The risk was simply too great. Boeck would have put all his contacts on red alert, so asking her colleagues for help really wasn’t an option. Under normal circumstances, Eva would have taken the risk, but Boeck was a different kettle of fish – he wouldn’t hesitate to kill. As they’d seen, he didn’t do fair trials, only proper executions. I suggested calling Dahl, but my father’s solicitor was also Boeck’s. Even if Dahl might help, it would take too long to convince him.
‘Why can’t we call the mainland police?’
‘Who do you think they’ll listen to? Boeck is best buddies with our chief of police. We don’t have the time to lose. We need to get out. Every minute counts.
‘I still think we should call. If we’re caught no one will even know we’re in danger.’
Eva gave in and rang Helsinki. She told a police inspector about the ice cage, the resuscitations and the kiln, but he was sceptical. I followed the conversation on speaker phone.
‘We have to talk to your local police.’
‘I am the local police and I’m telling you, you can’t trust the local police.’
‘Can you give me your location?’
‘I’ve told you, I’m on Åland.’
‘Can you be more precise?’
‘Why are you wasting time when I say it’s urgent?’
‘These are serious allegations. We can’t override normal procedures and send manpower without confirmation that something is actually happening.’
‘The man’s my stepfather. He’s a mass murderer for godssake! He’s tried to kill me, what more proof do you want?’
‘Just stay put. We’ll call the local police station and get back to you.’
The man hung up. Eva was furious.
‘They don’t believe me.’
It wasn’t surprising. She hadn’t believed me either. It was a lot to take in, even for the most imaginative of police officers. It all seemed so pointless. My father had died for nothing and now Anna. I wanted to give up and go home but couldn’t, not if I wanted to live. We knew too much. Eva said we had to keep going, because my father’s death would be completely in vain if we couldn’t make the truth come out. The only way we were going to do that was by getting to the mainland before Boeck got hold of us. There was no time to lose.
58
First we had to find a discreet way to the safety of the Swedish mainland. The ferry was out of the question, as boarding incognito was impossible. The same went for the airport and with the Baltic covered in ice, a small boat wasn’t an option either. The safest bet would be a combination of skating and boating, but we couldn’t drag a boat along while skating.
We may be able to skate all the way to Sweden – Eva knew of a passage that was frozen most winters, although she’d never used it. It was hearsay and would depend on the prevailing winds. If it didn’t work, our chances of survival would be minimal and we would freeze to death in a hole in the ice. If successful, it was the perfect way to disappear from Åland without a trace.
We could borrow skates at the yacht club. We also needed provisions, waterproof clothing and navigation equipment. We couldn’t return to Eva’s place, but Boeck’s car was full of winter gear. She’d unloaded it before dumping the car in a forest far away from the house. I’d also asked her to retrieve the DVD with my father’s death from the broken DVD player in the car, as it was a tangible proof of Boeck’s activities.
We would pick up additional bits and bobs for the crossing at the yacht club. On second thought, Eva said it might be better to use an ice yacht than skates. The Black Pearl would be faster. I asked again if she was sure there wasn’t anyone we could trust on the island. Maybe Thor, but she really didn’t want to take any risks. Boeck simply had too many friends. Although I told her Thor didn’t seem to like Boeck, she preferred to contact people once we were safe. How could I be so sure Thor didn’t pretend to dislike Boeck? It wouldn’t be his first lie. No one was beyond suspicion and Åland was too small for hiding. Besides, Eva wasn’t sure how Thor could help. Involving him might endanger him more than anything else and she didn’t want more innocent people to get killed. Before leaving, Eva wanted to talk to her mother to make sure she was OK and to ask if she knew anything about Boeck’s plans. If not, she needed to be warned and it might be safer for her to stay in Helsinki. Eva rang Riita again, but the phone went automatically to voicemail, she tried Aunt Lena, who told her that her mum wasn’t there and wasn’t expected. Lena wondered why Eva was asking.
