“Johanna. That’s what happened. That crazy fucking bitch. She made me do things. Fucking repulsive. She was handy with a knife back then.” He emitted a deep wail of frustration, his voice echoing around the forest. There was a flurry of wings above him as birds left their nests. “But she made me love her, too—”
“What about the others?” Elea interrupted, unable to stomach his self-pity. “Venla. Liisa. Jenny. Chelsea. Sophie.” Each word was spoken with the force of a bullet splitting the frostbitten air. “Why did you do it, Anu?”
“Because she fucked me up!” Anu screamed. “Said I had to find my perfect partner! But they weren’t the right fit. None of them were.” His shoulders hunched over as his words descended into whines.
“Where is Liisa?” Elea repeated. “What have you done with my daughter?”
The cruel edge of Mikael’s laughter pushed her to the brink. This was Liisa she was talking about. Beautiful, sweet Liisa, and this man—this murderer—was laughing at her.
“Tell me!” Elea demanded, raising her gun. “Before I blow your brains—” The words became lodged in her throat as she followed his gaze. Only then did she notice that the mound of earth covered in snow was human-sized. Her eyes flicked to the small wooden home-made cross.
No.
As Elea’s gun quivered, Anu reached for the rifle behind the mound.
The sudden crack of gunfire sent wildlife fleeing from the forest.
Chapter 62
Liisa
Kukka didn’t solely belong to me. Mikael used her, too. He rode her into town and used her to carry logs. She could even pull a sleigh. But he was cruel when he was moody. His love of animals was forgotten when the black cloud came down. I hated the way he’d slap Kukka. I loved that horse so much that it pained me. I didn’t love Mikael, but Iwasreliant on him. Sometimes, when he spoke about Johanna, I felt sorry for what had happened to him.
That night, when I was in the hole, he told me the truth about her and how she had taken him. He was walking home from school one day, just like me. Maria, his real mother, had forgotten to pick him up. Maria was an alcoholic. Some days she was blackout drunk. Anu told me about the times he would go home, clean up her vomit, and try to get her to bed. There was barely any food in the house. His father came and went because he couldn’t stand her moods.
Johanna drove up beside Anu when he was walking home alone. She offered him some liquorice and asked if he would like a lift. I imagined Anu climbing into her warm car. She said that he was too thin. That he needed a good meal first. She brought him to her cabin and made him a feast. Then she said it was too late to drive home and let him sleep in the spare room. The next day she bought him new clothes to wear. Told him how handsome he was. When Anu asked to go home, she said that she was sorry, but his mother had been found dead. She’d gone into detail about it, saying that she’d choked on her own vomit. Then she told him horror stories about foster care. I imagined all of this taking place and I believed every word. Mikael didn’t talk about the things that Johanna made him do, but I knew that none of it was good. She had taken him for her own. Not as a son, but as a companion. Everything else was a front. Their relationship was so messed up as he came to depend on her. I think it made him mentally ill.
I thought of when Johanna said that my presence was hard on her, too. Now I realise that she was jealous of my life with him. It was only when she was dying that she wanted to find him a wife. Mikael won’t talk about the girl who came before me. He said that it makes him feel bad. He told me that he and Joanna had sent a white feather to her foster home. They wanted people to know that she was an angel, free of misery. Free from pain. There’s something broken in him.
I will never be a wife to Mikael. I have outgrown the stupid white dresses that were made for me. But he still wants to keep me around. I cook, I clean. I do all the things that Johanna did for him. But now that I am older, I sense that he wants more, and I can’t. I just cannot bear the thought of it. Sometimes I hear him mumbling to himself at night, talking about finding the “right fit.” But any escape attempt from me will put my precious Kukka at risk. As much as it breaks my heart, I have to let her go. She knows her way into the village. I don’t have long. She can run faster without me on her back, and I don’t have time to saddle her up. Mikael will be here soon.
