Snow Light

by Danielle Zinn

  But he stopped immediately when he saw the wooden front door. It had been forced open, and the crude lock was lying in the snow.

  What the hell’s going on? Thomas thought.

  He stood still and listened. Not a sound came from the cabin, but he had been involved in enough investigations to know that silence did not equal safety.

  If someone was inside, that person could very well have heard his car or his squeaking footsteps in the snow.

  Slowly, he walked backwards to his SUV, never letting the cabin out of sight, and got his Glock out of a special customised glove compartment.

  Since there was nothing he could use as cover, to move unnoticed to the cabin, he might as well make himself known. “Hello. Is someone there? This is the police!”

  But everything remained quiet. It seemed as if the forest was holding its breath.

  Thomas stood outside the damaged door which was, after all, only about an inch open, and knocked against it.

  “Hello.”

  Nothing stirred. He held his gun out and kicked the door all the way open until it banged onto the wall behind it. Then he quickly checked the bathroom and the kitchen. Empty.

  The rooms looked exactly like they had two days earlier. Only the air was even cooler, and a distinct smell hit his nose.

  From the hallway, he could see a small part of the living room. Dirt was still strewn all over the floor where Barney had pushed over the flowerpot. Thomas thought he had cleaned up most of the mess, but then again, who really cared?

  He walked in and briefly glanced across the room. The bed was still neatly made, and nobody was hiding underneath it. The books stood untouched on their shelves.

  His tension dropped, and he wondered whether he was already paranoid, when he suddenly remembered the reason for his visit.

  Turning around in one sharp move to start searching for the mobile phone in the kitchen, Thomas recoiled so badly that his back slammed brutally into the door frame.

  What he saw was so much beyond expectation, it made him gag.

  21

  THOMAS ran outside retching and bent over, hands on his knees, taking in gulps of cold, snowy air.

  Every policeman, doctor, and paramedic knew that there were certain images and injuries no normal thinking human being could prepare themselves for. Sometimes your body just reacted with disgust.

  Once he had recovered, he called Collins.

  “Are you checking on me today? What’s the matter with you? No, I haven’t found out anything about those Bohemian children, yet,” she answered his call, obviously annoyed.

  “Forget them for the moment. I need Laura, forensics, and the whole shebang at the cabin. Immediately.”

  “What is it with you and this damn cabin?”

  “Believe me, this is the last time I’ll ever come here.”

  “Body?”

  “Yep… spread across the entire wall.”

  “Who is it?”

  “It’s kind of hard to tell…” He concealed the fact that he felt like releasing his breakfast again. Luckily, he had not eaten any cake. What a waste that would have been.

  “That bad?” Collins asked quietly, apparently sensing the turn of events.

  “Yes, that bad. The entire head is blasted off. Listen, I don’t say this very often, but I’ll leave it up to you whether you want to see it or not.”

  “I’ll make the call to the responding teams now. Are you okay?”

  “Thanks. Yes, I’m fine.”

  They hung up, and Thomas walked back to his car, moving it closer towards the cabin to make space for all the vehicles that would no doubt show up within the next thirty minutes.

  When they arrived, he gathered everybody outside the cabin.

  “You look like death warmed up,” Laura greeted him.

  “Nice to see you too,” he replied, pulling a face. “Okay, folks, listen. I know every one of you has seen some terrible images throughout your careers, but please prepare yourself to add another grizzly picture to that gallery. From what I’ve seen, the head has been blasted off. I’d like to have a look with our pathologist first and then I’ll hand over to forensics.” Everybody nodded silently.

  Thomas’s eyes scanned the small crowd in front of him, but he could not spot Collins.

  Instead, Laura turned towards him. “I’m ready whenever you are.” She smiled.

  He pretended to open the already kicked-in door for her. “After you.”

  “What an eerie place,” she said, walking slowly through the hallway. “Where’s the body?”

