Cloak of Silence (Jake Harding Adventures Book 1)

Long shadows stretched across Zengounas beach as the sun rose over the slope of Mount Pantokrator, promising a beautiful day.

Jake sat on the terrace, a bowl of cereal on the table and a piece of paper in his hand. He had already memorised the decoded message: ‘I am now a silent monk but I must speak to you. Wait for me at the chapel door at five pm’.

The chapel was in the heart of the monastery, so he would have to get in past the monk in the reception hall. If he just went in as a visitor and paid the entrance fee, they surely wouldn’t stop him. They might if they thought he was trying to see Taki, but he could make up some story about a school project on old buildings if Father Theo saw him. As long as he and Taki weren’t seen together, it should be alright.

But if Taki really was a silent order monk how would he talk to him? And what was it he wanted to tell him?

Bill Blizzard certainly thought that the monastery was involved. He examined his wrists; the deep indentations made by the handcuffs had disappeared overnight, but the memory of the evening at the house up on the hill wouldn’t fade so quickly. The events played themselves back to him again like high definition TV. The old man had been testing him, trying to scare him. Maybe he was simply angry that he had got into his house. But then the handshake and the appeal: ‘I’m relying on you.’

He got to his feet and gazed at the monastery on the opposite headland. What was going on in there? Perhaps at five o’clock he’d find out, but that was a long time to wait.

Halfway along the beach, in front of the taverna, Spyros was walking down to his boat that was, as usual, pulled up above the high tide mark.

Spyros knew everything that happened in the village; he’d go and have a chat with him.

He was carefully examining a net as Jake approached. Fishing was his passion and all his customers knew that ‘fresh fish daily’ on the taverna menu was completely genuine.

‘Ya, Jake,’ he called, raising a hand in greeting. The vest Spyros wore when off duty revealed muscular shoulders but a bigger stomach than he might have wanted. He put down the net and took both Jake’s hands in his, his face a picture of sadness. ‘I am very sorry about your lovely sister. We have done everything we can think of, really.’

Jake nodded and they exchanged brave smiles.

‘Orange juice?’ Spyros suggested, extending an arm towards the empty taverna in invitation.

‘I saw her the day she disappeared,’ he said as they walked up the steps onto the terrace.

‘And she seemed okay?’

‘Yes, she was good.’ Spyros poured glasses of orange juice at the open air bar.

‘So what do you think has happened?’

Spyros looked down into his glass. ‘I…I don’t know,’ he said at last, shaking his head.

Jake looked at him speculatively. ‘I must do what I can to find her. Dad is flat out on the course while my mum spends all her time driving round with Zoë’s picture or dealing with the police and reporters.’

‘The police have anything?’

Jake shrugged. ‘They came with the tracker dog.’

‘They found her track to the bench, right? Then nothing.’

‘They say she’s run away, but that’s impossible.’

‘Fools.’ Spyros shook his head. ‘I called my sister’s husband, Nikolai Andreadis, the minister.  It is a little difficult for me because the marriage is, well…’ He waggled his hand to indicate uncertainty. ‘But I’ll call him again.’

‘Thanks, Spyros. He came very quickly before, but the police don’t seem to be doing much.’

He shook his head again. ‘They have no ideas, maybe,’ he said. After a moment he went on, ‘The villagers are upset about the reports in the papers and on TV and they don’t like it.’

‘Are they worried that someone else may be next?’

‘One or two maybe, but they mostly think she has run away’

‘Is that why the police say she has run away? So that the people won’t worry too much?’

Spyros shrugged and fell silent.

‘Zoë said before she disappeared that Selena has gone to visit her aunt.’

‘Yes, for two weeks,’ Spyros replied.

‘That’s a pity ‘cos I won’t see her this half term.’

‘Yes, a pity,’ Spyros said and drank some more of his juice.

‘She’s okay is she?’ Jake asked.

Spyros looked at him sharply but shrugged and said, ‘Sure, she’s fine.’

‘Does she know about Zoë?’ Jake asked.

Spyros looked uncomfortable and Jake knew the answer to his question. ‘She might have seen about it on TV,’ he said lamely but they both knew she’d have phoned home if she’d heard the news.

‘Maybe you didn’t want to upset her,’ Jake said diplomatically and Spyros nodded. ‘But she might be able to help. She saw Zoë just a few hours before she disappeared.’

