by Sten Ostberg
DEAD BELOW ZERO
Sten Ostberg
© Sten Ostberg 2016
Sten Ostberg has asserted his rights under the Copyright, Design and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author of this work.
First published by Endeavour Press Ltd in 2016.
Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
CHAPTER FORTY
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
CHAPTER FIFTY
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
CHAPTER ONE
‘Brynja!’ Karl hammered on the wooden front door with his fist.
The wind had picked up and was blowing the snow hard against the panel. Even with his back to it, Karl had to squint against the dry flakes. They hadn’t had a storm as intense as this in Tromso for some years.
‘Brynja!’ He beat against it again. Something was very wrong. She’d called Karl and Marte just after two in the morning and wrenched them from sleep. She was hysterical and Marte hadn’t been able to get any sense out of her and had said they were on their way. The luxurious home she shared with her husband, Kjell, and teenage son, Vigar, was on the outskirts of Tromso and only 15 minutes away.
Karl thumped the door again, adrenaline overcoming the usual dizziness he felt after waking abruptly. It was a regular occurrence often prompted by Nadina’s crying and the sensation had taken longer to pass since he’d hit 50.
‘Brynja!’ Why wasn’t she answering?
‘Karl!’
He turned to find his wife, Marte, emerging from the side of the house. ‘Is the back door open?’
‘No, but come!’ she yelled over the wind. Marte had only been out of the car a few minutes and her coat was already plastered with snow.
Karl shielded his eyes with his hand and followed her through the trench she’d already made. They hadn’t even dressed properly before they’d started their journey. He had no gloves and his hands were already burning with the cold.
Marte was illuminated by light spilling out of a large circular window and halted. She said nothing but turned to Karl as he joined her there.
‘Jesus wept.’ He was looking into the expansive dining room. They’d attended many a family gathering and dinner party there. The long table was empty except for three places laid at one end. Plates and cutlery still hadn’t been cleared away and a single candle had almost burnt down to its holder.
But it was the back wall that Karl immediately noticed. It was buttermilk yellow and highlighted the dark smears of blood that led to one wide trail halfway along it. It looked like it had been applied with a thick paintbrush and it stopped at the doorway where there were bloody fingerprints all around the light switch.
CHAPTER TWO
‘If we can’t get in, I’d better call the police.’ Marte produced her iPhone but her fingers paused on the screen as she looked abruptly back to the window.
Karl followed her gaze through the pane. Brynja had entered through the doorway from the kitchen.
‘Brynja!’ Marte rapped on the glass with her knuckles.
Marte’s sister seemed dazed and didn’t look up, even though she should have heard.
‘Brynja!’ Karl knocked the window harder. But now he could see the blood caking her nose and lips and smeared over her chest. She wore only a black silk dressing gown that was gaping open and was barefoot.
‘You’ll have to break the window.’ Marte banged harder.
Brynja’s eyes swivelled slowly in their direction but she didn’t react to their presence.
‘Let us in!’ Marte shouted.
They both waited, harsh flakes blasting them, until Brynja slightly nodded and turned slowly back to the kitchen.
Karl and Marte made their way to the rear of the house. Tonight had been only the second one they’d spent alone since Nadina had been born. She was nearly two and a half and had gone to stay with Marte’s parents so they could enjoy a meal in town. Only a few hours before, he and Marte had been making love and drinking red wine in bed.
They reached the back door. A bolt was shot and a key turned before it opened. Brynja stepped back and they darted inside.
Karl closed the door against the blizzard and noticed the blood all over the handle. He turned to find Marte holding Brynja by the shoulders.
‘What happened?’
Brynja ignored her sister’s question and stared past her to Karl.
‘Where’s Kjell?’ Marte tightened the belt of Brynja’s gown.
‘Brynja.’ Karl stepped forward and bent so he was looking straight into her eyes. ‘Where’s Kjell?’ He could see blood coated both her hands.
Marte made for the door to the dining room. ‘Kjell!’
‘Marte, wait.’ He caught her by the elbow. ‘Stay with her. Let me take a look.’
Karl walked into the dining room. ‘Kjell?’
CHAPTER THREE
Karl examined the dark trail smudged across the wall and could see bloody footprints all over the wooden tiles. ‘Kjell!’
No response. Karl passed the large family portrait on the wall – Brynja, Kjell and Vigar grinning in a photographer’s pristine white studio. There was a fine spray of blood over the bottom of the glass and the silver frame. Vigar was now attending college. Karl suspected it was why this had happened.
