84
Joe
Stromness Bay is calm after the heavy swell of open sea. Through water as clear as glass, Joe can see kelp swaying like underwater forests in a gentle breeze. Shadows dart here and there, too fast for him to make out what is swimming below. A powerful smell of guano hits the back of his throat as Ralph steers them through the seals and penguins to the slipway at Husvik. They haul the RIB out of reach of the tide and then both Ralph and Jack arm themselves with boat hooks to fend off aggressive seals.
‘Stick to the path and take care,’ Jack tells them. ‘In fact, stay in single file behind me. This place isn’t safe.’
They head inland, watched by a thousand pairs of eyes. They pass a penguin colony amid the grass. The birds are small, a little over two feet in height, with black heads, shoulders and backs and white breasts. They have bright-yellow feathers above each scarlet red eye. Their beaks are orange and hooked.
‘Macaroni penguins,’ Ralph tells them. ‘They’ll be gone in a couple of weeks. The young are almost ready to go out to sea.’
‘Mum would have loved this,’ Joe says.
‘I’ll stop off with her on the way back,’ Ralph promises. ‘Can’t have the lovely Delilah going home without a proper look at the place.’
They steer their way through the derelict buildings of the whaling station and then Jack opens the BAS facility and leads them inside. He makes immediately for the radio in the office while the others look around.
‘No sign of her,’ Ralph says, unnecessarily, when they’ve searched the building.
‘Would she have stayed in one of the other buildings?’ Joe asks.
‘Not if she’s half a brain,’ Jack replies. ‘They’re riddled with asbestos and completely unstable. I reached base, by the way. There’s another RIB about an hour away.’
‘Any news on Freddie?’ Joe asks.
Jack shakes his head. ‘They haven’t found him.’
Skye says. ‘Where would she go from here?’
‘The glacier,’ Jack says, after a moment’s thought. ‘There’s a cave where we keep stuff. And an equipment hut on the way. She could get everything she needed in there.’
Joe looks at him carefully. ‘Is there something you’re not telling us?’
Jack seems to be thinking for a moment. Then, ‘Nigel mentioned something else on the radio,’ he says. ‘It may be nothing, but…’
They wait.
‘We’ve been monitoring a glacial lake for some weeks.’ He glances, uncomfortably, at Ralph. ‘We put some equipment in it a couple of days ago to monitor the water levels.’
‘Starting to drop?’ Ralph asks.
Grim-faced, Jack lets his head fall and rise.
‘What does that mean?’ asks Skye.
‘It means the glacier will be very unstable,’ Jack tells her. ‘Not a good place to be.’
For a moment, no one speaks.
‘You need to contact your mum,’ Ralph tells Joe. ‘I’ll show you.’
‘Skye and I will set off,’ Jack says. ‘We’ll wait at the equipment hut.’
It takes Joe no time at all to reach his mother on Bird Island. The signal isn’t great, but his mum has been using radios her whole adult life.
‘I’m going to tell you in snippets, Joe. I need you to confirm you understand or request that I repeat. No unnecessary chat.’
‘We got here safely, thanks for asking,’ Ralph mutters.
‘Understood,’ Joe says into the transmitter.
‘The business man from Strasbourg, you know the witness from the night Dora was murdered? He’s arrived and was interviewed first thing this morning. You’ll recall that the UK is two hours ahead of us.’
‘Understood.’ Joe looks at his watch. Half past nine in the UK.
‘His hotel room on the night in question was on the third floor, directly overlooking the river and an area of public open space. He claims he saw a young woman with long blonde hair wearing a white dress.’
Joe glances up at Ralph and sees him mouth the word, Felicity.
‘He’s quite specific about the time, and even wrote it down. It was twenty-three-ten hours. Are you getting all this, Joe?’
‘I am. Carry on.’
‘He saw Felicity being attacked by another person. I repeat, Felicity was attacked. He saw the two of them fighting for several seconds and while he can’t be sure about this, he though the other person had a knife. He—’
‘Was this Dora?’ Joe asks.
