I stare at her, confused. ‘Are you certain?’
‘Of course I’m certain. Why?’
‘No reason,’ I mutter. I make a pretence of checking the time on the wall clock. ‘I’m sorry, I have to go. I’ve just remembered I have to see someone.’
Caro gives me another puzzled look as she gets to her feet. ‘You sure you’re okay, Kate? You seem kind of jittery again.’
‘I’m fine,’ I lie, willing her to leave. ‘I’ll catch up with you later.’
The moment she’s gone I unlock the cabinet and help myself to a cocktail of meds. My hand is shaking, I notice, either from withdrawal or shock.
Luuk lied to me. He lied about his reasons for being in Alex’s room.
And I have absolutely no idea what to do about it.
31
5 July
I find Arne in the garage workshop, bending over one of the skidoos. I stand for a minute, watching him work, the efficiency and assurance in his movements. There’s something so … solid … so reassuring about him.
I’m ambushed by a rush of emotion, a raw and naked surge of attraction I can no longer deny. On its heels a sense of panic. I don’t want to feel this way about anyone, especially not here.
Especially not after Ben.
At that moment Arne turns, sees me, his face breaking into a broad smile.
‘Hey.’ He nods at my down-filled jacket. ‘You been outside?’
I shake my head. ‘Too chilly in here for me.’ Though the garage is heated, it’s still a sharp contrast to the balmy atmosphere of Alpha. Arne, on the other hand, is only wearing a short-sleeved black T-shirt and old jeans. I guess you get used to the cold in Iceland.
He gestures about the place. ‘Welcome to my domain. You’ve not spent much time in here, have you?’
I shake my head again. ‘Drew showed me around when I first arrived.’
‘Well, it’s not very exciting. Especially if you aren’t into engines.’ He studies my face. ‘So how are you today? You look as if you didn’t get much sleep last night.’
‘Not really.’ I pause, unsure how to proceed. ‘Listen, I need to talk to you.’
Arne puts down the wrench he’s holding. Leans against the workbench, his gaze assessing. ‘Fire away.’
‘I found out something the other day … Actually, that’s not quite true. I’ve been doing a bit of digging into what happened to Alex. There’s a few things surrounding his death I’m not happy about.’
Arne raises an eyebrow, but waits for me to continue.
‘I checked the activity band data for that night and it showed someone in his room not long before he died.’ I inhale slowly, trying to gather my thoughts. Should I tell all this to Arne? I wonder again.
Can I really trust him?
‘You going to let me know who, Kate?’
I throw caution to the wind. ‘Luuk.’
‘Luuk? You sure?’
‘The data doesn’t lie,’ I shrug. ‘Besides, he admitted it.’
Arne frowns. ‘You mean you’ve spoken to him about it? When?’
‘A few days ago.’
‘And what did he say?’
‘He said he went to check Alex was all right. And to borrow his vape pen.’ I pause again, then go on. ‘The thing is, Alex never owned one – not according to Caro.’
Arne mulls this over for a minute. ‘So Luuk lied?’
‘Apparently.’
‘Have you asked him why?’
‘Not yet. I’m not sure what to do. I should talk to Sandrine, probably, but …’ I trail off, letting Arne read between the lines.
He releases a long slow whistle. ‘Jesus. I don’t know what to say. So you believe Luuk had something to do with Alex’s death? But how? Are you now saying you don’t think it was suicide, Kate?’
I sidestep the question again. Ask him another instead. ‘You were at McMurdo, weren’t you?’
Arne nods.
‘When, exactly?’
‘A few years ago. For about three months. Why are you asking?’
‘Did you know a woman called Naomi Perez?’
Arne doesn’t speak for a moment, his expression inscrutable. ‘The girl they found on the ice? No. I left several weeks before that.’
I feel an ache of relief. But is he telling the truth?
God, what’s happening to me? I wonder, almost dizzy with confusion. Since when did I become so distrustful of … well, pretty much everyone?
‘Kate.’ Arne clears his throat. ‘I don’t understand where you’re going with all this. Do you think her death was suspicious? She got lost, I heard.’