‘Okay,’ Spyros said slowly. ‘I will call her tonight and tell her.’

‘And ask her if Zoë said anything that might help us,’ Jake prompted.

‘Sure,’ Spyros said but he seemed reluctant.

‘I saw Taki on Friday,’ Jake changed the subject. ‘He was with other monks, searching for Zoë.’

‘He’s a good boy, my nephew,’ Spyros brightened. ‘I don’t see him much, but Selena gets news from him. How she hears from him, I don’t know.’

Jake knew, but he wasn’t about to reveal the secret. ‘You don’t think the monastery has anything to do with Zoë?’ Jake asked, wondering if Spyros might be offended by the question.

He chose his words carefully as he replied. ‘Father Theo is a gentle, holy man. He’d be sad if anyone believed the monastery was involved.’

‘And Bill Blizzard?’ Jake asked. ‘Could he have anything to do with it?’

‘He is a good customer, maybe my best customer,’ he replied after a moment’s thought. ‘I know him well, but in some ways I don’t know him at all.’

‘Was he here the night Zoë went missing?’

Spyros looked at him keenly. ‘You ask good questions,’ he said. ‘Let me think.’ He looked up at the canvas roof. ‘He was here, but left at the same time I took Selena to the airport, around 8:30.’

Before Zoë went missing.

They exchanged looks, both thinking the same thing.

‘I’ve talked to him,’ Jake said. ‘He seems okay but, like you say, a bit spooky.’ He rubbed his wrist. ‘I’m not sure about him.’

Spyros drained his drink. ‘This is a job for the police,’ he said. ‘But I’ll do what I promised and call Selena and the minister again.’

‘Thanks a lot,’ Jake said and shook Spyros’ outstretched hand.

‘Good luck,’ Spyros called after him.

Spyros remained on the terrace, lost in thought, as Jake jogged home along the beach. Petrina came outside, a duster in her hands, and stood quietly next to her husband.

‘He’s handsome, that one,’ she said at last as Jake reached the end of the beach and swung up towards the adventure school.

‘He’s trying hard to find his sister,’ Spyros said.

‘Selena likes him,’ Petrina said. ‘She has an eye for good looking boys.’

Spyros turned to his wife, his face concerned. ‘Could Zoë be connected to the other problem?’

‘No,’ she said, looking shocked. ‘Surely not.’

Jake pulled the sun hat down low and hurried along the village street, hoping not to see anyone he knew. He felt ridiculous dressed in the bright yellow long-sleeved shirt and old green trousers. It was all Jenny’s doing.

As expected, his dad had been annoyed when he asked to leave the windsurfing class early. To ease the tension, Jenny asked him what he had been wearing when he was intercepted at the monastery last time.

‘A Thunder Bay polo shirt and jeans,’ he replied. ‘Why?’

‘Well, today you should go in disguise.’

‘Disguise? What, a gorilla suit or something?’

Jenny rolled her eyes. ‘Don’t be daft. Make yourself look like a tourist and nobody will notice you. A colourful shirt, flip flops, dark glasses, a sun hat and a camera.’

‘I’ll feel like an idiot,’ he complained.

‘You’ll look like a tourist,’ she told him crisply.

The windsurfing class had gone well. Rob had asked Jenny and him to take turns with the rescue boat and helping the beginners. But there had been more trouble from Doug.

‘I want a proper instructor, not some kid telling me what to do,’ Doug had said when Jake showed them how to rig their boards.

Rob and Jenny didn’t hear the remark and Jake ignored him but he knew from Doug’s stare that he was going to needle him whenever he got the chance.

Doug, Liv, Cath and Jamal were all proficient, although Jamal struggled with his contact lenses. They went out into the bay with Rob while Jake looked after Ruby and Sam who were both beginners, starting them on the dry-land simulator.

While Jenny helped Ruby, Jake had spent much of the class with Sam. Rob had briefed him about Sam before the class. Two years ago Sam and his brother had been blown out to sea on air mattresses while on summer holidays with their parents in Portugal. The boys had been rescued by surfers after a terrifying hour in the open sea, but a dread of the sea remained with Sam. He had come on the adventure course knowing that water sports were part of the programme and determined to overcome his fear. Rob had asked Jake to get to know Sam and build his trust. He was small for his age and Jake made sure that his lifejacket fitted well so that it wouldn’t ride up over his head when he fell in.  They chatted about sport at school and Sam’s interest in football and martial arts.

