by Hanna Allen
‘In the Chapel. Didn’t I tell you? As I came in, I thought I saw someone behind a pillar.’
‘Could you describe this person?’ he said softly.
‘It was a movement, nothing more, out of the corner of my eye. When I heard Harry groaning, I forgot everything else.’
‘If the murderer was behind a pillar and saw that Harry was still alive, he might think Harry would tell you who he was. Or give you some hint.’
Fear caught at my throat. Here, then, was a possible motive for the attempt on my life.
Hallengren must have seen the shock on my face, but he continued. ‘He might assume you would uncover his identity eventually, so he would be seeking the next opportunity to kill you.’
My stomach clenched. ‘Why are you telling me this?’
‘Because, Miss Stewart,’ he said, emphasising the words, ‘he may still be looking for an opportunity to kill you. You need to be aware of that.’
‘Maybe it wasn’t like that,’ I groaned. ‘Maybe the killer followed me to the Icehotel, thinking I was someone else. You can’t tell who people are in these snowsuits.’
He said nothing.
‘Wasn’t there any evidence in the Chapel? He left his snowsuit behind. Was anyone nearby not wearing one?’
‘There were dozens of guests in the Excelsior without snowsuits,’ he said gently. ‘And many people, Swedes in particular, go outside for short periods without one. I am not wearing a snowsuit today, as you can see.’
‘Perhaps the killer didn’t follow me to the Icehotel. Perhaps he was already there.’
Hallengren smiled apologetically. ‘And what would the killer be doing in the Icehotel?’
‘Covering his tracks?’ But I knew I was clutching at straws.
‘There were no tracks to cover, Miss Stewart. Fingerprints cannot be lifted from compressed snow, footprints from snowboots are all the same and, anyway, the ground in the Icehotel and Chapel is always well trampled. Our forensic team found nothing we could use for DNA testing at either crime scene.’
‘Maybe Denny saw him too,’ I said eagerly.
‘Mr Hinckley?’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘The reporter?’
‘I’m sure he was the man I followed to the Icehotel.’
‘I had worked that out for myself, Miss Stewart,’ he said wryly. ‘Unfortunately, Mr Hinckley seems to have left.’
‘Already?’
‘Early this morning, we think. The maid found his room empty, and all his personal effects gone. The manager is concerned.’ He inclined his head. ‘Mr Hinckley left without paying his bill.’
‘Typical,’ I said, smiling. ‘Now that he’s got his precious photographs, he’s high-tailed it back to Stockholm.’
Hallengren didn’t seem to find the situation amusing. ‘He will not get far. There are only a limited number of ways he can travel.’
‘You’re not going to arrest him?’
‘Because he deliberately disturbed a crime scene?’ His lips twitched. ‘That is indeed an arrestable offence.’ He paused, letting the message sink in. ‘But, no, we won’t arrest him. However, I would like to speak with him about his escapade in the Icehotel. As you say, he may have seen your assailant.’
I hesitated. ‘And Wilson’s diary, Inspector? Any leads there?’
‘The police in Stockholm were most helpful in supplying the carbons from the missing pages. There was nothing unusual or unexpected. A list of business appointments with Swedish officials.’
‘I don’t understand.’ I set down my mug. ‘Why would anyone want a list of business appointments destroyed?’
‘I have no idea, Miss Stewart.’
‘And the final page?’
‘We were not able to get a copy. I am now convinced that that is the only page the thief wanted to destroy.’
Yes, a thief in a hurry would have grabbed the last few pages without bothering to read them.
‘And the incident with the snowmobiles?’ I said. ‘Is that connected to the murders?’
‘Mr Tullis was not able to tell us anything other than the identity of the people on the path. Given that two of them are dead, it is possible that was the killer’s first attempt.’
If it was, then he botched it. But he surely wouldn’t expect to kill two birds with one stone. So which was the intended victim? Harry? Or Wilson?