  “In the living room, sitting right next to the door on the floor. You can’t miss it,” Thomas replied, waiting in the hallway.

  Laura slowly peeked around the corner and looked back at him with a disgusted face. “You saw this unprepared?”

  “Indeed, I did.”

  “Sorry, really. Would you like to see it again? With me, maybe?” She winked.

  “I doubt it looks prettier now, but how can I deny your wish?” Thomas braced himself and followed her into the room.

  There, leaning with his back against the wall and frozen stiff, sat a male body with legs stretched out. He was still wearing his navy-blue winter jacket zipped all the way up, and his arms dangled to either side. The right shoe, a black winter boot, was off and stood neatly next to the armchair, and a dent could be seen in the sock around the big toe.

  A shotgun, with the barrel facing the victim, was leaning on the body drenched in blood.

  “Cause of death,” Laura said matter-of-factly, “was most probably a shotgun placed inside the victim’s mouth. Looks like he pulled the trigger with his toe. The blow blasted off his face and parts of the skull. Some pellets can be seen here.” She held a little pointer to the back of the open head. “And some are stuck in the wall. As you can see, fragments of skull, jaw, and teeth are still clearly visible here, but brain, tissue, and eyes have been distributed all over the floor.” She turned to him. “We probably have to take him to the morgue in this sitting position. It’ll take a while to defrost him.”

  “I’m wondering… does this have to be a suicide?” Thomas asked.

  “I should be able to tell you whether he has other pre-mortem injuries once I have him on my table. Unless of course, those injuries were inflicted to parts of the body that are no longer there. But someone could have forced him to kill himself as well. To be honest, it could be either suicide or murder. Did you know him?”

  Thomas nodded slowly, thoughts racing through his mind. The sight of bone splinters, hair, and skin plastered to the wall did not help him think any clearer. He had recognised the man at first sight. Even without a head and face.

  “Yes, and you have met him too,” he replied.

  Laura looked at the nearly headless body and covered the worst bit with a white cloth. “Who is he?” She looked at him.

  Thomas was violently rubbing his scar. Why? It seemed his brain only knew this one word.

  “Sir, who is he?” He felt Laura tugging softly on his sleeve.

  “Oh, sorry. His name is Robert Myers, the former chief constable of the village.”

  “Yes, we met him at the pyramid that night, didn’t we?”

  “That’s him. Okay, I’ll let forensics in now, and I’ll inform his wife. Let me know if you find something.”

  “Sure.”

  Thomas stepped outside and let the next team in. “I need to know who the shotgun belongs to. Are there fingerprints on it? How was this door opened?” He showed them the damaged lock. “Any signs of a struggle… anything. This could be murder or suicide. Do you understand me?”

  About seven heads nodded.

  “Oh, and please look out for a mobile phone.”

  Thomas trudged back to his car and drove to Myers’s house, wondering how much worse this day could possibly get.

  On the second ring, Myers’s wife opened the door. She looked the same age as her late husband and was about to leave the house dressed in a grey knitted
hat, black parka with food spots on the front, and a grey pleated skirt. She looked up at Thomas, surprised.

  “Hello, how can I help you?”

  “Hello. We didn’t meet last time I spoke to Robert. I’m Detective Inspector Nathaniel Thomas, St Anna Police Force. I’d like to talk to you about your husband, please. Maybe we can go inside?”

  “He’s not here, and I’m on my way to the hairdresser.” She tried to shuffle past him, but he gently blocked her way.

  “Please, Mrs Myers. It’s important.”

  “I haven’t seen the blighter all day! He snuck out when I was still asleep. I don’t know where he is, but it’s not as if the household would notice. Now…” With her hands, she tried to shoo Thomas away.

  “I’ve found him. I know where he went,” Thomas said, trying to tell her with his countenance that he would rather continue the conversation inside.

  But she was not looking up. “Good, then tell him I’m at Lesley’s tonight. No need to wait for me,” she spat.

