The Ice Cage — A Scandinavian Crime Thriller set in the Nordic Winter (The Baltic Trilogy) (40 page)

83

I drove off with Andri and Ernst
banging on the car, shouting with their faces glued to the window. I
couldn’t shake them, not that
they wer
e particularly fast, but
I couldn’t f
ind the gears on the bloody car, a
prehistori
c, toad
-
like Saab with the gear
stick on t
he steering column. I kept
switching
back and fo
rth between first and third, with t
he car hiccupping along
in the process
. The
y
were shouting at me to stop, but
I
finally hit
second gear and took off
, leaving them in a cloud of exhaust fume
s
.

I
focused on getting out of Mariehamn
as fast as possible.
But why was that truck
coming straight at me? I dodged
it, leaving havoc behind. I mustn’t forget to driv
e on the right side of the road, o
r I wouldn’t drive far unnoticed. I wouldn’t drive far full stop
. I looked for a place to dump the car
, but the whole town
had been blocked off with
crowd control barriers, so
I couldn’t turn anywhere.
What the hell was going on?
What was there to control?
In a small
town
like Mariehamn
, it
meant I was
quickly out in the countryside, but I
still
didn’t know how to get to the dog lady’s house. I’d been ad
miring Eva’s driving and ignoring
the road wh
en we drove out there. And it had been dark
.
I wasn’t rea
dy for another ice crossing yet;
I needed t
o lay
low and work out a new escape route
first
.
Boeck
knew I was back on Ål
and and would have men
checking all ports
including
the airport.

Hearing police sirens
behind me
again
, I turned off into the woods
.
A
police car zipped past
followed by a black Je
ep Cherokee. I had to keep driving even though
e
verything h
urt
–
the injured foot, the bruises from the beatings, the missing toe, the absent finger, the cold, the lack of sleep, t
he
mental torture
..
. I
t was all too much and I
couldn’t
think
straight
. Driving deeper
into the forest, I rang Carrie
on the Saab woman’s mob
ile
. I missed
her
and i
t felt like I hadn’t talked to her in week
s. I should have
called earlier
,
but
I
hadn’t had time, which was partly an excuse, as part of me felt guilty
for the time spent with Eva
–
I felt a powerful bond with her after what we’d been through together. It had been such an
intense experience an
d Carrie
hadn’t been with me to share it.
What would Carrie
think if she heard about me being wanted by the Swe
dish police?

There was no reply, so I left a message
telling her
I was done
,
but that I wasn’t sure yet when I’d be home
.
It all depended on if I could find a s
afe way to get off the island, but I didn’t think she needed to know that.
I had to shout to make myself heard over the rattling two
-
stroke engine. Listening to me blaring down the phone, she w
ould think I’d gone bonkers.
I ha
d to tell her what was going on
before I wound up
dead
,
but I couldn’t tell her I was in danger without a plan.
I didn’t get the chance to finish the message.

‘
What the..?!
’

I piled
on the brake
s
, my head pressed against the ceiling.

84

There was an effing
moose
posted
in the middle of the forest track.
A crash would have killed us both, but I managed to stop the Saab only inches from its front legs. I was shaking, s
taring at him in shock,
the full
-
grown moose at me.
Moose were solitary beings and
difficult to tame
, but I remembered a man in
Mariehamn
who
’d
had one
when I was a kid
.
He
even let me ride
it once
and
I hadn’t seen one
since
. This
specimen
had spectacular
antlers
.
Their span must have be
en over two meters and it
must have weighed a least a ton.
Sitting there face
to face with such a beast
was intimidating.

Should I see it as a sign? A
reproach? I’d been shot
at and thought it extraordina
ry, while
this
moose and his mates w
ere hunted down every year without anyone worrying
about their stress level
s
. I couldn’t help seeing my father s
taring at me
–
t
hose
brown
eyes. Hadn’t the fisherman called him an ‘old moose’?

