But I need to talk to Luuk alone, with no danger of being overheard. The last thing I want to do is add fuel to the perpetual game of Chinese whispers that pervades the station, exacerbated now by Alex’s mysterious death.
I hesitate, cursing myself. Why didn’t I learn how to drive a skidoo? Arne offered to teach me, Drew too, but I always made excuses; truth is they make me nervous. I’ve heard too many stories of snowmobiles overturning, trapping their riders underneath.
Being imprisoned for two hours in an upturned car was enough for one lifetime.
Steeling myself, I set off in what I’m praying is the right direction, using the guide ropes to steer towards Gamma. The urge to turn around and hurry back to safety increases with every fumbling step. Even the sound of my own breathing, louder as I leave the vicinity of the base, unnerves me.
I feel as if I am venturing into the void.
After a few minutes I pause, trying to steady my ragged breathing, and slow my racing heart. I inhale deeply, forcing myself to calm down. But I can’t stand still for long. Already the cold is penetrating my thick layers of clothing, making my skin tingle and my muscles ache. I try not to think about Alex being out here virtually naked, and focus instead on Luuk.
Why was he in Alex’s cabin that night? And why not admit it to Sandrine, when she interviewed everyone last week? The very fact that he’s prepared to lie – or at the least hide the truth – is undoubtedly a red flag.
You could always take this to Sandrine yourself, says a voice in my head. Let her deal with it. Leave her to question Luuk again.
But I don’t trust her, I realise, flashing back to when we examined Alex’s body; her rush to the conclusion of suicide, despite those strange marks on his ankles. My sense is that our station leader wanted to wrap the whole thing up neatly and quickly, that more than anything she abhors loose ends.
And this is most definitely a loose end.
Suddenly my hand hits empty space as I run out of guide rope. I stop again, peering into the dense blackness beyond my torch beam, trying to stay calm.
You can do this, says my inner cheerleader. What was it Roosevelt said? You have nothing to fear except fear itself.
I take another deep breath and strike out in what I hope is the right direction, ice crystals crunching beneath my boots. Enclosed in the tight hood of my parka, the noise of my pulse pounding in my ears, the jagged sound of each exhale as I propel myself into the night, is almost deafening.
But the further I go, the more terrified I become. I can’t shake off a persistent nameless dread that something lurks in the surrounding darkness. That I’m not alone. I constantly fight the urge to spin around and check behind me.
‘Get a grip!’ I hiss to myself, out loud this time, my hand aching from clutching my torch so tightly. Like Ark said, the monsters are only in your head.
They’re not real.
To my immense relief, I finally spot a white dome looming in the distance. I hurry towards it, stumbling on the uneven ground. As I reach the igloo, I see one of the skidoos parked outside, a faint light glowing through the large blocks of ice that make up the walls. Several red jackets lie on the ground, looking eerily like patches of blood against the white of the snow.
I pause again, feeling another sudden, irrational surge of apprehension. Anyone might be in there. And what if they resent the intrusion?
Don’t be ridiculous, Kate.
I switch off my torch and approach the arched entranceway. Pushing on the makeshift wooden door, I stand gawping at the spectacle before me: Luuk and Ark, both stripped naked to the waist, sprawled on what looks like a pair of sun loungers. A fierce heat blasts from two paraffin heaters running at full tilt in the tiny space, only a small hole in the roof to vent the fumes. A couple of kerosene lamps provide a cosy orange glow.
‘What the fuck?’ Luuk stares at me aghast, quickly dropping something onto the ice and crushing it under the heel of his boot. It doesn’t take a genius to work out what it was. The stench of marijuana hangs heavy in the air, thicker even than the smell of paraffin.
‘Kate,’ beams Ark, as I remove my goggles. ‘How nice you join us.’ He grimaces as a large drop of water drips from the ceiling, hitting him on the nose.
‘Actually,’ I say, voice stammering with cold and surprise, ‘I was after Luuk.’
