Death Comes to Strandvig

by Diane Hansen-Ingram

  Karin took her mug and three single socks and one welly boot – why is there always a lone welly boot in the electric drying cabinet? – then headed back to the cloakroom. The large wicker basket was already overflowing with scarves, lone slippers, cardigans and bicycle helmets. As well as various dummies, the Play Mobil pirate ship, pieces of paper with crayon doodles on them, a large T-Rex and various Lego bricks. She removed the pirate ship and Lego and took them into Red Room.

  The heat from Red Room was stifling so she opened the windows for some fresh, icy air and decided to finish her coffee out on the playground. She quickly swapped her slip-on sneakers for her crocs, pulled on her purple, full-length, goose-down winter coat and headed out to make a quick inspection. In the summer months it was part of her routine to make an inspection every single morning. The long, light nights of Danish summer always had the same effect on the local teens. It somehow gave them the urge to jump over the nursery fence in the evenings and use the playground as a base for a party. So you never knew exactly what you were going to discover in the playhouses the next morning. Usually it was empty beer bottles or Bacardi Breezers. Karin would carry a bag around the playground with her, collecting the empties. And on tur dag on Thursday, when the kids were out for their walk, they’d take the bag with them and get the deposit money on the bottles. It didn’t amount to more than a few kroner, but the kids loved feeding the bottles, one by one, into the big, flashing, noisy recycling machine.

  No sign of beer bottles this morning. Only frozen puddles. All the sand toys were in their designated tub. The twenty-five green Arla milk crates (which had been ‘stolen’ and repurposed as giant building blocks) were stacked in towers of four. She could hear her own voice. “No more than four, Jannick, or they’ll crash down and hurt the kids’ fingers when they topple!” She checked the shed, where all the balance bikes and trikes were piled together, and the lock was intact.

  All Karin’s ducks were in a row. Even the wheelbarrows and wooden carts in the carport were lined up side-by-side, like soldiers. And slowly being covered with snow. It was then she spied something out of place, huddled up in the back corner of the carport. A body, dark and motionless.

  CHAPTER 19

  The Carlsberg lorry pulled slowly out of the Strandhøj car park. Karsten waved to the driver and hurried back into the bar, brushing off large snowflakes from his shirtsleeves and rubbing his hands together. “Brrrrrrr!”

  “Shhhhhh!” Lisbeth was perched on a chair, behind the bar, phone in hand, chatting with a fresh foodstuffs supplier. The two women hadn’t exactly seen eye-to-eye when they first started working together but, twenty years of weekly phone calls later, they’d both mellowed and struck up an unusual phone friendship: they lived no more than five kilometres apart, but had never met. Their call always followed the same procedure. First they’d go through the week’s order. Then moved swiftly on to the week’s gossip: more often than not what the Danish Royals were wearing, doing or giving birth to.

  Karsten looked at Johnny, who was busy setting tables. “Who’s she on the phone to?”

  “Margrethe, I think”.

  Karsten shrugged. “Well, that’s her busy for the next half hour then. I think I preferred it when they had a mutual dislike for each other – I got more work out of her back then!”

  Lisbeth peeped up. “Hey, you, I heard that!” Then she turned her chair around and went back to work with Margrethe: seeing which of them could remember the most middle names of the Crown Prince’s five children. Each child had three middle names. Lisbeth was currently in the lead and thoroughly enjoying her chance to shine by being able to remember the more exotic middle names given to the Royal twins. Princess Josephine had ‘Ivalo’ and Prince Vincent was given ‘Minik’. Both relatively unknown names in Denmark. At least, that is, until they were read out at the Royal christening, and sent ripples through the highly expectant community of Danish mothers-to-be. Ivalo and Minik were very common Greenlandic names. So their selection had been a very deliberate right royal salute to the Greenlanders and Greenland: Denmark’s territory above the Arctic Circle. Lisbeth bobbed her head, “I know, Margrethe. Vincent Frederik Minik Alexander is a mouthful!”

