White Night

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White Night Page 22

by J J Marsh


  Secondly, to you. My gratitude may sound strange since your actions precipitated the end of my marriage. However, what you and Astrid proved, I had long suspected. Confronted with the evidence, my primary emotion is relief at no longer having to pretend.

  The Neljä plant at Kolkko opens tomorrow and everything will go as planned. On Monday, I will begin two separate divorce proceedings. The first from my faithless, alcoholic husband. The second is to divest myself of another partnership gone sour – my working relationship with Ville Ikonen.

  I cannot imagine you keep up with Finnish news, so let me summarise. The false news report resulted in the termination of Päivi Aho’s employment. Aggrieved, she made allegations about the influence of the paper’s owner. Channel 6 is owned by a media company which after a legal demand for information, transpired to be a subsidiary of Scanski Solutions. Nothing has been proven but I believe Ville Ikonen has been using the TV news as his own personal mouthpiece to manipulate public opinion.

  On that note, there is overwhelming sympathy for the two rescued teenagers, but a great deal of anger at their culpable colleagues. When Valpuri and Samu are fully recovered, I intend to invite them and their families to the plant. Along with any other environmentalists who will bring an open mind. If they still believe what we are doing is wrong in face of scientific facts, we will politely agree to disagree. There is an irony in that the cave where they were found contains radon gas in the bedrock. The anti-nuclear protestors hid two of their members in a place which exposed them to high levels of radiation.

  I am sorry to say the other four leaders of the Gaia Warriors will face trial. On speaking with Detective Sahlberg, I have decided to finance the defence team for the younger two.

  Sahlberg also informed me that he intends to charge the man arrested at the hospital with Juppo Seppä’s murder. His name is Karl Marin, well-known to German police as muscle-for-hire, happy to provoke violence at football matches, protest marches and so on. Sahlberg suspects him of vigilante justice and has a witness ready to testify against him. The Helsinki police force want to know who paid him to dispose of Seppä. The aim of charging him with murder is less to achieve a guilty verdict, but to flush out his employer. I have my own suspicions – see above. Let’s hope it works.

  Thank you once again for all you have done and I wish you every success in your future career.

  With best wishes

  Karoliina Nurmi

  Saturday’s weather was perfect for a midsummer wedding. A party of twenty attended the registry office to witness Gabriel and Tanya exchange their vows. Luke discharged his duties without a fault, bringing a lump to Beatrice’s throat. She would not allow herself to cry, though. That was Pam’s prerogative. Everyone exclaimed over the beauty of Tanya’s dress. The designer herself wore a buttermilk-coloured dirndl sprigged with wildflowers. Catinca’s hair was plaited around her head and her Converse trainers were meadow green, a contemporary take on a Swiss milkmaid.

  On entering the marquee on the village green for the reception, Beatrice was charmed to see the remainder of the guests had taken the natural theme to heart. Anyone looking into the tent, and there were plenty of curious glances as villagers crossed from one side to another, would see the whole spectrum of rainbow colours with an emphasis on the verdant. The wedding ‘breakfast’ was a variation on ploughman’s lunch with fruit, salad, pickles and cheese. The simplicity was refreshing and made for some excellent photographs. Matthew made a short but touching speech, only prompted twice by Will when he forgot his lines. Luke’s speech was not much longer but it was funny, moving and delivered with feeling. Adrian nudged Beatrice, both blinking away tears as they applauded wildly.

  The cake was a surprise. That was the one item where Tanya had given her mother free rein, so Beatrice was expecting something classic, ornate and rococo. So she joined in the oohs and aahs when Susie from The Angel carried it into the marquee. The plate bore a woodland scene, with a ‘tree stump’ at the centre. Around it were ferns, leaves and flowers and on the top, ladybirds, butterflies and bees. As Susie passed, she spotted a heart ‘carved’ into the tree’s bark, with the letters T & G inside. It was charming, thoughtful and so pretty it seemed a pity to cut it up. Everyone wanted photographs of the happy couple posing by their bespoke confection before they began dismantling it to share between their guests.