Eventually Sam and Jake had their boards out in the bay and by the time Jake had to leave, Sam had made good progress and even came up grinning when he fell off for the third time. But when Jake explained that he had to go and that Jenny would look after him, his face clouded over and he made his way back to the beach.

As he climbed the hill towards the monastery, Jake looked back and saw five boards out in the bay and the small figure of Sam sitting by himself on the beach.

‘Taki, I really hope this is worth it,’ he said through gritted teeth.

The sense of serenity in the monastery was masked by a group of backpackers standing at the ticket desk discussing whose turn it was to pay. This noisy exchange about money and boisterous laughter felt wrong in this hallowed place, but the monk at the desk appeared unfazed by what he must have thought unseemly behaviour.

It was not a monk that Jake had seen before which must improve his chances. He stood behind the backpackers and it looked to any casual observer that he was part of their group. They decided at last that they would each pay for themselves and the monk simply counted out five tickets, which included Jake, and took the money from each of them in turn.

He told the group to leave their backpacks in a side room. Jake was last to pay and as the monk took his money, he looked at him intently.

Jake thought he’d been busted but the monk simply said, ‘Please take off your hat inside the building.’

He trailed after the group feeling less conspicuous that way than on his own. Taki had shown him around last year so he knew the areas open to the public fairly well. Much of the interior was simple but the chapel was adorned with painted panels and gold and silver artefacts. In the heart of the monastery, a small courtyard with cloisters on all four sides was open to the sky with a huge fig tree at its centre. The four backpackers eventually discovered the monastery museum and Jake followed them in. They were busy chatting and taking photographs and took no notice of him. The museum contained a collection of illuminated manuscripts, some of which were on display in glass-topped tables. Alongside the shelves of books, display cabinets contained silver chalices and miniature reliquaries.

He waited until just before five o’clock before making his way to the chapel where dozens of candles flickered in the gloom and the air was heavy with the scent of burning wax.

A few visitors were looking at the icons and relics that adorned the walls and filled the numerous niches. The eyes of one of the paintings followed him around. It felt spooky, so he stepped out into the cloister and occupied himself by examining the tall stained glass window opposite the chapel door.

Time ticked by and several visitors walked past, some stopping to admire the window. At last a monk came into view at the end of the corridor. He wore the regulation ankle length black habit with a dark cream rope knotted at his waist. His full dark beard was showing signs of grey and a silver cross on a chain around his neck caught the light from the window.

The monk almost floated down the corridor towards him. Jake realised that he had been staring when the monk smiled at him, a warm smile from an essentially good man with a calm face and gentle brown eyes.

Jake returned the smile. Surely the monastery could have nothing to do with Zoë’s disappearance if the monks were like that.

After a minute someone else appeared and he immediately recognised Taki. He was walking quickly and did not have the serene expression of the older monk. As he swept past, his leather sandals slapping on the paving stones, he jerked his head slightly to indicate that Jake should follow.

Jake dutifully fell in step a short distance behind. Taki soon turned off the main corridor and into the museum.

It was approaching closing time and the room was deserted, but Taki still glanced behind him furtively as he crossed to the furthest corner. He stopped at one of the massive stone columns and put his foot against a piece of skirting board. Jake spun around at a loud click behind them and exclaimed in surprise as a door sized section of panelling between two massive display cases sprang open.

Taki grinned delightedly at Jake. ‘Cool, right?’

The panelling creaked slightly as he pulled the door fully open and stepped into a pitch-dark corridor beyond.

‘Brilliant!’ Jake exclaimed, relieved that Taki had actually spoken. Flashes of light lit up the corridor and he realised with relief that it was just the fluorescent lighting flickering into life.

Taki pulled the panel closed behind them. There was an ordinary handle on the inside and, at eye-level, a small brass-rimmed spy-hole that reminded Jake of his Gran’s front door.

‘Great to see you,’ Taki exclaimed, his face lit by a relieved smile.

‘You too, brother!’ Jake gripped his hand warmly.

‘I knew you would work out my message. But, listen,’ Taki’s face clouded. ‘If they find me talking to you, I’m in deep trouble.’

‘Where do we go if somebody comes through there?’ Jake asked, looking around. A flight of stone stairs led from the short length of corridor downwards into the depths of the ancient building.

