The Ice Cage — A Scandinavian Crime Thriller set in the Nordic Winter (The Baltic Trilogy) (36 page)

73

He’d found the perfec
t launch pad in the museum. The word museum
meant ‘seat of the muses’ and as such they
ought to be sources
of inspiration and celebration
.
T
hey’d lost their place in the amnesic and future
-
obsessed society
of today
.
He believed they should be at the centre of social life and not
just sit there collecting dust.

A historical mu
seum was a gateway to the past, a
laboratory for historical experiments. Controlling the traces of the past meant mastering the pr
esent. Google had understood and
were
copying artefacts like there’s no tomorrow
. History was the future.

It had taken time
,
but he’d eventually landed the
Mariehamn
posting. Åland was ideal
–
a
S
wedish reserve, a
micro culture protected from polluting multicultural
and Marxist
influences. Its population wanted to be Swedish
, but t
heir wish had been rejected by the League of Nations who had given the archipelago to
Finland
in 1921
out of
misplaced guilt
.
There was no doubt Åland belonged to
Sweden
.
The decision
to give it to
Finland
had made the Ålanders more Swedish than the Swedes.
They were the last outpost of the great
17th century
Sweden
.
Their Swedishnes
s was a desire, a longing,
even a
n ideal. It wasn’t as lazy and watered down as constitutional
Sweden
. It was alive
. T
he island mentality preserved Swedish culture in a way that wasn’t possible on the mainland. Åland had the innocence and freshness of 1960s
Sweden
. And he’d met Riita
here
–
the
perfect woman: d
edicated
, traditional
and with a daughter in the police force.
Of course, h
e’d never t
old her about his extreme ideas, n
ot until th
e business with Henrik. He’
d been too weak. He’d hoped
to be
able to talk sense into R
iita, but h
e couldn’t. He should have dealt with her immediately. He woul
dn’t repeat the mistake
.

His museum suggested a story
told
through carefully orchestrated artefacts, myths and documents. The museum
showed how Åland was a
victim of
Finland
, whereas
Sweden
was its f
aithfully supportive neighbour, i
ts soul mate. Åland was Swedish at heart.
It was q
uintessential
Sweden
. The
Sweden
he represented didn’t exist
any more. It was an ideal
Sweden
and rebuilding
i
t required sacrifices
,
which he was making
. This was his calling
and h
is cause went beyond national borders. It was an anti
-
communist crusade to stop the bastardisation of culture. Men all around the Baltic shared his ideas, men who were proud of their nations
,
bu
t feared
the dissolution of
local communities and cultures.

A great admirer of Putin, he saw
Russia
as one of the last ba
stions of European manhood. That’s where he’d followed
special
forces training with former Spetsnaz officers now sharing their sabotage and assassination expertise with anyone willing to pay. He couldn’t have used his holiday time better.
Not only did the intensive training hugely improve his assassination and covert operation skills,
but
t
he G
eneral
running the business
had
adhered to his cause and generously
delegate
d
a couple
of officers to
Mariehamn
.
Without t
he men sent by his backer, Boeck
w
ould
have had a hard time completing the project. They were discr
eet, efficient and knew how to deal with
trouble makers.
They did what they were told
and
had
made sure his preparation was the best
. The
G
eneral
was planning
to extend
his training ac
tivities to the
West and Boeck’s operation
would automatically lead to increased demand for c
utting
-
edge security expertise. Like him, the G
eneral disapproved of the
ongoing
emasculation of
the European man
.
Muslim extremists
were slowly taking over the World
thanks to Western tolerance and multicu
lturalism. This was deplorable
and t
he Russian
understood
t
he
fundamental
incompatibility of multiculturalism
and national
greatness.
Whatever means
deemed
necessary would justify the cause.

74

I looked down towards the ice.
It was dark, but I recognised the roar of
a snowmobile and saw its light beam.
It must be someone local
,
because it couldn’t have crossed the ferry canal.
Did
this mean that Boeck had
helpers on the Swedish side? The m
an stepped off the snowmobile and l
ooked at the snow
lit by the beam
.
He was clearly looking for something.
It hadn’t occurred to me
to erase
my footprints.
I’d simply been too exhausted to think straight a
nd I never believed we’d be fol
lowed to the island.

