I stare at him. ‘What do you mean?’
Tom’s eyes brim with tears. ‘It was me,’ he whispers. ‘I took the gun. Because I was scared. I kept hearing things … people outside my room … and then she … Sandrine …’ His voice breaks. ‘So I took the key when I found her, then got it from Beta.’
‘So you shot yourself?’ I frown at him. Was this some kind of botched suicide attempt?
‘Not exactly.’ Tom groans. ‘Someone came at me, out of the dark, and tried to snatch it away. The gun went off in the struggle.’
‘So you didn’t see who it was?’ Rajiv asks.
Tom shakes his head. ‘I dropped my torch. I couldn’t see a thing.’
‘Can’t you remember anything about them?’ Rajiv sounds frustrated, and scared. ‘Not even how he smelled? Didn’t he make a noise?’
Tom shrugs helplessly. ‘It was all too fast.’
‘Have you still got the gun?’ I ask.
He shakes his head again. ‘He was too strong.’
Everyone’s assuming it’s a man, I notice. But they’re almost certainly right. It’s impossible for this to be Caro or Sonya, and it seems unlikely any of it could be down to Alice.
At that moment she returns with the medical supplies, cheeks red with exertion, as if she ran all the way. She stares in horror at Tom’s leg while I grab the dressing and bind the wound tightly to stop the bleeding, then help him onto the couch.
‘Keep your leg still. I’ll give you something for the pain.’ I turn to Rajiv. ‘Is there any water?’
He fetches a bottle with an inch left at the bottom. Helping Tom into a sitting position, I get him to swallow the antibiotics while I prep the syringe. Slowly, carefully, I suck up some of the morphine, hands trembling with shock and a rush of longing for that beautiful clear liquid. It would be so easy, too easy, to pocket the rest and help myself while everyone is distracted.
Just a little. Just enough to smooth the edge from all this horror.
‘Here, take this.’ I hand Alice the morphine phial. ‘Remind me or Sonya to give him another dose in four hours.’
‘Is he okay?’ asks a voice behind me.
Arne.
I swing around. He looks out of breath, as if he’s been running too. ‘Yes,’ I tell him. ‘It’s only a flesh wound.’
He peers down at Tom, then turns back to me. ‘What did you do with the sat phone?’
‘It’s in the clinic.’
‘You’ve found the phone?’ Alice asks, her expression hopeful.
‘It’s not working.’ Arne rubs his head, eyes scanning the lounge. He seems distraught. Exhausted. ‘Christ, this is insane. We have to do something!’
‘Like what?’ Rajiv asks. ‘What can we do?’
We stand there in silence for a moment.
‘Get the others,’ I decide. ‘We need everybody here – except Sonya, who can stay with Caro. But everyone else. And find some more stoves.’
‘Why?’ asks Arne. ‘What’s your plan?’
I look him full in the face. ‘One of us did this. One of us attacked Tom, and killed Sandrine. Alex too. So we all stay in here, together.’
Arne, Alice, and Rajiv stare back at me.
‘It’s the only way,’ I insist. ‘The only way we can stay safe.’
‘But what about the gun?’ Rajiv sounds bewildered. ‘How will we be safe if one of us has a gun?’
‘We search one another,’ I say simply. ‘Then we just watch each other and wait.’
43
7 July
It’s an eerie scene. Nine of us in full outdoor gear, swaddled under duvets, trying to keep warm. Tom slumped on the sofa beside me, leg outstretched, his skin pale with shock. The air claggy with the smell of paraffin, as four little stoves struggle against the vicious cold seeping in through the outside walls and up through the floor.
No one is speaking, all of us stunned by recent events. Nor does anybody seem interested in the packets of biscuits, nuts, crisps, and trail mix Rajiv brought in from the storeroom, in an attempt to keep us all fed. I gaze around at our faces, hollow-eyed and ghastly in the dim yellow light of the kerosene lamps. We resemble the walking dead, I think gruesomely.
Ark’s monsters come to life.
But we’re no longer in immediate danger. Arne and Drew checked everyone as they entered the lounge, then Ark and Rob frisked them both in turn. Wherever the killer stashed that pistol, it’s not in here. I’ve searched every nook and cranny to make sure, even running my hand down the back of the chairs and sofas.
