The Ice Star (Konstabel Fenna Brongaard Book 1)

by Christoffer Petersen

  “I’m fine, really,” she said as Vienna stepped back to give Fenna a look.

  “If you say so. Although, I must admit, you know rather more about me than I do about you.”

  “There's not much to tell,” Fenna said. She stopped talking and closed her eyes as Vienna pressed the tip of the lipstick to her lips.

  “No? The Captain came by while you were showering,” Vienna said. Fenna flicked her eyes open. “He said it was highly unusual for a woman to be sledging on the ice, even more so that she should be alone. In fact,” Vienna paused to roll the lipstick along Fenna's bottom lip, teasing at the vermilion borders. “He said that the only white women to sledge on the East Coast of Greenland were tourists or,” she smiled as she smoothed an errant smudge of lipstick from Fenna's skin, “soldiers.”

  Fenna could feel the weight of the lipstick tugging at her lips. She stood, lips parted, her face barely two hand lengths away from Vienna's, close enough to catch the diamond scrutiny of her eyes and the crow's feet concealed beneath a dusting of powder.

  “Do you trust me, Fenna?”

  “No,” she breathed.

  “Good,” Vienna said with an enigmatic nod. “Then we will be the perfect partners this evening.”

  “Why?”

  Vienna closed the blush with a snap and stepped back to perch on the arm of the sofa. She slipped the make-up into her purse and tossed it onto the cushions.

  “If Alejandro has taught me anything,” she said and plucked at the edge of one of the ribs of her dress, “it is that partners must never trust one another. That way neither partner can be disappointed or surprised.”

  “I am a soldier,” Fenna said.

  “I know.”

  “A sailor, actually, with the Danish Navy.”

  “With the sledge patrol?”

  “Yes.”

  “The Captain said as much,” Vienna said and rested her hands in her lap. “Do you intend to steal from me?”

  “No.”

  “Use me?”

  Fenna paused for a beat. “If I can.”

  Vienna nodded. “An honest answer.” She tugged at a hair tickling her eyebrow, pulled it from her head and twitched it out of her fingers onto the carpet. “Do you know Richard Humble?”

  “I know of him, yes.”

  “And you’ve heard of The Ice Star?”

  “Yes.”

  “But not of my husband?”

  “I have no interest in your husband.”

  “That makes two of us,” Vienna said. She chuckled as she stood up. She glanced at Fenna's hands. “I’m afraid no amount of cream or varnish will help those nails of yours. But then, in tonight's company, it might be appropriate to show a little of your wild side. Just to keep the bastards in check.”

  Fenna nodded towards the bathroom. “I'll get my shoes.”

  “Yes,” Vienna said. She caught Fenna's wrist as she passed. “I won't pretend to know your plan, I’m not even sure you have one, but I will help you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because if you came aboard this ship knowing the name Richard Humble, then you, my dear, are in a lot more trouble than I will ever be.”

  “Thank you,” Fenna said, and nodded. She tugged her wrist free of Vienna's grip and pointed at the bathroom door. “My shoes.”

  “Of course,” she said and let go.

  When she walked out of the bathroom, Vienna gave her a keycard and a raisin coloured shawl. Vienna, she noticed, had an identical one wrapped around her shoulders.

  “I bought two by mistake,” she said and shrugged.

  Fenna let Vienna wrap the shawl around her. She ran her hands over her hips, biting her lip at the lack of a weapon. I have never felt so naked, she thought, not even when Mikael pulled me out of the ice. She shivered at the memory as Vienna opened the door.

  “Ready?”

  “Yes,” Fenna said and tucked the keycard inside the glove on her left arm. She stepped into the passageway and ignored the scrape of shoes on her heels. Vienna held out her arm and they walked to the elevator. Fenna smiled at the ship's guests, singles and couples, as they passed them in the passageway and squeezed beside them in the elevator. Vienna chatted and exchanged pleasantries as Fenna studied the ship's schematic hanging at numerous positions on their route to the restaurant. She let Vienna guide her through the lobby, the notes of the piano altering key as they passed, and then they were past the jewellery boutique and delicatessen. The glass doors of the bar were open and the restaurant, one of two onboard, was only a few metres away when Vienna stopped.

  “Fenna?”

  “Yes?”

  “Do you see them?”