  Another toast meant more Prosecco, in which Beatrice happily partook. Guests began to move around the marquee, so she got up from her place and went in search of Theo. She’d hardly seen him all day. She found him trying to explain why he wasn’t going to dance to three of the bridesmaids.

  “Leave the man in peace. He’s had a tough week. Look, see Adrian over there? Go and ask him. He’s a terrific dancer, as is his husband. I need a word with Theo on important professional business.” She sat in one of the recently vacated seats and watched as the young women persuaded Adrian onto the dance floor in seconds.

  “You’re not wrong. He’s quite a mover,” Theo observed. “Never seen him dance before.”

  “I don’t suppose there was much opportunity when you were working at his wine bar. Have you had a good day?”

  Theo gazed around the marquee with a contented smile. “I love weddings. This was one of the best. What about that cake?”

  “Wasn’t it brilliant? I must compliment Pam on such a fitting concept. Are you completely exhausted or do you fancy wandering over to the pub for a quiet chat? I really do want to talk business for five minutes and I have something for you.”

  They slunk away from the dancers and across the green to The Angel. Theo was still limping from the damage to his hamstring, so Beatrice parked him at a table outside and went in to get the drinks.

  “Here you are. G&T with ice and lemon. This is a lovely time of day. Warm and dozy without the heat of midday. I heard from Karoliina last night.”

  “Oh yeah? Any news?”

  Beatrice relayed the content of the email, keeping her voice low enough so other tables could not overhear. Then she opened her bag and withdrew an envelope.

  “She also paid us extra. Me for exposing her husband and you for that heroic rescue.”

  Theo didn’t take the envelope. Beatrice peered into his face.

  “Theo?”

  He looked down at his glass, stirring the twizzle stick, his plaits screening his face from view. “I can’t take it. Not the cash, not the praise, none of it. I don’t deserve any gratitude. This is not ‘oh anyone would have done the same’ modesty shtick. I mean it. I don’t deserve it.”

  Confused by his apparent embarrassment, Beatrice asked, “Why not?”

  He took a long time to answer. Beatrice sipped her gin, and soaked in the idyllic setting of late afternoon sun bathing the village in golden light.

  “You ever feel like there are two of you?” asked Theo, his voice quiet. He met her eyes. “There’s you-on-a-good-day, who wants to do the right thing. That you who ran into the traffic to save an old geezer from being flattened by a bus. Who said no to a relationship because you don’t want to hurt someone. Who climbed into a cave during a storm to stop some kids from drowning. That you is the person you really want to be.”

  He removed the twizzle stick and took a long draught of his drink. “Then there’s another you. The lazy, selfish cynic who says ‘what’s the point?’ That voice inside telling you the old geezer will be dead soon anyway, to take your kicks where you can and bollocks to her broken heart. That voice told me to leave them down there and get out.”

  Beatrice placed her hand on his. “The point is, you didn’t listen. You ignored the voice and rescued them. You picked the right fork in the road.”

  He shook his head with such vehemence his beads clicked against one another. “I made a choice. Aleksis didn’t respond to my torch signal. I thought he’d gone or given up or something. So I left Samu there and took Valpuri. I chose her, not him. When the winch started to work, I was well up the ladder. I abandoned him, Beatrice. I left h
im to drown.” He pulled his hand away and placed it over his eyes.

  She gave him a moment. “I’m not going to argue with you. You made a horrible choice under impossible conditions. The thing is, they both survived and that is thanks to you. It is!” she insisted as his head shook again, this time more slowly. “You put him in that sling thingy, you carried her up the ladder, you showed Aleksis what to do. You didn’t listen to the voice. And to answer your question, yes, I do feel like there are two of me.”

  He removed his hand from his eyes and cradled his chin between finger and thumb to listen, his brown eyes illuminated by the sinking sun.

  “Some time back, when I was still a detective with the Met, I did a job in Germany. That’s where I encountered the expression ‘Innerer Schweinehund’. It means inner pigdog, the negative part of you that focuses on the worst case scenario, that whispers poisonous thoughts of jealousy, fans flames of anger, convinces you that it’s all hopeless. Those vile beasts are awfully fond of the phrase: what’s the point? It takes a lot of effort to fight them. Some of us find ourselves unequal to the task, requiring reinforcements.”

