The Ice Cage — A Scandinavian Crime Thriller set in the Nordic Winter (The Baltic Trilogy) (8 page)

12

I needed to do one last thing for my father to better understand him. It was the least I could do
,
a personal farewell before returning ho
me. I simply couldn’t leave Carrie
alone any lon
ger. A
couple of extra days in
Mariehamn
would nev
er b
e enough to catch up with 20
lost years
anyway
. I felt
bad about rushing things, but I
h
ad to get back. I rang Carrie
to c
heck how
she was.
She said the
baby hadn’t dropped out yet, but i
t wouldn’t be long and s
he was getting really worried
. I couldn’t wait to join her in
London
.
I wanted to be there for her, protect h
er,
help her through the pain. I wouldn’t be long now.

I didn’t tell
her about my
little
plan, because I knew she wouldn’t have approved.
She would
have said I was mad, but I was determined to go through exactly what my father had gone through. I needed a ritual
and this had been his.

I had a coffee back at the house before grabbing a towel and a bottle of aquavit. Darkness was falling quicker than expected as I drove off in my father’s car. It didn’t matter
,
because
I
wouldn’t be long. O
r so I thought.

13

Eva
was patrolling
the late shift
alone
and had
stopped for a break at the n
orthern junction.
As she was pouring the
umpteenth
refill from the
thermos, she thought it was time to
stop drinking so much coffee. It made her edgy.
She didn’t mind working nights, especially as t
here was nothing else to
do on this godforsaken island.

What she did mind was the
lack of men. The few decent ones were taken
and s
he wouldn’t touch
a married man
with a bargepole. Timo cheating on her was the reason she’d demanded to be transferred from
Helsinki
five years ago. Then there’d been Ernst, another mista
ke
she
had to cope with
every day
. S
he’d sworn to herself n
ever
to
get involved
with a colleague
again
. She hadn’t been with anyone for two years
, but
she
was still glad she’d come to
Mariehamn
.
It was a dream place for sailing and skating. Eva had brought
her mother and at least she
’d met a ma
n in Mariehamn
.
Maybe
Rudolf
was a bit pompous, but unlike many older men
he wasn’t chasing 20
-
year olds and
, most importantly,
Eva’s mother w
asn’t alone any more.

A car looking
like Sandberg’s Skoda
shot past
, bu
t Sandberg
was dead, unless it was his
son
–
Magnus.
S
miling to herself
,
she thought that she’d
enjoyed frisking him
–
o
ne of the few perks
of being a police officer
. But
what was he
doing driving in the middle of the night?
Or was
the car stolen
?
Too many questions,
she ne
eded to check it
out. Eva quic
kly emptied her mug and set off.
She’d have to guess at the next junction, but she’
d find the car
in the end. N
one of the roads went very far.

1
4

I parked the car facing the bay and sat staring at the
headlight
beams
for a while
before turning
them
off. Once my eyes had adjusted to the d
arkness, I could see
thanks to the moonlight
.
Before getting out,
I had a
last
sip of my father’s aquavit, not
Scandinavia
’s finest, but good enough
for heating
purposes. I walked over to the
hole to have a look, but it was
completely iced over and I’d
forgotten to
bring something to crack it with
.

I took the warning triangle from the boot, walked
back
to the hole and bashed the
newly
-
formed layer of
ice.
When
I r
eturned to the car,
I stopped
halfway
to take in the surroundings
, t
rying to imagine my father in the same spot
.

The ice was a giant dance floor reflecting the mo
onlight, with
t
he snow
-
covered pines wafting
in the shadow
s
, too shy to dance in the spotlight. They were the last living beings he’d seen before dying. They’d witnessed my father’s death and lived here night and day all y
ear round without ever moving
. I wished they could speak to me.

My conversations with Dahl and Thor had convinced me to do this. It was only by doing what my father had done
–
what he’d ‘had to do’ according to his friends
–
that I could truly understand him and
override
whatever cultural barriers there were between us. I wanted to experience what had been normal for him
,
his essence
. Retracin
g his last moments
would help bridge the gap. I knew I’d
never be able to completely step into his shoes, but this would definitely bring
me
closer
. The swimming had been something he
’d cared
so much
about that
it had killed him
.

