Death Comes to Strandvig

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Death Comes to Strandvig Page 13

by Diane Hansen-Ingram


  That’s when it hit him. He suddenly felt very weak and had to steady himself on the door. He had to speak to Daniel. But how on earth was he going to get out?

  CHAPTER 48

  Lea stared down at her phone.

  Mads drew back in his seat, suddenly on the offensive. “Aren’t you going to answer it?”

  The phone continued to ring.

  “Or is it Daniel?”

  “Daniel? Why would it be Daniel?” She looked down at the screen again. It was Daniel. No doubt about it. How on earth did Mads know that? What the hell is going on?

  “Come off it, Lea. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. Everyone has.”

  “You’re making it up—”

  “Johnny was just mentioning it last night.”

  Lea tried to pry her eyes away from her phone. “Oh, he was, was he?” Why is Johnny always poking his nose into other people’s business. She put her phone down on the table beside her, trying not to blush. Daniel trying to call me? So I didn’t imagine it. Wow. Maybe this Old Maid can still turn heads? She stood up. “And even if it was, Mads Sørensen? What on earth would that have to do with you? That’s absolutely none of your bloody business! Who do you think you are? You come back to Strandvig and think you can just waltz back in to our lives—”

  Mads put his hands up in defence. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry!” He thought for a second and leaned in towards her. “Maybe I’m a little jealous? I just hoped that you and I might be able to—”

  Lea moved towards the door. “Enough of your smooth talk, Mads! Things have changed around here. And for your information, Mads, I’m actually waiting for Bent to call!” She stood up. “I think it’s best you leave now…”

  CHAPTER 49

  Lea closed the door of her flat, took a deep breath and sat down. She looked at her phone one more time, just to be sure. Daniel had tried to call. Something that both thrilled and terrified her. What on earth did he want? More to the point – her heart rate beginning to break into a slow jog – what on earth did she want? Her mind, meanwhile, was already in full sprint and racing backwards, then forwards, in a hundred different directions. Maybe she (and Mads, Johnny and the rest of Strandvig) was reading Daniel all wrong and it was part and parcel of the police enquiries about Stig. Maybe he had dialled the wrong number – it happened (usually to Bent). But why hadn’t Daniel left a message? Damn! She was too scared to call him back.

  She willed the telephone to ring again. Damn that Mads was right. And damn that Mads was sitting there with her when the phone rang. He was never where you expected him to be and was always in the wrong place at the wrong time!

  Five minutes later there was still only deafening silence from her phone. There was no point in sitting here waiting for Daniel to call, she had better go look for Bent. And why hadn’t Bent returned her calls? Men! She threw her telephone into her bag – checking one more time that the volume was set to the maximum – pulled on her winter boots, wrapped her grey scarf around her neck and decided she would bike up to Strandhøj Kro. Perhaps Bent had stopped off there for a half pint and had got a little too cosy sitting up on his little perch of a bar stool? Though, to be fair to him, he was more likely being held hostage by Karsten and his never-ending supply of witticisms. It was worth a shot.

  Lea turned in to the hotel car park and was somewhat disappointed to find Johnny, the eyes and ears of Strandvig, wheeling a barrel towards the cellar steps. She kept her head down and wheeled her bike over to the stand, hoping he wouldn’t hear the sound of the tyres on the ice.

  “Hey there, beautiful!”

  She pretended not to hear and bent over to lock her bike. If he dares make one remark about Mads, I swear I will tear his head off!

  “Hey, Lea!” Johnny was grinning like a Cheshire cat and made a big play of looking at his watch. “We don’t normally see you here this time of day. Sorry, beautiful, but if you want some lunch you’re out of luck. We closed a quarter of an hour ago.”

  Lea shrugged. Steady now, Lea! You’re a big girl, no cupcakes this year. Don’t let him get the better of you! “That’s okay. I don’t want lunch.”

  Johnny stopped wheeling the barrel and leant his arms on the trolley. “Oh, I get you. New diet is it? Karsten’s on a diet. A sea—”

  Lea had heard this one a thousand times before. She would not fall into the trap. No, she would not. She puffed up her chest and mimicked Johnny’s voice. “A seafood diet, Johnny? ‘He sees food and eats it?’”