We’re safe – at least for now.
The silence deepens as we eye one another surreptitiously, each thinking exactly the same thing.
Which of us is the killer?
Who murdered Alex and Sandrine, and possibly Jean-Luc too? Who took that gun from Tom?
I study my fellow winterers one by one. Ark looks disgruntled, anxious to get back to his beloved generator, his outdoor jacket and trousers covered in grease stains. Alice, barely visible under her duvet, huddles on a sofa, features tense with anxiety and exhaustion – none of us has managed more than a few hours’ sleep in the last twenty-four. Next to her Rajiv looks wistful and sombre, as if he’d rather be anywhere but here.
On the opposite side of the room, Rob and Luuk nurse bottles of beer, defying my suggestion that we all keep a clear head. Luuk gives every appearance of being slightly bored by the whole situation, while Rob’s eyes dart around the room, never settling on anyone for more than a second.
Only Drew and Arne seem much like themselves – Arne gazing up at the ceiling, lost in thought, while Drew studies everyone as carefully as me, his expression blank as we briefly cross gazes.
Which one of you did this?
Think, Kate, I urge myself, as my mind starts to drift. What do you know? I try to work it through logically. I can safely rule out Alice, along with Caro and Sonya – none of them could have manhandled someone of Alex’s bulk out on the ice. Or, for that matter, overpowered Tom.
And the killer isn’t acting impulsively, I realise. This situation has been well thought out – whoever murdered Sandrine sabotaged the power either just before or afterwards, in an effort to distract us and prevent contact with UNA.
Nor does it seem the killer is doing this for kicks, otherwise Tom would be dead. Sandrine must have represented a threat in some manner – probably because she was about to expose him.
What else can I be sure of? I wrack my exhausted mind for answers. I know Luuk lied about the reason for being in Alex’s room. That both Alex’s activity monitor and the sat phone were found in the vicinity of Arne’s garage. That Sandrine confirmed Alex’s story about Jean-Luc’s suspicions, and the link with that woman’s death at McMurdo.
But, try as I might, I can’t make sense of it all. The facts don’t seem to bring me any closer to a definitive conclusion. And there’s no way at the moment I can get to the contents of that filing cabinet.
Not alone.
‘So what are we going to do?’ Drew breaks the uneasy silence. ‘Anyone gonna own up to this shit?’
‘Well, it’s not me,’ says Rob firmly, taking another swig of beer.
‘Nor me,’ adds Rajiv, while Alice and Luuk nod their heads in agreement.
Everyone looks around accusingly at each other, prompting Ark into a sudden bark of a laugh. ‘Who is killer raise hand,’ he demands, gazing about expectantly.
This is insane. Impossible to believe that whoever murdered Alex and Sandrine is just sitting here, calmly, pretending innocence.
Even the idea of it is sickening.
Unthinkable.
I close my eyes, considering my next move. Should I mention the connection with the death of Naomi Perez at McMurdo? Suggest several of us break into that filing cabinet together?
But that would mean dividing the group, exposing us all to danger. No way the murderer would simply stand by and wait for his identity to be revealed.
It’s not a risk I’m willing to
take.
‘Whoever did this, we can safely assume they aren’t about to admit it.’ Arne’s voice cuts through the simmering atmosphere of mutual suspicion. ‘So all we can do is stay safe until help arrives.’
‘What help?’ asks Rob. ‘It’s next to impossible to fly a plane out here under these conditions. Arne’s found the sat phone, but even if I can get it working, it won’t be much use. UNA will know by now that we’re in trouble – the problem is, there’s nothing they can do.’
‘Surely they’ll have to do something,’ wails Alice, close to tears again. ‘They’ll have to at least try.’
Drew shakes his head. ‘Flying in the middle of winter has almost never been attempted, in the whole history of Antarctica. So many things can go wrong – the huge distances, the constant darkness, the temperature – the fuel might freeze, or the plane itself – steel becomes very brittle in these temperatures and can break. Not to mention the weather, visibility, the altitude, the lack of a proper runway. Plus the pilots would need to refuel en route. And we’ve no runway lights, no way for them to make a safe landing.’