‘Don’t interrupt me, Joe. He tried to call down but the window only opened a couple of inches. Health and safety regs. While he was wondering what to do, a third person appeared, this one answering the description of Dora Hardwick. Dora appeared to be trying to intervene. At this point, our witness decided to run outside, but by the time he got there, all three of them had vanished. He saw what he thought might be the woman in the white dress some distance away and ran after her but he lost track. When he got back to the place where he’d seen the fight, there was no sign of anyone. Are you still with me? Over.’
‘I am. Did he report it? And do we have any idea who the third person was?’
‘He didn’t report it. He just assumed it was a quarrel that had been settled. And his description of the third party is vague. Young, possibly white, dressed in dark casual clothes and wearing a backpack, but could have been male or female. Joe, would it be in character for Dora to intervene in a fight? Over.’
‘Yes.’ Joe can feel the back of his throat stinging. ‘She was fearless.’
‘The key thing is that Felicity does not seem to have been the aggressor. And she was seen running away. She couldn’t have put Dora’s body in the drain. Why the hell she didn’t tell us this and save us all some time—’
‘She couldn’t,’ Joe says. ‘She wasn’t Felicity. She was one of the alters. She would have no memory of it.’
‘Felicity didn’t kill anyone?’ Ralph asks. ‘Let me talk to her.’ He grabs the transmitter. ‘Delilah, love, are you saying Felicity didn’t kill this old dear? Over.’
‘I’m saying the situation is becoming more complicated. Now, put my son back on.’
Joe takes the transmitter back. ‘We need to find out who this other person is,’ he says. ‘Could it have been Freddie?’
‘We know he was in Cambridge that night, but the description doesn’t fit. According to our witness, the aggressor was five-four or five-five at most and a very slim build. And he or she moved like a young person. Felicity’s dad is said to be well over six foot.’
‘So who the hell—’
‘Hold that thought, because there’s more. The team are at Peterhouse College now. They finally got permission to excavate the drain. They’ve cleared the way into the old cellars and found evidence that someone was living in them.’
‘Living in the cellars?’
‘Sleeping bag, blankets, remains of food packaging. Someone was definitely bedding down in there, crawling in and out through the drain.’
‘Dora?’ Joe says. He can’t see it. She was too old, too frail.
There is a frustrating crackle of static and then his mother says,
‘Not necessarily. They’ve found another body.’
85
Freddie
Freddie is on the point of heading back up the glacier when he spots the RIB coming into harbour at Husvik. He lifts his binoculars and sees the three men and one woman. He is tempted to go down, attract their attention, wait for them. Five people will have a much better chance of rescuing Felicity than he will alone, but he cannot leave her for any longer than he has to.
He goes back into the equipment hut and looks around. There, on a shelf at head height, is a canvas bag of small flags, no doubt used to mark positions on the ice. There is a hammer in the bag too. He slings it over his shoulder and leaves the hut door open before starting to climb again. The daylight makes it easier this time, and he can follow his own footsteps in the snow for most of the way. Twenty yards up, he h
ammers a yellow flag into the ice and carries on. Another twenty yards, and he leaves another flag, a red one this time. Each time he stops, he looks down towards Husvik but the team from King Edward Point have gone inside the manager’s villa.
The glacier shifts again before he is halfway back but this time he is ready for it. He has fastened crampons onto his boots and carries twin walking poles. He plants his feet and waits for the shaking to subside. A little further up he spots his backpack on the ground and picks up his pace. He is almost there.
‘Felicity, I’m back. I’ve got rope. Not much longer now.’
There is no answer. He carries on, drops his equipment and falls flat so that he can look over the edge of the moulin. He sees boulders of ice, gleaming silver, white and blue. He sees heaps of snow. He sees the milky turquoise stream of meltwater, so much wider and faster than when he left an hour ago, but no sign of his daughter.
And then he spots something, a fragment of black cloth. She is still there, twenty feet below him, curled into a ball and almost covered in snow. She doesn’t move. Struck with fear that she has frozen to death, he yells down.