  Johnny didn’t seem in the least put out by her rather impressive, she thought, imitation of him.

  “Okay, not seafood then. Maybe you’re on a whisky diet, like me?”

  “Whisky?”

  “Yeah, beautiful. I’m on a whisky diet…and I’ve already lost three days!”

  Lea groaned inwardly. She had fallen into the trap. Again. “For the love of God, Johnny, it’s already bad enough with Karsten without you starting… Look, I need to find Bent, is he inside?” She almost spat the words out, surprising herself. Good for you, Lea!

  “Bent? Dunno, beautiful. He wasn’t in earlier, but I couldn’t swear to it. I’ve been out here for the last five or ten minutes.”

  “Okay, thanks.” She threw her bike key into her bag and headed towards Strandhøj’s main entrance.

  “Hey, are you alright?”

  Lea turned around. Do not feed the troll. Do not feed the troll. “Yes, Johnny. Perfectly, fine.” She continued walking, well aware that Johnny’s eyes were still fixed upon her.

  “You look a bit…what’s the word? Agitated? Your face is all red.”

  Lea swirled around. Johnny took out a Prince, looking the picture of innocence. Thanks a million, Johnny, that’s just what I needed to hear. Lea unravelled her woollen scarf in an attempt to get some cool air on her face. “So would you, Johnny, if you had just cycled here as fast as I did. Not that anyone would ever accuse you of getting much exercise…” Do not provoke him, Lea, it’s just what he wants!

  He lit up the cigarette and took a deep drag, choosing his words very carefully. “Nah, I’m not like you, Lea. I don’t go chasing men on my bike. First Mads at the Kayak Club and now Bent here at the Kro? Make your mind up, woman. Who’s next in line? Young Gustav? Or, hey, there’s always me… How about it, beautiful?”

  Lea felt like she had been physically slapped in the face. The parts of Lea’s face that weren’t already red changed to crimson. She fleetingly considered making a biting remark about Johnny and Karin but, being the nice girl she was, the thought stayed right there inside her head. She simply kept walking towards the Kro and opened the main door, trying to hold her head as high as possible.

  Lea stamped her boots on the mat and smoothed down her hair the best she could. She caught her reflection in the reception mirror and was dismayed to find that Johnny was right: her face was the colour of a beetroot. No sight or sound of Bent or anyone else, Lea headed into the bar, pulled towards the sound of lounge music. Candles still burned at the tables and there was a comforting aroma of bacon about the place, but the Kro was now essentially empty after the short, sharp lunchtime rush. A couple of businessmen in dark suits sat by the bay window with empty plates in front of them, finishing their drinks. She could see from the small frying pan on the table that one of them had ploughed through today’s dish of the day, æggekage med flæsk. Freshly-cooked omelette topped with strips of crispy bacon, slices of fresh tomato and finely chopped chives. Tine’s stomach rumbled – she had completely missed lunch due to Mads’ appearance and Bent’s disappearance. She was just about to leave when there was a noise from behind the bar and a small head popped up.

  “Hi, poppet! You gave me a right fright, you did. I was just cleaning out the bottles back here. In for a late lunch are you? The kitchen’s closed, but I’m sure we can fix you up with something nice. What can we get you—”

  “Thanks, Lisbeth, that’s really kind, but I’m not here for lunch. I’m actually just in looking for Bent. He was supposed to
call me earlier and now I can’t get through to him. You haven’t seen him by any chance, have you?”

  “No, poppet. He hasn’t been in here today. But nothing unusual in that, he normally comes in later in the day. Want me to give him a message?”

  “No, I’m sure he’ll be in touch. Probably got tied up somewhere. No big deal.”

  Lisbeth was immediately on high alert. “Not like you to be out looking for him. Is something up, poppet?”

  Lea tried her best to diffuse the situation. If she was worried, Lisbeth would break into a full scale panic. “I’m sure he’s fine. Really. It’s just me overreacting after what happened to… Well, you know.”

  Lisbeth clutched a bottle of Gammel Dansk to her chest. “Oh my God, yes. I hope he hasn’t gone missing too. I just couldn’t bear it!”

  “Who’s gone missing, my love?” Karsten returned, carrying a fresh supply of white damask table cloths.

