The Last Refuge (32 page)

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Authors: Craig Robertson

Tags: #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery, #Thrillers & Suspense, #Crime, #Crime Fiction

BOOK: The Last Refuge
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‘No! You cannot do this.’

‘Watch me.’

I turned and walked away, closing the door behind me before hauling three drums in front of it. He did scream, but the wind was already taking it and keeping it for its own.

Chapter 48

I parked the hired Peugeot in town, on a road near the SMS shopping centre, where it wouldn’t attract attention. From there I began to walk home.

The early morning start, not to mention what I’d done to Nils Dam, was beginning to tell on me, and the hills seemed steeper than normal. My walking was laboured and my head was heavy.

Just a hundred yards or so from the beginning of Dalevegur, I heard a car behind me and, with a creeping, guilt-borne dread, became aware of it slowing. It edged in front of me and I knew the green Toyota immediately. Inspector Broddi Tunheim.

The driver-side window dropped and he leaned his head forward so he could look straight at me over his spectacles. Surely he hadn’t followed me all the way? Could he see the ugly truth written on my face?

‘Good day, Mr Callum. You don’t seem to be enjoying your walk so much. Get in. I’ll give you a drive to the top of the hill.’

I hadn’t broken stride. ‘No, thanks. It’s a fine day and it would be a pity to waste it.’

Tunheim smiled. ‘You are learning, Mr Callum. The Faroes are working their own magic on you. But please, get in. I thought we had an understanding now. Sure as sure I did. Anyway, I want to talk to you, Mr Callum. I think it is important that we talk. I have something I want to tell you.’

Maybe it was fear that my guilt would give me away. Maybe I was just worried that Tunheim so often seemed to know more than he let on, and so often asked questions that he already knew the answer to. I sighed and stopped, walking round to duck inside the door that he pushed open for me.

‘Did you leave home early today, Mr Callum? I called before but you weren’t at home.’

Something heavy dropped in my chest. Tunheim worried me.

‘Yes, I just wanted to get out and clear my head. When were you there?’

He looked at me curiously. ‘A little time ago. You seem distracted. Is there something I should know?’

A vision of Nils Dam flooded my head as I shook it. It was a snow globe of guilt turned upside down.

‘Hm. Okay. Sometimes I think I can tell when a person is bothered by things. Maybe I am wrong. Anyway . . . we are here.’

Tunheim pulled the car to a stop and put on the handbrake. He said nothing for an age, prompting me to do so, despite myself.

‘You said there was something you wanted to tell me, Inspector?’

‘Ah yes. So there was. Thank you for reminding me.’

Another pause. ‘What was it?’

He turned in his seat so that he was looking straight at me.

‘I know that you didn’t kill Aron Dam.’

Chapter 49

I could barely speak. The huge lump that had suddenly formed in my throat left no room for words.

‘Are you okay, Mr Callum? You seem shocked. Should I get you some water, perhaps?’

‘What? No, I’m . . . I’m fine. Is that all you have to say?’

Tunheim smiled as he took off his glasses and wiped them clean, prolonging the moment for his own satisfaction.

‘No, no. Of course not. As if I would say something like that and keep you waiting to hear the rest of my news.’

Yeah. As if.

‘You will remember, of course, Mr Callum, how you told me that you fell asleep on the fish slabs at Undir Bryggjubakka.’

‘Of course I do. And I remember how you already knew that.’

Tunheim made a face. ‘Ah yes. I apologise. I played a little game. Anyway. You know that the slabs are near the Hotel Torshavn. Of course you do. But do you know that the hotel has a webcam? You know, a fixed camera that people can watch on the Internet.’

‘No, I didn’t.’

‘Not many people do. Unless you live here, of course. Like me. Anyway. The manager of the hotel is a friend of mine, so I went to him and asked to see the webcam footage. And for him to keep the information to himself, as it was very important. You understand?’

‘Will you just tell me?’

He smiled. ‘Yes, yes. Of course. I went through the film and you were there asleep at the time you told me. Which was very good. You arrived there very drunk. Not coming from Tinganes at all, but from the opposite direction. This made me happy. But I kept watching. It is not moving film, you understand. It takes photographs. Every few seconds. Later, someone else comes. Someone in a long red raincoat, with the hood over their head so their face cannot be seen. This person walks straight to where you are sleeping. And do you know what they do?’