‘C’mon,’ said Taki, heading down the stairs. ‘Prayers start soon,’ he called over his shoulder. ‘But in case, there’s a basement… ‘

The walls here were rough hewn blocks of stone that contrasted with the finely crafted masonry on the upper levels of the building. The temperature fell as they descended and the walls were slightly damp. The staircase ended in another short length of corridor leading to a door set into brickwork built across what had once been an open archway. The space above the brick wall was secured with a heavy metal grille.

A digital keypad set into the doorframe was strangely out of keeping with the ancient stone walls. Taki punched the keys and the lock released with a metallic click. As the door opened it revealed a wide corridor paved with wide stone slabs worn smooth by leather sandals over the centuries. The floor caught the light from a tiny windowpane in an outside door at the furthest end.

It was like looking down an ancient cloister, but the arches on each side had been closed off with brickwork walls, each with a door at its centre like the door at the foot of the stairs. A collection of monks’ robes hung on rows of hooks on either side of the corridor.

‘If anybody comes; you see that far door?’ Taki pointed. ‘It leads out onto the back garden, so don’t worry.’

‘Not locked?’ Jake asked.

‘No, not locked, but the gate up at the bench is locked. Here’s a key if you need it.’ Taki fished in a deep pocket in his robe and pulled out a brass key, which he pressed into Jake’s hand.

Jake pocketed the key and turned his attention to his friend.

Taki was gazing into the distance down the wide corridor. He ran a hand through his long dark hair and frowned. ‘There is a kitchen along there where I spent some of time today, when I wasn’t in the main kitchen upstairs.’

‘Have you really joined the silent order?’ Jake couldn’t help sounding concerned.

‘I must do what they want,’ Taki said in a tone of resignation. ‘All I do is work now. There are people coming here on pilgrimage, but they won’t stay for long…’

‘Pilgrimage?’ asked Jake, surprised.

‘Yes, they are on their way to Rome. To St Peters I think. We are also Agios Petros here so maybe that’s why they come.’

Jake jumped as the fluorescent lights suddenly went out. Now only the late afternoon sunshine filtering through the small windowpane in the distant door provided any light.

‘The timer,’ Taki explained apologetically. ‘But it’s safer like this.’

‘Hey, Taki, thanks for the messages.’

‘Sure, I send messages to Selena a lot. I like to stay in touch.’

‘You said there’s something you couldn’t write down.’

‘I heard two of the brothers talking,’ Taki said after a brief pause to collect his thoughts. ‘They were arguing and didn’t know I was listening.’

‘Who are they?’

‘The silent ones. There are four of them and two are really strange; Father John and Brother Warren. They lived in Africa, Father Theo said as missionaries, but…’ Jake’s eyes were getting used to the darkness and he could see Taki pulling a face as if he didn’t understand or didn’t believe what he had been told.

‘They talk about hunting – they are not like monks, Jake. They are,’ he paused, searching for the right word, but eventually settling for ‘crazy.’

‘They’re silent monks, but they’re talking?’

‘Yes, only to each other but that’s surely not right? And Brother Warren bosses me round. Father John is scary; Warren calls him Scorp.’

‘Scorp? That’s wierd.’

‘He’s got a huge tattoo of a scorpion on his hand and up his arm.’

‘But did you hear what they said?’ Jake prompted.

Taki had gone over what he had heard many times, trying to make sense of it and making sure he didn’t forget any detail. ‘I heard a bit. They were blaming each other for a problem, I think. Warren talked about blitzing someone.’

‘Blitzing? What the heck’s that?’

‘I don’t know.’ Taki frowned and was about to say something further when the fluorescent lights flickered on.

They stared at each other in horror, but Taki reacted first and pushed Jake through the doorway.

‘Taki, where are you?’ a voice called out from the top of the stairs.

Taki whispered, ‘Get out of here otherwise we’re in trouble.’

They exchanged high fives in quick farewell.

‘Check there’s nobody in the garden, then go out the door,’ Taki hissed.

Jake whispered, ‘Cheers,’ before the door swung shut, the lock clicking with a loud finality.

A moment later he heard an aggressive voice through the open grille above the door. ‘Come on, man, you should be in the main kitchen.’

‘Coming, Brother Warren,’ Taki replied meekly.

Jake, in the cool half-light behind the heavy steel door, decided that he didn’t like the sound of Brother Warren.