I mull this over. ‘Might they try though? Even if they can only get a small plane out here for Caro and the baby.’
A forlorn hope, I know, remembering the Russian doctor who had to remove his own appendix; the American physician who was forced to biopsy and treat her own breast cancer for months before she could be evacuated.
‘They might,’ Arne agrees, ‘but they would never risk it without contacting us first and finding out exactly what’s wrong.’
‘So we need a plan,’ I insist. ‘We have to assess the resources we’ve got, and how we can make them last until then.’
Rajiv nods. ‘Kate’s right. We should put our heads together.’
‘Food, water, heat – we need generators,’ Ark says sullenly. ‘I should be there fixing, not in here having nice chat.’
‘How long do you think it might take you?’ Drew asks him.
Ark shrugs. ‘Hard to say. Have to find way to mend cooling fan. Days, maybe week.’
‘Have we got enough kerosene to keep going that long?’ Rajiv asks. ‘It takes a lot of fuel simply to heat snow for water.’
Ark shakes his head. ‘Not enough.’
‘What about the diesel for the generators?’ Alice chips in. ‘Can’t we use that?’
‘Many problems,’ Ark says gloomily. ‘Diesel not evaporate like kerosene, is hard to burn and very dirty. Lots of bad chemicals. Plus there is problem of carbon dioxide – ventilation system no longer work without electricity. We need fresh air with open flame or else we die slowly.’
Shit. I think of Caro and the baby, still shut up in the clinic with two heaters blasting away. I didn’t consider that. All the more reason to get them out of there soon, I decide; one thing you can say about Gamma, it’s well ventilated.
A loud wail from the opposite sofa makes me start. ‘I just want to get home to my daughter,’ Alice sobs, collapsing onto Rajiv’s shoulder. ‘I don’t want to die in this place.’
‘You’re not going to die,’ says Arne calmly. ‘None of us are.’
‘So how are we going to survive, like this, for the rest of the winter?’ demands Rob. ‘Not to mention that someone has access to a gun and possibly intends to pick us off, one by one.’
‘We don’t know that,’ Rajiv snaps. ‘We’ve no idea what happened to Sandrine. We can’t even be sure she was murdered. And Tom isn’t dead, are you?’
All eyes settle on Tom. He blinks back without replying.
‘Besides, there’s no sense in killing all of us,’ Drew points out. ‘Murder everyone and you can’t go on the run, can you? You’d just have to wait for the police to fly in and arrest you.’
Tom clears his throat. ‘Unless you could make it look like an accident,’ he croaks. ‘And that you were the sole survivor. After all, there’d be nobody left to contradict you, and plenty of time to destroy any evidence to the contrary.’
Everyone falls silent as they absorb the impact of Tom’s words. Jesus, is that the killer’s end game? His ‘get out of jail free’ card?
Murder all of us, then proceed with a leisurely cover-up?
‘That’s not going to happen,’ I say firmly, pulling the duvet more tightly around me. ‘And in the meantime, we have to prioritise keeping safe and warm until UNA can find a way to intervene. I suggest we make a list of what we need to do, and that we operate in groups of three – no one left on their own, for obvious reasons.’
‘And who made you de facto leader?’ Luuk finally finds his voice, throwing me a challenging look. ‘Why all of a sudden are you giving the orders? Seems to me it wasn’t long ago you were confined to your room for breaching pretty much every rule on the base.’
‘Luuk, I’ve no desire to be the one in charge – by all means—’
‘Come to think of it,’ he cuts in. ‘Most of this kicked off when you arrived. Ever since you got here there’s been nothing but trouble. You stirred things up with Alex, then you came after me—’
‘That’s not what happened,’ I reply indignantly. ‘I simply tried to talk to Alex – and to you, for that matter.’
‘Felt more like a fucking interrogation from my end,’ glowers Luuk.
‘Back off.’ Drew gets to his feet, but I hold up a hand to stop him. I take a deep breath, hesitating.
Gloves off, I decide. ‘I simply asked you, Luuk, why you were in Alex’s cabin right before he died.’
An audible intake of breath from several people in the room. Alice’s eyes widen in Luuk’s direction.
‘And I told you why.’ Luuk glares back at me.