‘No, I …’ I swallow. Regroup. ‘I don’t know. It just seemed a coincidence, that’s all, you being there around the same time as her.’
Arne shrugs. ‘It’s a big station. Over a thousand staff, and not only Americans. Lots of people keen to spend time in Antarctica do a stint at McMurdo – it’s a great way to get the experience before applying for some of the smaller bases. In my case they had a really good training programme on maintaining vehicles in sub-zero temperatures. A few of us have worked there.’
‘Like who?’
‘Sonya, for one.’ Arne’s eyes flick to the ceiling as he thinks. ‘Jean-Luc, and Luuk too, I think.’
‘Jean-Luc? Are you certain?’
Arne nods. ‘We talked about it a few times. He overlapped with me by a few weeks, though we never met. He joked about it being a shame I was so healthy.’
‘Okay.’ I churn this over in my mind. So Naomi Perez was the girl Jean-Luc referred to in his video log.
‘Kate?’
I look up to see Arne frowning at me. ‘Level with me. Are you saying there’s something going on here? Why are you so interested in McMurdo anyway?’
I gaze back at him. If ever there were a moment to open up to Arne it’s this one. It’s now or never – either I trust him or I walk away. I hesitate a second longer then take the plunge. ‘I’m not sure,’ I admit, ‘but I don’t believe Jean-Luc’s death was an accident. Nor Alex’s.’
Arne stays silent, waiting for me to elaborate.
‘Those pills … the boxes were hidden at the back of the cupboard. Somebody removed several from each packet, and took pains to disguise it. And I reckon whoever did that gave them to Alex.’
I take another deep breath, force myself on. ‘I think he was drugged, Arne, so he could be taken out onto the ice without a struggle. There were marks on his ankles, probably from being tied up until he froze to death. Then the killer removed the evidence so it looked like suicide.’
Still no response, but Arne is studying me with an intense expression.
‘There are other things,’ I continue. ‘Jean-Luc made a video log, saying he was worried there was someone dangerous on the station. Then his videos disappeared. Simply vanished from the system. Alex’s have gone too – I checked this morning.’
‘You watched Jean-Luc’s video logs?’ The lines on Arne’s forehead deepen. ‘I thought those were supposed to be private?’
Heat rises to my cheeks. ‘Yeah,’ I say sheepishly. ‘I probably shouldn’t have done that.’
‘No, you shouldn’t.’
I drop my gaze, feeling wrong-footed. This is not going how I hoped.
‘You’re right,’ I admit. ‘But I was trying to work out what was going on with Alex, whether there was any truth in the things he was saying.’
Arne sighs, running a hand through his hair. ‘So why would this person, if he exists, kill Alex? Are you implying that whoever it was murdered Jean-Luc too?’
‘I think so. I reckon whoever killed Jean-Luc overheard my argument with Alex, just before midwinter. So they knew he was digging into all this.’
‘All what?’
‘What happened to Jean-Luc.’
‘Okay …’ Arne looks confused. ‘But I still don’t understand what this has to do with that woman at McMurdo.’
‘According to Alex, Jean-Luc believed someone died out here in Ant
arctica, and that it wasn’t an accident. And Jean-Luc said in his video there might be somebody dangerous on the base. If it were true, and that person found out, it would be a motive, wouldn’t it, to get rid of Jean-Luc? Alex too, if he was getting close to the truth.’
Arne’s attention is fixed on my face the entire time I’m speaking. ‘Kate, do you have any idea how insane this all sounds?’
I blink at him, feeling mortified. Regretting coming here, telling him all of this.
Not clever, Kate. Not very clever at all.
‘I’m sorry. I thought you wanted to help.’ I turn away, but a hand pulls me back.
‘Kate,’ Arne’s tone is conciliatory. ‘Please … I didn’t mean to sound critical. It’s …’ He falters. ‘It’s a lot to take in, all right?’
I nod. Swipe away the tear that has leaked onto my scarred cheek.
‘Do you have proof of any of this?’ Arne asks. ‘Apart from the activity data?’
I shake my head. ‘Not really. Only some photos of the marks on Alex’s ankles.’