‘Is there a problem?’
‘No, a misunderstanding.’
Eva hung up. There was a problem, but she didn’t think telling her aunt would be a good idea. Boeck had lied. Riita hadn’t visited her sister in Helsinki. Eva was tormented. What had Boeck done to her mother? We needed to find Riita.
59
Boeck’s villa was the last place we should go, but we had no choice, as we needed to make sure Riita was safe. After what Boeck had done to my father and Anna, he was likely to hurt her too if she’d found out about his cause. We would head straight to the yacht club afterwards. It was early and if we left within the next couple of hours, we could make the crossing before darkness. We arrived there on two kicksleds – that pan-Scandinavian winter vehicle. Most Londoners would probably have called them dog sleds, except that the kicksleds were propelled by us, not dogs. They were slower than snowmobiles, but more silent.
We’d been watching the house for a good 20 minutes and there hadn’t been a single sign of life. Boeck must be out looking for us, unless it was a trap, but we couldn’t wait any longer. Eva knew where they kept the spare key. I followed her as she went in gun in hand.
‘Mum?’
No reply.
‘MUM!’
We heard banging from the basement. The stairs were immediately on the right as we came in through the hall and we rushed down to find Riita chained to a radiator. Eva got a spanner and used it to disconnect the pipe and free Riita. I heard a car and ran back upstairs to look out the window. By the time I got to a window, Boeck was already marching towards the front door. There was no time to warn Eva. I had to hide in the wardrobe in the hall. After what seemed like an eternity, he appeared in front of it in profile, gun in hand, taking cautious steps and briefly looking down the stairs to his right before stopping and – sensing my presence – turning to face the wardrobe.
I don’t know where it came from, but I acted on impulse, flung the door open and lunged to push him down the basement stairs before he could react. He crash-landed on the landing halfway down the stairs and I threw myself after him before he got up. In spite of being paralysed with fear, I’d never moved so fast. It must have been primeval instinct, or the Viking in me taking control. Boeck had dropped his gun and was reaching for it, but Eva beat him to it as she shot up from the basement, whacking his hand with the spanner. It sounded like she broke it and he screamed in agony as she snatched his gun.
‘Don’t hurt him!’
Riita was in tears. I couldn’t understand how she could live with a freak without realising it. Eva kept her head clear.
‘Get up. Do as say or I’ll kill you.’
Boeck looked at the gun aimed at his head and slowly stood up to face Eva.
‘We can sort this out.’
Eva pushed him down the stairs and into the room where we’d found her mother. I took over the gun while she cuffed him to the radiator, making sure the pipe was properly tightened. Boeck grabbed her wrist and yanked her until they stood face to face. He was shaking with anger.
‘Don’t do this.’
‘Let go!’
‘I’m warning you.’
When he squeezed harder, she hit him on the temple with the spanner, making him let go of her wrist. She raised the spanner again, ready to strike.
‘I should…’
Riita grabbed Eva’s arm from behind, holding back a second strike.
‘I’ll kill you if you go near my mother again.’
She meant it.
‘Why did you lock her up?’
‘Riita called the police about Henrik’s death.’
Eva turned to her mother.
‘You knew!’
‘I overheard a phone conversation about Henrik being killed. I had to do something.’
‘Why didn’t you call me?’
‘I told Ernst.’
Eva’s heart sank. It meant that he was one of Boeck’s men.
‘Not Ernst…’
‘Listen, Eva. The radiator was a temporary solution to stop her from doing anything stupid. It was to protect her from herself. Please Eva... This is important.’
Eva roared. She swung the spanner with all her might to evacuate the anger. Boeck ducked, holding up his free arm to protect himself. The spanner made a big dent in the wall where his head had been. Eva was about to hit again and not miss this time.