  “Bent!”

  “Bent’s gone missing?” Karsten put down the cloths and hitched up his trousers. “Is this true, Lea?”

  “It’s probably nothing. Honestly, Karsten, it was silly of me to come out. He’s probably just delayed. You know what he’s like when he’s with one of his ladies.”

  “The old devil, yes! Lisbeth, my love, don’t worry that pretty little head of yours, we’ll get to the bottom of this. Just tell us who Bent’s hooked up with at the moment? Is it Gerda or Elvira?” He winked at Lea. “Or maybe it’s both!”

  Lisbeth put the Gammel Dansk down on the bar and steadied her trembling hands on it. “E-E-E-Elvira, I think.”

  Karsten put a protective arm around her. “There, there, my love. You see, we’re making progress already. Have you got her phone number? Great, probably best if I give her a call. You just sit down here.” He took the phone from Lisbeth’s shaking hand.

  Lea remembered her own phone and fished it out of her pocket. Still nothing. She wasn’t sure what was more infuriating or worrying, the lack of contact from Bent, or Daniel.

  Karsten nodded and paced the floor. “…two hours ago? Thanks, Elvira. Yes, I know, but you can’t tell him can you? A stubborn old goat. Once he gets hold of something, he hangs on for dear life and won’t let go. Ha ha – that’s what she said last night! Let me just check.” He signalled to Lisbeth that he wanted a pen. “Yes, 4 pm next week should be fine. How many? Righty-ho. I’ll put down twelve – I know what an appetite you and your girls have. Ha ha, yes! I’m sure that’s what Bent said last night! Okay, thanks – ciao!”

  Lisbeth looked at Lea, who rolled her eyes. Karsten switched off the phone and gave Lisbeth a hug.

  “I’m better than Barnaby – mystery solved!”

  “So he is alive then? He’s with Elvira?” Lisbeth still looked panic stricken.

  “He was with Elvira last night, he left her this morning—”

  “But where is he now?” Lisbeth wasn’t comforted at all.

  “Let me finish, my love! Elvira said he left there about two hours ago. Said he was heading for the Vikings, to fix the door of the storage hut. You know, where Ellen got stuck that time.”

  “But why didn’t he call me? He promised to come round first thing this morning.” Lea, while relieved that Karsten had managed to locate the oldest swinger in town, felt rather foolish having set the whole of Strandvig upside down looking for him.

  “Elvira told him he should call you before you left. But you know what he’s like, Lea. Said he was in a hurry.”

  “But if that was two hours ago, surely he should be finished by now? Why doesn’t he answer his bloody phone?”

  “Perhaps the oldest swinger in town is off on another, ahem, job? Shall I try phoning Gerda?”

  “No, thanks, Karsten. I’ll try the Vikings.” She wrapped her scarf around her neck and pulled on her gloves. “Just wait until I get my hands on him.”

  Lisbeth looked worried. “You won’t hurt him, will you, poppet?”

  CHAPTER 50

  There was no-one at the Vikings today. The sea had frozen over and Helle, backed by the Committee, had officially closed the club for the next five days. Or until the Danish weather Gods looked down with mercy at the bathers and allowed a partial thaw – just enough to be able to cut a decent sized hole in the ice. The Vikings were disappointed that they wouldn’t have their daily dose of icy seawater, but respected the laws of nature. Patience was most certainly a virtue.

  The main gate was locked and for a moment Lea was disappointed, thinking that the bird had flown the premises. But she could see bike tracks and footprints on the other side. Her phone still showed nothing. Not a peep from Bent. Or, even worse, from Daniel – the suspense was killing her. She let herself in, pulling her bike with her.

  She was looking forward to her confrontation with Bent. Just like the wife in Tam O’ Shanter, Lea had been ‘nursing her wrath to keep it warm’ during the hour she had been trying to track him down. Not that she planned to use any physical force. Lisbeth, upset at Bent’s disappearance, but also concerned by what Lea might do to him – if and when she located him – had needed a good few minutes of soothing talk from Karsten and Johnny before she had allowed Lea to leave their premises. No, Lea had repeatedly assured her, she only wanted to give Bent a good telling off. À la Holy Helle.

