A Death in Sweden

Dan moved around the side of the lodge, looking across the disturbingly light gardens, illuminated by the snow. Teddy was nowhere to be seen. There was a window on the side of the lodge, giving a view over the house. Dan crouched and crept under it, then turned and walked back full height, tapping lightly on the glass as he passed.


He heard the guy inside the lodge say something, and even before Dan had got back around he heard the door open again, and the same voice saying, “I thought you were gonna check the south-east corner before you come back in?”

Dan turned the corner and shot the guy standing there in the chest. He fell backward into the open door, then into the lodge. The door started to close again, but one of the guy’s feet was trapped in the gap and held it.

Dan jumped forward, pulled the door open and dragged the guy inside. He moaned slightly as Dan manhandled him out of the way. Dan stared, curious, because he’d hit him neatly—maybe the bullet had taken an unlucky deflection off the bone and missed his heart. He shot him again, then took in the room before him.

There was a bank of monitors, all blank at the moment, a couple of computer screens, one apparently keeping track of the motion sensors, another probably for more general use. The blinds were pulled over enough that no one would be able to see in from outside.

There were another couple of rooms off the main one and he checked them out quickly—a toilet and a room that looked unused but had a bunk in it. He moved a chair into the middle of the main room, facing the door, and sat down to wait on Teddy’s return.

But he was still sitting there when the monitors all kicked into life again, the screens flickering before producing otherworldly views of the house and its surrounds. He turned and looked at them, spotting Teddy immediately.

Dan got his bearings and saw that Teddy had decided to do a circuit after all. He’d been down and walked along the lake shore, and was now heading back up the eastern boundary. Dan kept watching; as he turned, as he headed back toward the lodge, as he spotted something and crouched down.

He should have covered his tracks—it hadn’t been snowing long enough to erase them. Dan heard a distant tinny voice, and realized it was an earpiece on the dead guy. He reached over, grabbed it, listened in.

“Something definitely came over . . .” Dan glanced at the monitors, could almost see him follow the tracks with his eyes and see where they led to. When he spoke again, it was low and cautious, “Rick?” He cursed lightly under his breath when there was no response, and drew his gun. Nothing more came through the earpiece, but even in the fuzzy light of the cameras, Dan could see he was talking to someone else.

Dan looked back down at the guy who’d apparently been called Rick. He’d tried to call Teddy before he was out of earshot—it hadn’t occurred to Dan that he then would have spoken to him over the wires, telling him the cameras were down, to check that corner. That was why Teddy had taken the full tour.

At the moment, Teddy was still standing exactly where he’d been inspecting the snow, as if waiting for backup, though Dan couldn’t see anyone emerging from the house. Then he understood exactly what Teddy was waiting for, because the monitors died again, shut down by someone in the house.

He couldn’t stay here. He hit the lights, then eased the door open and stepped out into his old tracks. He moved along the wall of the lodge, where the snow had not yet gathered, and into the shelter of the hedge, where he dropped to the floor which was cold but had once again been sheltered from the snow.

Dan lay still on his side, his back pushed under the hedge, listening. He could hear cars in the distance, but almost nothing else. Nearby, he could even hear the soft patter of the snow making contact. There was nothing from the house, and nothing to see either, because it was all but out of sight from where he lay.

He seemed to have been lying there for minutes when he became aware of other sounds, as indistinct as the snowfall, but definitely there. Teddy was edging toward the lodge, keeping his own movements slow and careful so that he could listen out for Dan in turn.

He couldn’t see him though, even against the snow, even when the sound had become distinct enough to suggest he wasn’t many yards away. Dan tipped his head, and realized now why he hadn’t seen him. Teddy had come up with the same idea, and was edging carefully along the hedge, using its shadow for cover.

From the lodge it would have camouflaged him, but from where Dan lay, he could see his shadow clearly, rippling along the front of the hedge. He’d have been able to get a better shot by rolling out into the open, but he didn’t want to risk the movement, so he just brought his arm around in one swift movement and fired.

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