Out of the Ice (35 page)

‘Is there
really
an entrance into the cinema?’ he asked, amazed.

‘I don’t know. I hope so.’ It was only the slightest thread of a hunch. It seemed unlikely to me that Helen’s brother had fallen directly through the ice into a tunnel; more likely he’d gone underground, where something awful had happened.

Santo stopped suddenly. ‘I think here,’ he murmured, and turned into a tight passage that was so dark I hadn’t noticed it. ‘I’ve always wondered where this one went,’ he said.

I flicked on my torch and the beam lit the way like a beacon. There was a flight of narrow stairs, rising steeply. We clambered up about thirty steps, having to take great care not to slip. The steps were poorly made, and dangerous. At the top, there was a landing, and a small steel door, crawl-height, blocked the way. I tried to open it but it was locked from outside. There was nothing I could unlatch from this direction. Santo swore under his breath.

‘Stand back,’ I said, and started to kick as hard as I could. Santo wanted to help, and when I was completely out of breath he took over. He was making a loud clanging, and when he tired, there was silence for a moment. And then there was clanging from the other side, the sharp twang of metal on metal. Someone was trying to hammer the lock open. I froze.

Santo grabbed my hand and pulled me back as the door swung inwards, nearly knocking us off our feet.

Torchlight slashed my eyes. I couldn’t see who was there.

But I knew the voice.

‘She’s here,’ said Kate. ‘With a boy.’

‘I’ll help you out.’ The torchlight swung away and Travis grinned down. Relief surged through me as he reached in and took my hands.

‘Santo first.’ I stepped back. ‘This is Travis,’ I said to Santo. ‘A good friend.’

Santo sprang into Travis’s arms and Travis barked with laughter.

Then as Travis pulled me out I felt a wave of fear. ‘Where are the seals?’

‘Gone. In the harbour. There were just a few and sorry, we did have to scare them out when we heard you banging.’

‘How did you know I’d come here?’ I looked around the dark cinema, wanting to check for myself we weren’t in danger from the bull seal. The room stunk of seal but there were none in residence.

‘You kept thinking there was an opening here,’ said Kate.

‘Well, here and everywhere else.’

‘We should go,’ said Travis urgently, pulling out a satellite radio. ‘Okay, Reggie, you’re on!’

Kate and Travis led us to the bay. As we ran, Santo gripped my hand so tightly I lost blood flow. I could hear an approaching plane, and a Twin Otter with floats flew low overhead. It landed in the sea, close to shore, and cut its engine.

‘We’ll have to swim,’ called Travis.

‘Can you swim?’ I asked Santo. He shook his head, terrified.

‘Just go limp in my arms. I’ll tow you.’

We rushed towards the icy water. It was so cold we would last only minutes – but I knew from Polar Plunges that we’d be okay, if we were quick. In the distance, men came running. One was tall and lanky – Jasper. Another was unmistakably Simon. He raised his right arm towards us and there was a glint of metal just before an almighty crack rang out.

We lunged, as one, into the sea. The chill hit me so hard that I almost stopped breathing. Santo’s eyes filled with panic and then he flung back and went limp in my arms, and I towed him the few metres to the plane. Reg – the pilot I’d been told never to fly with, who’d helped uncover everything – hauled Santo on board, and then me, as Kate and Travis were hauled in by Moose. There were towels and blankets waiting. Reg slipped into the cockpit, and the engine spluttered to life. I shielded Santo with my body, willing the plane to take off as shots whirled past. Simon – seemingly the only one with a gun – thankfully had a poor aim.

After long moments we were airborne, heading out over the sea.

‘We’re going to Base Martinez,’ said Travis. ‘They’re waiting for us.’

‘How do you know?’ I asked, confused.

‘David White’s been in contact.’

‘Do you know where he is now?’

‘No. But all hell broke loose when you arrived.’ Travis grinned, and I noticed how blue his eyes were, the same colour as the cobalt water below us. Kate reached across and held Santo’s hand. ‘We’ve been looking everywhere for you, mate.’

Santo nodded awkwardly and nestled into me, his teeth chattering from cold. I dried his hair and wrapped him in three blankets. He opened up the woolly mass and snuggled me under with him. Then he leaned his head on my shoulder and closed his eyes.