  Meanwhile Karsten took a double take at Johnny. “By the way, you’re in early this morning, aren’t you?” He walked over and made a great show of looking Johnny up and down. “Johnny, if I didn’t know better, I’d swear Martians had taken you away during the night and replaced you with an upgrade. Well, well, well – look at you all clean and tidy. What’s the big occasion? Hot date tonight?”

  “Nah, just want to look my best, Karsten. Never know when opportunity is going to come knocking on your door, do you?”

  Karsten sniffed the air. “And what’s that smell?” He leant in over Johnny’s shoulder and sniffed again. “For fanden, Johnny, you smell like a hooker’s handbag!”

  Johnny tried to shrug it off. “Nah, Karsten. I’m wearing clean socks today!”

  Karsten laughed and slapped him on the back. Lisbeth put down the phone, “Oh, will you leave him alone, Karsten! Johnny, I think you look very nice.” She smiled at him, “She must be a very lucky lady!”

  Karsten started moving glasses behind the bar. “Well, it’s good you’re in early. The paths need salting. Can you do it when you’re finished here?”

  “Already done, Karsten! Saw to it when I arrived.”

  Lisbeth put down the phone and looked at Karsten. “Didn’t Stig do it?”

  “No, he didn’t. Because Stig isn’t here yet.”

  “What? Did he call?”

  “Well, you’ve been hogging the phone for the last fifteen minutes, my love...”

  “I meant before that.”

  “No.”

  “Well, have you tried calling him?” Lisbeth was beginning to worry.

  “Yes, my love.”

  “And?”

  “He didn’t answer.”

  Lisbeth wasn’t going to let it go. “Did you leave him a message?”

  “Yes, my love.”

  She looked at her watch. “Well, that’s not like Stig at all. He’s so reliable.”

  “Lisbeth, my love… The roads are bad. Maybe he got caught somewhere. Don’t worry that pretty little Aarhus head of yours!”

  Lisbeth scrunched up an old cream coloured paper serviette and threw it at him. Then checked her mobile phone to see if Stig had left a message there.

  “Karsten, have you tried calling Æblegården?”

  CHAPTER 20

  Mads stretched and yawned. His head was pounding and his throat was dry. He switched on the bedside lamp and cursed: it was time to make a clean start. He got up and headed towards the living room, making a path through the clothes strewn across the floor. His leather jacket was lying on the sofa, where he had thrown it last night. Mads pulled it on and walked over to the stereo. He picked up a small, white wicker basket, and started to flick through the CDs one-by-one. Then went straight for the one at the very back. Magtens Korridorer. She wouldn’t miss it – she hated it.

  Mads put the CD in his pocket, and slammed the door behind him. Next stop would be the petrol station for some coffee and bread on the way back to the Kayak Club. And perhaps even pick up a bunch of flowers for Lea.

  CHAPTER 21

  I must be mad! Lea kept her head down and cycled against the wind as best she could. Her uniform of grey woollen hat and grey lambswool scarf were normally up to the job. But on a winter morning like this one – when just breathing in and out was painful – she had felt that it was time to bring out the big guns. It had taken her a few, frantic extra minutes to locate her old, rather sorry looking dark green, fleece earmuffs at the back of her wardrobe. Like everything else in there, the earmuffs had been pushed further and further back and had finally given up and decided to seek cover inside one of the many black tops that lurked right at the back (those same black tops that seemed to breed by the week). But after much pushing and pulling, and a few choice expletives, victo
ry was hers. The earmuffs wrapped snuggly round the back of her head and tucked in nicely underneath her woollen hat. Cosy ears were definitely high up on the list of daily luxuries. As were her new thermal ski gloves, even if they weren’t exactly the most glamorous choice for a woman of her age. And, let’s be honest, Lea could no longer still describe herself as a girl. ‘Young woman’ was the most she could get away with these days. Yes, the gloves had been a tad expensive. But I’m worth it, right? They didn’t let in the cold wind like her old woollen ones had. Ugh! Listen to me! Warmth and practicality had once again trumped her sense of fashion. What is wrong with me? First the crocs and now these! I’m an old maid!

