It took Matthew only a few minutes to fetch the keys to the boat and his mobile from his flat, then lock his door so that he could make his way to Else’s. He couldn’t be bothered to wait for the lift, so he ran down the two flights of stairs and continued swiftly out of the glass door.
‘Hello?’
Matthew turned towards the voice. It was coming from the blue terraced houses across the narrow road from his apartment block. He couldn’t see anyone over there. The building had been condemned because of mould and there was no light under the slanted half roof which spanned the whole building and the eleven front doors that led to the empty houses.
‘Hello?’ the voice called out again. ‘Matthew?’
Matthew took a step backwards and narrowed his eyes. Was there someone across the road?
‘Are you Matthew Cave?’
‘Yes,’ Matthew said. The voice from the darkness was deep. A powerful male voice. ‘I’m afraid I haven’t got time to talk right now,’ Matthew said. ‘Why do you want to know?’
‘Come over here,’ the man said.
‘No, now is not a good time,’ Matthew said apologetically. ‘I really have to go…Family emergency.’
‘Yes,’ the man said quickly. ‘It’s about your sister.’
‘My sister?’ Matthew took a step forward. ‘What do you know about my sister? Come out so I can see you.’
‘No,’ the man said. ‘You come over here or I’ll drive off.’
Matthew exhaled slowly. ‘I’m not sure I feel like doing that.’
‘All right, then, I’m off.’
‘Wait!’ Matthew walked alongside the ditch next to the road and jumped across it. He kept looking at the figure in the darkness under the half roof. All he could see was the man’s legs.
‘Who are you?’ Matthew said when he was only a short distance from the gallery that ran along the building.
‘I’m Olí.’
Matthew stopped and tried looking under the half roof. ‘What do you know about Arnaq?’
‘Arnaq?’ the voice echoed.
‘My sister,’ Matthew said, starting to lose patience. He took a step in the direction of the voice.
At that moment the figure threw a handful of sand in Matthew’s face, blinding him.
Startled, Matthew stumbled backwards. The big man grabbed Matthew’s wrist and twisted his arm behind his back, while another big hand clamped itself across his mouth. Matthew could taste salty skin and tried fighting back with his free arm. He screamed behind the hand as his other arm was pressed so hard into his back that he thought it would dislocate. Saliva from his mouth was smeared against the rough hand now gripping him so violently that his cheeks were squashed against his teeth.
‘We need him alive,’ the man mumbled to himself as he brusquely pushed Matthew towards a car. ‘Alive…I get it.’
The man continued to mumble as he forced Matthew to lie down on the gravel in front of the car. He removed his hand from Matthew’s mouth and shoved a gag so hard down Matthew’s throat that he nearly threw up. Then he pulled Matthew back up to standing and slipped a sack over his head. Matthew could feel the sack being tied tightly around his neck, and the next moment he was bundled onto the back seat of the car.
The man had got into the driver’s seat and started the car immediately. Matthew tried to breathe through his nose, but it was filled with snot and the gag blocked his mouth. He snorted and felt snot pouring down his face as he dragged air into his lungs.
The car rounded a corner and Matthew fell onto his side. He tried to brace his fall, but he couldn’t get hold of anything and had practically ended up at the bottom of the car when he received a strong blow to his ribs.
‘Sit still,’ the man ordered him from the front.
He hit him again, but merely brushed him this time. The man couldn’t reach very far back and Matthew had managed to get himself back onto the seat and to push himself against the door furthest away from the driver. Air hissed in and out through his half-blocked nostrils. The window felt cold against the sack. He tried digging around his mouth with his fingers to get a hold of the fabric, but the sack was too tight for him to grip anything.
He could hear the big man grunt in the front. At times he could make out words; other times it was mostly sounds. The word ‘alive’ was repeated. As was the word ‘kill’.
Matthew squashed his face up against the window in the hope that someone might see him. He also pressed the palms of his hands against the cold glass. He forced snot out of his nostrils a second time, trying to breathe. The snot mixed with the sweat running down his face.