‘Felicity!’
86
Felicity
Even as the walls of the moulin have taken on a soft gold sheen with the rising sun, the cold has become a living thing in Felicity’s mind. It has seeped out of the ice and stretched its long, thin fingers towards her. It has laughed and chattered at her as it raced past in the ever-growing stream of meltwater. It has tickled and kissed and teased her in the flurries of snow. Most of all, it has pressed up into her bones from the boulder she is sitting on. Last time she tried to shift her position, she had to prise the seat of her trousers away. She hasn’t moved since.
For the first half-hour, she tried to eat but after a while even the chocolate became so cold and hard that biting it made things worse. She cannot bear to drink because the thought of putting cold liquid inside her fills her with dread. She thinks she might freeze from the inside out, that her throat will fill with ice. For a while her wet feet burned but it is some time since she has felt them.
The voices, that were so loud in their panic at first have fallen silent. She’s sensed them slipping away. Even Bamber hasn’t spoken for some time. At last, Felicity is alone.
She wraps her arms around her body and lets her head fall. She feels a deep sense of peace and knows that to fall asleep will be very easy. Somewhere, at the back of her head, one of the voices whispers that this is the very worst thing that she can do.
‘Shush,’ Felicity mumbles, and closes her eyes.
* * *
‘Felicity! Felicity, wake up. I’m back. I need to get you out of there. Felicity, wake the fuck up.’
The voice penetrates her dreams and she knows that somewhere in the world that she gladly left behind, someone wants to pull her back. She can’t though. Her eyelids are frozen shut and she really, really needs to sleep. These voices have to stop telling her what to do. Only she decides what she is going to do and right now she needs to sleep.
‘Felicity! For God’s sake, you have to wake up. You’re sitting in freezing water.’
The voice is right. The cold around her legs is different. It has become cold that moves. It’s wetter. She feels herself stirring but, oh no, it’s too hard. Better to stay down here, where it’s peaceful. Better to drift away completely. She feels a sense of rightness. This is how it is supposed to be. She is a woman of ice. Truly now. Forever.
‘Felicity, I’m coming down. Hold on.’
These voices will not leave her alone. She can hear hammering. The sound is rough, grating on her ears. How can she sleep with this racket? And now she becomes aware of the sound of running water. It is musical and pleasant but maybe a bit too loud. Irritation grows as she realises the lovely calm sleepiness is drifting away. She might, actually, be waking up.
The hammering stops, but a second later she hears a loud clatter and feels the ice tremble as something heavy lands close by. Then there is a sliding sound, followed by several loud bumps. Something is pulling at her. There are hands on her shoulders, then under her arms and she is being lifted. Gloved hands are wiping the snow from her face and her cheeks are being slapped.
‘Felicity, wake up. Come on, wake up, we have to get you out of here.’
She knows that voice. Freddie is here. She is afraid of Freddie, isn’t she? And yet leaning against him, feeling the warmth of his body, even through the thick clothing, is nice. Even nicer than the cold sleepiness he has dragged her from.
‘Arm hurts,’ she says.
‘I know, and I’m sorry, but I have to get this harness on you. I have to pull you out. Felicity, listen to me, there are other people coming. They’ll be here in an hour, maybe less, but I don’t think you can wait. You need to be out of the wet.’
The pain in her arm brings her out of her stupor. She opens her eyes and sees Freddie by her side. They are up to their thighs in water and he is tugging a climbing harness over her shoulders. Behind him, she can see a double rope hanging down over the side of the moulin.
‘How will you get out?’ she says.
‘Shush. I need to bring your arm through here. Steady now.’
She cries but he is ruthless and she can hear the harness being clipped together at her chest.
‘Ok, let’s get you to the rope. Just a few feet. Come on, I’ve got you.’
The world around them shakes again, a bigger tremor than any they have felt so far and a thundering sound fills their ears. For a second, she can’t place it. Then she does. It is the sound of a great quantity of water falling.