Ark raises an eyebrow. ‘You lucky then – I leave anyway.’ He heaves himself to his feet and pulls on his thermal top, picking up a torch from beside his chair. ‘Have a seat.’ He gestures towards the lounger as he squeezes past me. ‘I walk to base,’ he says to Luuk.
Luuk doesn’t move, just scowls in my direction as Ark disappears into the night. I can’t see his pupils, but I’m guessing he’s pretty high.
I hesitate. Should I return with Ark? Postpone my talk with Luuk until he’s back at Alpha?
No, I decide. Now or never.
‘What’s this about?’ he asks with a wary expression.
‘I wanted to ask you something.’
‘Couldn’t it wait? Seems a fuck of a lot of effort, coming out here.’
‘No, it couldn’t. I need to go over a few things before I close my report to UNA.’
Luuk narrows his eyes at me, waiting for me to go on.
‘You went with Drew to check the area where Alex was found, didn’t you?’
He nods.
‘Did you notice anything?’
‘Such as?’ No mistaking the hostility in his tone.
‘Such as any clues as to how he died.’
‘Nothing at all. We checked everywhere, even around the tower.’
‘So you couldn’t see his tracks in the snow?’
Luuk shrugs in that offhand way of his. ‘Lots of tracks around there, Kate. People go out to Omega all the time.’
He has a point. I draw a deep breath and press on. ‘I was going through the activity band data earlier …’ I pause, watching his expression carefully, but nothing alters, ‘and I noticed you were in the vicinity of Alex’s room that night.’
‘That night. You mean the night he died?’
I nod. ‘Around two in the morning. We can’t be certain of the exact time of death, but you may well have been the last person to see him alive.’
Luuk digests this, his face blank. I wait for him to speak, but there’s nothing.
‘So I’m wondering, how was he? When you saw him.’
A small smile plays across Luuk’s lips, gone in an instant. ‘Don’t you mean, Kate, that you’re wondering what I was doing there?’
‘That too,’ I admit.
Luuk leans back in the lounger. ‘Why don’t you sit down,’ he says, rubbing his face as he thinks.
‘I’d rather stand.’ In truth, the heat inside the igloo is so cloying I’m reluctant to venture any deeper. Plus I want to stay close to the exit.
Just in case.
‘Okay,’ Luuk sighs. ‘Straight up, I went to his cabin to borrow his vape pen. I couldn’t find mine and I needed a smoke. Also, I was concerned about him. He seemed really out of it when he went to bed; I wanted to make sure he was okay.’
‘How long were you in his room?’
‘Don’t you already know?’ he sneers. ‘From the data?’
I don’t reply. Simply wait for him to speak.
‘It occurs to me, Kate, to ask how, exactly, any of this is your business? How is this relevant to your medical report?’
I take off a glove and wipe sweat from my forehead. ‘I’m the station doctor, Luuk. Alex is dead, and I’m trying to piece together why. How is that not my business?’
He regards me for a moment. ‘I was there about five minutes, okay. He didn’t answer the door when I knocked, so I opened it, called his name. Alex barely responded, just grunted. He was completely out of it – I assumed he’d taken something, sleeping pills perhaps.’ Luuk looks at me inquiringly but I don’t respond; Alex had consistently refused medication. ‘So I had a good look around, found his vaper in a drawer.’
‘Yeah.’ Luuk shrugs again. ‘I figured he wouldn’t mind. I’ve done him enough favours on that score.’
‘Such as?’
‘Sharing my stash, that kind of thing.’ His expression is challenging, as if goading me to recite UNA policy on illegal drugs.
‘I’m not here to judge, Luuk. But equally I’m not convinced that giving Alex marijuana was doing him a favour.’
‘Why?’
I sigh. ‘Alex seemed troubled by things. You might even say paranoid.’
Luuk snorts. ‘And you blame the drugs?’
‘Chances are it didn’t help.’
Anger flashes across Luuk’s face, and his jaw tightens with emotion. ‘Let’s get this clear. Are you actually accusing me of anything, Kate?’
I consider this. Am I accusing him of anything? I’m not sure.
‘I just want to understand what happened to Alex, that’s all. I owe him that much. We all owe him that much.’
