When You're Close, page 5
“I've never heard of a house killing someone,” Finn said, looking at Amelia. “Can you imagine the size of the jail they'd have to build?”
Amelia raised an eyebrow and shook her head. "May I apologize for my colleague.”
“No problem,” Frederick replied. “It's good to have someone around here who has a sense of humor.”
“It does seem odd, though,” Amelia said. “That in the 21st century people are so frightened of a place due to ghost stories."
"Maybe," Frederick conceded. "But this place has a way of getting inside your head. It makes you see things, hear things."
"Like banshees and hidden folk?" Finn asked, only half-joking.
Frederick's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "Those are just stories to scare children. But there's an energy here that even grown men don't want to challenge."
Finn exchanged a glance with Amelia. They both knew better than to dismiss local knowledge, especially when it aligned so closely with their own experiences. Even if there was almost always a conventional explanation, beliefs went a long way to motivating people into incredible, or terrible, acts.
"Thanks for bringing breakfast, Frederick. It's lovely," Amelia said, breaking the silence.
"Yes, thanks," Finn echoed, pushing away his empty plate. "I could definitely get used to that sort of thing, but then none of my Hawaiian T-shirts would fit, and that would be a damned shame. We've got a long day ahead of us."
Frederick nodded. "Of course. Lady Ferguson mentioned that she'll have someone show you to the crime scenes after breakfast. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask. I shall be here until about 5PM."
With that, Frederick retreated from the room, leaving Finn and Amelia alone again.
“Are we going to get that 'this place is so spooky, don't stray from the path' spiel every time we speak to someone here?” Finn asked.
“Like I told you before, Finn,” Amelia said. “Whether any of the stories are true, the point is that people believe in them enough, and that affects their behavior. It can make otherwise sane people make strange choices.”
“But could it make someone kill?” Finn asked.
“I've wondered that,” Amelia said. “I have a statement in this file from Ivar Ward's wife on the mainland.”
“Ivar Ward,” Finn said. “Have the police on the mainland been speaking with the dead fisherman's relatives?”
Amelia nodded.
"They have," Amelia confirmed. "According to his wife, he always spoke of the island with a kind of reverence mixed with fear. He'd always been warned by his elders to stay away from Huldra Island, especially after dark."
Finn raised an eyebrow. "So why did he come here the other night?"
"That's the question, isn't it?" Amelia replied, scanning the file. "It's clear he had reservations about the place. It could have simply been the storm that took him off course. But could something have drawn him here, or someone? If he came here deliberately, it would have taken a lot for him to do that, considering his apparent superstition about the place."
"Or maybe he simply didn't believe in the tales," Finn speculated. "People tend to grow out of childhood fears. He could have come here simply because he didn't fear anything, only to encounter someone out on the moors. We should try and look at the body. Is it still on the island?"
Amelia looked thoughtful. "Perhaps, but the human mind is a complex thing. Even if we outwardly dismiss something, it can linger in the recesses of our minds, influencing our actions in ways we might not even realize. And yes, the body hasn't been moved to the mainland as far as I know, but then these files have been cobbled together in the last couple of days, it's only a day or so since Ivar Ward was missing. We'll find out more when we liaise with local law enforcement."
“There's a police force here?”
“No,” Amelia answered. “There's only one town on Huldra Island, and then a few cottages and smaller settlements dotted around. There's no need for police here when only a few hundred people live here. Rob sent me a message to say that some police and forensics had been sent over from the mainland. They're only getting to look at things now since the storm was so bad.”
There was a momentary pause as the weight of Amelia's words settled. Then, the sound of a door opening at the far end of the corridor caught their attention. Both of them turned to see a woman in her early thirties entering the dining room. She was lean with curly dark hair and a rugged look about her, as if she'd spent a lot of time outdoors.
"Good morning," she greeted them with a slight nod. "You must be with the police? I'm Kirsty. Lady Ferguson sent me to take you around the island."
Finn extended his hand. "Finn Wright. This is Amelia Winters. A pleasure to meet you."
“It's nice to meet you, Kirsty,” Amelia said. “Do you work for the Ferguson estate?”
Kirsty shook both their hands firmly. "Likewise. I've been ferrying supplies and people to and from this island for years. My mother did it before me, and her mother before that. This place," she said with a hint of sadness, "has a pull. And not always a good one."
Finn was getting sick and tired of people talking about the malevolence of the place. He had an interest in the paranormal, but he was beginning to feel that the islanders weren't wanting to concede that one of them was a killers. Instead, it was as if they wanted to implicitly blame the island itself than take stock of that unnerving fact.
Amelia's brow furrowed. "Did you know Ivar Ward then?"
Kirsty nodded. "Yes, I knew him, briefly. And I heard he's the one they found down at the docks. That's so sad. A few around here had dealings with him, though only through trips to the mainland and Storn town where he lived. A lot of the islanders go back and forth from there for work and to meet relatives. Nice guy. It's a shame, really. No one expected him to end up on this island, not after the stories he grew up with. He always joked over on Storn that he'd never step foot on here."
