John Wiltshire - [More Heat Than the Sun 07]

by Enduring Night [MLR MM] (epub)

  Ben stayed alongside Nikolas, thinking. He was attempting to work out where to start refuting Nikolas’s ludicrous assertions, but somewhere, in recesses of his brain he didn’t use very often, he had a sneaking suspicion that Nikolas might be right. Which was very worrying. Too many people, in Ben’s opinion, fell for the great con trick that was Nikolas Mikkelsen. He was needed to balance this worldview, to be the one person who could and would call Nikolas on all his pretension. What would happen if he began to see truth in such posturing? It was unthinkable.

  The back of the hotel was only fifty feet or so from the cliff face. They had both been shown the layout of the hotel and its various outbuildings during the induction. Ben hadn’t realised Nikolas had been paying attention, but he seemed very sure where the big shed was.

  Nikolas shone his flashlight in the direction of the rising rock, but it was totally ineffectual. He tapped it again, as if that had ever helped a failing torch. When, predictably, the sharp raps didn’t alter the strength of the beam, he muttered something Ben didn’t catch and set off anyway.

  Ben jogged to stay alongside Nikolas. “How was she killed? Did you hear him say?”

  “Bear.”

  Ben frowned as Nikolas came to a halt a few feet in front of him. “She was killed by a bear? But Richard said mur—”

  Nikolas held his hand up in caution. “No. Bear. There.”

  Ben snorted at some vague recollection of a childhood rhyme, but then he got the tone of voice and what Nikolas had actually said and hissed, “What?”

  Once more, Nikolas tapped the torch. The pathetic glow went out altogether.

  They were standing very close together. Ben whispered, “Are you sure?”

  He sensed more than heard Nikolas hesitate before he conceded quietly, “No. A glimpse of something. It was big and moving and white.”

  “Oh. So not that sure then. Move back slowly.”

  “The shed is closer.”

  “The large, white, moving thing is between us and the shed!”

  “Well, no, it was moving. And there is no siren.”

  “Maybe the bear disabled it. He did murder someone after all.”

  Nikolas turned, taking his gaze off the darkness in front of them. “The bear murdered Dr Cooper? That’s your theory?”

  “Mine? You said it did!”

  “I most certainly did not. The ghost murdered her. Do keep up, Benjamin.”

  “What! How do you know that?”

  Nikolas frowned, a tiny crinkling of his forehead hardly visible under his hat. Then he began to stride once more toward the shed.

  Ben slithered and slid to catch him again, and together they fell through the door and pushed it shut behind them. The recent wind appeared to have blown snow into the opening so it was hard to latch closed, but eventually they were secure inside.

  At the same time as the realisation came to Ben it seemed to occur to Nikolas as well—they were now in the pitch dark with their backs to a corpse.

  Nikolas chuckled and Ben slapped him, too ineffectual under the thickness of their coats to make much of an impression. They faced into the room and Nikolas clicked his lighter. It was enough illumination to see Penny Cooper. Almost as importantly, it was enough to see a lantern on a table, too. Nikolas touched the flame to the wick and everything was visible.

  The table was off to one side of this building which housed the Hagglund when it wasn’t in use, a typical man-shed—set up and used for strategic escapes from the rigours of marriage. A tin cup, a newspaper, and some tools sat on the desk.

  The biologist sat at it.

  She was frozen in place.

  For a moment, Ben thought of waxworks he’d seen, a store mannequin, perhaps. Taxidermy. She was whole and perfect and simply sitting there as if waiting for someone to finish a particularly long grace. After that unfortunate impression, another one came close on its heels, equally as unpleasant: hunters frozen in the polar ice.

  Nikolas pursed his lips.

  Ben went around to the back of the chair to see if he could find any evidence of a wound. “Maybe she just froze to death and her brother panicked, thinking she’d been murdered?”

  “Brother? They shared a bedroom. They were married. They had that dullness of domesticity about them. I could tell.”

  “Ever the romantic, Nikolas. They were identical. Brother and sister. But whatever they were, I think she simply…froze.”

  “I think someone wanted it look like that.”

