by Inger Wolf
"The snow makes it look worse than it is," she said, with what possibly was meant to be a smile. "Is he dead?"
"Yes. It's all over."
She coughed again. "We have to get inside before we choke out here."
He picked her up and carried her to the cabin and up the steps to the porch. Carefully he knocked. "Marie, you can open the door now," he said in Danish.
At first, there was no answer, so he repeated what he'd said. Then he heard a weak voice.
"Is the man dead?"
"Yes, he's dead, Marie."
The door opened slowly, revealing a girl with frightened eyes and a face too solemn and knowing for an eleven-year-old. She looked at Angie, and tears came to her eyes. "Is she going to die?"
"No, she won't die. We won't let her."
"What are you saying?" Angie said.
Marie answered her in English. "He says you're not allowed to die."
Chapter Sixty-Six
A WEEK WENT by before Redoubt took its first break. According to the newly-appointed director of the Anchorage Volcano Observatory, it was, in all likelihood, only a matter of time before the volcano resumed its fireworks. But the airspace was now open.
Trokic's flesh wound had been treated, and Angie had been kept in Providence Hospital for three days, to make sure the wound just above her right breast didn't get infected. She could easily have been killed, he realized. Marie was under psychiatric observation, but she had been allowed to sleep in a bed beside Angie. She cried when they began talking about moving her out. Because Angie wanted her there, and because the police chief had called and said they should do what's best for the poor girl, none of the hospital's doctors or nurses dared protest. Though when Marie wanted her dog in the room, they put their foot down.
When Trokic came in for the sixth time in three days, Marie was sitting on the foot end of Angie's bed, reading Harry Potter aloud from an iPad someone had loaned her. She looked up at Trokic with a serious expression.
"Angie never read Harry Potter; she hasn't even seen the movies. I feel sorry for her. Mom read…"
Marie looked down at the bed and began crying again. Angie took her hand and pulled the girl to her breast. She kept crying as Angie clenched her teeth in pain. But at last Marie sat back up.
"I want to stay with Angie," she said. She sounded determined. "I want to live with her."
"But, Marie," Trokic said quietly. He thought about the cold trailer. "Your grandparents in Denmark want you to come back to them. We'll fly back together. And you can bring Zenna along; you two can live with your grandma and grandpa. You'll have your own room, close to the forest."
"But I don't want that. I want to stay with Angie." She raised her voice. "I don't want to go to Denmark. I want to stay here."
"Sweetheart," Angie said, hugging her. "You're more than welcome to stay with me, but I'm not the one who gets to decide."
"Then who does?"
"I don't know. Your grandparents. The authorities."
Marie buried her head in Angie's comforter and cried again. Angie shook her head and slid her fingers through the girl's blonde hair. She looked at Trokic, her sad eyes moist. "Dammit, Daniel. What am I going to do? With you and her? With everything?"
He couldn't answer. He had a big hollowed-out space in his gut that was pure pain. He looked away. Out the window. Toward the university. Ten days had gone by, and his world looked completely different now. They had hunted down one of the worst killers he'd ever been up against, people had died, and an innocent child's life had been crushed. And he had met her. Angie. Denmark seemed so far away, farther than any place in the world, but it was also his home.
"Come with me," he begged. "I have room for you, and Marie's grandparents are only about a mile away. She could visit us."
Angie shook her head. "That's the only thing I can't do. I can't leave Alaska. Ravens can't fly that far."
Chapter Sixty-Seven
TROKIC DISCOVERED he was famous when he returned to Århus. The papers had caught wind of the case, and the headlines kept coming, each one more overblown than the last. "Danish Officer Outmans American Serial Killer," "Volcano Researcher's Death in the USA Solved by Danish Police." A TV2 crew had been sent to Anchorage to film a report on the gruesome murder of a Danish family in the Wild West. They researched the case down to the tiniest detail and spoke with everyone involved. As a result, Trokic was suddenly a genuine hero. And he couldn't have cared less when he walked into the station and was swamped by congratulations on his way to Karsten Andersen's office.
"Look who's here," Andersen said, his expression mirroring the many newspaper headlines. "So, you just landed?"
Trokic nodded. His biological clock was again out of whack. "Seven o'clock this morning. I stopped by my place and heard all the orders to come in here on my answering service. I'm tired and exhausted and I want to go home and sleep."
The captain smiled. "You'll get to. I never thought I'd ever say this, but people here have missed you. They've been plaguing me, coming in all the time wanting to know if there's any news. I'm more than satisfied with your efforts. The East Jutland Police are practically heroes now all over the country. Tell me something I haven't heard in the news. It's not because you kept me up to date over there."
Trokic sighed and then told his story. It took nearly two hours. Andersen sat quietly and lapped it up. Afterward, they both sat in silence, and Trokic looked out the window; he'd been sitting in exactly the same spot a few weeks ago, a different person than he was now. The trees outside had lost most of their leaves. Had he also lost a lot? Or had he, in fact, gained something?
