The Ice Cage — A Scandinavian Crime Thriller set in the Nordic Winter (The Baltic Trilogy) (20 page)

I waded
throu
gh a dark pin
e forest, plough
ing
my way up hills and through deep snow,
m
iles away from any rescue, let alone a police station. Every step I sank deeper into the snow, not to mention the twigs a
nd branches poking my eyes out, with t
he pain
of my lost
toe
adding to the agony
. I was pouring with sweat, my heart beating a
t
double speed. Had my father been through this? Had he seen w
hat I’d seen? I was exhausted and d
idn’t know how long I’
d been running, but I couldn’t stop. I didn’t, because that would mean giving up
. If I listened to my body
,
I wouldn’t get anywhere.

This
was
about taking the pain
, s
uffering through it, but
I
really
thought I’d never make it.
I wasn’t even sure I was going in
the right direction
–
away from the church.
For all
I knew
,
I might be going in circles.
After a while
,
everything
started looking
the same
–
f
orest, ice, forest, ic
e… in eternity
.
I was running from island to island, forest to forest.
I kept telling myself that
I was doing it for my father
and f
or Anna. If it was her I’d seen
she needed all the support she could get. Eventually I
dared
look over my shoulder, but
I couldn’t see my follower
any more
. Where was he? I doubted he’
d given up and gone for a pint.

I tried t
o figure out where I was
,
but
didn’t have a clue. I was completely
lost. The night sky was clear and I knew how to locate the polar star
,
but
not
how to navigate with
it.

39

Knowing where I was likely to end up, he must have
taken
a short cut and hid
den
in the shadow of the
large pine tree. He shov
ed me
violently
in the back as I passed
, making me land face first
in the snow.
When he approached me gun in hand,
it was desperate measures. There was no time to think. I just
scooped up as much snow
as I could and threw it at him
,
which forced him to shoot blindly
into the snow screen.

I
had gained a second to
figure out a way to
delay my death.
He’d missed
with his
firs
t shot because I’d rolled away
,
but he wouldn’t miss a second time. I had an idea and quickly crawled
under the
pine tree
as he fired again
. He
came after me through the low
-
h
anging branches covered in snow, chasing
me around the tree
, but I was faster and h
e couldn’t get a
clear
shot. He
had to stop
to catch his breath.
It was a small victory
–
I couldn’t hide behind the tree forever.

When
he set after
me again, I d
ecided to take him by surprise and
attack him. I sprinted to catch up with him f
rom behind, lunging
to catch his legs in a rugby tackle
. I made him trip over and jump
ed onto his back, kicking the
gun
out of his hand
. I was
frantic
,
terrified,
this was life or death, him or me
, n
o prisoners.
When I picked up the gun, h
e turned to punch
me, but I held onto the gun and a
s he pulled me down and rolled o
ver me, I squeezed the trigger and s
hot him in
the stomach, again and a
gain until I ran out of bullets.
I stared at his b
ody in the
ensuing
sile
nce
– I’d killed a man
,
before stumbling off in the snow.
It
couldn’t be
me
c
overed in blood
splatter, but this was no time for dithering.
I had to keep going f
or my father.
I
walked
on
like a zombie without looking back.

4
0

I fi
nally arrived at a
main road, s
oaking wet, bedraggled and covered in blood.
I was a total mess wit
h too much going on in my head, unable to shake
the image of the man lying in the snow holding his stom
ach. All I could see was blood
–
everything was red.
I had to get
to
the police
,
but there were no cars, so I walked
and walked
.
The wounds from
my
missing finger and toe were hurting and I fell over several times, bruising my knees.
I was a
wreck.

T
he police station was closed. I’d been lucky the first time
. T
hey were only open two hours a day in winter
time
. All I had now was
a mobile number. Brilliant!
I didn’t
even have a bloody phone and t
he
main street was deserted, t
he café
closed.
I
ran
back to my father’s house
.

