Under a Black Sky (Part of the Daniel Trokics Series)

by Inger Wolf

  He led them down a long hall and up a stairway to the third floor, then they all climbed the ladder to the roof. The view was stunning. Trokic and Angie circled around themselves and stopped with the Chugach Mountains at their backs and several mountaintops facing them. The sun had come out, and it was casting mountain shadows.

  "The nearest volcano is over there, Spurr. There's no mistaking it. It's a bit of a devil. It erupted last in 1980, but…well, if it strikes again, we have a problem because it's so close. But because we're talking about Mount Redoubt, we have to look farther away."

  He led them along the roof and pointed to a spot on the southwest horizon. Trokic could barely make out the triangular mountain.

  "It was Asger's own little favorite. Not that we can afford to concentrate on any particular one. We have a lot to keep track of, not only all of ours here, but those on Hawaii, and then some near the Mariana Trench in the Pacific. Plus, others here and there that we assist our foreign colleagues with."

  They stood admiring the view until Den rousted them out of their reverie. "Let's take a look downstairs."

  They climbed down and walked back through empty hallways to a room that looked like a miniature version of a NASA control room. "This is where everyone hangs out when something is going on. Asger too. Always first man to arrive, as I said. Right now, it's quiet, but when a volcano erupts, there's a lot of activity here."

  He scowled theatrically; Trokic wasn't sure what that meant.

  "Here on the right is all our data from the seismometers we've placed near volcanoes."

  He glanced at Trokic, presuming correctly that he was the one who knew the least about all this. "Earthquakes are a constant here in Alaska," he continued. "Most of them we don't feel, but we can see on the screens if an earthquake is of a more general character or if it's related to the magma underneath a specific volcano. That's important because in this way we know what's going on with them."

  "It looks like there are earthquakes all the time, like you say," Trokic said.

  "Yes. Most of the time our volcanoes are napping, but we're here anyway. If anything happens at night, alarms send information to our cell phones." He smiled wryly. "Not that my wife is happy for what can come in at night, but we have to think about air traffic. And over there—"

  He pointed at a number of screens at the opposite end of the room. "Those are streams from our web cameras installed near the volcanoes. That one is Redoubt, for example. We have several cameras on it, some close, others farther away."

  They both looked at the images. Not much seemed to be happening, but really, what did Trokic know about it?

  "How many employees are there here?" Angie said.

  "Twenty. Not that that's anything special. There are many more keeping an eye just on Etna in Italy. But we want to keep abreast of what's happening, so we can warn the airport in case of any ash in the atmosphere. Which is, in fact, the reason why we exist."

  They stood for a moment, taking in all this information.

  "Was Asger Vad well-liked here?" Trokic asked.

  Den hesitated, looking around the room as if he were checking to see if anyone was close. "Asger was a friendly man. But sometimes he was…too much to listen to. As I said before, sometimes the observation room is crowded, and of course he was always here. But he could be loud, and he would say things obvious to us. We have brains too."

  He clearly wasn't happy talking about the deceased.

  "We want to hear your honest opinions," Angie said. "So please spit out whatever you have to say. We're trying to find out what kind of man he was, how he behaved around people. Someone had a motive to kill him."

  "Let me put it this way," Den said, the corners of his mouth drooping. "He wasn't immensely popular in the scientific community. And then there was Redoubt. He was so focused on it that sometimes nothing else seemed to matter."

  He looked down at the floor. "Some of us had had enough. Especially our technical department. They don't take kindly to anyone interfering with what they do. They're responsible for assembling our seismometer transmitters, things like that."

  Angie shrugged. "There are minor disagreements like that in every workplace. But did he have any real enemies?"

  Den thought for a moment. "I don't know that I would say enemies. But many people here didn't like him."

  "What she means," Trokic said, "is if he had any serious conflicts with anyone? Something that could have led to him being killed?"