22

B
arbara Preston, a British detective who specialised in child abuse, and Doctor Mariano Ramos, an Argentinian child psychiatrist, met us at Base Martinez. They ushered us into a warm room and gave us dry clothes. Santo wouldn’t leave my side. Over the next hour they quietly, gently interrogated him in a recorded interview.

I sat close, worried about David, who I hadn’t heard from, and horrified by what Santo was revealing. He spoke in fluent English, which he’d learned from his teacher – the ghost in Ingerline’s blue and white dress – and he’d also taught himself Norwegian. He was shy with the other adults, his voice a whisper.

‘Harold and Simon would choose one boy from each group. There were three groups who came while I was there.’

‘That is Harold
Connaught
and Simon
Huxtable
,’ said Barbara into the tape recorder.

My skin crawled at the thought of Simon: a victim himself, having been abused by Connaught as a child, who went on to perpetuate the cycle.

How was my father involved?

Santo’s narrow shoulders were rigid. ‘Simon and Harold would take boys to a shed they kept locked.’

I pictured the pile of old mattresses we’d seen in the one locked shed we’d come across and a painful cramp swept through my stomach.

‘Did you go in the shed?’ I asked, not knowing if I could bear the answer.

‘No. But the chosen boy would come back and tell one of us. The rest would warn each other. When I didn’t leave with my group last week, I knew it was my turn.’ Santo put his warm hand in mine. I gripped it tightly.

‘Are you comfortable to talk about this?’ asked Doctor Ramos in a deep, resonant voice.

‘Yes.’ Santo nodded, his brown eyes wide. ‘I knew they liked me from the start. When we stayed in the houses after our injections, they’d come down. They brought me potato chips and lemonade. We’d do things together, like change sheets on beds, carry chairs from house to house, sit around and eat in one kitchen and then another. They dressed half of us in old-fashioned clothes, and the rest of us in normal stuff. I don’t know why; something to do with how we’d cope with the cold. One week, we carried cigarettes from the tunnels and put them in a house, because they’d found us smoking them, and that wasn’t allowed. Sometimes we’d do repairs on the houses. Sometimes we’d just stay and sleep. That’s when they took Felipe away. He cried so much when he came back. Simon flew him off after that and we didn’t see him again. Then it was Jose Miguel. He left last week. They’d given Felipe and Jose Miguel potato chips too.’ Tears flooded his eyes; he shuffled his chair closer to mine and leaned in, his bony shoulder sticking into me. I wrapped my arm around him.

‘My
whole group
left except me,’ he said, starting to tremble, his face crumpling. ‘I’d been down there for ten months. I wanted to go so badly.’ I hugged him to me, rocking us back and forth.

Dr Ramos passed Santo a tissue and he blew his nose.

‘Did they come down again then? Simon and Harold?’ asked Barbara.

Santo shook his head. ‘No. Everything changed. New boys arrived with Snow, but people were nervous. Doctor Mike kept giving us injections, but Simon and Harold didn’t come. And you’d gone, Laura.’ He pronounced my name the Spanish way. I felt a surge of love, even as my head reeled from just having heard my father’s name. Doctor Mike, my father the medical scientist, giving injections to innocent boys they kept trapped in the ice; boys who were being abused at the whim of monsters. Was my father part of that too? Bile rose in my throat, burning sharply.

‘I couldn’t see you in the cameras any more,’ said Santo, looking up at me. ‘I thought you’d left me.’

So there
were
cameras. Well-hidden, like everything else.

‘I’d never do that,’ I said.

‘So no one touched you?’ asked Doctor Ramos gently. Barbara watched closely.

‘No. But they would have.’ Santo sat up straight. ‘Harold and Simon would have if Laura hadn’t found me.’

I thought of Georgia: her actions had saved Santo from abuse from which he would never have recovered.

‘Did Snow touch the boys?’ asked Doctor Ramos.

‘No,’ said Santo.

‘And Doctor Mike?’

I held my breath, fighting another wave of nausea.

‘No.’ Santo leaned back into me.

But surely my father must have known what was going on?

‘Santo, I’ll be back.’ I raced out, just made it to the bathroom, and vomited. I couldn’t stop thinking about my father, the person I’d admired above everyone. What kind of man was he?

•  •  •

I walked slowly outside, gulping the cold, clear air, and phoned my mother, needing to tell her about my father, hoping somehow she could make me feel better about myself. I was his bloodline; he was a part of me. Had she suspected all along what he was really like? Had she been protecting me all these years?