  Despite being swaddled like a baby in a crib, Lea’s cheeks were exposed and beginning to turn a very bright shade of red. She could feel the cold wind beginning to bite the inside of her nostrils. It tickled and made her want to sneeze. She tried to pull her scarf up over her nose. And focused her mind very firmly on the prospect of the hot sauna waiting for her. Heaven! Just the tonic she needed after being out in the cold all night. She tried not to dwell too much on the fact that the bathing steps would certainly be encrusted in a rather thick layer of ice. Even though she loved winter bathing, she would never ever get used to walking on ice with wet feet. Thankfully one of the Oldies – Bent or Ole – would already have chipped the worst ice away and sprinkled salt on the main paths.

  And where was Bent? She had tried ringing him before she left the house, feeling rather guilty about being so short with him in the car park last night. But just like last night there was no reply, only his silly answering machine. That man was so hard to pin down! She could hear his voice in her head. “Me…hard to pin down? That’s what she said last night! Ha ha!” Lea tried to ignore the image of Bent and one of his harem that popped up in her head and decided she would give him a big hug when she got to the club. Lea would be honest with him and apologise. After all, it wasn’t Bent’s fault that Mads had been such a jerk. As she herself had said to Bent in the car park last night, she was a big girl. And big girls should be able to manage their own problems. Especially boy problems.

  The gravel spreaders had passed by only moments before. There were tiny flecks of grey on the cycle lane and, as was often the case, the cycle paths were in better shape than the roads this morning. Lea really wasn’t keen on cycling on ice but, as she didn’t own a car, there was no real alternative transport apart from the hourly bus that served the coastal road. The round trip would take at least an hour and a half – there was no way she could fit in a swim and still be at her council desk ready to do some work by 9 am. So bike it was.

  The passing cars provided occasional flashes of warm, yellow light. She kept in the middle of the cycle path and kept her head and her speed down. Her elbow and her thigh were still smarting from the night before, so she certainly wasn’t keen to take another tumble. And she’d probably have a lovely yellow bruise to show for it. Something for the others to speculate, while they sat knee-to-knee in the sauna. Lea started to feel warmth coming back to her body. Warmth stemming from a burning feeling inside of her. “Day or night”, my ass. What a crook! And to think she had almost fallen for it. Mads Sørensen was out of her life, for ever.

  CHAPTER 22

  “Morning, Karin!” Sonja was sitting in the cloakroom part of the entrance hall, quietly cheering on Asger, who was in the final stages of the painstaking process of removing his thermal ski suit and his thermal boots. Not the easiest of tasks when you’re two-years old and all fingers and thumbs. Especially when you are deaf to reason and insist on wearing your gloves throughout the process. Karin put a protective hand in the space between Asger’s head and the wooden cloakroom hooks when he wobbled slightly, pulling his left foot out of the trouser leg. “What’s up? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

  “So would you, if you’d just been in the carport.” She held up a long, damp, furry brown object. “I found it lying at the back and thought it was a dead body.”

  “Ha ha, someone’s been watching too many of those thrillers on TV! That’s Oscar’s ski suit, isn’t it?”

  Karin looked at the name label. “Bingo!”

  “What was it doing in the carport?” “Heaven only knows. His mum probably dropped it when they were on their way out last night.” Droplets of water fell slowly on to the floor. “But there’s no way he can wear that right now, it’s completely sodding. I’ll throw it in the washing machine. He can borrow one of the spare ones today.”

  The shuffling and panting beside them stopped. “Hey, well done, Asger! You did it all by yourself!”

  Asger looked up proudly. “I’ve pooped!”

  “Erm, that’s great!” She winked at Sonja. “Onwards and upwards! Don’t you just love this job?”

  Sonja stood up and ironed the crease out of her back. “No better way to start the day... Come on, Asger. Let’s get you changed. Give me the ski suit, Karin, I’ll throw it in the wash when we’re in there.”

  “Thanks! By the way, it’s nice and cosy in the laundry room. Stig fixed the radiator yesterday.” She held up her coffee mug. “Want some coffee, Sonja?”

  “Music to my ears, I’d love one!”

  The office phone rang and Karin turned around. “Okay, just let me answer this and I’ll bring you one.”