Luuk’s eyes flick to the ceiling of ice right above our heads. Suddenly his shoulders slump. ‘I don’t know,’ he says quietly. ‘I’ve no clue what to think, but I can’t believe smoking a bit of skunk is what killed him. Besides, he hadn’t done it for ages. Jean-Luc didn’t approve, and Alex thought our late doctor was God, basically.’ He sighs. ‘Struck me as a shame; if anything, the weed helped mellow him out. He had some pretty strange ideas.’
‘Such as?’
‘That there was someone dangerous on the station. Someone we couldn’t trust. He claimed Jean-Luc was on to them.’
‘He talked to you about that?’ I frown with surprise.
‘A bit. Until Jean-Luc convinced him I was a health risk. We were quite friendly before that.’
‘Did Alex say anything else? About what Jean-Luc was investigating?’
Luuk shakes his head. ‘I tried to tease it out of him a few times when we were alone, before he went all abstinent on us, but he clammed up.’ He leans forward and scratches his beard. ‘To be truthful, I didn’t think that much about it. People say some pretty stupid stuff when they’re high, you learn not to take it too seriously. Plus Alex was … well … all that crap about Jean-Luc being murdered. You saw what he was like – he wasn’t right in the head.’
‘So what do you think happened to him then? Alex, I mean.’
Luuk ponders my question. ‘I have absolutely no idea. Maybe he simply lost it. Decided he’d had enough. He wouldn’t be the first, for sure – this place can drive you seriously fucking crazy.’
With that he gets to his feet. ‘I’ll give you a lift back to Alpha.’
‘It’s fine. I know the way.’
Luuk raises an eyebrow. ‘Like after the aurora? Don’t be silly, Kate.’
I ignore the jibe, wondering what I can do to prolong this conversation. I can’t help feeling there’s something Luuk is hiding. That I’ve not been asking the right questions. Including one lurking in the back of my mind.
Has Luuk ever been in my room as well?
Don’t go there, Kate, warns a voice in my head. No point in antagonising him further. Plus his explanation for being in Alex’s cabin seems plausible enough.
‘Okay,’ I say, admitting defeat. ‘Let’s go.’
26
4 July
‘Kate, can I speak to you?’
Sandrine’s face appears at her door as I walk past her office, on the way to Skype my sister. How the hell does she do that? I wonder, as I follow her inside. There’s no way she can see who’s in the corridor from her desk.
Does she recognise our footsteps? Some lingering scent? Or perhaps there’s a hidden camera out there?
Don’t be silly, Kate. That really is paranoid.
Sliding behind her desk, Sandrine eyeballs me. ‘This is becoming something of a habit, isn’t it?’
‘What is?’
‘These conversations. Me having to ask you what exactly you’re doing. I heard you’ve been talking to several members of my team.’
How on earth does she know that? I feel a small, childish twinge of betrayal. Did Luuk or Alice say anything? Drew?
‘Do you want to explain to me why?’ Sandrine prompts.
‘I have to make sure I’ve got a full picture of the circumstances of Alex’s death.’ I return her icy stare. ‘As the station doctor, it’s my responsibility to ensure I’ve investigated every possibility – especially given there won’t be an autopsy for months.’
This is a stand-off, I realise. One colleague challenging another’s authority, and her hostile expression tells me Sandrine’s as aware of this as I am.
‘Your job as station doctor is to treat the living, not stir up rumours about the dead.’
‘It is my job,’ I say slowly, ‘to be responsible for the welfare of everyone here. I need to make sure I haven’t overlooked anything. I’m being thorough, Sandrine.’
‘Why did you send those pictures to UNA? Of Alex. We didn’t agree to that.’
‘Those marks on his ankles, you mean?’ Too much ice in my tone, but I don’t care. I’m swept along in an upsurge of anger and frustration. ‘You dismissed them, Sandrine. You simply assumed his death was suicide. You haven’t made any effort—’
‘Don’t you think, if UNA had any concerns, you’d have heard back by now?’ the station leader cuts in.
I pause, considering. ‘I need to be certain,’ I add, knowing I’ve lost the argument.
