Memories of Misnight by Sidney Sheldon

She picked up her husband’s swim trunks that she had taken from the house and carried them out to the beach. She wet them in the water and returned to the house. Finally, there was only one thing left to do. It’s time, she thought. She took a deep breath and slowly picked up the butcher knife and unwrapped it, careful not to disturb the tissue paper that covered the handle. Melina held it in her hand, staring at it. This was the crucial part. She had to stab herself hard enough to make it look like murder, and at the same time have enough strength left to carry out the rest of her plan.

She closed her eyes and plunged the knife deep into her side.

The pain was excruciating. Blood began to pour out. Melina held the wet bathing trunks to her side, and when they were covered with blood she walked over to a closet and shoved them in the back. She was beginning to feel dizzy. She looked around to make sure she had not missed anything, then she stumbled toward the door that led to the beach, her blood staining the carpet a bright crimson.

She moved toward the ocean. The blood was coming out faster now, and she thought, I’m not going to make it. Costa is going to win. I mustn’t let him.

The walk to the ocean seemed to take forever. One more step, she thought. One more step.

She kept walking, fighting the dizziness that engulfed her. Her vision was beginning to blur. She fell to her knees. I mustn’t stop now. She rose and kept walking until she felt the cold water lapping at her feet.

When the salt water hit her wound, she screamed aloud with the unbearable pain. I’m doing it for Spyros, she thought. Dear Spyros.

In the distance she could see a low cloud hovering over the horizon. She began to swim toward it, trailing a stream of blood. And a miracle happened. The cloud came down to her, and she could feel its white softness enveloping her, bathing her, caressing her. The pain was gone now, and she felt a wonderful feeling of peace steal over her.

I’m going home, Melina thought happily. I’m going home at last.

Chapter Twenty-six

I’m placing you under arrest for the murder of your wife.

After that, everything seemed to happen in slow motion. He was booked, and fingerprinted again. He had his picture taken, and was placed in a prison cell. It was unbelievable that they would dare do this to him.

“Get me Peter Demonides. Tell him I want to see him right now.”

“Mr. Demonides has been relieved of his duties. He’s under investigation.”

So there was no one to turn to. I’ll get out of this, he thought. I’m Constantin Demiris.

He sent for the special prosecutor.

Delma arrived at the prison one hour later. “You asked to see me?”

“Yes,” Demiris said. “I understand you’ve established the time of my wife’s death at three o’clock.”

“That is correct.”

“Then before you embarrass yourself and the police department any further, I can prove that I was nowhere near the beach house at that hour yesterday.”

“You can prove that?”

“Of course. I have a witness.”

They were seated in the police commissioner’s office when Spyros Lambrou arrived. Demiris’s face lit up when he saw him.

“Spyros, thank God you’re here! These idiots think I murdered Melina. You know I couldn’t have. Tell them.”

Spyros Lambrou frowned. “Tell them what?”

“Melina was killed at three o’clock yesterday afternoon. You and I were together at Acrocorinth at three o’clock. I couldn’t have driven back to the beach house before seven. Tell them about our meeting.”

Spyros Lambrou was staring at him. “What meeting?”

The blood began to drain from Demiris’s face. “The…the meeting you and I had yesterday. At the lodge at Acrocorinth.”

“You must be confused, Costa. I was out driving alone yesterday afternoon. I’m not going to lie for you.”

Constantin Demiris’s face filled with rage. “You can’t do this!” He grabbed the lapels of Lambrou’s jacket. “Tell them the truth.”

Spyros Lambrou pushed him away. “The truth is that my sister is dead and you murdered her.”

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