"So, you're familiar with the tales of Huldra Island?" Finn inquired.
Kirsty's gaze turned distant. "All too familiar. But I've always treated them as tales. Maybe that's why I can come and go as I please. Respect the island, but don't fear it. It's more the treacherous weather that's the danger."
“Do you think Ivar Ward had any enemies?” Amelia asked.
“Not that I know of,” Kirsty answered. “But then, I only knew him to chat to occasionally.”
"Let us know if anything else springs to mind," Finn remarked. "Shall we?"
“Yes,” Kirsty said. “There are some police now tending to the crime scene, I believe. It's not far from here, so we can walk. If you want to go further, I have a car Lady Ferguson let's me use.”
Kirsty led them out of the mansion and down across the bleak glen of grass and rock, and as they walked, Finn couldn't help but notice how in-tune she seemed with the environment. Every so often, she'd pause, scanning the horizon or the ground beneath them, as if reading the island's mood.
They arrived at a cliff edge overlooking a secluded cove where the remains of Ivar Ward's boat protruded from the shallow water like a hand grasping for life. The boat had been torn to shreds, and below, police officers were carefully hoisting parts of it onto another boat.
"Low tide," Kirsty remarked. "Makes the job a bit easier. They've been at it since dawn."
Finn observed the scene, trying to piece together what had happened. "I don't suppose you were here when it all went down?"
Kirsty shook her head. "No, but I was one of the first to find out. The whole community is shaken. This wasn't an accident."
Amelia, who had been intently watching the police work below, turned to Kirsty. "We're here to find out exactly what it was. But we don't know this island, so the help of someone like you with local knowledge is invaluable."
The sharp scent of saltwater was in the air as Finn and Amelia approached the two uniformed police officers busily coordinating the retrieval of the boat fragments. The officers looked up as they approached, their faces a blend of exhaustion and concern.
"Morning," Finn greeted, flashing his badge. "I'm Finn Wright, a consulting detective with the Home Office, and this is Inspector Amelia Winters. We're here to assist with the investigation."
One of the officers, a stout man with a grizzled beard, nodded. "Inspector Reynolds, and this is Constable Peters. We're from the mainland, but this is a bit out of our usual jurisdiction."
Finn noted the reluctance in the sergeant's voice. "Have you spoken with the islanders about the incidents?"
Reynolds sighed. "We've tried, but most of them are tight-lipped. They don't want anything to do with this mess. Few words here and there, but nothing substantial."
Constable Peters chimed in, his young face filled with unease. "To be honest, Mr. Wright, I get the sense they're just waiting for us to leave. There's a discomfort here, and I get the feeling they just want all of this, including us, to disappear."
Amelia, brows furrowed, jumped in. "Where have the bodies of the victims been kept?"
Reynolds exchanged a glance with Peters, who cleared his throat. "Lord Carmichael, his body has already been taken to Storn mortuary for an autopsy, but the body of Mr. Ward... We've run into a bit of a complication."
Amelia's expression grew sharp. "What do you mean 'complication'?"
"It's... stuck," Peters said hesitantly. "Under the cliffs. Next to an old dock not far from Huldra House. It's in a tight spot. We're having trouble retrieving it. It wasn't safe to get at it until this morning because of the waves."
Finn's eyes widened. "Stuck? How does a body get stuck?"
Reynolds shrugged, discomfort evident. "We're not sure. But it's wedged under an old iron dock, almost like it's been purposefully jammed in there. One of the guys over there said he thinks he saw a chain attached to body. We've got a team trying to get to it, but the terrain's treacherous, especially with the recent storm damage. And I think there's issues because they don't have the right equipment."
Amelia's gaze darted to the cliffs looming above. "If you know Huldra a little, considering the body is underneath the cliffs behind Huldra House, could the death be related to the house?"
The two officers looked at each other.
“There's a lot of superstition around here, guys,” Finn said.
Peters rubbed the back of his neck and looked directly at Amelia. "Could be anything at this point, Inspector Winters. The stories of this place have been around for as long as anyone can remember."
"We need to see the body," Finn declared, urgency evident in his voice.
Kirsty, who had been observing quietly, nodded. "I can take you there. It's not a place many venture, even the locals, but I know the way."
Without waiting for a response, Finn started in the direction of the cliffs. Amelia shot a grateful look at Kirsty and followed suit.
As they made their way along the rugged coastline, the sound of crashing waves intensified, echoing out, a malevolent reminded of nature's fury. The sense of foreboding grew with each step in the pit of Finn's stomach. He enjoyed tall tales as much as the next person, but real lives had been lost, and he needed to put that at the forefront of his mind.
Finally, they reached a trail that ran along the shoreline beneath tall black cliffs that looked sharp as broke glass. The old dock came into view, two officers standing at the end of it, looking perplexed. Tools were scattered on the dock surface.
Its strange black iron construction was unlike any dock Finn had seen before, and he wondered if the metal was a peculiar alloy designed to stop any rusting. It creaked and groaned ominously underfoot, overshadowed by the towering cliffs above, threatening as they presumably always had, to topple down on the world and sink all within their collective shadow.