Sandrine inhales, is about to respond when her radio beeps. She listens for a few seconds, then speaks into the microphone. ‘I’ll be there in a moment.’
She glances at me. ‘I have to go. We’ll discuss this further, Kate, but in the meantime, I want you to keep your speculations to yourself. No more stirring things up, am I clear?’
She reaches into the cupboard behind her desk and grabs a set of keys, then sweeps past me.
I stand there, feeling stung. Out of nowhere the past slams up to meet me: Ben and I arguing in the car. The woods, the rain.
‘You’re breaking up with me.’ A statement, not a question. One he doesn’t contradict.
The pain. The humiliation. How did I not see this coming?
Not now, Kate, I tell myself firmly, taking a deep breath.
Not now.
I turn to leave. Then hesitate. Glancing at the cupboard behind Sandrine’s desk, I notice that in her hurry she’s left it open. Inside are all the master keys to the base.
I check the door, listening. No footsteps or voices.
I go behind the desk and search for the locker keys. There, hanging by a ring, is one with ‘JL – Locker 9’ pencilled on the tab. I snatch it off the hook and put it in my pocket.
How long have I got? I’ve no idea who radioed Sandrine or why, but clearly it’s urgent enough to require her immediate attention. Hopefully she’ll be some time.
I quickly formulate a plan as I hurry towards the lockers in Beta. I locate number nine and open it. Leaving the door slightly ajar, I rush back to Sandrine’s office and knock gently.
Silence.
I go inside and return the key to the cabinet, heart racing at the thought of her walking in and catching me in the act.
Back in the safety of my clinic, I lock the door behind me and lean against it, trying to get my breathing under control.
Shit. What did I just do?
Never in my whole life have I done something this dodgy – unless you include writing all those prescriptions for myself after the accident.
There’s no doubt in my mind that I’ve crossed a line. Asking a few questions of the other winterers is one thing, stealing keys and breaking into a private space entirely another.
And it’s not as if I’m immune from discovery. If anyone notices that open locker, they’ll report it to Sandrine, and she’ll guess immediately it was me. I glance at the activity band on my wrist, thinking of the diagram Rob showed me of Alex’s movements in the station; the same could just as easily be done for me.
&nbs
p; How could I possibly explain myself?
I’m not even sure I can explain it to myself. It was pure impulse – I saw an opportunity and seized it.
Suddenly I’m overwhelmed by a crippling attack of anxiety. What the hell am I doing in this place? I think, as my legs buckle and I sink to the floor.
The world spins. Trees and road and sodden earth. Mayhem followed by silence.
I squeeze my eyes shut, force it all back down. I have to pull myself together.
Then, as now, what’s done is done.
No going back.
27
5 July
I wait until three in the morning before leaving my cabin. Not that it guarantees much. These days you can encounter anyone in the dead of night, given half the crew is now leading a bizarre, nocturnal existence.
I’ll have to take my chances; if I bump into somebody, at least they won’t find it odd that I’m up and about.
Retrieving the tiny flashlight from my bedside drawer, I down enough medication to calm my nerves but leave me alert, then venture towards Beta, taking the rabbit warren of corridors that leads to the equipment store. My hand reaches automatically for the switch, but I think better of it – why risk somebody seeing the light under the door?
I use my torch instead to navigate to the locker containing Jean-Luc’s belongings. Find, to my relief, it’s still open.
So far, so good.
Shining my light inside, I see several large black plastic bags stacked at the bottom. I wonder again why this stuff wasn’t returned after Jean-Luc died. What possible reason would Sandrine have for hanging on to it?
The same one, I guess, that prompted her to keep that letter.
I open the nearest and take a closer look, the clothes inside releasing a faint odour of expensive aftershave. My discomfort grows. This feels wrong, an invasion of a dead man’s privacy. God knows Jean-Luc had little dignity in death, suspended head first in the ice, and now, here I am, poking around his things. Should I really be doing it?
I pause, picturing the doctor’s face in those videos. His tense, anxious concern for everyone’s safety.
The Dark Page 20