From what Marte had told him he knew Brynja had dreaded the day Vigar left home. He was the referee. She and Kjell had pursued clandestine relationships outside their marriage. With Vigar gone they only had each other and their hostility had been on a slow-burn for some years.
‘Kjell?’
Karl knew they’d fought but, as far as he’d known, it was throwing the occasional piece of crockery at each other. Had they been hiding a more turbulent private life behind all the happy parties they’d held in this room?
Outwardly, they led the perfect life. Kjell was a financial analysis manager for Ellefsen Petrochemical; Brynja was the homemaker and Vigard the academic son. But having sat at their table, Karl didn’t need Marte to tell him what lurked behind the facade. Kjell was a womaniser who was only an occasional stepfather to Vigar, Brynja was resentful because she’d suspended her medical career to run his home and Vigar had come off the rails in his early teens as a result of their bitternes
s towards each other.
Karl stepped around the red footprints and moved into the hallway. There was more blood on the doorjamb and a large pool soaking into the fawn carpet. He swallowed and tensed himself against what he was about to find. Nudging open the study door, he surveyed the room.
Nothing out of place in here. He walked around the side of Kjell’s desk, but he wasn’t lying there. Karl padded back out into the hallway and then into the main lounge.
The large TV on the wall was on a news channel with the sound turned down, and a modern log-burner was crackling away. But whatever struggle had begun in the dining room didn’t appear to have disturbed the interior. He always felt as if this particular part of the house felt more like a showroom than a home. None of the chic but uncomfortable furniture had been disturbed from their positions in front of the large, triple-glazed doors.
Karl returned to the hallway and was about to ascend the stairs when Marte called his name from the kitchen. He hurried back and found she’d seated Brynja on a stool at the breakfast bar. She seemed to recognise him when he entered.
‘Brynja, tell Karl what you told me.’
Brynja was Marte’s big sister and they both shared the same hazel locks and elegant good looks. Brynja’s hair was cut short and streaked purple – another new style. She was ten years older than Marte but suddenly her features seemed so much older than her 38 years.
‘He’s dead.’ She wiped the blood away from her split lip with the heel of her hand.
Karl dropped to one knee. ‘Kjell?’
She nodded. ‘I killed him.’
CHAPTER FOUR
‘Where is he now?’ Karl spoke first.
‘You’re sure of this?’ Marte took off her coat and dumped it behind her.
Brynja nodded.
‘Tell me where he is.’ Karl could see the blood on the white tiles around her feet.
She shook her head.
‘Brynja, tell Karl where he is.’ There was a tremor in Marte’s voice.
‘Maybe you didn’t kill him. But if he’s injured, we have to get him medical attention as soon as possible.’
‘He’s dead.’
He turned to Marte. ‘Then we have to call the police now.’
Marte looked as bewildered as Brynja but nodded once.
‘He couldn’t control himself. He’d been drinking vodka all day.’ Brynja clasped her red hands in her lap.
‘He attacked you?’ Marte whispered.
‘My pills. They’re in the cupboard.’ Brynja pointed to the one beside Marte.
Marte opened it and took out the canister. ‘So you defended yourself?’
A tear rolled down Brynja’s cheek. ‘It got out of hand so quick.’
Marte read the label of the canister. ‘How long have you been taking these?’
‘Just give me two and a glass of water.’
Marte complied while Karl took a dry coat off the hooks inside the door and draped it around Brynja. She slammed the pills and washed them down.
He held her eye. ‘Brynja, where’s Kjell now?’
‘In the car.’
‘In the garage?’ He hadn’t seen one on the drive when they’d arrived.
‘No. At Hawken Pond.’
‘Why is he there?’
‘I panicked.’
Karl gripped her forearms. ‘What did you do?’
‘I took his body out there.
There was a thump from overhead. Karl followed Brynja’s eyes to the ceiling.
CHAPTER FIVE
Karl frowned. ‘Who’s upstairs?’
‘Nobody.’ Brynja looked at the floor.
Another bump made the overhead beam vibrate.
Marte took the glass from her hand.
‘I told you, there’s nobody up there.’ Brynja didn’t raise her eyes.
Karl walked to the door. ‘I’ll check.’
‘Karl!’ Brynja glared at him.
He ignored her and walked back through the dining room.
‘Wait!’ She yelled from behind him.
Karl could hear bare feet on the wooden tiles as she followed him, stepped around the blood and hastened to the bottom of the stairs. He took them two at a time and found more smudges of blood on the wooden floor between the closed doors on the landing.
‘Come back!’ Brynja commanded from the hallway.