  “Mrs Myers,” Thomas said, still holding her back softly but firmly. “I have bad news for you, and I would prefer telling you about it inside.”

  She squinted at him and finally turned around.

  Thomas thought she would lead him into the kitchen where they could sit down, but she only closed the door and looked up at him in the dim hallway, still clutching her handbag.

  “Now, say what you want to say or stop wasting my time,” she snapped.

  “I’m sorry to inform you that we’ve found your husband dead, at the cabin in the forest,” Thomas said matter-of-factly.

  Mrs Myers recoiled, eyes wide, and he expected an outcry, tears, and the breakdown of a poor elderly lady suddenly turned into a widow. She took a step towards him, and Thomas was about to allow her to hold on to him so he could console her. But what she did, instead, caught him by surprise. Her fists flew up, and she started punching him in the chest and stomach. Some kicks went to his shins. No tears. No breakdown. Just complete rage.

  “This. Is. All. Your. Fault. Your damn fault! You pushed him into this!”

  Once he had recovered, Thomas grabbed both her wrists and held her firmly at a distance. She was a lot stronger than he had imagined, and he wondered what she had once done for a living.

  “Mrs Myers! Please, calm down! I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

  The pressure in her wrists slowly eased away, and Thomas slightly released his grip but decided not to let go right away.

  One punch had hit the pit of his stomach, and he felt slightly nauseous. Again. She was definitely the one wearing the breeches in this house.

  Slowly she looked up at him. “I was so glad when he retired. Finally, it would get better, I thought. And then you came along and dragged him into this murder story!”

  “I didn’t drag him into anything! After all, he was at the crime scene that night even before I arrived. I just spoke to him as a former work colleague. He knew this village and its people a lot better than I do.”

  “You reopened old wounds! I saw it in his eyes the morning he came back from that bloody market square!”

  “I didn’t call him there. And what old wounds do you mean?”

  “Robert was depressed… took tablets. I hoped that once he had retired he wouldn’t have to see the evil in this world anymore and it would get better. And it did. Until you came along!”

  “I didn’t know he was depressed. I’m sorry. But you can’t blame the murder on me. I rather had the feeling he was happy to help.”

  “You intruded into his home. Brought disaster into his sanctuary!”

  Thomas wondered whether the sanctuary was the cubbyhole he was squashed into on his first visit.

  “How did he die?” his wife asked.

  “We are not sure about that yet. He either shot himself or he was shot. An officer will be here soon to talk to you. In the meantime, could I have a look at his office, please?”

  “He didn’t have an office… just a little room in the attic where he retreated when he didn’t feel well.” She stepped aside to let Thomas pass. “Through the hall and up the stairs. You can’t miss it.”

  “Thank you. One last question, did you have a stomach bug recently?”

  The elderly lady looked up at him bewildered. “I don’t know what that has to do with his death but if it makes you feel better, yes, I had a stomach bug at the weekend. It kept me, and consequently my husband, awake for two nights. If we had been asleep, Robert would not have heard the bloody phone ring and gone to the market square,” she said firmly.

  For someone who had just become a widow, she seemed very composed — a bit too composed for Thomas’s liking. But it was not for him to judge other people’s relationships.

  The attic room was not much bigger than the one he had seen a couple of days earlier. Stuffed with old books, photographs, and CDs, it smelled of decay and moths. Thomas browsed through the books — a potpourri from architecture to fishing and romance novels. Obviously, Myers did not have a specific hobby but was rather generally interested. The photographs showed him with his wife and various friends at garden parties or on holidays. He searched the faces for William Lawson but found nothing. Thomas decided to wait for Laura’s report and then judge whether a search warrant was needed… for whatever it was he would be searching for.

  He gave his sincere condolences to Mrs Myers, who still sat fully dressed in her winter gear in the kitchen speaking to someone on the phone. She dismissed him with a wave of her hand.