‘For Christ’s sake . . .’

‘They put something in your pocket.’

I had no breath. Tunheim’s words punched me hard in the guts.

‘Yes. There is no doubt. The person stood over you and put something in the pocket of your coat. Do you know what that thing might be?’

I nodded dumbly and stammered an answer. ‘Yes.’

‘Then you must tell me, Mr Callum.’

‘It was a
grindaknivur
.’

When Tunheim took off his glasses I nearly snatched them from his hands and broke them. He cleaned them slowly and deliberately.

‘Tell me about the knife, please.’

I sighed, my stomach knotted with conflicting emotions, my thoughts tumbling over each other.

‘It had blood on the blade. Fresh blood.’

Tunheim clapped his hands together happily. ‘Now this is good. This is very good, Mr Callum. Ah, but . . .’ he manufactured a frown, ‘. . . I have to wonder why you didn’t bring this knife to the police. But no matter, for now. You can tell me that later. For now, you know where this
grindaknivur
is?

I nodded. ‘Park where I tell you then follow me.’

I wanted to throw up. I hadn’t,
hadn’t
, killed Aron Dam. The sleepless nights had provided me with the right answer, in the end. I had been sure, but Tunheim had confirmed it. My stomach burned with acid that threatened to rise up and scald my throat. I hadn’t killed Aron Dam. I hadn’t killed anyone. Yet.

Nils Dam was tied up, freezing to death in the old whaling station. Fucking Tunheim and his games. Couldn’t he have told me this the night before? Couldn’t he have let me know before . . . Christ, I had to get to Nils Dam. What the hell had I done?

Tunheim walked beside me, chattering nonsense about his wife, the Danish cops and the man in the red raincoat with his hood up. All I heard was Nils Dam’s name over and over again.

We got onto the path towards my shack – the well-worn, often-trodden track towards what had become my home. The path that Nils Dam had taken to throw blood over my door. Blood.

The three stones lay where I knew they would be, but I still stopped sharply, causing Tunheim to almost bump into me.

‘Here? You left the knife here? This was not very wise, Mr Callum. Show me where exactly.’

I pointed dumbly and Tunheim pulled a pair of leather gloves from the pocket of his coat. They weren’t exactly the kind of thing that Nicoline Munk would have used, but the inspector seemed happy enough. He crouched down and moved the stones aside before raking at the earth.

After a few moments, he looked up at me questioningly. He rummaged around for a few moments more before standing up, looking far from pleased.

‘There is nothing here, Mr Callum. Have you made some kind of mistake?’

Chapter 50

Tunheim and I had walked no more than a few yards towards the shack when we were interrupted. The sound of an approaching car, then a door slamming, made us both turn towards the road. Moments later we saw two heads bob into view. The sight caused both of us to swear under our breath.

Climbing the hill, striding out in unison, were Nymann and Kielstrup. The inspector led the way, his black leather jacket incongruous against nature’s greens and browns. The sergeant followed behind, all business-like, giving the impression that he was longing to board the first flight back to civilization.

‘Oh fucking wonderful. The cavalry arrives.’ Tunheim managed to smile and swear at the same time. He even gave a friendly wave to the approaching Danes.

His seeming affability was not returned. Nymann looked furious. He spoke in English, presumably for my benefit.

‘What are you doing here, Tunheim?’

‘In Torshavn? My father’s fault, Inspector. He was a kindly man and a hard worker, but he lacked any ambition to live anywhere else. I think I caught the disease from him. I was born here and I will die here.’

Nymann leaned forward from the waist, trying to get a closer look at the imbecile in front of him. ‘Why are you at this man’s home? You are not part of this case and I would take a serious view of anything that interfered with my investigation. I am sure your superiors would too.’

Tunheim’s arms spread, the misunderstood man. ‘My superiors. There are so many of them, Inspector, that it would take a month to canvass their opinions on such a matter. But let me assure you, the last thing I would want to do is intrude on your case. My God, this is a murder inquiry, after all. I would not even know where to start investigating such a thing. That is why we are all so glad that you and the sergeant are here to take charge.’

I saw the glance that flashed between Nyman and Kielstrup.
They
were Tunheim’s superiors. Or so they thought.