  The director looked back and forth between the two of them, then deflected the question again. "We can all have friends and people we don't get along very well with. If we're talking private life, he was a very nice man, but in scientific circles, Asger didn't really get along well with anybody. He was too competitive, and that got old for some of us."

  "Sharp elbows?" Trokic said, thinking about the call from Andersen back in Denmark. Someone who thought Asger Vad was a bit too ambitious.

  Den fidgeted, as if he couldn't decide what to say. "You could say that. And he liked to appear on TV, too. But I can't see why anyone would want to kill him because of that. So, I suppose the answer to your question is, no."

  "And he hasn't really pissed you off?" Trokic said.

  Den's mouth twitched and drooped again. His eyes bulged. Unless Trokic was very wrong, the director of the Volcano Observatory was trying hard not to laugh. No one spoke for a while as he struggled to get himself under control. He looked close to tears. All in all, his reaction seemed very inappropriate.

  "No," he said through clenched teeth.

  Trokic chewed on that for a moment. He glanced at Angie; what was so funny? "You will be retiring before long, we heard. Is that right?"

  He smiled faintly, as if it was okay now for him to do so. "Yes. The time has come."

  "And you know who is replacing you?"

  "Not yet."

  "Was Asger Vad a candidate?"

  "I'm a member of the board who will be naming my successor. We haven't decided yet. As I said, Asger was an expert and was professionally qualified for the position. I was somewhat against his candidacy; I didn't believe his leadership skills were good enough, but sometimes you have to downplay that."

  "Who else is a candidate?" Trokic said.

  "Adam Connolly from here, and two others from other observatories in the United States. But Adam's candidacy is strong." He smiled wryly. "At least now it is."

  It was warm in the room, and Trokic unzipped his coat partway down. So, Adam Connolly could have had a motive to kill Asger. Could he have killed the entire family to camouflage the fact that Asger was the target? If so, Asger must have enraged him.

  "As we understand it," Angie said, "the ashes we gave you from the crime scene come from Redoubt. You're sure about that, right?"

  Den looked very uncomfortable. "We can't definitively rule out other volcanoes that would produce the same chemical composition in their ash. But we're quite certain that it's Redoubt. We have samples of ash from its eruption, and they match what you sent us."

  "So, the sample could theoretically come from the observatory here?" Trokic said.

  The director laughed indulgently. "There was ash over the entire town in 2009. The ash you found could have been gathered up by anyone around here."

  Angie flashed an unamused smile. "We'd like to hear more about Adam Connolly."

  Den narrowed his eyes. He looked skeptical, very skeptical in fact, to Trokic.

  "Adam? Why are you asking about him? Is he a suspect? Because he wants to be the director here?"

  "There's no specific reason for our questions," Angie said. "We simply want to cover every angle. What exactly does he do here?"

  "I thought you'd already spoken with him? He's staying out at the lodge, for the time being, writing an article."

  "We have," Trokic said. "But we want to hear it from you."

  "Adam is a very different type of person," Den said, warming up to the subject. "He teaches part-time at the university, the rest of
the time he's here analyzing various data. What you've just seen, for example. An incredibly dedicated and capable man."

  "And what about his relationship with Asger?" Angie said.

  Again, Den looked uncomfortable talking about this. "I'm not aware of any conflicts between them. They're far apart in age, and I think Adam regarded him as a type of mentor."

  "So, no troubles between them?"

  "Nothing I recall. Maybe a few annoyances, but nothing more than that."

  "Not even because they both wanted to be the next director?" Angie said.

  He shook his head. "No, nothing I recall.”

  "Nothing at all?"

  "No. Adam is a fine man. Incredibly talented. There's no reason to suspect him; he definitely didn't do it."

  BACK IN THE CAR, they sat for a few moments in silence. Trokic stuck the key in and looked at Angie. She snorted.

  "Him and his Iceland sweater! Do you think he wears one every day?"

  Trokic smiled. "I don't know. Is it just me, or was he doing everything he could to make Adam look like a hero?"

