Primordial

Chapter 36

Superintendent Paavo Rinne ground his teeth in frustration as he squinted against the stinging rain. Heavy clouds hung low, swept along by a damp, chill breeze that sliced through his jacket and uniform.

A flicker of lightning licked the horizon, and a low rumble rolled across the lake, scarcely audible over the whine of the engine. He’d seen weather like this plenty of times and knew he needed to take care of business and get back to safety before Lake Kaarme turned into maelstrom.

Bright headlights on the police launch drove ahead of them, highlighting the rain and the wave tops as the boat bounced along. But weather be damned, he would not turn tail and run. He would bring those crazy foreigners to justice. He took care of a peaceful town and while it had its problems and its legends, they were known and respected. Then these Americans and Australians came blundering in, upsetting the status quo and killing his staff. His family! The thought of what they might have done to Pieter Lehtonen before leaving his boat adrift and blood on the shore drove Rinne to distraction.

Mikael pulled the collar of his coat up around his exposed neck, leaned in to Rinne, and shouted in his ear. “We should turn back. This weather is going to be insane!”

Rinne turned to the deputy, his face as stormy as the night. “No,” he shouted back.

Rain dripped down the veteran officer’s heavily lined face, tracing rivulets across his ruddy cheeks. “They’ll still be there in the morning. Even if the storm is worse then, at least we will have the light!”

“And let them see us coming? No.” The police launch skipped and danced on the choppy lake, Rinne’s knuckles white on the rail. “We push on! This ends tonight. The storm will give us cover and we can easily round them up. I’ll have them in holding cells and you’ll be back home to your warm hearth in an hour.”

The deputy stared for a moment and must have seen the clear determination in Rinne’s eyes. The man seemed a little disturbed, like maybe he saw more than simple resolve there. And perhaps he did. Rinne was under no illusions, knew he was acting irrationally. Perhaps they could wait until morning. But something in his gut told him there was danger afoot this night and he needed to be there, get amongst it, maybe stall it. He had grown up to feel his town like a friend. Like a lover. And tonight, Kaarme was disquieted.

Mikael looked up at the sky and then down at the waves slapping at the gunwales of their launch.

“You know, it was a night like this when your father died.”

Rinne’s thoughts froze. This was the last subject he wanted anyone to broach with him.

“I was a rookie,” Mikael continued. “We were looking for a fisherman who didn’t come home on time and his wife was getting worried, with the storm and all.”

Rinne could only manage a nod. He’d heard this all before. The tale both captivated and horrified him, just as it had in his youth when he’d lurked in the doorway while Mikael, then just a young man, recounted the tale to Rinne’s sobbing mother.

“We found the guy on the far end of the lake. Piss drunk, lying in his boat. Your father got him on board the launch and started towing his boat back to town. It was right about there.” He pointed toward the dark hulk of Holloway’s boat, little more than a shadow in the night ahead. “The waves were high, some of them breaking over the boat. I was at the wheel and your father was laughing with the drunk. He was always like that, you know. He didn’t see himself as an authority figure so much as a shepherd, and the town his flock.”

That bit stung, and Rinne wondered if Mikael had meant it as a barb. He knew he wasn’t his father, though he hoped to be some day. He’d done his best considering he’d basically raised himself. His mother had retreated into her grief when Rinne’s father died, and never fully re-emerged.

“I’ll never forget it. I looked over at him and it was like the water just reached up and snatched him out of the boat. It was dark, like now, and I could scarcely see, but the waves looked like jaws closing around him. One moment he was there, the next he was gone.” Mikael hung his head. “I wish we’d found his body for you, Paavo. A proper funeral, and not just an empty casket, might have helped your mother in her grief.”

“I don’t think anything would have helped her,” Rinne said, his throat tight. He glanced back. He hadn’t managed to raise much of a posse, especially with Pieter missing, almost certainly dead. One other deputy and three part-timers, all of whom had taken hours to round up and all of whom protested equally loudly. They returned his look with sullen eyes, half-closed against the driving rain, their jackets and hair whipping, soaked in the powerful wind. The man at the launch’s helm shook his head, lips pressed into a flat line.

Five of them in all, against seven foreigners he assumed were still up to no good out there. But five trained and armed officials against seven fools was no contest. With a sneer he turned back to stare out across the lake. In the distance, through the shroud of the downpour, he could make out pinpoints of light on the deck of the Merenneito.

He forced the dark memories away and grinned. He was looking forward to this.