‘Yes, okay, okay. But why are you here then?’

‘A local matter, Inspector. The kind of thing I am more used to dealing with. Mr Callum’s property was vandalized.’

‘What?’

Tunheim’s glasses were in his hand and he was carefully wiping the lenses. ‘Yes. Someone threw blood over his door. I am taking it very seriously.’

I didn’t let anything show on my face. Least of all my astonishment that Tunheim knew about the incident.

‘When did this happen, Mr Callum?’ Nymann’s gaze switched back and forth between Tunheim and me.

‘A couple of days ago. I cleaned it off.’

‘This . . . this should have been reported. To me.’

Tunheim slipped his spectacles back on his head. ‘And it will be, Inspector. As soon as I return to the station. It was most likely someone not happy that Mr Callum had been released from custody. Like yourself, Inspector.’

Nymann’s eyes narrowed. ‘Are you accusing me of putting blood on that door?’

‘Of course, not. What an idea. Someone who, like you, was not happy that Mr Callum was not still locked up. We do not get many murders here. It makes people nervous. Then they can do stupid things.’

Nymann sighed theatrically. ‘And that is the only reason you are here, Inspector Tunheim?’

‘It is.’

‘And you know nothing else?’

‘I don’t.’

‘Then you may as well leave, as I need to interview Mr Callum.’

‘Actually, I would like to stay, Inspector. It is unlikely I will ever investigate a murder, but I’d be grateful to learn anything I can from experts like you and the sergeant. It is an opportunity I may not get again.’

Nymann stared at Tunheim for an age before shaking his head and turning his back on him without a word. From across the Dane’s shoulder, I caught the hint of a smile on Broddi’s face. He and I were now evidently complicit in our lies to the Danes.

‘Mr Callum, you will answer questions without your lawyer being present, yes?’

‘That depends on the questions. Why don’t we see how it goes?’

Nymann didn’t like that, but Tunheim did – I could tell by his smirk.

‘Okay. I have witnesses saying that you have been violent during your time in the Faroe Islands. Is that correct?’

‘You know it is. I had an altercation with Aron Dam in the Cafe Natur the night before he was killed. It was brought up in court.’

‘You are correct, of course. And there was at least one other occasion, no?’

I remembered Toki standing outside the police station, his finger jabbing towards me. ‘There was a fight in the fish farm where I worked. But you already knew that. Martin Hojgaard told you about it.’

He sneered. ‘And he was not the only one. Your victim did so too. And he has told us about other occasions in the workplace where you threatened him or barged into him while he was carrying out his duties. Do you deny this?’

I had known for little more than twenty minutes that I was, beyond doubt, innocent of the murder of Aron Dam. Now I was being neatly fitted up for it. I was far from happy about that, but I was far calmer than I might have been. Toki’s claims surely wouldn’t stand up in court. The likelihood was that Nymann knew that too. He was here to rattle my cage.

‘I do deny it, Inspector. Is there anything else?’

‘Yes, Mr Callum, there is. Did you ever publicly threaten to harm Aron Dam?’

What the hell was this?

‘No.’

‘Are you sure. Think carefully. This might be very important.’

I was thinking carefully. Very.

‘I didn’t do that, no.’

‘It is important because if you had publicly proclaimed your intention to harm, or even kill, Mr Dam . . . well that would be very injurious to your case, don’t you think?’

‘That is a question I won’t answer, Inspector. Not without my lawyer. This interview is over.’

Nymann nodded curtly then smiled. ‘As you wish, Mr Callum. We shall arrange for your lawyer to be present. Soon.’

He had rattled my cage. Mission accomplished.

‘So, Inspector Tunheim.’ He turned to face him. ‘I hope you learned something.’

Broddi scratched at his head and then slipped his glasses from his nose. ‘Well I think I did, Inspector. I think I did. I will need to sit down and analyse it to make sure. But it was a lesson, for sure. For now I will stay and examine Mr Callum’s door.’

Nymann and the silent Kielstrup grinned at each other and turned back down the hill without another word.

‘So what
did
you learn, Broddi?’ I asked as we watched the Danes depart.

‘That although you are a fool, you are perhaps not the biggest fool currently on the Faroes.’

‘Is that all?’

‘And that we need somewhere quieter for you and I to have a proper talk.’

Chapter 51

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