  His gaze searched her face and she did not flinch. “Yeah, that makes some sense. I used to see it as the black side of me.”

  “It may be late in the day to bring this up but ...”

  Theo snorted but the sound was devoid of humour. “Good point. Poor use of language. What I want to say is that I have a selfish part, seeking reasons to disengage, take no responsibility. Keep out of it, mate, not your problem. Know what I mean? My conscience goes over and over that moment. What if Aleksis hadn’t managed to get the minibus moving? Samu would ...”

  “But Aleksis did and Samu didn’t. Listen to me, Theo, you cannot put yourself through the guilt and self-recrimination you might have felt had things been different. That’s a common feature of PTSD. Which is why you are taking next week off to recuperate. Don’t interrupt me! Look at the facts. Neither Samu nor Valpuri would be here now if it weren’t for you. Now I appreciate you don’t want to wear the hero’s mantle, but I insist you take the cash. Otherwise I will keep it and blow the lot on having my hair done.”

  A reluctant smile lifted his cheeks. “Catinca thinks you should.”

  “I know. The wretched creature wants me to have another of those blond shiny dos and I flatly refuse. The natural look works for me. Do you fancy another or should we head back to the party? I promise to protect you from those predatory bridesmaids.”

  They got up from the pub bench and Theo tucked the envelope into his jacket. “Thank you. For this and for letting me bend your ear. As bosses go, you’re solid gold.”

  “Don’t tell Adrian that, he’s fiercely competitive. Ooh, it sounds like the ceilidh’s starting. I love a Scottish reel.”

  They linked arms and wandered back across the village green to join the party.

  Chapter 42

  The beach glittered and shone after last night’s rain. Helvi always took her walk when it grew light and in summer, that was anytime she wanted. She trod carefully across the stones, watching for flotsam and jetsam of interest, saving her appreciation of the horizon till she reached the shore. Otso was still sniffing and scratching at a rock pool, tail wagging and ears alert. She hoped he had learned his lesson from the last time he bothered a crab.

  The sea rolled in, a deep blue tinged with pink from the reflection of the sky. Foam bubbled and fizzled out as each ripple reached the beach. Helvi paused, raising her face to the horizon and filling her lungs. A bark made her look over her shoulder. Two seagulls soared gracefully into the air, leaving Otso far behind. The silly young Spitz continued to bark, his curly tail in constant motion.

  “Otso!” called Helvi, trying to preserve the peace of the morning. The dog scrambled across the pebbles, his tongue lolling and white teeth visible.

  “Come here and shh. This is our quiet time.” The dog stared up at her with such eagerness, she could not resist. A piece of driftwood lay a few paces away. She reached for it, stroking the sea-softened contours with her fingertips. Otso barked and barked and reversed along the beach. Helvi hurled the log as far as her muscles could manage and the excitable Spitz took off in pursuit.

  Helvi laughed at his triumphant return, log between his jaws. Her peaceful morning rituals were considerably less calm since adopting this noisy bundle of gingery fur. She stared out at the horizon, setting her mood for the day. Sea air penetrated her whole being and she said her thank yous to the planet as she absorbed its bounty.

  Three throws later, she called Otso to heel so they could return to her beach house. They were almost at her garden path when Helvi looked down and saw Otso had discarded the driftwood in preference for a plastic bottle. She took it from his mouth and carried it inside. A water bottle, cap still on with some rubbish stuffed inside. A sound of disgust escaped her as she poured some kibble for Otso.

  Throwing plastic into the sea? Finns were supposed to have the highest environmental awareness in the whole of Europe. She placed the bottle in the recycling bin and washed her hands while shaking her head.

  Kids these days.

  Message from JJ Marsh

  I hope you enjoyed WHITE NIGHT, Beatrice and Theo’s Finnish case. To let you into a secret, the story didn’t stop there. Another adventure was banging at the door impatient to come out. So immediately after I’d finished this book, I began on the next, which starts two days after WHITE NIGHT ends. Tanya and Gabriel are on honeymoon in Mallorca when events take a strange turn. Here’s the first chapter. THE WOMAN IN THE FRAME will be published in July 2020.