  Angie gingerly touched her cheek and gazed out the window. "I thought that too. I would even say that Adam could have several motives. Stealing Asger's work, for one thing, but also this business about wanting to be the new director. Then there's his lousy alibi, and how he mysteriously has those documents with Asger's name on them. Asger's death could be to his advantage in several ways. He could seem like the nicest man you've ever met. All that shines is not gold."

  They drove back to the station, only a quarter mile away.

  "What do we do now?" Trokic said.

  "Bring him in again."

  "You got a DNA sample the first time he was in, didn't you?"

  She nodded. "It didn't match. But I don't give a shit. He has a motive, that's what's important."

  Chapter Thirty-One

  MARIE SAW he was deep in thought. He'd been gone a long time, and she'd been shut in the basement. When she came back up, as usual, he asked if she'd seen any flies down there. "Are you sure? Are you absolutely sure?" he'd said. She hadn't had the slightest opportunity to escape. Being down there terrified her, and she realized she was dependent on him. What if he had a wreck, and no one ever found her? In a few days, she'd die of hunger and thirst.

  He mumbled to himself as he paced around the kitchen area. Cursed about there being no cell phone coverage. Then he pulled his pant legs up and inspected his legs again, as if he were making sure they weren't those of a fly. His weird behavior made her tremble.

  "What am I going to do with you?" He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "What should I do, kiddo?"

  "I want to go home."

  "Shut up," he yelled. "You're not going home."

  "My mom and dad will pay you." She was almost screaming. "They have a lot of money."

  "I don't give a shit about the money."

  Now she was seriously afraid. Her heart pounded like that of a little bird in the clutches of a cat. If he wasn't after money, what did he want? She thought desperately about how she could get out of the cabin. Every time he left, he locked her in the basement, and when he just stepped outside, he locked the door. There was no other way out. And, besides, she had no idea where she was. She'd slept all the way there, and she didn't know how long they had driven. And the pines outside didn't give her any clue. She could be anywhere in the state. She could be on another planet, for that matter.

  He went outside to the pickup. A moment later, he returned with a roll of large, black trash bags. He stared at her strangely while tearing several of them off. Then he looked at them, apparently gauging their size.

  "What are you going to do with them?" she asked nervously.

  "We're just going to do a little picking up around here, kiddo. Just pick up."

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  ANGIE OPENED the door of The Snow Café and held it for her partner. It was one of her favorite spots; she loved its open atmosphere, its slightly messy look with candles and yellow walls, the waitresses with piercings, the extensive menu of good food. Unfortunately, it was only open for breakfast and lunch. And also, unfortunately, it seemed like the favorite spot in town, which sometimes meant a long wait to be seated. Today, it wasn't so crowded. Her thoughts had been jumbled since leaving the Volcano Observatory. She couldn't get Adam Connolly out of her head: what kind of guy was he? Could a monster really be lurking behind his good looks?

  "Let's grab a bite; we have to eat sometime," she said. "And the food's good here."

  "Can I get moose?"

  She shook her head: typical! "No, you can't get moose! What is it with you?"

  "I just thought you could get moose everywhere here. They don't serve it at the diner next to the hotel. In fact, I haven't seen it anywhere."

  "That could be because they don't serve moose anywhere."

  "Why not?"

  "Because no one raises moose."

  "But they could serve it anyway, couldn't they?"

  "People hunt them to fill their own freezers for the winter. They aren't hunted commercially. But if you are so dead set on eating one of the big ugly brutes, I'll fix you up. I can probably trade a few favors with some of the guys at the station."

  "Thanks!" He smiled as if she just offered him a gold nugget.

  It took a while for them to get a table. Angie eyed the Danish cop across from her. He pulled his coat off, then his light blue fleece jacket, revealing his baggy green shirt. He skimmed through the menu, and after a few moments, he ordered a ham sandwich and an espresso.