The man must
have
know
n
th
e island was deserted in winter, so
i
f he spotted tracks,
he knew
they
were
likely to be ours. He looked up towards th
e house. He
couldn’t see me in the dark
, but i
t wouldn’t be long as
Eva’s sail had left a wide trail. I needed a plan. The man made a quick call
,
before cli
mbing back onto the snowmobile and driving
through the trees towards the cottage. I grabbed a rusty spade and hid behind a tree. When he drove past, I w
hacked him with all my might, making him fall
off the snowmobile, but
he
was still conscious and reached for his inside poc
ket. His gun went off, but too late
,
as
I’d rushed onto him and crushed his face with the spade. I was furious, boiling with
fear and
anger
. He was screaming in pain while h
olding his ravaged face.

What gave
these people the right to kill and t
o turn me into a killer? He reached for his
gun again. He wasn’t giving up and
I forced myself to smash him on the head with the spade again.
I was disgusted with myself, but
this
was a question of survival.
He was still alive but agonising.

Trying not to t
hink, I snatched the gun and
shot him in the chest.
I
kept
sho
o
t
ing until he stopped groaning and then
chucked the gun
down the well. I was shaking. T
his wasn’t me. I couldn’t believe this was happening, but I had to keep going. I
took the spade and tried t
o dig a hole awa
y from the path. I
t was impossible in the frozen ground
and
I worked
myself into a
frenzy, hacking away in vain.
I cou
ldn’t do it
,
but kept going anyway, numb and in s
hock after killing
yet
another man. Was it possible to take lives and remain unchang
ed, u
naffected? I’d killed again
and t
his didn’t fee
l any better than the previous time
. If anything, the disgust was magnified. I couldn’
t breathe
,
because of the asthma which
was triggered
by
extreme
stress. I had to calm down
,
t
ry
not to think about what I’d done
.
I must breathe,
b
e methodical. I quickly checked on Eva before fleeing back into
the physicality of the digging, but I wasn’t getting anywhere
.
It was a dead end
and I
had to find another solution.
I dragged the body away and dumped it in a sh
ed behind the cottage.
He didn’t deserve
a proper burial.

He would be found, but that was the last of my worries. I’d killed in self
-
defence, hadn’t I? I cou
ldn’t have spared his life. I’
d
had
no choice. If someone had told me a week earlier that I’d be killing
people within
a few days
, I would have laughed it off. I wasn’t now. I blocked out all feelings. I wasn’t t
he killer type, or s
o I’d believed, but h
ad it been a self
-
delusion? Wouldn’t everyone kill if they had to? I didn’t have the answer.
All I knew was that driven by instinct,
I’d done what I had to do.
I fetched Eva o
nce I was
done with the man
.

75

The
welfare
system had made the Swedes
untrustworthy and disloyal. The
y
we
re
independent in the worst possible sense. They
never had
to commit
to anything or take any risks. They
were devoid of
any form of
family structure, be it professional or private
, which meant that they also lacked any sens
e
of
honour,
respect
or responsibility
.
They
’d ceased to be men
.
They didn’t need friends or neighbours, o
r
so
they thought.

He
was convinced that
the total
lack of moral principles
and solidarity
induced by social
-
democracy
was one of the main reasons of the contemporary decline. Swedes thought they a
cted in the interest of well
-
being, but individual well
-
being
req
uired community and commitment, attachment, not detachment
,
i
nterdep
endence, not independence. He
was about to reignite the
sense of community by stirring up people’s emotions.

76

Ev
a was too weak to hold on to me, so
I carried her out of the house,
put her in front on the snowmobile and held my arms around her to steer.
Before driving off
,
I
listened out for o
ther vehicles
,
but couldn’t hear anything. Eva
kept telling me to leave
her
. I
acted mechanically, ignoring her and
s
hut
ting down any emotions that hadn’t
yet
been
deep
-
frozen
. Eva was still cold and
lifeless
as we drove off, but a
t least she had dry clothes on now. She was blocking my view on the
snowmobile
,
so that
I constantly had to lean
sideways
to see ahead
.