I hold my nerve. ‘And that was a lie, Luuk. You said you went to borrow Alex’s vape pen, but Alex never owned one – not according to Caro.’
He stares at me, open-mouthed. Clearly blindsided by my accusation.
‘What the fuck, Luuk?’ Arne turns to him. ‘What were you doing in there?’
Luuk swallows. I watch him desperately trying to decide what to say next. ‘Okay, I lied,’ he admits. ‘That wasn’t the real reason I was there.’
‘So what was the real reason?’ Drew demands.
All eyes fix on Luuk, who visibly squirms under the scrutiny. Probably wishing he hadn’t started this. ‘Some of my stash went missing – Alex was one of the few people who knew where I hid it. I thought I’d take the opportunity to speak to him.’
‘Your drugs, you mean?’ Alice says.
Luuk ignores her.
‘So what did Alex say?’ I ask.
‘Nothing,’ Luuk shrugs. ‘Like I told you before, he was totally out of it. I could barely get a word out of him. So I had a quick look around his room, then left.’
I study him. Is Luuk telling the truth this time? Impossible to tell. ‘When were you at McMurdo?’ I ask instead.
He turns and frowns at me. ‘What the hell kind of a question is that?’
‘A simple one, Luuk. With a simple answer.’ I can see Arne watching me out of the corner of his eye; he knows, of course, exactly why I’m asking.
Luuk snorts. ‘Christ, you’re a prize bitch, aren’t you? No wonder Sandrine didn’t trust you – and now she’s dead. Bit of a coincidence, that, isn’t it?’
Before I can say anything in my defence, Arne leaps up. Bounding over to Luuk’s chair, he drags him upright by the collar of his jacket. ‘What the fuck do you mean by that?’ he yells in his face, shaking him.
Alice gives a yelp of alarm as the two men start to struggle, Luuk managing to free himself from Arne’s grasp and aim a punch at his head. Arne retaliates by hitting him in the jaw, then kicking his legs out from under him. As Luuk stumbles and falls, he catches one of the stoves, bringing it crashing to the floor.
‘Chyort!’ yells Ark, as kerosene spills onto the carpet, a rivulet of flame in its wake. He scrambles to his feet and rights the stove, grabbing the nearest duvet to smother the flames. All the while uttering a steady stream of Russian invective that
needs no translation.
‘Fucking morons,’ he shouts at Luuk and Arne once he’s extinguished the fire. ‘You want to burn whole station? Finish us fast?’
Arne looks abashed. He lifts both hands in a gesture of apology. ‘Sorry. You’re right. All this is just getting to me.’
But Luuk is having none of it. ‘Screw you all,’ he says, picking himself off the floor and rubbing his jaw. ‘I’m not taking any more of this shit. I’m going to look for that fucking gun.’ He picks up one of the spare torches and slams out of the room.
Moments later, Drew gets up and follows him.
My stomach churns in a spiral of panic as the rest of us stare after them. This is all going wrong, I think. Horribly, horribly wrong.
Only one thing is clear – none of us is safe on this station.
44
7 July
‘You have any idea how to drive one of these?’ Sonya asks, as I examine the nearest skidoo.
I shake my head.
‘I’ll do it,’ murmurs Caro, voice groggy. She’s dressed in outdoor gear, the waist of her down-filled trousers widened with string to allow for her injured stomach and the dressings on her wound. The baby is tucked deep inside her jacket, supported by a makeshift sling Sonya fashioned out of a sheet. I’m praying they’ll both stay warm enough for the journey to Gamma.
‘You’re in no condition to drive,’ I say. ‘Doctor’s orders.’
Caro’s face twitches with pain as we help her onto the passenger seat, draping her in a duvet for extra warmth. With all the food and medical supplies, it’s clear there’s no room for anyone else.
‘You should take her,’ I say to Sonya.
‘No.’ She shakes her head vigorously. ‘Caro needs you more. If something were to happen, I wouldn’t know what to do.’
I hesitate. She’s right. Caro is far from out of the woods, even without the stress of the transfer to the summer camp. But I’m still not happy about leaving Sonya here, and all the other snowmobiles are out on the ice, probably by the emergency generator hut.
‘Go,’ she urges. ‘I’ll follow as soon as I can find a spare skidoo.’
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