‘Miss Stewart, if it was indeed a murder attempt, then whoever loosened those brakes must have known he might kill the wrong person. It tells us something about him that he went ahead.’ A note of impatience crept into his voice. ‘But I have my doubts that it was intentional. The brakes can easily come loose on that model of snowmobile if it is not serviced regularly. I have one like it myself.’
I gazed at him. ‘Inspector, do you have any clue at all as to what’s going on?’
‘There is one possibility we are seriously considering.’ He looked at me curiously. ‘How much do you know about the Stockholm hotel killings?’
‘Next to nothing.’
‘It was in spring last year. I was brought in on the case, as were half the police in Sweden.’ He played with the sugar, sifting it slowly. ‘The guests were murdered in one of Stockholm’s top hotels, in what appeared to be random killings. Later that year the same happened in another hotel. Both were forced to close down because business became so bad. The profile of the killer was that of a psychopath. He was never caught.’
‘How does one recognise a psychopath?’ I said uneasily.
‘If it were only that simple. Psychopaths are surprisingly difficult to recognise. They can be charming, manipulative, experienced liars with a greatly-inflated opinion of themselves. You may not be able to distinguish them from people you meet every day. I certainly cannot.’
‘Half the people I know are like that.’
‘And, of course, they are highly dangerous. They have no conscience.’
I took the sugar spoon from his hand. ‘So, what happened in these hotels?’
‘At first, we thought there were two killers. The killings in the second hotel were a – how do you say it? – a cat copy of the first.’
‘Copycat.’
‘Copycat. But we concluded it was the same person.’
I felt the fear welling. ‘And you think he’s come here?’ I said slowly.
‘I can see similarities. In the Maximilian, the first murder was a drowning in a bath. Then two people were poisoned. The fourth was a woman who was hacked to death with a meat cleaver. But the last murder was something I have never – ’
His expression changed and, for the barest instant, I saw reflected in his eyes, the same fear he must have seen in mine.
I sank back into the sofa, my heart clenching.
‘As I said, Miss Stewart, the killer was never caught. The trail went cold. The case remains open.’
The Maximilian.
‘Inspector,’ I said, sitting up, ‘one of the Danish guests here, Jonas Madsen, told me he used to stay regularly at the Maximilian on business. So – ’ I tailed off, not knowing how to finish.
‘We are of course conducting investigations.’ He smiled patiently. ‘You will understand why I cannot discuss the details with you.’
I examined my hands, feeling foolish. I was glad now that I hadn’t told him about seeing Jonas at the Ice Theatre. Liz was right, it wasn’t proof of anything. And I was coming to the conclusion I might have been wrong, and the figure watching me, whoever he was, had had no malicious intentions.
‘Who were these people who were murdered in Stockholm?’ I said.
‘We looked for a link, but there was little to go on. The only thing they had in common is that they were businessmen or financiers. The hotels catered for businessmen, so it may not be significant. We established that two of them knew each other but, again, that is unsurprising given the nature of their business.’ The furrows on his forehead deepened. ‘When Wilson Bibby was murdered, we thought the killer had struck again. Bibby’s programme with schools has been widely pu
blicised. There cannot be many people who do not know he was in Sweden last week.’
‘Why would anyone want to kill a bunch of businessmen? And in such terrible ways?’
‘We asked ourselves the same question,’ he said dryly.
‘And what about Harry? He wasn’t a businessman.’
‘Which is why I am less inclined to believe that the hotel killer has come to the Icehotel.’
‘But he is still killing again,’ I said softly. ‘In Stockholm.’
‘The American whose neck was broken?’ He nodded. ‘We think so.’
He turned his body round and looked directly at me. ‘Miss Stewart, there is something you need to understand.’ His voice was hard. ‘Whether the Stockholm hotel killer has come to the Icehotel is not the point. There is a murderer on the loose here. I will be issuing guidelines to Mr Tullis today. You should all be careful about what you say, and to whom you say it. And you, Miss Stewart, should not be alone at any time. Will you promise me that?’
‘You think the killer is coming after me,’ I said, my voice wavering.
‘Or he may have another victim in mind and see your – how shall I put it? – amateur investigations as an impediment.’