  CHAPTER 23

  Lisbeth looked up from her magazine, a combination of Royal news and TV guide. She and Karsten didn’t get much chance to watch TV, but they kept a copy in the reception for guests to leaf through. And for Lisbeth to coo over pictures of Royal babies, not having had any of her own. A long wail of a siren and a flash of blue had interrupted her fifth attempt to start the beginners’ Sudoku on the game page. No matter how many times she tried, the figures just danced in front of her.

  “Hey, lads, did you see that? An ambulance just went past!”

  “Yes, my love. Well done, that was an ambulance. Two points to you!” He winked at Johnny.

  Lisbeth ignored him. “But look, it’s stopped. Just on the other side, in front of the Vikings!” Karsten tried to pooh-pooh the situation. He had managed to distract Lisbeth from stressing over Stig’s failure to report for duty this morning, and was keen to avoid another half hour of anxiety, speculation and extra phone calls. Especially as they would be run off their feet today and he wanted to get some work out of her. “Don’t you worry, my love! Probably just Holy Helle having another one of her bloody fire drills! Yes, Sir, Sergeant Major, Sir!” he said, clicking his feet together and saluting.

  Johnny craned his neck, “Probably one of the old biddies fainted when they saw Bent Bang parading his crown jewels on the bathing bridge!”

  Karsten laughed, perhaps a bit too loud. “The oldest swinger in town strikes again!” Lisbeth closed the magazine and stood up.

  “Hey, Johnny, talking of ambulances,” Karsten was already chuckling to himself, “how many people from Aarhus—”

  Lisbeth frowned, “Karsten, really, I don’t think this is the time—”

  “–does it take to drive an ambulance?”

  Johnny laughed. “Out with it, don’t keep me in suspense!”

  “Two! One to say ‘Baaaaa’ and one to say ‘Boooo’!”

  “Really, Karsten!” Lisbeth reached up and gave him a short, swift slap on the top of the head then took up position at the window.

  CHAPTER 24

  The ambulance passed Lea on the way, sirens blaring. She had seen it turn on to the coastal road as she was unlocking her bike. But she hadn’t realised it had been heading for the Vikings. And now, there it was again, making a U-turn and coming back down towards her. She had a bad feeling at the bottom of her stomach, which was balanced by the genuine pain she could feel in her right leg, which had started to throb. She pedalled as fast as her leg and the ice would allow. And cursed Mads, again.

  The snow was fairly coming down now and, even though snowflakes were sticking to her eyelashes, she could make out a small group huddled together on the
bathing jetty. The Oldies were easy to spot: slightly small in stature and slightly bent over. Bent was there too, with his bright yellow beanie hat. And she knew that last one was Holy Helle. Either that or it was a large, furry creature depositing a large brown bottle – could it be the infamous bottle of Gammel Dansk? – into the recycling bin.

  Lea locked her bike, fished for the club key, which she kept on an old Scout lanyard in the bottom of her bathing bag and rushed towards the gate. Bent had seen her arrive and was rushing up the boards towards her, his yellow beanie-covered head bent down in an attempt to avoid the snowflakes. Lea suddenly felt a very large wave of guilt come over her. She had behaved so badly towards him at the car park last night and she could feel tears pricking at her eyes. When he opened the gate she gave him a spontaneous hug, almost knocking him over.

  Bent sighed. “Oh, Lea Mus, I don’t know where to start!”

  “What on earth’s going on? It’s not Ellen, is it?”

  “Ellen, Lea Mus?” Bent looked up at her, puzzled.

  “The ambulance I saw just now. It was coming from here, wasn’t it?”

  Bent still looked confused. “Yes, but—”

  “Was it for Ellen? Did she get stuck in the hut again?”

  “What? Oh no, Lea Mus. Ellen isn’t even here today.” He hesitated and looked up at her, slightly lost. “Oh, I’m sorry, sweetheart, I’m not supposed to say ‘Lea Mus’ anymore, am I?”

  Lea rubbed his arm gently and for the first time suddenly realised how old Bent actually was. He looked as though the wind had been completely knocked out of him. Someone had replaced the sprightly joker with a frail, old man.

  “Oh, pyt, Bent, I don’t care about that! Just tell me what’s going on!”