  Fenna looked beyond the entrance to the restaurant and searched the tables for anyone that might resemble Humble and his partner.

  “No,” she said.

  “There are three men and two women at the table furthest from the bar.”

  Fenna found the bar and looked to the right of it, towards the windows, and there, sitting beside two men and their wives, was Burwardsley. She faltered on her heels as he caught her eyes and glared at her.

  “Bathroom,” Fenna said and tugged at Vienna's arm.

  “Here,” she said and led Fenna out of the passageway and into the ladies restroom. Fenna stumbled to the sink and retched.

  Chapter 23

  Fenna wiped her mouth with a cloth hand towel and checked her face in the mirror. To her amusement, her lipstick wasn't even smudged. Unlike my confidence, she mused. “Fuck,” she said and stared at herself in the mirror. “He doesn't have the right to make me feel this way,” she whispered. But he does.

  “Do you want some water, dear?” Vienna said and filled a glass from the drinking fountain. She handed it to Fenna. “I thought you had never met Richard?”

  “I haven't,” Fenna said and sipped at the water. She set the glass by the sink and stood up straight. “I'm okay. Let's go,” she said and nodded towards the door. She followed Vienna into the passageway and to the front desk of the restaurant. Fenna caught the name Starlight above the door and then her attention was consumed by the table the waiter led them to. He stopped as the men at the table stood as they approached. Vienna kissed each man on the cheek. She paused beside Burwardsley.

  “Mike,” she said. “I didn't know you would be joining us.”

  “Neither did I,” he said and winked at Fenna.

  “Mike just got in on the chopper,” Humble said. Fenna studied him as he stepped around Vienna to pull Fenna's chair out from the table. The cut of his tailored suit matched his cologne, delicate but sharp. Fenna caught herself admiring his jawline and the way he wore his black hair, casual but neat. “I don't know any man that can slip into a tux faster than Mike Burwardsley,” he said and gestured for Fenna to sit. “Richard Humble,” he said and took her hand.

  “Fenna,” she said and caught the lump in her throat. She forced a smile upon her lips and made a point of looking at each of the guests seated at the table. Vienna waited for Humble to pull back her chair and Fenna realised he would be sitting next to her.

  “So glad you could join us, Fenna,” he said as he sat down. “When the ship stopped to pick you up we were intrigued, only to discover our luck that Vienna had taken you in.” He glanced at Vienna as he poured Fenna a glass of wine. “How's that dog of yours?”

  “You know perfectly well how he is,” she said and held out her glass. Humble filled it, put down the bottle and picked up his own glass by the stem.

  “To Vienna's dog,” he said and raised his glass.

  “Vienna's dog,” the party chorused and then stilled as they drank. Fenna sipped at her wine and forced herself to look at Burwardsley. She tried to anticipate the rules of the game but was distracted as Humble interrupted her thoughts.

  “Introductions,” he said and placed his glass on the table. “To your left is my lovely wife, Stella.” Humble waited for Stella to smile. “Mike has just been introduced,” he said and gestured at Vienna sitting next to him
. “Vienna you have met. And sitting beside her is Mark Lunk.”

  “Richard's partner,” Lunk said and nodded at Fenna. She caught his gaze as it rested on her chest. The colour in his fat cheeks and his blatant stare suggested to Fenna that he was drunk, or doing his best to become so.

  “Yes, for my sins,” Humble said and flicked his hand to the woman sitting to Mark's right. “Madeleine, Mark’s wife, completes the circle, and,” he added, “no circle would be complete without her.”

  “Thank you, Richard,” Madeleine said and blushed. Fenna imagined it was not the first time she had been the last to be introduced.

  The waiter gave Fenna a moment to think as he returned to take their orders for starters. Humble ordered the same main dish for all of them, something French, she thought as she struggled with the unfamiliar words. Bread was served and Fenna forced herself to eat as the conversation returned to Vienna's dog and then to her guest.

  “Of course,” Stella said, “we’re dying to know all about you.”

  “Me?” said Fenna and swallowed.

  “Oh we know all about her already,” Lunk said and reached for the bottle of wine. He frowned as Humble moved it away from him, emptying the last drops into his own glass. Fenna caught the look Humble shot at his partner as he set the bottle down on the table. Lunk's lips snarled as he turned to Fenna and said, “Jane fucking Bond herself.”