I helped Riita to drag Eva out of the basement. We took the pliers and the spanner with us, while Boeck was left simmering by the radiator. Once she’d calmed down, Eva went back in to snatch his new mobile and crushed it with her boot. This was the second of his phones she destroyed. She searched his pockets to make sure there wasn’t a third one.
We had to move fast – Boeck’s men would be looking for him. We separated outside the house. Riita went to the dog lady on one of the kicksleds. No one knew of Eva’s connection with the lady and Riita would be safer and draw less attention without us. Besides, she couldn’t possibly cross the ice to Sweden. Eva and I took the other kicksled. As we were leaving, Riita held Eva in her arms for a long time before turning to me to take my hands and look me in the eye.
‘Henrik was a good man.’
It wasn’t much, but a few good words I could use, another piece in the puzzle that was my father. I watched Riita leave on her sled, wondering what she’d endured with Boeck.
60
Eva didn’t worry because there was no point – the situation was so hopeless there was nothing to worry about. Of course, she was afraid too, but her way of dealing with the fear was to face it. Worrying wouldn’t achieve anything. In this we were different and I admired her guts. Was it because of the circumstances, because I wouldn’t have survived without her, or would I have been a fan regardless?
We worked away on the kicksled. It was a matter of rhythm. I was standing right behind her, my left foot on the thin metal blade and the right leg kicking away. Our movements had to be perfectly synchronized or our legs would crash and the sled would come to a halt. It was the ultimate in team effort and a good feeling to work together so well, considering where we were going. If escaping Boeck was difficult, crossing the ice would be hell. I hoped that Boeck was definitely history and that we would be able to focus on the physical challenge ahead, but I wouldn’t feel safe from him until the island was out of sight. I expected one of his men to appear on a snowmobile around every bend, a clear sign that it wasn’t over yet, although I suspected that even in the unlikely event that we did get out of this alive, Boeck’s men would still be haunting me for a long time. We kicked and kicked, going faster and faster.
By now, Eva was definitely sure the ice yacht was a better bet than the skates. On skates, we would be caught in no time if they found our trail, whereas with favourable winds, an ice yacht could outrun a snowmobile. I thought she made sense, especially as I hadn’t done much endurance skating in recent years. But what if Boeck’s gang used ice yachts as well? It was time to stop thinking, time for action. When we arrived at the yacht club, every second counted – Boeck’s men wouldn’t be far behind.
61
Boeck was furious with himself for letting them catch him in his own house, but nothing was lost as long as they were still on the island. He started kicking the radiator, yanking it with the full weight of his 100 kilos, but it wouldn’t budge, which made him go even more berserk. He shook and kicked it until it started loosening, eventually breaking off and crashing onto the floor with him on top.
He screamed in pain as boiling water gushed out from the broken pipe onto his cuffed hand. He tried to break the pipe by stamping wildly on it. It bent, but wouldn’t break and when it eventually did, the pipe cut his burnt hand. He rushed to the kitchen tap to cool the burn and rinse the cut. He knew they couldn’t be far. There was no doubt he would catch them. He’d underestimated Magnus once more, but it wouldn’t happen again. They’d been too soft – bloody communists. Eva and Magnus should have killed him when they had the chance, because now he was going to terminate them – the English bastard and the Finnish bitch.
62
I’d never worked so fast. It was one of those moments when supernatural powers appear. We carried the Black Pearl out as if it was a rubber dinghy. Our only objective was survival, nothing else mattered. Eva sat down in the cockpit first and I squeezed in between her legs. She was a tall woman, but sharing a bucket with her was a lot more pleasant than with Thor’s humongous backside.
She did the steering as we shot off from the yacht club in the nick of time, with Boeck’s Volvo SUV monster roaring onto the ice behind us. It hadn’t taken him long to escape. I seriously doubted we would ever shake him. If only Eva had killed him with the spanner, it could have saved our lives, but we were no assassins.