"And what about Marie?" Andersen said. He looked concerned.
"Her grandparents picked her up at the airport."
Trokic still felt the small hand clinging to his through four airports and all the way across the Atlantic. When she hadn't been curled up against him. Zenna had flown in the cargo hold underneath them. He had never been so nervous about luggage not showing up, and he had sighed in relief when a happy, untraumatized dog appeared at Billund airport.
"I talked to them yesterday," Andersen said. "I drove out to see them, and I'll do it again when things have settled. She'll have a good life here."
Trokic chewed on the inside of his cheek. He wasn't so sure.
"Life can hurt sometimes, and that's okay,” Andersen said. “I remember Marie as a stubborn, strong little girl. She'll get through this, and she's with her grandparents, who love her more than anything in the world.”
“You're right. But she doesn't want to be here; she wants to go back to Angie, my partner over there. And Alaska.”
"She can, when she gets older. Until then, she can go there on vacation. Her grandparents are good people, and they're comfortable financially. They'll let her go if she bugs them enough about it."
"I'm sure she will." Trokic thought back to Angie at the Anchorage airport, how gloomy and miserable she'd looked. That image was going to haunt him for a long time.
"What now?" Andersen said. "What in hell am I going to do with you? National hero. I should promote you, and I would if I didn't know you'd rather be demoted. I'd even say you look like a guy who wouldn't mind getting fired right now."
"Don't worry. What else would I do with myself?"
The captain peered at him for several moments as he twiddled his thumbs, first one way and then the other. A habit. "You know what? This isn't unusual. Danes being killed or disappearing abroad. Maybe I can send you out again sometime."
"I don't know," said Trokic. "I don't know anything right now."
Andersen was in seventh heaven about the sudden heroic status of the Århus police. "I can even imagine a small unit traveling around on this type of case."
Trokic sighed. "I'd really like to go home and get some sleep." He had no desire whatsoever to think about anything connected with flying.
"Take a week's vacation."
"No, thanks." The idea of a vacation filled him with dread.
Being home alone with his thoughts, his pain, his emptiness.
Andersen's expression fell. "It's your call. But take it easy, okay?"
IT WAS late afternoon by the time he left the station. The sky was blue, the day unseasonably warm. But it was as if the bustling city around him didn't exist. The growl of the yellow diesel buses, people rushing by, the smell from the harbor.
He was thinking about Redoubt far away, slumbering uneasily while the Alaskans were still sweeping up ashes. And the woman he had left, a woman crushed, miserable. He stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out a chain. The small black raven dangled in front of him. He couldn't wear it, people would ask him questions about where it came from. Questions that would remind him of her.
For a moment, he stood in thought, then he headed for the street with the nearest tattoo shop. This felt like the right time for his first tattoo. And when the raven was finally on his arm, he could give the necklace to a little girl he knew, one who would be thrilled to have it.
THE END
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Afterword
Dear Reader,
Thank you for purchasing Under a Black Sky. I hope you enjoyed it.
I decided to write a mystery which took place in Alaska because I was fascinated by the vastness, climate and wildlife of this beautiful state. I was also partly inspired by the real story about serial killer Robert Hansen who was sentenced to life in 1984 for killing at least 17 women.
During my research, I visited Anchorage and stayed at the Ramada Inn. I had dinners at The Slippery Salmon, and I met with people at the volcano observatory, the police station and the forensic institute. I am very grateful to these people who helped me with all my questions. In particular, it was a fantastic experience to stand on the roof of the volcano observatory and see Mount Redoubt in the distance.
I can also recommend the movie Frozen Ground about Robert Hansen. You can find more information here:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Robert_Hansen
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt2005374/
Thank you for all your support. Don’t forget to leave a review; it means the world to me.
Take care,
Inger
About the Author
Inspired by the Darkness
Inger Wolf is an International Bestselling Danish mystery and thriller writer.
Her first mystery novel, Dark Summer, for which she was awarded the Danish Crime Academy's debut prize, was published in 2006. Since then, her bestselling books have been translated into several languages.
She loves to travel and get inspiration to her books from all over the world, but lives in the outskirts of the town of Aarhus, the second largest city in Denmark, close to the forest and the sea. In this beautiful place, she got a degree in English and worked as a translator for many years.
Today, Inger Wolf works as a full-time author. The household also includes a dog called Harry Hole, named after one of her favorite detectives, and a cat called Mis (Kitty).
Connect with me here:
www.ingerwolf.com/us
[email protected]
Books by the Author
On the Side (Danish)
Dark Summer (Danish, Norwegian, Swedish, German, Dutch, French, Spanish)
Frost and Ashes (Danish, Norwegian, German, Dutch, Spanish)
The Song Bird (Danish, Dutch)
The Wasp Nest (Danish, French)
Evil Water (Danish, French)
Under a Black Sky (Danish, English)
The Perfect Place to Die (Danish)
Burned Souls (Danish)
The Crow Man (Danish)
Table of Contents
Copyright
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Afterword
About the Author
Books by the Author