The engine stopped and Matthew heard the man get out of the car and slam the door shut behind him. He shook his head and tried to hear what was going on. Soon afterwards his own door was opened so brusquely that Matthew nearly tumbled out. Big hands grabbed his arms and yanked him out of the seat. His arms and shoulders hurt and he tried to scream, but not a single sound made it past the cloth. He buckled in a coughing fit and fell onto the ground. He couldn’t breathe and was aware that he was close to blacking out. Sweat was pouring down his back and chest. He flailed his arms about him and tore at the hood. He shook his head. He snorted again, but could no longer unblock his nostrils.
Pain shot through his arm as a heavy foot trod on it. ‘Lie still,’ the man sneered angrily.
Matthew was aware of the string being loosened, the hood pulled off his head and the fabric gag yanked out of his mouth. He rolled onto his side and coughed violently into the gravel. Gasped for air and then spluttered again. His clothes stuck to his body and he could taste his own mucus.
Matthew looked up at the man. He was about two metres tall, but his face was concealed behind a tight-fitting black balaclava. Only his eyes were visible, and they were difficult to make out in the darkness. The man started walking towards the sea.
‘Where’s my sister?’ Matthew shouted, trying to get to his feet. His arm was twitching with pain.
The man turned and looked at Matthew. ‘You’re coming with me.’
‘What? Where?’
The man merely heaved a sigh and carried on walking.
Matthew’s fingers clawed at the gravel and he got hold of a broad, sharp stone. The moment the man came back and bent down over him in order to pull him up, he smashed the stone into the man’s face as hard as he could. He only managed to hit the back of his head, but it was enough.
The man roared as he took a step backwards and clutched his head. ‘Alive,’ he snarled. ‘Alive.’
Matthew got up, reaching the car in a few strides and jumping into the driver’s side. He quickly locked the car, then fumbled for the key. There it was. The man had run up to the car as well and was pulling at the door so forcefully that the chassis wobbled. Matthew screamed, put the car in reverse and hit the accelerator. He couldn’t see much behind him, but he knew that the gravel road which led up to the main road was straight and wide.
The big man chased the car. Matthew looked at him through the windscreen. He seemed clumsy and slow.
Matthew eased his foot off the accelerator and reversed onto the main road. The big man had just about caught up with the car by the time Matthew slammed the car into gear and accelerated past the man towards the town.
Just before the Nuussuaq roundabout he pulled over on the wide road and took out his mobile.
Where are you now? he texted Ottesen, before picking up the thread from Tupaarnaq: I was attacked. Need to talk to Ottesen. I’ll meet you later at Else’s.
22
‘The car belongs to Apollo,’ Ottesen said. ‘Only he wasn’t your driver because Apollo isn’t that tall, and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t drive around attacking people or their sisters.’
‘So the car was stolen?’
‘Definitely…I’ll call Apollo so that he can get it back.’ Ottesen paused. ‘Lots of people leave their keys in the ignition round here. After all, there are no roads leading out of Nuuk, so if a car gets nicked it usually turn
s up pretty quickly.’
‘Shit,’ Matthew said and turned to Ottesen, who looked like he was starting to get cold in his tight-fitting, pale green running clothes. Matthew’s gaze continued to the low, dark brown wooden building which housed Nuuk’s police station. ‘Will you carry out forensic tests and all that?’
‘Yes, of course. Apollo won’t get his car back until we’ve been through it.’
‘I thought I was going to die,’ Matthew said, more quietly now. ‘He was so strong…incredibly strong.’
‘And you didn’t catch a glimpse of his face?’
‘No, but like I said, he was two metres tall and very strong, and he wore clog boots and spoke with an accent…He can’t be that hard to find.’ Matthew looked at Ottesen. ‘He said his name was Olí—there can’t be many of those about.’
‘I’ve lived here for almost forty years,’ Ottesen said. ‘And I don’t remember ever meeting a single person called Olí, but then again, I’m willing to bet you a lot of money that his real name isn’t Olí or that he lives in Nuuk…There was probably a reason he wanted to put you on a boat.’
‘I think he’s Faroese,’ Matthew said.