The moose broke my apathy and I exploded in anger.
What was I thinking? Of course,
I coul
dn
’t let Boeck get away w
ith it.
Eva had died
saving my life
.
Escaping away wasn’t an option.
I was furious
with myself for even considering giving up after what she’d done for me. I had to
finish what I’d started
, in the name of
E
va, my father and
Anna. It was more important than ever that I did everything I could to stop Boeck.
Otherwise,
I would always regret it and Boeck’s
victims would have died for nothing.
It
would all have been in vain
. It was the least I could do for my father
–
finish the job he started.

I don’t know how long we st
ared at each other
,
but the moose
never moved.
I had to
dri
ve round him
and
i
n hindsight
I wonder if it really happened, because w
hen I looked back in the mirror
there was no trace of him.
I did a double
-
take
,
but he was gone for good.

85

Looking for a different
way back to Mariehamn,
I continued through the forest until I hit a gravel road
.
I
tried t
o recall
Eva’s smooth dr
iving
,
as
mine
was more akin to survival
mode, mainly
about avoiding the ditch, b
ut I had a good excuse
–
I rarely drove in
London
.
In fact,
I rarely drove
full stop
. And i
t didn’t help th
at the Saab was underpowered, with
the non
-
assisted steering
killing
my arms, not to mention my injured foot suffering
from the con
sta
nt braking. I was too tense,
m
y driving too sti
ff. Suddenly there was a shock
, but
this time
it wasn’t my driving. When
I looked in the mirror
, I saw the
black Cherokee
up my arse, barging into me
.
It was so close that
I could see
the driver’s silhouette as we came
throug
h a bend
–
the
pony
tail.
Why wasn’t I surprised to
see
Andri
? I tried to control my panic and f
ocus on the driving.

I pushed the old toad to the max
, but the Jeep was way more
powerful
and 40 years younger
.
I kept blocking Andri
’s attempts to overtake
,
so
he nudg
ed me from behind
again
, trying
frantically
to force me off the road, but the old Saa
b’s
reliable
front wheel drive saved
me
. Realising
he wouldn’t be able to out
-
drive me, he start
ed shooting and
I was nearly hit several times, but the twists and turns made it difficult to aim. He couldn’t find a good an
gle to get at me or the
tyre
s
and
tried bashing
me again, but the S
aab stayed glued to
the narrow road and m
y confidence grew. Maybe
I’d be able to hold hi
m off until Mariehamn.
I
t would
certainly
be harder for him
to shoot at me in a busy street, not
that
I
was
convince
d that there was such a thing
in Mariehamn.
Saying that
,
the to
wn had actually been
blocked off
when I drove out
.
Something was up.
It
must be the multicultural festival
mention
ed on television,
the
festival o
pened by the King…
and
held
at Boeck’s museum, in spite of Boeck hating everything
multicultural, or
maybe precisely for that reason.

That must be it
–
Boeck’s ultimate opportunity
.
Ki
lling the King would be mad,
but Boeck was completely insane
. It made
perfect
sense after what
he’d said about Bernadotte being at the root of the Swedis
h decline.
Besides,
it was all I had to go on
and if I was wrong
,
the best place to find him would still be the museum. I couldn’t believe this was a coincidence. In fact
,
it wouldn’t have surprised me if he
’d
initiated
the multicultural fe
stival. As a host, he was in an
ideal position to prepare
an attack. He’d talked to
me about hitting
Sweden
at the top
of the establishment
and the head of state
was the ultimate symbol of Swedish power
.
I put the local radio on in case
they’d say something about the festival opening.

I needed to keep Andri behind
me
and ended up overdoing
it whe
n I saw the oncoming truck. I spotted
it too late
,
because I was
so
focused on covering my back
and too distracted by thoughts about the multicultural festival
. Trying to avoid the collision, I rolled out of the bend and
closed my eyes as the Saab
flew into the ditch. Praying was becoming a habit.