurried downstairs. The floor tiles were cold under his bare feet and he took his trainers from the shoe rack and let himself out.

‘Oh, Jake,’ Efi exclaimed, wiping her hands on her apron before enveloping him in a bear hug. Efi and Dimitris were almost part of the family, and Dimitris’ brother, Alesandro, who farmed not far along the coast, delivered fruit, vegetables and fresh milk to the school every day.

‘You poor boy, what a shock.’ Now she held him at arms’ length, her expression sorrowful. ‘I must look after you until your parents find your beloved sister.’

‘Thanks, Efi,’ he said. ‘Just keep the food coming.’

He helped himself to cereal and went outside with the bowl when he saw Matt crossing the courtyard. He was the most recent instructor to join the Thunder Bay team; a mountaineer and sea kayaker.

‘I’m off to get the kids going on the Friday Project,’ he said in his broad South African accent. ‘Then shooting out with Dimitris in the Land Rover searching, while the others run the course.’

‘Couldn’t the grommets help look for her?’

‘They got roped in last night,’ Matt said. ‘But the grommets as you call them are our paying customers; they’ve been working towards the Friday Project all week.’

‘And the next group? Still coming tomorrow?’

‘Yeah, twenty-four fifteen-year-olds. It’s too late to cancel and anyway we can’t afford to. Our insurance covers most things but not the owner’s daughter going missing.’

Jake thought about this as he finished his cereal. His dad had obviously already discussed things with the instructors and the adventure school would keep running. Zoë must surely turn up soon.

The Land Rover Defender drove into the courtyard with his dad at the wheel. He shook his head when he saw Jake. ‘Been driving around looking, but…’ he shook his head again.

‘What can I do, dad?’

‘Spyros has organised the villagers and Father Theo told me that the monks will search the monastery grounds. I’d like you to keep tabs on where the police dog goes, but don’t get in the way, okay?’

The police arrived at nine o’clock with their tracker dog, a young German shepherd with a middle-aged handler. It looked as though the dog might run him ragged but the policeman was experienced and the dog impressively well trained.

It was given the scent from some of Zoë’s clothes and began to run around the courtyard. The policeman led it back to the front door and gave a firm command. Nose to the ground and tail streaming behind it, the dog set off towards the gates of the adventure school.

There was nobody on the village street except an old woman in black clothes who looked curiously at the two policemen and the dog as they went past. She fixed her eyes on Jake who was following a few steps behind and pointed with her walking stick at the hillside. 

A line of people snaked across the face of the hill, heads bowed, searching the ground. One or two had long staves that they used to lift low branches, while others peered underneath.

She said something in Greek and Jake realised she was apologising that she was too old to help.

‘Lipame pole,’ she repeated. I am very sorry.

‘Then pirazi,’ Jake replied. Never mind. But it seemed unreal that it was Zoë the villagers were searching for.

He hurried on after the police officers and the dog, past the houses with their pastel walls and red tiled roofs. Washing hung on a line behind one of the cottages while chickens clucked and scratched in the sandy soil. Somebody here must know what had happened – nobody should be able to simply disappear from a place like this.

The dog carried on down the middle of the village street, following the invisible trail. A blue awning kept the morning sun off the front door of Taverna Spyros. The grommets went for a Greek evening here during their course, a noisy, exuberant event with loud music, Greek dancing and smashing of plates. But the taverna was quiet now, a closed sign showing through the glass door.

Beyond the taverna the road followed the curve of the beach for a little way before turning sharply up the hill under tall pine trees. After climbing steeply, a hairpin bend took them onto a shallower gradient that led up to the imposing gates of the monastery, framed by an impenetrable jungle of prickly pear bushes which almost completely hid the tall chain-link fence around the monastery grounds.

The dog veered off the road before reaching the gates and set off diagonally across the parking area. A clock tower in the monastery rang out the hour with its strangely discordant bell as the small procession, led by the dog, crossed the empty car park to the far corner, from where a path disappeared through the towering prickly pears. The dog seemed in no doubt that this was where the trail lay. There were countless footprints on the sandy path, maybe including Zoë’s, Jake supposed. Perhaps the tracker dog could tell them apart.