  “Mark,” Humble said with a nod at Burwardsley.

  “No, it's all right,” Lunk said. “I'll explain.” He lifted his palms and made a slowing sign towards Burwardsley. “I was just going to say that our guest is like a spy.”

  “A spy?” said Stella.

  “That's right,” he said. “I mean, who else turns up in the middle of fucking nowhere with a gun, a phone and a radio, eh?” He looked around the table. “Jane Bond,” he said and thrust his arms across the table. Madeleine reached for her glass as he knocked it over, the wine stained the tablecloth. Lunk chuckled and took the napkin from his lap to dab at the wine.

  “I'll do it,” Madeleine said and brushed his hands away. Burwardsley suppressed a smile and took a long sip from his glass. He watched Fenna over the rim.

  “Mark,” said Humble.

  “What?”

  “Why don't you go and get a drink at the bar.”

  “You sending me away, partner?” Lunk said and lifted his finger to stab at the space between them. “You're starting to make a habit of that...”

  “A habit I would dearly like to quit.” Humble nodded at Burwardsley. “I think Mike might like a drink. It's thirsty work out on the ice.” Burwardsley pushed back his chair, but Lunk lifted his hand.

  “No,” he said and wobbled to his feet. “I prefer to drink alone. Either that, or maybe I'll drink with that savage whore in the hold.” He looked up and grinned. “Eh, Richard?”

  Fenna held her breath as Humble smoothed his fingers on the tablecloth. Burwardsley stood and dropped his napkin onto his seat. He ignored Fenna and moved to stand right behind Lunk, his eyes focused on Humble, waiting for a nod.

  “I really don't know why I put up with this,” Humble said. Lunk stopped grinning, his face paled and he jerked his head around to look at Burwardsley.

  “Hey, I'm sorry, Richard. Really,” he said and pressed his knuckles on the tabletop. “I was out of line.” He turned to his wife. “Out of line, again,” he said. Madeleine turned away as Burwardsley placed his huge hands around Lunk's shoulders and guided him away from the table to the bar. Fenna turned in her chair to watch as Burwardsley found an empty stool for Lunk and slipped a tip to the waiter to keep an eye on him. He waited until Lunk ordered a coffee and then returned to the table.

  “Madeleine,” Humble said as Burwardsley picked up his napkin and sat down. “Would you like another glass of wine?” She nodded and Humble raised his hand to attract a waiter. He ordered two bottles of wine and more bread. Fenna looked at Burwardsley only to find his attention was fixed on Lunk as he sipped his coffee at the bar.

  The savage whore in the hold? Dina? she wondered. Fenna turned to glance at Lunk and, forgetting for the moment the voice on the other end of the satphone, she made a decision. She looked up at a brush of toes on her legs. Vienna caught her eye and mouthed the word, sorry. Fenna shrugged and took a sip of wine as Stella made another attempt at conversation.

  “I don't believe you are a spy,” she said. “But do tell. Who are you and how did you come to be on the ice, so far from civilisation?”

  “Civilisation?” Vienna said and laughed. “That is assuming that Greenland is civilised. Personally,” she said and took a sip of wine. “I find that hard to believe.”

  “There is plenty of civilisation in Greenland,” Burwardsley said without taking his eyes off Lunk. “The capital, Nuuk, has a concert hall, museums, cafés,” he turned to look at Vienna. “They even have a court and a bank. Just how civilised do you want them to be? The population of Greenland is about the same size as Hereford, in England. But they are spread out over an island about nine times the size of Britain.” Burwardsley turned to continue his observation of Humble's partner. He flicked his gaze towards Fenna for a moment and she thought she caught the briefest of smiles.

  Conversation halted as the waiters brought the food to the table. Fenna studied Burwardsley as she turned his words over in her mind. She lifted her hands as the waiter placed a plate in front of her. As he arranged her cutlery, Burwardsley pushed back his chair to stand.

  “Bugger,” he said and moved around the waiter for a better view of the bar.

  “Mike?” said Humble.

  “He's gone. I can't see him.”

  “Really?” Humble said and twisted in his seat. “I shouldn't worry, Mike. He's probably gone to the restroom.” Humble thanked the waiter as he turned back to the table. “He'll be back shortly. Sit down and enjoy your meal.”