Looking down, they could see the trapped body, its outline barely visible through the churning waters.
"What in the world..." Finn whispered, both fascinated and horrified.
Kirsty's face was grim. "I can't bear to look.” She turned her back.
Amelia patted her on the arm before stepping past her towards the body. “Go back up to Huldra House, get yourself a tea. We'll come and get you once we're finished here.”
Kirsty nodded and took a few steps away from the dock. “This place has a way of hiding things,” she shouted over the waves around them, her voice fraught.
Amelia took a deep breath, her eyes never leaving the scene below. "Then let's make sure they're not hidden any longer."
CHAPTER SIX
The decaying dock groaned under Finn's weight as he stepped tentatively across the creaking black metal of the dock. It gave slightly beneath his feet, the metal wet and moss-covered. From here, the sight of the trapped body was even more visceral. The man's cold eyes stared blankly upward, his features twisted in a final grimace.
Finn leaned down and looked closer. He could see a thick set of chains around the man, pulling his limbs together. Somewhere underneath, to the back of the dock, Finn was sure the man had been chained.
Amelia, following closely, inhaled sharply at the sight. "This is just... terrible." She turned and looked back up the sloping ridge along from the cliffs. Finn did the same and could see Kirsty, the woman who was helping them around the island, disappearing over the crest. The woman still had her back to them and didn't turn before she vanished, clearly not wanting to see the body of a man she knew.
"We need to get Ivar Ward out," Finn whispered, almost to himself. His empathy for the victim was evident. "No one deserves this."
Amelia nodded in agreement, her expression resolute. "Agreed. Let's see what we can do."
They both approached the two officers who were busily looking at an array of tools lying slapdash on the metal dock. One of them, a man with red hair and a grizzled look on his face, stood up when he saw Finn and Amelia nearing.
They shook hands. “Are you the cavalry?” the man remarked.
“I'm Inspector Winters,” Amelia said. “This is Finn Wright, he's a consulting...”
“Oh, the American!” the man's face suddenly lit up. He shook Finn's hand. “I've seen your work on the television. The last two cases worked out well then?”
Finn felt his shoulder wince in the cold at the mention of it. It still hadn't healed completely from the gunshot wound. “Yeah, they went well. Now, we're just trying to solve this one. How did Ivar Ward get identified if we haven't gotten to the body yet?"
The man scratched his head. “I think some of the guys found documents on what was left of his boat. We found his wife and she had reported him missing, said it was the same boat, though she didn't understand how he got here.”
“The storm probably brought him in after fishing for some herring,” the other officer piped up while trying to tape one pole onto another. “It looked like he ran aground and jumped off.”
“Then someone on the island killed him,” Amelia said.
“That's what I think,” the younger of the two officers said. “But Wilson here thinks otherwise.”
The man with the red bear rolled his eyes. “I never said I believed the stories. I just said that if something bad lived off the coast, you could see it making Huldra island its home.”
“What have you tried so far?” Finn asked the two men.
“We tried to hook the body with some poles, but so far no luck,” Wilson said.
The younger officer went back to taping two long poles together, one of them with a hook on the end. Finn recognized it as a type of pole used to hook crab lines out of the sea.
“I don't think that's going to work,” Finn said. “We need something to get through this dock metal.”
“I don't know what metal this is, “Wilson said, “but this stuck is rock solid. You'll need something with a bit of grunt to get at it.”
“We could go back to Storn and see if our station or the local fire crew has something,” the younger officer said.
Amelia shook her head, looking frustrated. Finn could tell she wanted to examine the body and get ahead of what was happening.
“That's going to take too long,” she said. “We're already two victims behind.”
“You think there'll be more?” Wilson asked.
Amelia peered down at the body, staring up at them from under the dock. "No one does a thing like this and just stops. This is a blood thirst."
As Amelia conversed with the two officers about trying to find something that could get at the body on the island, Finn suddenly saw something up on a ridge nearby. A subtle movement caught his attention. Glancing up, he noticed a figure silhouetted against the gray sky. Standing atop a nearby rock outcropping, the man observed the scene with an inscrutable expression.
“We've got an audience,” Finn said. He looked up at the man and had a strange sense of unease staring at him. The man looked almost peaceful, despite the horrendous scene down below him. "There's something off about that guy," Finn murmured to Amelia.
She followed his gaze. "Do you think he could be observing his handy work?"
Finn had read most of Valerie Law's work from the Criminal Psychopathy Unit back at Quantico. She had served there at the same time as him, though she had, in the last couple of years, left to start a detective agency with her old partners. Her work had helped Finn understand more than one killer, and this was no different. In the protocols she had developed, she advised investigating agents to post someone in the crowd of onlookers in plain clothes, to see if they could catch anyone exhibiting strange body language in the crowd. On more than one occasion, serial killers had been known to watch the police investigation from the sidelines, getting a perverse joy from it.
And Ivar Ward's death definitely qualified as an abhorrent act.
"I'm going to have a chat," Finn eventually replied, curiosity piqued. "Maybe he knows something."
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