When I
g
ot through
on the phone,
I recognised the voice of the p
olice woman who’d saved my life,
Eva Mikaelsson.
She seemed to be the
only police officer
on the island.
S
he
must have been
watching telly
–
I could hear a laughter track in the background
.

‘
This is the police?
’

‘
Yes. How can I help
?
’

‘
It’s Magnus Sandberg. I
saw a woman being molested
.
’

‘
Can you say that again?
’

‘
They were
going to rape
her!
’

‘
Calm down, w
hat exactly did you see?
’

‘
It was at the wooden church
.
She was being attacked
by two men.
’

‘
Did they see you?
’

‘
I was peeping through a window.
’

‘
You saw this through a window?
’

‘
I think it was
Anna, the woman my father was looking for. They’ll kill her.
’

‘
They’re making a film.
’

‘
It was for real!
’

‘
It’s meant to look real.
They re
-
enact historical scenes for the exhibition.
Didn’t you see the camera?
’

‘
There was no camera.
’

‘
Did you see lighting
?
’

I started to doubt.
I’d heard
a voice
from a corner, but
I hadn’t been able to see anyone
.
Boeck had come out when they were looking for me, so he must have been standing there.

‘Boeck was there.’

‘It’s his job.’

‘
There were armed
guards. Why would there be
guards
?
’

‘
Maybe t
he insurance company demands it.
’

I
hadn’t seen much worth stealing and not many suspicious passers
-
by either for that sake
– except me.
I almost told her I’d killed
one of the men in
self
-
defence
,
but
decided to wait
–
s
he was makin
g me doubt. Maybe she was right
about the
guards
being
legit
.
That would mean
I’d killed a man who was just
trying to do his job.
How would I have reacted if I’d been a guard and found someone snooping around?
What about s
omeone
swinging
a pair of skate
s
at me
when I asked him to follow me?
Looking back, I realised
I
’d
actually been the
first to resort to violence. Could
it have been
an ordinary
film shoot? Had I
ki
lled out of
mispl
aced paranoia? This was insane.

‘
We can’t intervene every time there is
violence o
n a film shoot... Your reaction tells me
they’re doing a good job.
Y
ou’v
e
lost your father and you’re
emotional
.
You shouldn’t spe
nd your nights roaming the ice.
’

I was lost.
A
ll my instincts had
been on red alert, but
maybe I’d been
fooled
by the circumstances. M
y
fears
were
creat
ing a reality that wasn’t
there and
I needed reassurance.

‘
Do you know Boeck?
’

‘
Everyone knows him. H
e’s not the type to organise ga
ng rapes.
Everyone
would know.
’

‘I
heard him
barking orders, threatening to kill a man if he didn’t find me.’

‘I find that hard to believe.
’

‘I heard him.’

‘
Sure you couldn’t have
mishear
d
him
?’

‘I recognised his voice.’

‘
He would never…’

‘But I swear…’

‘
You really need to go to bed.’

T
here was
absolutely
no way I was going to sleep
, let alone sit still,
after what I’d seen, or thought I’d seen
Anna subjected to and after what I’d done to those two guards. I was terrified, in a state of complete shock
and expected Boeck to turn
up any second to make me pay for the deaths of his men.
Everything kept going round in my head. Although
Boeck
had
denied it, he
knew
A
nna
.
Plus
t
he church
was one of the
last places my father visited a
nd rev
isited. It must mea
n something
,
but did it mean
it was
related to
his
death
?

Looking at the GPS, it seemed to be the last place he’d gone, except for the odd photos of Sven’s and Thor’s places.
Boeck
had said my father worked for him and
I
needed to check out the museum to
see if I could find
out more about their connection
.
T
he museum
was the
only significant location in my father’s
life
that
I
still
hadn’t visited.
I wanted to know for sure that
Eva was right –
that
I
was
definitely
overreacting
.
I grabbed a torch, but
before going I
remembered to give
Carrie
a ring. I didn’t want to tell her what was going on, only that I missed her
.
My ca
I
l
woke her up.