‘Hello?’ The voice was deep and slurred. I checked the number – it was Mum’s.

‘It’s Laura. Can I speak to my mother, please?’

‘Laura, it’s me.’

I froze. ‘Mum, what’s wrong? You sound dreadful.’

‘I’ve just come out of surgery.’

‘What for?’

‘If you’d called, you would have known. I was diagnosed with breast cancer.’

My legs felt hollow. I needed to sit, but I was standing on ice. ‘So they operated?’

‘Yes.’

‘Did they get it all?’

‘Well, I hope so. I’ll have to have chemo for a few weeks, and then tablets for the next two years. But the prognosis is positive. They’re very good. Cancer treatment’s moved in leaps and bounds, you know.’

Because of research done by clever people like my father and Snow
. No doubt they were convinced they were advancing medical science. And they probably were. Unethically. Trapping children. Turning a blind eye to the despicable actions of the two men they needed onside: the Base Commander and the Chief Pilot.

‘Are you sure you’ll be okay?’ I asked, tears rolling, fat and wet, down my face.

‘Laura, when will you be home?’

‘I’m so sorry. I’ll come as soon as I can.’ I couldn’t stop crying, my body shaking, as she hung up.

23

I
tucked Santo into a soft bed in a bright blue room at Base Martinez. ‘Buenas noches,’ I said, as a surge of tenderness shot through me. He looked up with wide, tired eyes. ‘Laura – thank you,’ he replied, his voice hoarse with exhaustion. He squeezed my hand, and I felt the hot prickle of my tears. Within seconds Santo’s breathing fell into the gentle rhythm of deep sleep. My phone beeped with a text from David.

‘All safe. Will be in touch.’

My shoulders relaxed a little, but I wished he’d given more details. I was very relieved to hear from him.

I found the mess hall, a huge room abuzz with scientists and tradespeople speaking Spanish, loudly. Travis and Kate were eating dinner, a bottle of whisky glowing amber on the table in front of them. Kate’s eyes were swollen from crying; Travis was sombre. After phoning my mother, and with Santo out of earshot because he was still with Doctor Ramos and the detective, I had relayed the awful news about Georgia.

I distractedly chose a plate of paella, and sat down to quiz Travis about what he did and didn’t know. Kate listened, swaying slightly, a little drunk.

‘I got wind of a tunnel,’ said Travis. ‘It was rumoured to start to the east of base, about twenty minutes out, and people were saying vehicles were going down there. Moose and I thought it might lead to Fredelighavn, and we searched for an entrance, but we couldn’t find anything. That’s what I was trying to hint at before you left for Nantucket.’

Travis’s tan had deepened while I’d been away, and the shadow of stubble on his face brought out the strength in his jaw. ‘But what I
did
discover was fuel-oil in the tanks at Fredelighavn, and that convinced me there was something underground. A mirror-world with its own electricity.’

‘That was a brilliant idea of yours to check in the tanks,’ I said, and he glanced at me with such proud intensity my stomach fluttered.

‘You know Rutger high-tailed it back to Berlin as soon as Georgia left,’ said Kate, sniffling.

Tears started to flow down my cheeks at the thought of Georgia. Travis’s eyes misted up.

‘Anyway,’ Kate said, blowing her nose, ‘I headed down to camp with the penguins. And Travis came every night to check that I was safe. We’d go into Fredelighavn and keep searching for entrances.’ She grinned slightly, focusing on me. ‘Travis drove me to distraction because he wouldn’t stop talking about you.’

Travis blushed scarlet and my whole body tingled in a way that wasn’t at all suitable for a sister towards a brother. A sob erupted out of me, and Travis rubbed my back soothingly with his warm, strong hand.

‘I did some more sleuthing at base, too,’ he said. ‘Eventually I found a couple of guys who reckoned that Jasper has a liking for date-drugging girls. He’s never been caught, but last summer there were evidently two incidents, and Jasper was close by when they happened. He didn’t follow through with anything, it seems he just likes scaring women, so the whole thing was swept under the carpet.’

I shuddered, remembering my lost day – and how Jasper had volunteered to be with us in the lab. What sort of kick had he been getting out of it?

‘Seems I was right about him being the one who slipped something into your whisky,’ said Kate, her green eyes bloodshot.

‘Then I’ll be reporting him for that,’ I said firmly. ‘Travis, do you think the men will talk to the detectives?’