‘But this has nothing to do with me. I never met Wilson before this week. How could he be after me?’ I caught my breath. ‘I refuse to believe this.’
He gripped my shoulders. ‘Believe it, or do not believe it, but promise me you will be careful.’ His face was so close I could see the purple flecks in his irises.
‘Very well,’ I said faintly. ‘I promise.’
He released me, and got to his feet. He dropped coins onto the counter, nodding to the barman who’d been watching with curiosity. Then, without a backward glance, he left the room.
I curled into the sofa, and clutched at the cushions, burying my face in their softness.
Chapter 23
I threw the cushions aside and set up the chess board, reconstructing one of my favourite games, the 1918 match between Capablanca and Frank Marshall. I drank my sweet coffee, moving the pieces automatically.
Hallengren’s words played in my mind like a broken record: The killer would have been close by.
A sound made me look up.
He was in the doorway, watching me. I took in every detail: the huge bulk, the black hooded snowsuit. And the ice-axe in his hand. An ice-axe, which he was holding firmly by the shaft.
He took a step towards me. I scanned the room, searching helplessly for the barman. Snatches of laughter drifted in from the kitchen. He came closer. I tried to lever myself up, thinking I might make a run for it, but my limbs refused to move. He reached the table. Another second, and the axe would smash through my skull. In that moment, the spectre of Harry’s mutilated body rose before me, the wounds on display like dishes at his Sunday buffets, and I nearly passed out with fear.
‘Maggie?’ The Irish accent was unmistakable. In a single flowing movement, he raised his hand and pulled off the mask. ‘You should see yourself, you’ve gone a whiter shade of pale.’
The barman breezed in and busied himself washing glasses.
Liz arrived. ‘So this is where you are, Mags,’ she said, smiling. ‘You’ve no idea how relieved I am. Leo told us at breakfast what had happened to you. It must have been absolutely dreadful.’ She reached across and squeezed my fingers. ‘Golly, your hands are like ice.’
I let her blow on my fingers, pressing myself into the sofa, unable to take my eyes off Mike.
‘We wanted to come straightaway,’ she was saying, ‘but Hallengren had given strict instructions not to let you be disturbed. I saw the policeman outside your room.’ She glanced at the table, and a frown of annoyance crossed her face. ‘And here you are, playing chess as though nothing’s happened.’
Mike stepped smartly out of his suit. ‘For the love o’ God, Maggie, what were you doing out there? We thought you’d gone to bed.’
I nearly told them about Denny, the figure with the ice-axe, the whole bloody lot. But something stopped me.
They were waiting for an answer.
‘I went to watch the aurora.’ I tried to sound convincing. ‘I got too close to the edge and stepped into the water. Stupid of me. Fortunately, there were people there.’
They exchanged glances but didn’t press me, and I wondered what else they’d heard.
‘Have you seen Hallengren?’ said Liz.
‘Just now.’
‘And what did he say about going for little walks on the ice at night?’ she said sternly.
I chewed my thumb. ‘He let me have it. Both barrels.’
‘You and your auroras, Mags. You were damned lucky, you know. If you’d been alone – ’
I glanced at Mike. He was twirling the ski mask on the end of his finger.
We were in the restaurant, finishing lunch.
‘Would you girls like to do something this afternoon?’ said Mike. ‘The excursions have been cancelled again.’
Before I could reply, Leo Tullis arrived with Jane.
‘How are you doing, Maggie?’ he said anxiously.
I smiled, wanting to reassure him. ‘Nothing a good night’s sleep couldn’t cure.’
There was a slight flush on Jane’s cheeks. ‘I’ve been feeling bad all morning. If I hadn’t rung you and told you about the aurora, you’d never have fallen into the water.’
‘For heaven’s sake,’ I said playfully, ‘it’s not your fault. I’m a big girl, now. I make my own decisions.’ I felt like adding: And my own mistakes.
She seemed grateful for my answer. ‘So, are you going to the play?’
‘Macbeth?’
Her expression changed to one of shock. ‘The Scottish play, Maggie. You should never call it by its name.’