The car was approaching fast and we were about to be mauled. One of Boeck’s men – Andri again – aimed a moose rifle at us and pulled the trigger. The first bullet went straight through the sail, the second through the mast. The Volvo was only yards away now, threatening to run us over any moment. They were so close that I could see Boeck’s determined expression. I was panicking.
‘We’ll never lose them.’
Eva gave me a defiant you-just-watch-me look as another bullet ripped the left side of the yacht. We suddenly changed direction and were catapulted to the right with the ice yacht balancing on one blade, leaning against the wind, with the other blade hanging in mid-air. I thought this was it, the yacht was finished – Boeck had killed it, us. But when I looked at Eva, she was in total control and the yacht still racing ahead. If there was such a thing as stunt yachting this must be it. I looked back, but there was no trace of the SUV. It had vanished from the icescape. I looked at Eva again.
‘Where are they?’
She nodded, and I finally spotted the car spinning in the distance, way ahead of us. It had skidded almost a hundred meters and was totally out of control. Eva had out-manoeuvred Boeck. I turned to give her a dry but spontaneous kiss on the mouth, which was all I had to offer with the wind factor and the associated cracked lips. My mother had always called them Baltic lips. Was it the speed, the ice, the infinite whiteness or just an adrenalin injection? I wasn’t sure, but I felt relief, liberated.
We’d finally lost Boeck thanks to Eva using a favourable gust of wind to sneak through a narrow passage between islands. I felt very much alive, but also guilty for almost enjoying the excitement of the moment, while Carrie was on the point of giving birth back in London, not to mention Anna being brutally murdered and my father tortured to death. I’d even killed a man but still managed to feel detached. It must be survival instinct – it was all too much and there was no room for thinking. I was caught in a parallel universe, disconnected, apathetic, as if watching myself in a movie. The infinity of the ice gave me inner peace. The crispness, the sparkle and the closeness of ice and sky reminded me of a Dutch painting. In spite of the flatness, there was height, a subtle transition to the sky as the ice morphed into towering clouds at the horizon. The blades of the ice yacht crackled against the ice floor and there was a sweet murmur – the voice of the wind caressing the ice on its way from St. Petersburg to Stockholm.
We passed the fisherman’s cabin in the distance. It looked peaceful with the smoke still coming out of the chimney pipe. He was sitting in there unaware of what was going on in the outside world. Maybe he was right, maybe looking down was the right thing to do – peering inwards at the origins of life.
The p
eace didn’t last, because it never did and I never learnt. I’d gone with the moment again and suddenly it was as if a storm blew up. There was an ear-deafening noise, but we couldn’t place it, until the chopper shot up from behind an island and I recognised the air force helicopter from the museum. It skimmed the ice above us, peppering us with bullets and I automatically ducked, pulling Eva down with me. This time we were definitely out of our depth. A man holding a megaphone waved for us to stop, but Eva ignored him.
‘THIS IS THE LAST WARNING.’
The yacht came to a standstill as she pulled up against the wind.
‘What are you doing? We’re sitting ducks. They’ll kill us!’
A bullet hit the ice right next to the yacht, while Eva took out a rifle and aimed.
‘Where did you get that from?’
She answered with her eyes firmly on her target – the tail rotor.
‘Your father’s.’
My father the hunter, the cannibal, I thought, as a bullet hit me in the foot, signalling that this was a bad time for reminiscing.
‘AAAaaaaaouch!’
Blood was pouring out of the hole in my shoe, but Eva didn’t flinch, her eyes still locked on target. Couldn’t she fucking see I’d been shot in the foot?! This was a matter of life and death. We were being slaughtered.
Eva’s action seemed to happen in s l o w - m o t i o n and time stopped. The pain in my foot was so excruciating that I’d blocked out all sounds. Eva gave me a determined glance, before aiming at the tail rotor again and squeezing the trigger. This was it, all or nothing.
The Ice Cage — A Scandinavian Crime Thriller set in the Nordic Winter (The Baltic Trilogy) Page 14