‘It’s too late,’ she says.
The ice is trembling. The river they are standing in rises rapidly now, reaching their waists.
‘Shit,’ Freddie says.
Felicity follows her father’s gaze to see a wall of blue water hurtling towards them down the tunnel. The plug at the lake has broken at last, the water is draining and a hundred thousand cubic metres are heading their way.
‘Come on.’ Freddie reaches up for the pulley that will fasten her to the rope and give her a chance of getting out, but she squirms in his arms and with her left hand, clips the front of her harness on to his life jacket.
‘What the fuck?’
He brushes her hand aside, and tries to undo what she’s just done, but the wall of water hits them and sweeps them both away.
87
Joe
Joe and Ralph catch up with the other two at a small equipment hut at the foot of the Konig Glacier.
‘They’ve been here,’ Skye tells them. ‘It looked like the hut had been ransacked when we arrived.’
‘Not Felicity’s doing,’ Jack adds. ‘She’s incapable of leaving a cupboard untidy.’
‘She may not have been herself,’ Joe tells him. Not allowing himself to hope, he is keeping the information from his mother at bay. But another body in the drain with Dora? A third person spotted that night, someone small and thin and unusually aggressive?
‘We normally land in the next bay along, Fortuna Bay, when we’re working here.’ Jack hands crampons to Joe and Ralph. ‘It’s a shorter walk. Here, you’ll need poles, the ice is very unstable. Everyone ready?’
‘What’s that?’ Joe has spotted a yellow flag in the ice.
‘Good question,’ Jack replies. ‘There are more higher up.’
‘Jack went up a short way while we were waiting,’ Skye explains, as she and Joe follow the other two up onto the ice. ‘There’s a trail of flags going up the glacier. And he thinks he saw tracks. Two sets of footsteps. One much bigger than the other.’
‘Freddie,’ says Joe. ‘He’s followed her up.’
They begin to climb, Joe at the rear. Ahead, he hears Ralph telling Jack and Skye what they’ve recently learned from Delilah. Behind them, the sun is rising higher and the glacier comes alive with sound that is almost musical. Melting water drips into blue pools and snow particles in the air glint like diamonds.
/> ‘She’s definitely heading for the ice sheet,’ Jack calls back. ‘Can we step it up a bit?’
The climb already feels punishingly steep, and Joe has barely slept the previous night, but he forces his feet to move faster. They pass a red flag, and an orange one.
‘So, what does it mean,’ Skye asks, when Ralph has finished. ‘Is she not this Shane after all?’
‘Oh, she’s Shane all right, there’s no doubt about that,’ Joe calls up. ‘But Shane may not have killed anyone.’
So where did Bella Barnes fit in? If Dora’s death was a result of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, what happened to Bella? A different killer or the same? And who have his mother’s team found in the cellars beneath Peterhouse College? He has no answers, and so he stops asking questions.
They continue up. The ice turns into a landscape that belongs on another, frozen, world. Around him, Joe sees abstract sculptures that could have been carved from human hands, so perfect are they in form and structure.
‘What was that?’ Skye turns pale when the second tremor halts them all in their tracks.
‘The ice sheets are moving.’ Jack is stony-faced. ‘Come on.’
They carry on. When both Skye and Ralph have fallen behind and Joe isn’t sure he can go much further, he hears a cry from Jack. The man actually steps up his pace.
‘This isn’t Felicity’s.’ When Joe catches up Jack is holding a rucksack. ‘Can you see up there?’ He is pointing to several feet higher up the slope.
‘Rope?’
Pegs have been hammered into the ice and two lines of rope disappear into the ground. Scattered around is more equipment, and the bag of flags that they’ve been following.
‘Stay there!’ Jack yells down to Skye and Ralph. ‘Don’t move. Stay still and wait.’
‘What’s going on?’ Joe is suddenly very afraid.
‘The ice is very unstable. Stay exactly behind me and move slowly.’
The Split Page 29