  She tried not to stare at him too much. Most of the time, he looked serious, and often his words were so cynical that it nearly took her breath away. A few times, she'd had to ask him if he really meant what he said. But he did.

  Then, once in a while, very seldom, he came up with a crooked little smile that put a twinkle in his dark blue eyes and made her forget what she was about to say. Apparently, it was possible to be totally cynical yet, at the same time, empathetic.

  She had the feeling he was used to doing things his own way, making most decisions himself, and that he was a bit shaky in these unfamiliar circumstances. It was obvious that he wanted to lead the investigation, but he was forced to leave the important decisions to her.

  And sometimes, he looked at her as if she was an odd bird. Some sort of creature he didn't have in his own country. Ian and several of the other officers didn't look at her that way, not at all. Maybe she didn't look like the women back in Denmark. She couldn't decide whether that was good or bad.

  She couldn't concentrate on the menu, so she just ordered what he did.

  Their food came. "Let's talk about something else for a change," she said, after gathering a bit of courage. "You, for instance. You don't talk a lot about yourself. Where does that come from?"

  He lifted an eyebrow. "So, do you usually pry into people's pasts? No manners?"

  She smiled weakly, then she sipped her coffee and burned her tongue. She wasn't going to be intimidated, even though he looked like a mad buffalo for a moment. "Yeah, you could say that. It's what we do. Isn't that right, Daniel?"

  "There's not much to tell," he said, looking out the window.

  "Your last name, where does it come from? It doesn't sound Danish."

  "My father was Croatian, my mother Danish."

  "Okay, a half-breed like me. Interesting."

  She munched on her sandwich, which tasted fantastic, though it hurt to chew because of the hole where her crushed tooth had been. And because of her wounded cheek. "But did you grow up in Denmark with your family?"

  He looked at her, obviously not thrilled about wading through his family history, though he seemed resigned to do so. "Only my mother and me."

  "And what does she do?"

  "She was a nurse. She died several years ago from cancer."

  "I'm sorry to hear that. Do you ever see your father?"

  "No. He and my half-brother died during the Balkan war. Which wa
s quite a while ago now, too."

  She laid her silverware down. "So, no parents?"

  He shrugged, ran his fingers through his messy black hair, and wiped a crumb off his lips. "I don't think about it. It was all such a long time ago, it has nothing to do with my life now. Besides, I grew up with my mother; I didn't know my Croatian family until later on."

  "So, you weren't in the war?"

  He shook his head. "Not directly. I'm a Danish citizen. But I was down there during the war, working as a volunteer."

  "What did you do?"

  "You're good at making guys run off at the mouth, aren't you?"

  "Well, we're eating, your mouth is busy anyway, we might as well talk."

  He flashed a smile. "Okay. It was a resettlement project in the capital, Zagreb."

  "I saw something about the war on TV back then. On CNN. I admit I didn't follow along so well, it was so far away. But it seemed like a horrible war; it must've been terrible to experience it."

  He looked as though she'd stuck a fork in him; there was something buried inside him and she decided not to go any deeper. It was one thing to lift up a corner of a rug, but digging up the whole floor was something else entirely.

  Suddenly, he said, "I shot a young boy down there." He looked over at the table next to them; an elderly lady was wolfing down a big salad. His face was pale now, and for a moment, Angie saw a different person. A brief glimpse of a ruined man.

  They sat for a moment, then she patted his arm, even though it felt awkward. "We all have something on our conscience."

  He stared at her. "You're taking it pretty lightly. Maybe you've shot a bunch of people?"

  "No, I've never shot anyone. But I've come close."

  She sensed that he'd just told her something he normally didn't speak about. That something was plaguing him. Maybe it was easier to tell a stranger from across the ocean. Or was it her? "I'm sure your intentions weren't evil. Besides, we're all going to die alone, and you don't want to lay there thinking about it when your time comes. It's best to come to grips with something like that before then."