Ottesen nodded. ‘He might well be…The only Faroese that tall that I know of is the guy who lives out by the old Polaroil bunker point across the fjord from Færingehavn, but his name is Bárdur.’
‘We need to talk to him,’ Matthew said. ‘Is it close to Færingehavn?’
‘Yes, by boat, but not by land. The fjord is deep and it would take you several days to walk from Polaroil to Færingehavn across the mountains.’ Ottesen shook his head. ‘Bárdur tends to keep to himself, but we need to have a chat to him about all of this…I’m sure he knows which boats go in and out of there.’ Ottesen patted the roof of the car. ‘We’ve already had officers out there, Matt, and they didn’t find anything on his side of the fjord.’
‘But it’s true that you found blood in the big grey house in Færingehavn?’
‘We don’t know if it’s human blood yet.’
Matthew covered his eyes with his hand, then let it slide in front of his mouth. ‘I was out there…I could have brought them home.’
At that moment one of Nuuk Police’s dark blue SUVs pulled up and stopped alongside the stolen car.
‘Nothing,’ Rakel said the moment she opened the door of the SUV.
‘Did you check the houses across from my flat and the area behind the public swimming pool?’
Rakel raised her eyebrows apologetically as she nodded. ‘There was nothing…Sorry.’
‘It’s all right.’ Ottesen bent down and greeted the other officer in the SUV. ‘Hello, Frederik.’ Then he straightened up again. ‘Can you please go and see Apollo and ask him what he has been doing today, seeing as he hasn’t noticed that his car is missing?’
Rakel nodded and pulled the door shut.
Ottesen placed his hand on Matthew’s shoulder. ‘We have two other patrol cars out looking for a two-metre-tall Faroese man.’
‘I know…Shit. I’ve got a really bad feeling about my sister and her friends.’ Matthew hesitated for a moment. ‘That night Tupaarnaq and I were attacked in Færingehavn it was also by some giant, but I saw even less then than I did just now because it was so bloody dark. But we were attacked in the same house. Arrgghh…I should have brought them home.’
‘Apart from that one day when the two of you headed out there, nothing ever happens in Færingehavn,’ Ottesen said. He shook his head. ‘It makes no sense for someone to sail out there in order to…’
Matthew looked at Ottesen. ‘How much blood was there?’
Ottesen shrugged. ‘A little blood always goes a long way, Matt.’
‘I really want to meet that Bárdur guy,’ Matthew said, looking down. ‘Preferably now.’
‘That’s a job for the police, my friend.’
‘But she’s my sister! She could be dead…’ His voice ebbed out. His fingers fumbled for the pocket with the wedding ring. He felt its roundness through the fabric and pressed his fingers against it.
‘Matt…’ Ottesen hesitated. ‘There’s another matter I need to ask you about. We’ve been contacted by an American officer.’
‘And?’
‘He says that the US military is thinking about resuming its search for a marine who deserted and vanished without a trace in 1990. It was the name of the marine that made me think of you. Tom Roger Cave. Do you know him? After all, you told me your father was American.’
‘That’s my father,’ Matthew said. The thoughts jumped around his head. Briggs must have had the case reopened.
‘Are you in contact with him?’ Ottesen said.
Matthew shook his head. ‘I haven’t seen him since I was barely four years old, but in the meantime he had Arnaq, so he must have lived in Nuuk once.’
‘Exactly,’ Ottesen said. ‘Except he never registered here officially. He lived off the grid, as they say. And that was pretty much all we could tell the Americans.’
Matthew looked up at the black night sky. The air was cold, the temperature just below zero.
‘Did you know that he shot two men before he went AWOL?’ Ottesen said. ‘Your father, I mean.’
‘Yes,’ Matthew said.
‘So when you asked about the case in Jakob’s house, you already knew that it was about your own father?’
‘I had only just found out.’
Ottesen squatted down on his haunches and rocked back and forth to stretch his muscles. ‘It was pretty violent, the way it was told to me…that business in Thule. The American officer warned us to approach your father with caution—should we find him, that is.’