‘I rather think I’ve had all the bad luck I’m going to get, Jane,’ I said, forcing a laugh.
She looked rattled, and unconvinced by my answer. I could see she wanted to leave. She glanced questioningly at Leo, who nodded.
They were moving away when Leo said, ‘I meant to ask, have any of you seen Denny Hinckley?’
‘The reporter?’ said Mike, not looking up.
‘I lent him my brochure on the Icehotel, and I’d like it back.’
‘You’re out of luck,’ I said. ‘I understand he’s left.’
‘What do you mean?’ Leo said sharply.
‘He’s gone AWOL. And he didn’t settle his bill.’
Liz glared at Leo. ‘How is it that he’s got his passport back, and we’re still here? That’s not very fair.’
‘I don’t know anything about his passport,’ he said, tugging at his hair. ‘Maybe the press didn’t have to surrender theirs.’
But the police hadn’t let the press leave, as they were around when Harry was murdered. They were marooned like the rest of us.
Liz’s glare had intensified. ‘Look, Leo, Denny can’t possibly have left the hotel without his passport, so he must have had it returned. Either that or he’s still here somewhere.’
‘He had more than one,’ Jane said timidly.
We stared at her.
‘From the way he said it, I think at least one of them was a forgery.’ She smiled nervously, as though this were somehow her fault. ‘He bragged about being able to get out of trouble faster than he got into it.’
Mike grinned. ‘The sly dog. But in this case I don’t think it’s trouble that’s made him do a runner. He’s legged it to avoid paying his bar bill. I saw how much he put away.’ He shook his head. ‘That man’s got Irish blood in him somewhere.’
‘About our passports, Leo,’ Liz said wearily, ‘is there really nothing you can do to persuade the Inspector to let us go home? He can’t keep us here much longer. Murder investigations can go on for months, can’t they? What about all that awful paperwork he’ll have to keep filling out if we stay?’
‘Everyone keeps asking me that. When I next see the Inspector, I’ll put the question to him.’
‘Do you know
how far they’ve got with catching Harry’s killer?’ said Mike.
‘We may learn something at the next press release.’
‘Which will be when?’ said Liz, running a hand over her hair.
‘Can’t tell you, I’m afraid.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Sorry, but I’ve got to run.’
After they’d gone, Mike said, ‘So, ladies? This afternoon?’
‘I need to go into Kiruna, to the coroner’s office,’ Liz said. ‘There are some final things that need doing.’ It was Liz who’d been dealing with the paperwork over Harry’s body.
‘But they must be closed on a Sunday,’ Mike said.
‘They told me they’d open the office. I rather think they want to get it over with as quickly as I do. They gave me a time, half past four. I thought of going now and doing a spot of shopping. What about you, Mags? How are you feeling?’
They were watching me.
‘Look, you don’t need to keep tiptoeing around me,’ I said. ‘We should make an effort. It’s what Harry would have wanted. So tonight we’re going to see the play. The Scottish play.’
There was an awkward pause. ‘And Kiruna, Mags? Is that something you’d like to do?’
I was tired, and about to decline, when I remembered Hallengren’s warning about not being alone. What safer place than in the centre of town, surrounded by people?
‘Let’s go,’ I said firmly. ‘Now.’
She looked surprised at this show of assertiveness. ‘Fine, then, we can take the courtesy bus. Are you coming, Mike?’
He was peeling an orange. ‘I’ll give it a miss, I think.’ A slow smile spread across his face. ‘I know what it’s like when girls go shopping.’
‘What are you going to do instead?’ I asked lightly
He was arranging the orange segments into a star pattern. ‘I haven’t decided. I went ice-climbing this morning. I may try snow-shoeing, then I can cross it off my list of winter sports.’
‘Let’s go then, Mags,’ Liz said sulkily. She drained her espresso. ‘Oh, and we’ll need snowsuits.’
At the mention of snowsuits, I glanced at the black suit draped across Mike’s chair. He saw me looking and stared back silently, eating the orange segments, one by one.
