The verdict had been bad, it could not have been worse, but it was at least declared and out in the open. That evening the port was swarming with people. Old and young, entire families, people who rarely came to the port at night, those who did only on holidays or when there was an event. The shops, restaurants and cafes were doing a booming trade. Three more policemen had arrived by boat and now Manoussos’s investigative team’s presence could be felt everywhere. They were interviewing everyone casually as they wandered about and not so casually in the police station. The place was alive with talk about Arnold and his undoing. And speculation as to who had done it? Well, there wasn’t any. That was what kept everyone intrigued, the mystery of Arnold’s death. And that was all they could talk about – how it was possible for a man, a friend, a neighbour, whom they had all known so well, to have met such a mysterious end. Manoussos and his team were asking for information: anything that anyone could tell them about Arnold that might lead them to someone with a motive for murder.
