Whoever had entered was in a hurry. He didn’t bother with the light switch...

Iwas shaking so badly, I was spilling my hot chocolate. I glanced at the door, wondering what would happen if I made a run for it. “Are you cold?” Jonas said, concern in his voice. “You’re trembling.” He placed a gentle paw over my hand, hunching his shoulders the way he’d done in the Ice Theatre. My pulse was racing. I jerked my arm away and jumped to my feet. “Don’t touch me,” I cried.

His face wore a startled expression. “But I was just...” He made to rise but Erik put a restraining hand on his arm.

“Keep away from me,” I said, stumbling over the words.

I turned and ran from the room.

I grabbed a snowsuit and boots and rushed out of the Excelsior, skating past the ice penguins who stared up in surprise. When I reached the clown, I stopped for breath and leant against him, shivering. Shaking out the snowsuit, I clambered awkwardly into it.

Dusk had softened the edges of the buildings. I sat at the clown’s feet and watched the shadows deepen. The falling snow made the distance to the Icehotel seem greater than it was.

Tears

“Who’s the killer, Charlie?” I glanced up. “You know who it is, don’t you?”

The clown gazed at the ballerina, his arms high above the drum, ice tears glistening on his cheeks. I dragged myself to my feet and wrapped my arms around him.

“Tell me,” I whispered. “Tell me who it is.”

For an instant, I thought I saw his head move, but it was a trick of the light.

I placed my hand against his cheek and felt a sudden rush of warmth. The tears had dissolved under my fingers. I lifted them to my lips, startled by the unexpected taste of salt.

The snow was falling heavily now. I thrust my hands deep into my pockets and peered into the clown’s eyes.

And I asked myself again: Why had Jonas been watching me?

After dinner, I sat in the lounge with Liz, although neither of us felt like socialising. She was tearful, talking first about Harry, then about the twins. After a while, Mike joined us, but his banter appealed less to me than it did to her.

I only half listened to his attempts at flirting, grateful his attention was directed elsewhere.

My thoughts turned once again to Harry. They would have finished the post mortem. God knows, it wasn’t necessary. The cause of death was obvious. What more was Hallengren expecting to find? I tried to imagine Harry dissected, his brains packing the scales, but all I saw was his ruined body spreadeagled on the chapel floor.

Leo came and sat with us. His face was gaunt and he looked as though he hadn’t slept for days. “How are you doing, Maggie?” he said.

I forced a smile. “Right at this moment, better than you, I think.”

“I doubt that. I wasn’t the one who found Harry.” He stiffened. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean...”

“It’s all right, Leo.” I squeezed his arm. “Hang on in there. Come on, have a drink with me.”

He sipped his beer, unable to keep up his end of the conversation. I was glad when he excused himself and left.

Hushed tones

The atmosphere remained restrained. The Danes were nowhere to be seen. The reporters huddled at the bar, Denny Hinckley among them. I was relieved he made no attempt to come over. Some guests smiled sympathetically at me, but turned away when I met their gaze; others spoke in hushed tones, throwing veiled glances in my direction. After an hour of this, I’d had enough. I finished my coffee, said my goodnights and left.

In the corridor, I ran into Jonas and Erik. They were still in their black snowsuits, and were heading for the Activities Room.

Jonas’s lips tightened when he saw me, but he said nothing, just nodded courteously and stepped back to let me pass. I put my head down and hurried to my room.

I lay on the bed picking through the events of the afternoon, specifically Jonas’s behaviour. Strange how attentive he’d been to my welfare, suggesting a trip into Kiruna, or husky riding. Could I have been wrong, and the figure at the Ice Theatre was someone else? But who?

The phone rang, grating my nerves. “Maggie, it’s Jane.” Her voice sounded tinny and far away. “We’re going on the river to see the aurora. Everyone’s here, Jim and Robyn too. We thought you might fancy coming with us. I’ve had a quick peek and it’s stopped snowing. The sky’s clear but it might not stay that way for long.”

The aurora was the last thing on my mind. But their kindness touched me. “I’m not sure, Jane...”

“Well, have a think about it. If you do decide to join us, we’ll be taking the path at the side of the chapel. You can’t miss us.”

“Are you going now?”

“Everyone’s in the foyer.” A pause. “I hope you can make it, but I’ll understand if you don’t want to.” She rang off.

Aurora

I continued to lie on the bed, cradling the phone. The television clock told me it was only 11pm. I was wide awake and unlikely to get to sleep. Fresh air would help. I replaced the receiver and left the room.

A faint murmuring, punctuated by laughter, came from the lounge. So not everyone was out. I wondered whether Jonas and Erik would be on the aurora watch or, as I suspected, they’d bedded themselves in for another night in the bar. I crept away, hearing the laughter swelling and fading as I passed the room.

I pushed against the door to the Activities Room, and stepped into darkness. That was odd, the light was always on. I ran a hand over the wall, groping for the switch, but couldn’t find it. No matter. A faint glow was visible through the windows.

The racks of clothes disappeared into the shadows. I fumbled around in the gloom for the extra-thick snowsuits and chose one at random. A minute later, I’d found boots and gloves.

I was sitting pulling on a ski mask when I heard the door open. I stiffened. Another aurora watcher? Without knowing why, I crept to the nearest rack and hid among the suits.

Whoever had entered was in a hurry. He didn’t bother with the light switch. He paused for a second, then walked purposefully towards the racks. I dropped to my knees, feeling the blood pulsing through my temples. I parted the snowsuits carefully and peered out. A pair of boots marched past.

I sank back, my heart thumping wildly. I was being ridiculous. This was someone getting dressed for the aurora.

But the ice axe that had butchered Harry – this was where the killer had come to fetch it.

Suddenly, the rack began to shake. There was a rustling, followed a moment later by the heavy creak of a bench. He’d taken a snowsuit and had sat down to remove his boots.

More tomorrow. Icehotel, available on Amazon Kindle, is Hania Allen’s debut novel. Her second book, The Polish Detective (Constable, £8.99), is the first in her new series featuring DS Dania Gorska and is set in Dundee.