  “There’s no wound. Nothing. No blood.”

  “Hmm.”

  “What?”

  Nikolas went up to the corpse and indicated to something. Crouching, Ben rose from examining the woman’s lower body to see what he was pointing at and swore suddenly. Penelope Cooper’s hand was…reversed. Loosely resting on the table, it had initially appeared as if she’d been holding the cup, warming her hands before drinking, perhaps, but rather than both thumbs being uppermost, palms inward, the left hand was facing the same way as the right, as if it was about to spoon to its mate for warmth.

  “Strip her. Quick, before the others come.”

  “What? No! That’s gross!”

  “Oh, God, not all of her, just her jacket a little.” Nikolas didn’t wait for Ben’s assistance and fumbled with the various zips and fastenings himself. “Look!”

  Ben peered inside the opened jacket and hissed, “Jesus!” The woman’s arm was broken at the elbow and the lower half of her limb had been entirely twisted around. He leant closer for a better look. “There’s hardly any blood or bruising.”

  “It’s possible this was done after she died. I think she was frozen to death—because she’d been stripped and left here.”

  Ben put a hand lightly on the woman’s shoulder for a moment. “Then they dressed her again and…posed her.”

  “Exactly. But they miscalculated how difficult it is to work with a frozen body. It’s hard enough to dress a still-warm corpse.”

  Ben nodded. “They broke her arm forcing it into the sleeve.”

  “Come. On. We must go.”

  “Go? We’ve only just got here. We need to wait—”

  “Ben, there is a very limited cast of players in this little drama who could be the murderer. And guess what? Two of them are men here on assumed names.” He hung his head for a moment, apparently at something he could see in Ben’s expression and then added fondly, “Us. If I were a murderer, I might think to use that coincidence? Put out the light.”

  Ben gave the frozen tableau a final glance and did as he was asked. Just before he began to wrestle with the door once more, Nikolas laid a glove on his arm, holding him back by the gentlest of touches. “Ben…” He paused and, uncharacteristically, smiled hesitantly, a faint, slightly nervous twitch of cold lips. “I don’t tell you this very often…in fact I don’t think I’ve ever told you this…”

  “You’re gay? Oh, bloody hell! I had my suspicions the other night, but I didn’t say anything because I was being pressed too hard into the pillow.”

  Nikolas closed his eyes briefly as if for strength. “I meant that I don’t tell you…” His gaze fixed once more on Ben, and he said with a genuine smile, “It is you I have in my head—the one who keeps it all at bay. You are my repertoire of amusement…the only person in the world I would want to be stuck with in an isolated cabin, no food, no fuel, dead bodies stacking up—and possibly a bear on the loose. The jury is still out on the bear.”

  Ben laughed in response to the glint in Nikolas’s eyes and kissed him.

  Nikolas held him close for a moment, their vapour trails of breath entwining. “You are everything I wanted him to be, but he never was. You are my…completeness.”

  Ben nodded against Nikolas’s chilled cheek, their stubble rasping faintly. “I know.” Twins. Souls joined in some previous life, perhaps, and now together physically in this one. Nikolas’s words only cemented something Ben had tentatively been thinking—how well they made it all work, despite their differe
nces. It was friendship—the fun they had together, the fun they made together out of anything, any situation.

  He glanced over Nikolas’s shoulder at Penelope Cooper. She seemed to be staring right at him. Ice and peat. Such good preservatives. He shivered. Nikolas eased them apart. “Back to the fire for us, just as they are braving the trip over the ice to investigate.”

  Ben made a small gesture of assent. It wasn’t the cold that had sent the shudder through him. He had recalled his moment of uncertainty on the plane—the end of all things. He suddenly had the terrible thought that life was incredibly fleeting—even for those lucky enough to live out their full span of years.

  Neither he nor Nikolas was immortal.

  The realisation came to Ben that whatever happened in this life, he had to find a way for them to be together in the next one, too.

  For Ben, every single manoeuvre now included death as well.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  They saw a group coming from the hotel as they eased out of the shed. Semi-blinded by various torches, candles, and lanterns as the other guests were, both Ben and Nikolas trusted their departure would be hidden in deep shadow and virtually invisible.