“I love you,” I whisper to my most beloved possession, tears blurring my vision as I run my bare fingers through her thick coat. I can’t stand to let her go, but neither can I allow Mikael to hurt her again. I attach the note to her head-collar and open the paddock door. She whickers in my presence, looking for a sugar lump. I only hope that she runs. That Mikael doesn’t see the note. That I can stop him from taking after her. She has galloped into town many times. I whisper a silent prayer that she will do so again. “Go!” I shout, hating to hit her on her rump with my spare piece of rope. Powdery snow sprays out behind her as she gallops into the distance and, as much as I will miss her, she is free. A hard lump forms in my throat. My beautiful Kukka is free.
I turn to see Mikael watching me, eyes filled with rage. He does not chase my horse. He comes after me. There is a hatred in his eyes that terrifies me. He grabs me by the hair and drags me towards the woodlands, his gun beneath his other arm. I scream at the top of my lungs. There is no going back, because he has seen everything. He knows Kukka didn’t simply escape. If he had sense, he’d take after her and bring her back. But there is no room for sense to be had when you give yourself to madness. I cling to the hope that Kukka is free. That someone will find my note, and the story of what happened here will be known to all.
But as Mikael forces me to my knees in the freezing-cold woodlands, I know it is too late for me. I bury my head in my hands, unable to look at him. No amount of pleading or begging will get through to him now. I shut my eyes tightly as the cold barrel of the gun presses against my temple. I think of Mama. Of being in her arms. I have never wanted her so badly until now. All I hear is Mikael’s heavy breathing in this cold, isolated woodland. Then the trigger is pulled.
Chapter 63
Swann turned the rental-car heater up a few degrees. He’d been wrong about Elea. She hadn’t left abruptly because she’d had a death-wish. She was chasing their suspect, going it alone. And now he was following her trail. He’d forgotten how crisp the air was here and how dark the landscape was in the absence of streetlights. Sometimes the night could be even more beautiful than the day. Swann wasn’t prone to romanticising things, but Finland had captured his heart. Tonight the darkness was animated as stars twinkled, the moon reflecting off the snow in a bluish hue. Forest pine trees loomed large, their heavy crystalline branches reminding Swann of the Bradford collectable ornaments that his mother loved to buy. But the landscape all seemed so similar, and his journey to the cabin had felt like a never-ending trail. At one point Swann was convinced that he’d been driving in circles. Heikkinen had given him detailed directions, but everywhere looked the same.
But now Heikkinen was standing before him, looking every inch the Finnish detective, with his solid build and stubbled beard. His once-blonde hair was cropped silver, cut in a young style that he managed to get away with. His POLIISI reflective jacket acted as a barrier against all weathers, along with his gloves and boots. His insulated tactical pants came with large cargo-pockets. Police-issue, designed to prevent hypothermia. Swann had left so quickly that he hadn’t dressed for the Finnish weather. His English winter coat was beginning to feel paper-thin. Heikkinen delivered a strong handshake, his expression grim as he looked Swann up and down. “Come. There’s a spare jacket in my truck.”
Swann dutifully followed. Heikkinen’s first call had come as Swann disembarked from the plane. The news that Elea had shot their suspect had come from left field. The man was believed to be Anu Korhonen, otherwise known as their first “Ice Angel.” The fact that Anu had been involved was a complete mind-fuck, but the description and the timings added up. Anu had returned to Finland just before Swann and his team started hunting him down.
“She’s in there,” Heikkinen jabbed a thumb back at the cabin as Swann pulled the spare jacket on. “She’s shaken, but physically unhurt.”
“And Anu?” Swann walked shoulder-to-shoulder with his former boss as he approached the cabin.
Heikkinen shook his head.
“Shit!” Swann muttered.
“Self-defence,” Heikkinen replied. “Elea had no choice.”
“And you can make that stick?”
Heikkinen sighed, each footstep pressing into the snow. “She’s in a whole world of trouble, but nothing that will incarcerate her.”