The footpath emerged onto a small area of rough gravel where an old wooden bench, almost encircled by the giant prickly pears, faced out to a sweeping view. A knee-high stone wall curved around in front of the bench, but offered little protection from the sheer drop beyond. Whoever had built it seemed to have been less concerned about health and safety than about spoiling the view for anyone sitting on the bench.

The dog ran around giving a series of low barks. It came back again to the gravel behind the bench before circling around, sniffing at the ground.

‘She was here,’ one of the policemen said, seeing Jake’s puzzled expression.

‘And now?’ he asked, but the handler let the dog circle around once again.

It eventually sat down behind the bench and looked up at its master. The handler patted the dog’s head and slipped it a biscuit.

‘The trail ends here,’ he announced.

‘What? Ends here?’

The officer shrugged. ‘I now report to my superior,’ he said.

Jake looked around him in disbelief. The area around the bench was only a few metres wide and enclosed by the formidable jungle of prickly pears. He looked over the low wall at the sheer drop to the trees and bushes below. Here the fence around the monastery diverged from the hedge and ran below the rock formation that the viewing terrace was built on.

The policeman joined him. ‘She no there,’ he said, echoing Jake’s thoughts. Anyone falling over the wall would have been caught by the fence that ran along the base of the rock face.

‘So where is she?’ Jake asked.

The policeman shrugged again. ‘When trail ends like so, usually target got in vehicle.’

Jake looked back up the narrow footpath to the car park. You could hardly get a bike along there and certainly nothing bigger.

The policeman followed his gaze. ‘It is mystrio,’ he said in his halting English.

‘It’s mystrio all right,’ Jake muttered and walked to the end of the low wall where the underlying rock projected upwards like a stubby finger. Rough steps had been in the rock curving down to a gate in the monastery fence. He was almost six feet tall but the gate towered above him, the top bent over to match the fence, complete with two strands of barbed wire and secured by a chunky brass padlock. The monks obviously liked their privacy.

He went back up the steps and sat down on the low wall, his left foot firmly on the ground and his right leg dangling in space. A speckled black and white lizard eyed him calmly before darting away down the impossibly steep surface.

The monastery on the headland below was a blend of mellow stone walls topped with red tiled roofs and surrounded by lawns and well-tended gardens. Tall cypress trees stood like sentries around the ancient building. The sea beyond stretched to the northern horizon, its surface ruffled by a white painted Corfiot fishing boat motoring slowly down the coast, seagulls whirling and diving into the creamy wake. To the northeast, beyond the strait that separated Corfu from the mainland, the rugged mountains of Albania baked in the morning heat.

The policeman was talking on a two-way radio while the dog handler smoked a cigarette and enjoyed the view. His job was done, despite the inconclusive result.

If Jake’s hearing was not so sharp he would have missed the sound of the mobile ringing. He thought at first it belonged to one of the officers, but when neither made a move to answer the call, he jumped to his feet, turning his head to locate the source of the sound.

It was somewhere just off the gravelled area behind the bench. It was still ringing as he pushed his hands into the scrubby bushes, feeling for it, ignoring the thorns that dug into him. The ringing stopped, but he had a good idea where the phone was and started methodically searching until, at last, his hand touched the smooth plastic surface.

He pulled it out and looked at it carefully. It was Zoë’s or one just like it. He looked up to see both officers watching him closely.

‘Is her phone?’ one asked, holding out his hand.

Jake was about to hand it over when something stopped him and he looked at the screen. Eighteen missed calls and he recognised his mum’s number. And a text, timed at 8:15 last evening, which he opened: Tks 4 ur support 2day txt me soon luv Sxo

The policeman was looking annoyed.

‘Yeah, it’s her phone,’ Jake said and put it in the officer’s outstretched hand.