‘Did you write any of it down? Those things Jean-Luc said?’
I shake my head again. ‘I was going to. It was in French, and I wanted to be certain I’d understood it all correctly. I planned to show Sandrine, but when I went back to watch it again, someone had deleted all his video logs from the system.’
‘In French?’ Arne bites his lip. ‘Is it possible you misheard? You’re not fluent, are you?’
‘Not fluent, no. But I’m pretty confident that’s what he said. That he had to be certain we weren’t in danger. Something like that.’
‘So you’ve no evidence then, without that video? Nothing concrete.’
‘No. Apart from the photographs of Alex’s ankles. And the missing medication, I guess.’
Arne gives me a look, and the penny finally drops. He knows. He knows about me. He must have guessed when those pills dropped out of my pocket.
Oh shit. And now he doesn’t believe me. He thinks I’m covering up my own habit.
I blink at him, trying to think what to say, but he beats me to it. ‘Kate, what exactly do you want me to do?’
I stand there, wavering. I don’t know. I’ve absolutely no clue how to deal with any of this. Suddenly the stress and my exhaustion, my worries about Caro, about my conflict with Sandrine, about everything, completely overwhelm me.
‘I …’ My voice cracks. I burst into tears.
‘Kate, come here.’ Arne folds me into a hug, then reaches into his pocket to retrieve a packet of tissues.
I wipe my eyes, inhaling deeply, my breathing still ragged with emotion. He takes the tissue from my hand and dabs my cheek. Then, unexpectedly, leans in and kisses me.
Our lips touch briefly, only a second or two before I come to my senses and pull away.
‘Sorry,’ he mutters. ‘Inappropriate. It’s just that I’ve been wanting to do that for ages. And yeah, I get it, now is hardly the time.’
‘It’s fine.’ I sift through my confused emotions. How do I really feel about Arne? What does this mean?
‘Shit,’ he exclaims, turning away. ‘This place. It’s really fucking getting to me.’
I clear my throat. ‘It’s getting to all of us, Arne. Maybe Ark is right and this station is cursed.’
‘Listen.’ He turns back to me. ‘Forget that just happened, all right? I like you, that’s all. And I hate seeing you so upset.’ He sighs again. ‘I’ll email Kristin, get her to confirm when I left McMurdo – to put your mind at rest.’
‘Okay.’ I linger, undecided. What I really want him to do is pull me to him and kiss me again. Properly this time.
But I’m a doctor, a professional. I’ve already made one mistake with Drew, and can’t run the risk of another.
‘I’d better go.’ I hand him the rest of his tissues.
‘Yeah, I should finish up here too.’ He picks up his wrench, giving me a rueful smile as I walk away.
I take a different route back to Alpha, through the opposite end of the garage workshop, aiming for the door that leads into one of the smaller storerooms. It’s not until I approach a large industrial shelving unit housing spare vehicle parts that I spot the flash of silver on the ground, beside a heavy plastic box containing various ropes and chains.
I bend down and pick it up, holding the piece of metal to the light to see it more clearly. My stomach turns cold as I realise what I’m looking at – Alex’s activity band. Or rather, the electronic data recorder that sits at its centre, crushed almost beyond recognition.
What on earth is it doing here?
I glance behind me, but Arne is bent once again over the skidoo.
My heart begins to race. Did he see me?
I stuff the little piece of metal into my pocket, and get the hell out of there before he looks up.
32
5 July
Fuck.
I lock myself in the clinic, and study the little data unit in my hand, trying to sift through the implications. Could there be an innocent explanation for it being in the garage? Might Alex have lost it, somehow, before he went missing that night?
But that doesn’t make sense. There was no one in Beta on midwinter eve – we were all in the canteen and lounge.
Besides, where’s the plastic wrist strap that goes with it?
I examine the data recorder closely. It’s completely flattened – no way to tell whether deliberately or by accident. Could it have been run over by one of the vehicles? But there’s no room even for a quad bike in that storage area, and nobody could do this much damage by merely stepping on it.
But if someone did this deliberately, took a hammer to it maybe, why not simply dispose of it in one of the waste bins? Or bury it in the snow?