  Lea leant her bike against the fence and carefully made her way across the icy boards. She tried the doors of the bathing huts and the sauna. Everything was locked down, as was to be expected, but nonetheless it felt uncannily quiet. And yet, if the club had been open for business, with bathers turning up within the next few minutes, she would have revelled in the silence and the chance to have the place all to herself. She shivered and pulled her scarf up further around her ears, anything to keep the wind out, and continued round the back towards the storage hut. There – lo and behold – was Bent’s bike. And the club toolbox. But where on earth was the man himself? The jetty was deserted.

  “Bent! Bent!” She felt silly calling out with only the seagulls to hear her. C-l-a-n-g! The noise of the main gate banging. Lea jumped out of her skin and turned to look but no-one was there. She hadn’t bothered to lock the gate behind her and it must have blown open. She was getting sick and tired of this. “Bent?!”

  “Hallo?” A muffled voice and came from inside the hut.

  “Bent? It’s Lea!”

  “What? Hallo?” A noise of shuffling footsteps.

  “Are you in there?” Lea rattled on the door handle, but to no avail. “It’s me – Lea!”

  “Pull, Lea Mus! For God’s sake!”

  “Okay, okay, keep your hair on!” This is the thanks I get? She pulled hard but the door wouldn’t budge. She put her head right next to the door and shouted.

  “It’s stuck! Which is lucky for you, Bent Bang, because I’ve got a bone to pick with you.”

  “I know the door’s stuck, Lea Mus.”

  “Then why on earth didn’t you call me? I’ve been all over Strandvig.”

  “My phone’s outside. In the toolbox.”

  Lea looked down and started to laugh. “Oh, Bent, wait until Holy Helle hears about this!”

  Bent banged the door. “Lea, I want you to phone Daniel! Quickly!”

  Lea leaned against the door, immensely enjoying that Bent was in a pickle. And she had no intention of phoning Daniel, whatever the emergency. “Oh calm down, would you. I hardly think we need to call in the Strandvig police force for this one. Let me call Johnny or Mads to come and—”

  Bent’s voice went up a scale. “No, not Johnny!”

  Lea leaned forward. “Okay, okay, keep your beanie on. I’ll call Mads—”

  Bent now went into falsetto. “Not Mads. DANIEL. Do it NOW. I know who killed Stig!”

  Okay, now he’s losing it. “Bent, have you been drinking?”

  “No, Lea Mus. Ama’r halshug! Listen to me. I could smell smoke when I went into the storage hut the morning we found Stig.”

  “Uh huh?” Lea was wondering whether she shouldn’t be
calling an ambulance. Perhaps it was hypothermia? After all, the daft old bird had probably been in there for over an hour.

  “I recognised the smell, Lea Mus.”

  Lea looked behind her at the toolbox, briefly considering trying to break Bent out herself. But maybe he needed medical assistance? It would be good to have back up. She fished her phone out of her bag and took off her gloves. Daniel or Mads. Hmm – which one? “Bent, what are you on about?”

  Bent’s voice was calmer now. “The only person who had been in here that week was Ellen, and she doesn’t smoke.”

  “Obviously.” Lea decided to call Mads. He would be back at the Kayak Club by now and would know what to do. And he was Bent’s friend after all. Mads would probably see her call and think that she had changed her mind, all ready to run right back to him and his ‘chilled white wine’. Ha – that’ll serve him right!

  “Lea, we know the killer was in here. He took the hammer from the toolbox. Probably the bottle of Gammel Dansk too.”

  “The killer smokes and drinks? Bent, honestly. You’ve just described most of Strandvig—” Lea decided she would call Mads. Daniel would think Bent was completely off his rocker.

  “Mads and Johnny used to come here to the hut when they were just lads. Call Daniel! NOW! Do you hear me, Lea Mus?!“

  “Hi beautiful, need some help?” Lea almost cricked her neck, so fast it spun round, to find Johnny standing behind her, large as life. He was grinning from ear to ear and holding up a monkey wrench from the tool box.

  Lea immediately forgave Johnny for being such an idiot back at the Kro – help was help, wherever it came from. “Oh my God, Johnny – you gave me such a fright. Where on earth did you come from?”

 

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