  Once back in his car, he called Collins and told her about the events unfolding around them. She said that she had just been about to leave the office to join him at the cabin when a woman returned her call. The woman had lost her parents at a young age and had grown up in an orphanage in Bohemia. At the age of sixteen, she became sick with bowel inflammation, and Dr Lawson came to the local hospital to operate on her. She fancied the young doctor and told him of her worries about the future, and that she had to leave the orphanage — the only place she had ever known up until then — to find work, as soon as she was healthy again. She had just finished school and did not have any qualifications or any money to live on.

  Lawson had used her salad days and convinced her to sell him one of her kidneys. He said she would save someone else’s life and feel deep satisfaction about it. He also gave her enough money to survive for the first three months. Fortunately, she did not have any complications after the surgery, but looking back, she deeply regretted her decision.

  “Well done, Collins. We’re definitely heading in the right direction. I’ll go home quickly and change… I feel like my shoes are leaving a trail of Myers’s brain tissue behind whenever I walk, and then I’ll help you call those people until Laura has further information for us.”

  Mrs Smetana had already left, and he could park his car on the driveway. Leaning against the door of his SUV, he briefly closed his eyes, soaking up the warm winter sun.

  When he opened his front door, the sound of a crackling fire and a sweet, comfortable wood smell greeted him.

  “Hello?” Thomas shouted, wondering how many times Richard came over to his house to watch all the TV channels he did not receive in his own home.

  Barney greeted him, sniffing his shoes before toddling off to the kitchen. He followed him and found Sky making herself a sandwich.

  “Hey, sweetie. What are you doing here? Already done feeding the deer?”

  She turned around, and Thomas looked at a furious face.

  “Just so you know, I came here right after the bake sale and haven’t left the house since, which means this is my second day grounded, so tomorrow and at the weekend I can go skiing!”

  “Okay.” He lifted his hands, conciliatory. “We can talk about that tonight. But why didn’t you go?”

  “Because stupid Ms Adams decided to collapse after the bake sale! She was probably surprised by how much money we made.”

  Thomas’s heart skipped a beat. “She
collapsed?”

  “Yeah… just fell over right in the middle of the hall.”

  His thoughts raced. “And then?”

  “Someone picked her up. What do you think? An ambulance took her to the hospital. But they said it was just a circulatory collapse. I bet she’ll be all right again for school tomorrow.”

  With that, Sky tried to walk past Thomas to the TV, but he held her back firmly. “Listen, young lady, first of all, you don’t call any of your teachers stupid ever again. Secondly, I want you to control your quick temper. We’ve talked about that before. Ms Adams certainly didn’t collapse on purpose to ruin your afternoon, and you can feed the deer next week, instead. No need to be cynical. Are we clear?”

  “What are you doing here anyway?” she asked, trying to dodge him.

  “I asked you something.”

  “Yes, we’re clear. Can I eat my sandwich now?”

  Thomas gave her one last stern look before releasing her to the lounge.

  He went to his bedroom and changed into his third set of clothes within five hours. When he came downstairs again, Sky looked at him sheepishly.

  “You haven’t answered my question,” she said, looking up at him from behind the couch.

  Anticipating a long day, Thomas decided to keep her company for a short while. “I just came back to change, as you can see,” he said, sitting down next to her and tried to steal half a sandwich from her plate.

  “Didn’t you go to St Anna?” she replied, slapping his hand.

  “No, I was at the cabin looking for something.” His thoughts trailed off to the nearly headless Myers, and then to Kate. He decided he would visit her at the hospital later on, after seeing Laura.

  “Can we go skiing at the weekend, please?” Sky begged.

  “I’ll try, but I can’t promise you. And to get on with the case, I better get going now.”

  He ruffled her hair, to which she responded in kind, got up, and gathered his belongings.

  “You can go over to Richard when they are back, okay?”

  Sky nodded, lifting Barney onto the couch.