  They skirted around the back of the smaller shed where Ben had first seen his apparition and then made their way to the front of the hotel. A moment before they went through the doors, Ben stopped, squinting toward the beach and the slight rise from which they’d descended on the first day. “A light. Look.”

  Nikolas’s gaze followed the direction Ben was indicating. “Perhaps it’s Nils returning.”

  “Could be. It’s not moving though.”

  They watched for a while and the light did appear to be stationary.

  Ben began to walk. He knew Nikolas would curse and fuss, but he’d come too. It’s just the way they were.

  §§§

  It was Nils and the Hagglund.

  As Ben came over the small ice ridge he could see the huge vehicle. The illumination that had attracted his notice came from the headlights, which were facing away from the hotel. The whole vehicle was pointing toward the town. It had gotten this far before it had stalled for some reason.

  It was so cold that sound was distorted, so although Ben thought he could hear something odd, he dismissed it and rounded the end of the rear cabin to approach the driver’s side to discover why Nils had stopped.

  Nils was on the ground.

  Parts of him, anyway.

  Some of him was still dangling out of the driver’s open door.

  Ben didn’t have time to assess or do anything more than turn to Nikolas and hiss, “Climb!”

  Nikolas had said that to him once at the base of a jungle-clad cliff, and Ben had obeyed just as rapidly as Nikolas did now. They scrambled up onto the roof of the Hagglund just as the vast white animal, which had been nosing the remains of the hotel owner, lifted its head and regarded them through narrow, thoughtful eyes.

  “So, tell me again how you shot a bear?”

  Nikolas huffed, backing to the far side of the roof. “That story involved an actual gun. We need to swing down and get inside.”

  With Nikolas keeping a wary eye on the unfortunate tableau below, Ben slid off the roof on the other side and tried the passenger door.

  Locked.

  He scooted nimbly back up beside Nikolas and eyed the open driver’s door, calculating and assessing.

  “We need to distract it, lure it away.”

  Nikolas didn’t reply, he was staring at an object on the roof. He held it up for Ben to see—a lump of something greasy, fatty, and grey. Ben wrinkled his nose. “What the fuck? Is that…Nils?”

  Nikolas shook his head and brought it closer for Ben to smell. “Not unless parts of him have been dying for a week or two. It’s rancid. Seal meat maybe?” He peered thoughtfully at the bear and clicked his tongue, exactly as he did for Radulf when he wanted to feed him a sausage.

  Ben swore softly under his breath.

  The animal lifted its head from its food at the sound, and regarded Nikolas. He clicked his tongue again, whistled and then chucked the small offering to the rear of the vehicle.

  The bear totally ignored it and went back to its much fresher, warmer meal.

  “Shit.”

  “Maybe we should climb down anyway. Maybe we won’t be as tempting as Nils either.”

  “You first.”

  Nikolas winced theatrically. “My shoulder might give out. You know how weak it is.”

  “It seems to support you really well at certain times.”

  “Ben Rider-Mikkelsen, are you thinking about sex again? How inappropriate.”

  “I’m thinking it’s minus thirty and we need to get inside.”

  Nikolas nodded. “Okay. I’ll distract it. You climb in. You open up the other door; I climb in. How does that sound?”

  “Really good except for the you’ll distract it bit. How are you planning—What are you doing?”

  Nikolas was removing his jacket. He seemed very…vulnerable dressed only in his jeans and a sweater. Shivering now, Nikolas lay flat on the roof and dangled the garment toward the bear. The bear ignored the movement until one flick landed the coat on its head. Then the vast, blunt features rose, and piggy eyes regarded him with some interest.

  Nikolas twitched the jacket again.

  The bear came closer, and, like a cat stretching to investigate an open drawer, it rose on its hind legs and placed its front paws on the rim of the roof. It wasn’t strong enough to pull itself up. It didn’t even seem bothered to try. Like a toddler pleased to be standing at last, it simply stood there, scratching its vast bulk against the metal.

  Ben started a stealthy shifting toward the front end.

  The black eyes began to swivel to watch.