‘The case is similar to the one with the dead men in Ittoqqortoormiit,’ Matthew said. His gaze ranged over the Katuaq Art Centre on the far side of the square between the police station and the government building. ‘In my opinion it’s hard to tell who shot who.’
‘Oh, the American officer seemed pretty clear,’ Ottesen said. ‘Your father shot the other men…Besides, they were shot with your father’s pistol, and both that pistol and your father have been missing since the killings.’
‘Maybe,’ Matthew said, throwing up his hands. ‘I don’t know, okay…’
‘No, no…Of course not.’ Ottesen stood up again. ‘It’s fine…I’ve had the survivor from Ittoqqortoormiit arrested.’
‘Nukannguaq?’
‘Yes, that’s him…We’ve put an officer by his bed while we wait for the technical evidence.’
Matthew’s mobile started buzzing in his pocket; seconds later Ottesen’s mobile rang inside his waist pack.
Matthew pulled out his mobile. It was Tupaarnaq. She was calling from Else’s flat.
Ottesen had already rung off.
‘Jakob has been killed!’ Matthew said, looking blankly at Ottesen.
‘Come with me,’ Ottesen said. ‘I’m driving over there right now.’
23
The light in Jakob’s living room stood in stark contrast to the darkness and the cold outside.
Matthew followed Ottesen inside, but stopped when Ottesen stuck out his arm behind him.
‘Probably best if you stay here, Matt,’ he said. ‘Me stomping about in here in my running clothes is bad enough.’
‘Hi, Matt.’
Matthew was surprised to find Rakel here. She held out a pair of blue plastic shoe covers to him.
She smiled slightly, but her eyes were sad. ‘We hadn’t even reached Apollo when—’
‘What happened?’ Matthew said.
Rakel withdrew her hand with the plastic shoe covers, as Matthew didn’t seem to notice them. ‘You’d better stay out in the hall.’
She walked around Matthew and joined Ottesen. Three other officers were present. All in uniform.
Jakob was sitting in the middle of the room in his old armchair. He was wearing his threadbare brown cords and a blue shirt. He was leaning to one side and it looked as if he had tried to get up to defend himself. The top button of h
is shirt had been torn loose and his shirt was pulled up on one side. His head lolled against his chest.
‘Why don’t you come outside?’
Matthew hadn’t realised that Rakel had come back to him. She looked just as rattled as he felt.
‘It will do you good,’ she added.
His gaze jumped back to Jakob. His shirt had been slashed by a knife, which had been plunged into his lower abdomen and then pulled upwards, as if the killer had attempted to gut Jakob from his groin to his chest. He looked like Lyberth on Tupaarnaq’s floor two months ago, and the dead men from the 1973 case. Except here the knife had only cut a hole in Jakob’s abdomen rather than opened him all the way up. Matthew could see a little of Jakob’s intestines in the wound; on the floor by the side of the armchair was a puddle of something that very much resembled vomit.
Rakel grabbed Matthew’s arm. ‘Come on, Matt, it’s time we left.’
The air outside felt simultaneously damp and cold. Police cars, ambulances and fire engines were parked along the road. They had a habit of all turning up regardless of the nature of the emergency because their pay was based purely on the number of callouts. The blue lights disturbed the darkness. There were many voices.
‘Why don’t you come for a walk with me?’ Rakel said. ‘Let’s get away from all the noise here.’
Matthew nodded and they started walking down the street. Around them lay lots of wooden houses, which in daylight added colour to the area of Myggedalen.
They turned down Stephen Møllerip Aqqutaa and Matthew looked across to the small pond which had been dug back in colonial times.
‘Do you think Abelsen did it?’ Rakel said. ‘I mean…with the knife?’
‘No,’ Matthew said quietly, but then he shook his head. ‘Was that vomit on the floor?’
‘Yes, somebody threw up right next to…the deceased.’
‘Could it have been Jakob himself?’ Matthew’s voice failed him. ‘Because of the pain?’
‘I don’t think so…it’s in the wrong place, if it was him.’
‘So you think it’s the killer’s?’
Cold Fear Page 10