  The Woman in the Frame

  By JJ Marsh

  Chapter 1

  It was a strange sensation to put on shoes after two days of going barefoot. She decided against applying make-up because it reminded her of the usual dreary routine at home. Instead, she slicked Vaseline over her eyebrows and on her lips. Her husband was a big fan of the natural look. Facing herself in the mirror, she could see why. Her skin glowed, her eyes shone and her hair seemed grateful for a rest from daily blow dries.

  Tanya put on a petrol-coloured cotton maxi dress and added the silver earrings Gabriel had bought her that morning in Port de Sóller. She was ready to meet their hosts and prepared to be on her best behaviour. With a last spray of scent, she wandered out onto the veranda where the man of her dreams was waiting, one ankle crossed over his knee, gazing out at the extraordinary view of sandstone buildings descending in circles down the hill. On the table sat two glasses of Aperol spritz, the orangey liquid the colour of a Caribbean sunset.

  On hearing her footsteps, he looked over his shoulder with a smile. Her heart swelled and she wondered if she would ever get used to living with a man overjoyed by her mere existence.

  “You look lovely,” he said. “Then again, you always do.”

  “Thanks. I didn’t want to overdo it, you know. I packed a proper evening dress and high heels, but it feels inappropriate for a casual dinner with bohemian artists. The thing is, I’m a tiny bit nervous. Maybe a drink would help. When do we have to leave?”

  He passed her aperitif across the table and reached out to take her hand. “When we’re ready. It’s around a twenty-minute walk to their place, I reckon. They said to turn up any time after eight. Relax, it’ll be just like having dinner with my mum. They’re a pair of arty old hippies, so absolutely no reason to be nervous.”

  She sank into the chair and picked up a glass, asking herself what she had done to deserve such luck. “Your mum is not a celebrated artist who can flog her latest creation for a seven-figure sum. Which is one of the many reasons I adore her.”

  They drank in comfortable silence, listening to the cicadas’ natural accompaniment to the evening symphony of birdsong. At ten to eight, Gabriel took the empty glasses into the kitchen, picked up the bottle of wine they had bought as a gift and took Tanya’s hand.

  The walk took under twenty minutes, despite Tanya dragging her heels to gaze into gardens, caf
és, restaurants and other people’s homes. A little over a quarter of an hour after they left their tiny cottage, they wandered up a slightly posher road towards the white walls of a villa. Nothing about the entrance identified the owner as one of Europe’s most revered artists. Large metal gates were closed but nothing else suggested that this particular compound contained anyone special. Gabriel pressed the buzzer and the gates swung open.

  Dogs barked as they drew closer to the building and Gabriel dropped to his haunches, greeting the two tatty-looking Irish wolfhounds on their own level. A woman appeared at the kitchen door, glass in hand, calling the animals.

  “Harris, get down! Heel, Balfour!” she called. “Fear not, they look dangerous but they’re nothing more than noisy and daft. Welcome, Gabriel and his lovely bride! Come over here and let me see you both. It’s too romantic for words.”

  The dogs herded them towards the main house and the smell of grilling fish. Ophelia Moffatt came down the path to greet them, her kaftan wafting around her body like an Indian dancer’s veils. She kissed Gabriel on both cheeks and rested her hands on Tanya’s shoulders.

  “I’m Ophelia, but you can call me Philly. Everyone does, the disrespectful bastards. Tanya, I am delighted to meet you. May I offer my most sincere congratulations? I’m brimming with joy at you darling people and this young man is radiating love like a Ready Brek kid. How are you finding the cottage? It’s on the rustic side, that much I know, but we did our best to make it worthy of a honeymoon suite. Let’s go in and have a snifter. My Long Island Iced Tea is getting warm.” She slugged the remainder of her drink and Tanya managed to get a word in.

  “Pleased to meet you too! The cottage is just perfect. We’re really grateful. It’s incredibly kind of you to lend us your cottage as a wedding present. I hardly ever get to travel, so this is more of treat than you can imagine.”

 

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