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Back The Double Save as PDF
Chapters (63)
  1. 1
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  10. 10
  11. 11
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  29. 29
  30. 30
  31. 31
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  33. 33
  34. 34
  35. 35
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  37. 37
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  40. 40
  41. 41
  42. 42
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  44. 44
  45. 45
  46. 46
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  48. 48
  49. 49
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  51. 51
  52. 52
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  58. 58
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  60. 60
  61. 61
  62. 62
  63. Acknowledgements

His eyes darted about. Every fibre of his being urged him to run. ‘I need your help.’ He took her arm and steered her in the opposite direction of the main building and towards the far end of the property. He’d spotted an isolated chalet there once, hidden behind a dense stand of fir trees. He was certain it was empty. They could hide out in there until he figured out his next move.

If Hélène refused to help him, then drastic measures were called for. He could hold her hostage in the chalet, or threaten to burn it down, unless he was provided with passage home and absolved of all responsibility for the events in Copenhagen. He cursed the day he’d been given that award. It should have been the crowning pinnacle of his career, not the gateway to an unimaginable hell.

When they reached the chalet, he looked back to see that the trees had closed in behind them. The snow was piled high on either side of a recently cleared path that led to the door. The shutters on the front windows were fastened and no smoke rose from the chimney. All signs pointed to a vacant building. He hurried her up the front steps, dragging her by the arm. ‘Ouch, you’re hurting me.’ Fear flashed in her eyes.

‘I won’t harm you,’ he said, pushing her through the unlocked door and into a dim foyer. ‘But I need to get away from here. I can’t get Dr Gessen… he doesn’t understand that I…’ He grabbed the edge of a table and gasped for air. ‘If I don’t return to my life, I’ll die here.’

‘You’d better sit down.’ She led him to a chair at the end of the hall. ‘Try to breathe. You’ll feel better in a minute.’

He didn’t think he’d ever feel better, and certainly not in a minute. What a stupid measure of time. Tick-tock. In a minute there is time… for decisions and revisions… Was he going mad? His thoughts buzzed with the fragments of a poem he’d read long ago.

The front hall of the chalet was shadowed in darkness. There was a telephone on the table and he caught Hélène eyeing it. ‘Don’t touch it. Not until,’ he coughed raggedly, ‘I’ve come up with a plan.’

With snow piled up to the window ledges, and no wind, the chalet was eerily quiet. A perfect place to negotiate his release. He could fasten the shutters and barricade the door. Clearly no one had been in here for months.