The silence was total except for the
polar
wind.
I had another
confidence
-
boosting
sip of aquavit
before undressing and leaving my clothes in the
car
boot.
Once I’d shut it, I rushed to the hole with the towel as
my
only protection. It was freezing. Only a madman would do this and I was hoping
that
my father
could see
what his son was putt
ing himself through.

When I touched the water it was absolutely glacial. This wasn’t a time to hesitate
. E
very
second counted, b
ut would I be able to get out? Didn’t I need ic
e prods? E
very good Scandinavian knows
that
prods a
re for skaters who fall through thin ice that keeps breaking
when they try
to climb back up.
I invoked the solidity of the ice to reassure myself. It
was thick.
I would be fine.
At least that was the theory,
now the practice.

I hesitated again
. Why was I doing this? Why expose myself to the cold? Was I completely
crazy
? I could simply get back into the warmth of the car. No, it didn’t matter that it seemed stupid, because it wasn’t, not to me. My father had done it, so I was going to do it. I had to, I was about to
.
I was.

I took a deep breath before slipping into the water. At first
,
it felt
like
I was
choking and
I
gasped for air
,
but
I
forced myself to stay in long enough to feel the cold compressing me. I was shrinking and couldn’t move. My limbs felt heavy. I
had to get out
.
I would have preferred to scramble, but I was semi
-
paralysed and shaking.
I tried to drag myself up
but slipped back into the water just as I was getting a first knee on the ice.
Now t
he water felt even icier
.
The first attempt
had demanded a huge effort and I had to pull myself together f
or a new try
. I needed to recover
,
but it was impossible in the icy water. I was trapped and started to panic. I should definitely have taken prods.
Too late now.
I tried pushing myself up
with my
palms
. I gave everything
–
it was my last chance
–
and eventually managed to get both k
nees on the ice
. I
crawl
ed
away from the hole
as carefully as I could, determined not to slip back in
.

I dried myself
as best I could, but m
y fingers were so stiff I could barely hold the towel.
I’d never been so cold in my whole life. I had to rub the towel
against my body with my palms.
Somehow I was enjoying the ordeal
,
in the knowledge that the warmth of the car was only meters away. It was like an out of body experience. If only I’d had a sauna.
T
he penny almost dropped
,
s
omet
hing
almost clicked into place, but then it was lost
. I was too cold, too rushed
to remember
. Maybe it woul
d come back once I’d warmed up.

I hurri
ed back to the car and pulled the door open. I didn’t. It was stuck.
I tried again, t
o no avail. The front door
wouldn’t budge either
.
I tried the other side, but all the doors were locked. The key must be in my trouser pocket
–
i
n the boot
.
I grabbed the handle. I
t was
immovable
too
. I could see, almost touch, my trousers lyi
ng in the warmth of the Skoda
. We were only separated by a thin sheet of glass. I
ran
a
round the car trying
all the doors and the boot once more
. They
were definitely, firmly and unquestioningly
locked. How could this have happened? How could the car lock its
elf? What had I done?!
What
the fuck
was I going to do? There was no way I could walk back to t
he nearest village. I was naked at
-
15
°C
, n
ot to mention the wind factor. I rubbed mys
elf frantically with the towel, but
it was encrusted with ice and
m
y hai
r had already formed an icecap.

My only hope was to find a summer cottage and break into it. God knows where the nearest house was. I couldn’t remember seeing any on the way
out
.
I would
last
an hour
max at this
temperature without clothes
and I’d already wasted
precious minutes
. The countdown had started an
d
my body temperature was dropping fast. How
much would be left of me in
an hour? Would my nose freeze off? My fingers, toes, feet? The prospects were grim and I was scared shitless. I was pan
icking
,
because I could see where this was going and I
didn’t want to u
nderstand my father this well.

Eventually,
I realised how dumb I was.
All I had to do was
smash
the windscreen. I looked for a
small
rock, but
it was harder than I though
t
. T
he snow was icy under the topcoat and it was impossible to penetrate the ice with my fingers.
I tried hacking with the
emergency
triangle, but it broke. Meanwhile,
m
y fingers were getting weaker by the second. I finally managed to get a grip on a large block of ice and hurled it at the side window. The ice split
,
n
ot the windo
w. The car remained immaculate, indifferent, and
I was get
ting
seriously cold. My limbs were numb and I couldn’t
even
feel my feet.