Karl heard Marte placating her and moved along the landing, quickly shoving the first door he came to. It was the spare room. He and Marte had slept in there the night they’d had too much to drink at Christmas. Empty.
He opened the next. It was Brynja and Kjell’s bedroom and everything was in its place.
He heard footsteps ascending the stairs. Brynja was on her way up.
Karl pushed another door. It was the bathroom and there was nobody inside. He was just about to move further down the landing when he noticed the steam within the frosted shower cubicle. The door was sealed and he stepped in to open it.
He could hear water dripping steadily inside and grabbed hold of the handle.
‘Anybody in there?’
He couldn’t see the silhouette of anybody standing behind the glass so tugged the door. The steam rolled out of the cubicle at him but it was unoccupied.
‘Karl!’ Brynja sounded furious as he turned back to the door.
A naked man was crouching behind it.
CHAPTER SIX
‘Vigar.’ Karl immediately recognised Brynja’s son.
He was glistening wet, his long, fair hair plastered to his forehead, his eyes puffy and expression petrified.
‘What are you doing here? I thought you were at college.’
Brynja appeared at the doorway. ‘I told you not to come up here,’ she said despondently.
Karl grabbed a towel and threw it at Vigar.
His reflexes weren’t fast enough and it landed at his feet. He snatched it up from the floor.
Marte was at her sister’s shoulder. ‘Brynja, what’s really going on?’
‘Tell them.’
Vigar tied the towel around his waist. ‘I told you it was a bad idea.’ His words were slurred.
Brynja’s lip quivered.
‘Why don’t you tell us, Vigar.’ Karl softened his tone.
Vigar took a smaller towel from the rack and pressed it to his face. ‘I killed him.’
‘No.’ Brynja wrenched her shoulder from Marte’s hand. ‘That’s not true. He’s trying to protect me.’
Vigar wiped at his eyes and Karl realised there were tears streaming from them. He sniffed. ‘We can’t do this, Mum. It’s not going to work.
‘I hit Kjell with the iron.’ Brynja held Karl’s gaze. ‘That’s how it happened.’
‘Vigar?’ Karl turned back to him and immediately understood the situation.
Vigar was only 19. Had barely begun his life. There were hardly any hairs on his pale, skinny body.
‘He was hitting Mum. I couldn’t stand by.’ He dumped the face towel in the sink. ‘He’d been drinking but so had I.’ He seated himself on the side of the bath, momentarily teetered and then found his balance. His body sagged.
‘She was in the middle of ironing. When he struck me for the third time I grabbed the iron and swung it at him. I just meant to scare him. He went berserk and I had no choice.’ He bowed his head, closed his eyes tight and squeezed out another tear.
Marte exchanged a look with Karl. ‘Brynja, where is Kjell?’
‘I told you. At the pond. We drove him out there in his car.’
‘What the hell were you thinking?’ Marte couldn’t keep the anger out of her voice.
‘It’s iced over but it’s still very thin. We parked on the edge and rolled the car onto it.’
‘Jesus Christ!’ Marte shook her head in disbelief. ‘You dumped him. And then what did you think you’d do?’
‘He always loved to be alone with his thoughts there. Unless he was meeting his mistress.’ Brynja’s features hardened.
‘What happened?’ Kar
l asked but dreaded the reply.
‘The ice cracked.’ Vigar’s leg started to jig. ‘We waited. That’s when the blizzard started. But we stood there until it gave under the weight.’
‘How long ago was this?’ Karl felt a rock of dread slide into the bottom of his stomach.
‘About an hour ago.’ Brynja put her hand to Vigar’s wet hair.
‘How long did you think it would remain hidden?’ Marte asked incredulously.
‘We didn’t,’ Vigar answered. ‘Only one back tyre broke the ice. The car’s still there.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
Brynja filled her chest. ‘I’m sorry I called you. I hoped you and Karl … that Karl might know what to do.’
Wind hissed dry flakes at the bathroom windowpane.
Marte shook her head at Brynja, as if she didn’t recognise the person in front of her.
‘Both of you, just wait in here. Marte …’ Karl gestured her onto the landing.
Marte followed and he walked back to the top of the stairs. He felt hollowed out because of what he had to do. And he knew Marte was thinking the same.
‘You realise what this means?’ He kept his voice low.
Marte reluctantly nodded. ‘I can’t believe they were so stupid,’ she whispered.
‘I’ll make the call.’ He held out his palm to her for the phone. ‘Marte?’ he said when she didn’t produce it.