  Nikolas clenched his free hand and swung his fist, punching the bear in the face.

  The bear swiped, blinking in surprise at the swift attack. It was incredibly fast, and Nikolas snatched his hand away, swearing. The huge animal then shuffled down the side of the vehicle, almost looking as if it was playing rather than taking part in a serious assault. Given its blood-soaked muzzle, there was little doubt in Ben’s mind why the bear was taking things easy. He fumbled in his pocket, took a once-in-a-lifetime photo opportunity, then watched for his moment, waiting until the paw was fishing once more for the jacket. When the moment was just right, he jumped down and dived in through the driver’s door.

  He had to push the rest of Nils out into the snow before he could seal the cabin.

  Within a moment, the passenger door was open, and Nikolas was in with him. Minus his jacket. The bear appeared with that stuck on a claw a few moments later.

  It was quiet again, only the sound of panting until Nikolas said, squeezing his hand in under his sweater, “Let’s go.”

  Ben nodded, turned the key of the Hagglund…and heard nothing.

  The lights, running on the battery and draining it, gave a feeble last flutter and went out. Weak red emergency lamps came on, illuminating their skin in demonic hues.

  “Fu-u-ck.”

  Ben didn’t respond to Nikolas’s shivered comment. He opened his own jacket and pulled him close, wrapping it around them both as best he could. The bear would depart eventually; they simply had to wait it out.

  How long did it take to eat one human being?

  He was tempted to ask the expert.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “What are you doing?” Ben couldn’t tell whether Nikolas’s enquiry was one of horror—it’s way too cold in here for sex, which was unlikely, knowing Nikolas—or one of hope. Much more likely. He pulled out the phone he’d been rummaging for and turned it to show Nikolas.

  He’d taken that one moment, snatched it out of time when he should have been thinking, Fuck, Nikolas is battling with a blood-soaked polar bear. Actually, that’s exactly what he had been thinking—life resembling fiction for once. All Nik’s lies, all the ridiculous stories he made up for Miles and Emilia, and, no doubt, one day f
or Molly Rose, and there he was—Nikolas battling a polar bear on the roof of a Hagglund in the endless polar night.

  Nikolas took the phone in his good hand, his other one wrapped in strips from Ben’s torn shirt and tucked under his sweater, and studied the picture for a while. His only comment was a wry, “It looked bigger at the time.”

  Ben chuckled and stowed his phone safely back in his pocket, not before checking hopefully for a signal. Nikolas shifted slightly, winced, and added, “At least we know what’s happening—who the murderer is and why.”

  “Huh?” Ben adjusted to the change in Nikolas’s position although he really didn’t want to move. They’d discovered that if he lay on top of Nikolas in the passenger area behind the driver’s cab, then they could both stay relatively warm. Relatively. He reckoned they wouldn’t last the night, but then neither would Nils. Soon as Nils was gone, they would be too—straight back to the hotel.

  Nikolas repeated, his voice slightly testy, a sure sign if Ben didn’t already know that his hand was hurting, “We know what’s happening—Doctor Cooper.”

  Ben thought about this. He pondered it for a long time but eventually had to do what he knew Nikolas wanted him to do. He had to ask.

  Nikolas was annoying enough to wait until Ben asked again and then he replied with a question of his own. “What would you do if your parents ran a hotel that was failing?”

  Oh, God, it was like being trapped with an adult Miles. “I don’t know, Nikolas, what would I do?”

  “Maybe try some unique marketing? Stir up some additional interest? Remember when we were first in the hanger, when we arrived? Lars was there?”

  Ben thought back. “He was on the roof…fuck, he was…and then the bloody bear attacked! Jesus, you think he put that guck on the roof deliberately?”

  “It must have smelt the rancid seal meat. Nice safe bear attack. How much more exciting could a polar holiday get?”

  “Didn’t Nils say tourism had increased since that boy got killed? But I don’t get why Penny Cooper was murdered. What? Don’t roll your eyes like that!”

  “She was a bear expert, Ben. I think she guessed what he’d done. Maybe she confronted him. Maybe she threatened to tell his parents. Maybe he only meant to scare her into leaving.”