Why be so careless with such a vital piece of evidence?
I fight the urge to go back and confront Arne, remembering that kiss, the sensation of his hands on my neck as he tipped my face to his. I desperately want to believe he had nothing to do with Alex’s death, but how to explain this piece of metal in his workshop?
One positive. Even Sandrine can’t ignore this. I finally have something concrete to show her, some leverage to insist she contact UNA and ask for help.
But what kind of help? There’s no way onto this station and no way out – not for several months yet.
Whatever happens, we’ll have to deal with it ourselves.
I knock on Sandrine’s door, feeling unaccountably nervous, like a young intern facing a gruelling interview. I should have brought somebody as backup, but who can I trust now besides Caro? Half an hour ago, I might have included Arne on that list, but not any more.
I knock again, but there’s no answer. I put an ear to the door, wondering if Sandrine is on a video call on her computer – she and I have the only direct links to UNA on the base – but hear only silence. On impulse I try the handle and, to my surprise, the door swings open. Glancing up and down the corridor, I quickly slip inside.
I move fast, making straight for the key cupboard and removing the locker key. I’m about to leave when I spot the drawer in the nearby metal filing cabinet is ajar – clearly Sandrine left in a hurry.
Alert for the sound of anyone approaching, I open it up and scan the neat row of files. Thankfully UNA believes in hard copies as physical backups – presumably in case of power failure. There’s a folder for each member of the station.
I find Arne’s and pull it out, flicking through pages of interview notes and psychometric test results, looking for anything that might confirm when he worked at McMurdo.
Bingo. His résumé.
I’m quickly scanning through it when I hear a voice behind me.
‘Kate? What are you doing?’
I swing around to see Alice frowning at me. I gaze at her helplessly, trying to formulate a way to deny the obvious. ‘I … oh God, Alice, I can see this looks bad, but—’
‘But what, Kate?’ My stomach sinks as Sandrine appears beside her, expression morphing from
shock to fury.
Oh shit. I am completely fucked.
‘I’ll deal with this,’ Sandrine says curtly to Alice. ‘Can you alert a couple of the men? I saw Drew and Luuk in the lounge a few minutes ago.’
Alice nods and leaves, giving me a desperate look before closing the door behind her. Sandrine stares at me, not speaking. She glances from the file in my hands to the locker key beside me.
Make that double-fucked, I think. Why on earth did I take such a stupid risk?
But that’s easy to answer. Because I didn’t want to believe Arne is behind everything that’s been happening on the station – so much for not letting emotion cloud my judgement.
‘Sandrine, can we just talk?’ I try to keep a pleading tone from my voice. Putting the file down on her desk, I remove Alex’s activity monitor from my pocket. ‘I found this. I came here to show you and—’
‘And you decided to help yourself to my keys and confidential documents,’ Sandrine cuts in, spinning the file to read the label.
‘Just look,’ I insist, placing the data unit in front of her. ‘I found this in the garage workshop.’
Sandrine picks up the piece of crushed metal and examines it carefully. For a moment or two I feel hopeful that we can resolve this.
‘Where was it?’
‘Near one of the shelving units. I can show you the exact spot.’
‘No need.’ She puts it back on her desk.
‘It’s Alex’s activity monitor,’ I explain, thinking she’s missed the point.
‘I’m aware of what it is.’
‘So why do you think it’s been deliberately destroyed, Sandrine? Why is it in that workshop?’
She regards me coolly. ‘I’m not going to get into this with you again, Kate. We don’t even know it’s his.’
‘Of course we do,’ I splutter. ‘Check the data. Nobody else’s is missing.’
Sandrine says nothing.
‘Ask yourself why he would remove it, go to these lengths to destroy it, if he were suicidal? And why dump it there? Why not take it off and leave it in his cabin?’
More silence.
‘That’s not all,’ I continue, my frustration building. Why is this woman so intractable? ‘Somebody stole a dozen sleeping pills from my clinic, Sandrine. Sleeping pills. Think about that. Consider how they could be used to get someone outside without a struggle.’
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