  Fenna waited until Burwardsley sat down before excusing herself. She felt Burwardsley’s eyes on her back as she walked to the restaurant entrance. She paused to wait for a group to walk through the door and then used them as cover to enter the men's restroom. She slipped around the door and let it close softly behind her. She found Lunk at the sink, washing his hands. He looked up and caught her eye in the mirror.

  “Mrs Bond, I presume,” he said and grinned. “What brings you in here?”

  Fenna walked to the centre of the bathroom, glanced at the stalls to her left, the urinals to the right and then back to Lunk as he turned around and leaned against the counter. She could see the sweat plastering his black hair to his forehead, smell the alcohol on his breath. She blotted out the image of the man and focused on Dina. Find Dina. Get off the ship. Clear my name. Fenna recalled Mikael's surprise at finding Dina in the cabin, a cocktail dress tucked beneath their spare clothes. She glanced down at her own dress and looked up to find Lunk staring at her breasts, his mouth drooping into a sadistic leer.

  “You said something at the table,” she said. “I want to hear you say it again.”

  “Say what again?” Lunk pulled his eyes from Fenna's chest and wiped spittle from his chin. He leered at Fenna and shook his head. “I'm a little drunk. Although,” he said and pushed himself off the counter and took a step towards her. “Not that drunk.”

  Fenna slipped the shawl from her shoulders and wrapped the ends around her fists, pulling the shawl tight like a rope.

  “Ooh, little girl wants to fight,” Lunk said and feinted with a lurch to Fenna's right. Fenna wobbled on her heels and moved to kick them off just as Lunk launched himself at her chest and slammed her to the tiles. The air whumphed out of Fenna's body as she scrabbled for breath beneath Lunk's massive frame. Where Burwardsley was all muscle, Lunk's advantage was in the pounds of fat rolled around his belly, jowls and arms. He crushed Fenna with his weight and fumbled his right hand around her throat.

  “You want to know about the whore, eh? The little savage? Well,” he said and grunted. “Why don't I just show you what I did to her.” Lunk g
ripped Fenna's throat as he pressed one knee after the other onto her thighs. Fenna clawed at Lunk's fingers, but her broken and battered nails left only the slightest impression. Lunk laughed as he grasped a fistful of Fenna's dress in his left hand and tugged it upwards. “Just let it happen like a good little Bond Girl,” he said and tugged again, higher this time.

  Fenna let go of Lunk's hand at her throat and stretched her arms to reach for the door of the closest stall, or the wall between the door and the urinals. Anything. Her left hand swished across the tiles, empty, but her right caught hold of her shoe and she turned it within her hand and slammed the point of the heel into Lunk's head.

  “Fucking bitch,” he said as he reeled under the impact. The drool of spit dripped from his chin as he renewed his grip on Fenna's throat. With her last breath Fenna hit him again, this time the heel entered Lunk's ear and he screamed, rolled onto his side and pulled the shoe out of her grasp. Fenna squirmed to her knees and slammed her lower arm onto the shoe before Lunk could remove it. Blood fantailed out of his ear and she slipped on it as she straddled Lunk's body and gripped the shoe in her hand.

  “Where is she?” Fenna shouted. “Where's Dina?”

  “Fuck,” Lunk said and screamed as she turned the heel in her hand. His hands spasmed around Fenna's as he tried to wrench her hands free of the heel, but the pain kept him pinned helpless to the tiles, now bloody.

  “Where is she?” Fenna lifted the heel slightly and then pressed it home again, squinting through another shriek of pain and a skeletal geyser of blood. Lunk trembled beneath her and Fenna realised his was not the only body that was shaking. She pushed herself off Lunk and trembled to her feet. The blood on her legs clung to the gauze panels of her dress. She turned to the mirror and pressed the bloody fingers of her right hand to her throat, staring at the red shadow of Lunk's grip. The door opened and Fenna looked into the mirror. Burwardsley stared back at her.

  Chapter 24

  Fenna watched Burwardsley in the mirror as he stepped into the restroom and walked across the floor to check on Lunk. He prodded the lawyer with his foot and nodded as he moaned. Not once did he look away from Fenna. She noticed the bulge at his hip and wondered why she hadn't seen it earlier. Burwardsley followed her gaze and opened his jacket just a little, enough to reveal the Browning and to ratchet the tension to the next level. He let his jacket fall, straightened his back and smoothed his hands down the front of his jacket.