The Alex King Series, A BATEMAN [good books for high schoolers .TXT] 📗

she corrected him. “Being a woman has nothing to do with it.”

“My apologies,” he said.

She shrugged like it was nothing, but King could tell she had not had an easy ride in her career.

“Fitzpatrick was a spook, wasn’t he?”

King sipped some of his tea as he eyed her warily. He placed the cup down and studied her face. He decided she could be trusted. Perhaps he would get what needed to be done if he levelled with her, gained her trust? He could already see how suspicious she was. She had pieced enough together, had enough doubts to search the internet and look at Britain’s protocols concerning international crime.

“What makes you ask that?” he asked.

“Mister King, there is nothing up there for a nature lover,” she said. “The Northern Lights can be seen from anywhere here. A lot further south, even. Up here, at this time of year, it is a fight for survival. The birds have either flown south or are tucked up in their nests. The bears are in torpor, asleep for the winter. What you would probably call hibernation. The wolves are hungry and everything lower in the food chain is prey to something else. The environment is too severe, too cold for nature lovers to be out roaming the woods.”

“So?”

“So, he was staying at The Eagle’s Nest Hotel. It is built high up on a peak. The highest man-made peak in the world.”

“Man-made?”

“Scree and rock moved in from Russia. The Russians built a hydro-electric power station, using rivers that flow to and from the lake for power.”

King frowned. “But it’s frozen.”

She smiled. “The Russians spent millions on the site. Geo-thermal hot rock technology keeps the rivers from freezing. The water powers the turbines, then the water is used for cooling. Apparently, the water comes out of there at almost boiling point. For four-hundred metres from the mouth of the river into the lake, the water is warm all year round. And the river that flows from the lake into the Arctic Ocean leaves the power station just as hot. The dirt and rock dug for the geo-thermal shafts was moved out there across the border at the owner’s request and built into a mountain. Like I said, the largest man-made hill in the world.”

“So, what’s the problem with Fitzpatrick being up there?”

“The hotel is secluded. Like I said, built on top of a man-made mountain.”

“It can’t be that big.”

She smiled. “Trust me, it is. They built the mountain around a funicular rail system. That way, people can enter The Eagle’s Nest Hotel in all weathers and besides, any roadway to the hotel would not be safe in winter. Not for paying guests, at least. Snowploughs and all-terrain vehicles can get supplies and maintenance crews and equipment up there, but the funicular adds a sense of drama and theatre for the guests. As if the hotel, with its castle turrets doesn’t add enough theatre already.”

“Well, how big is this mountain?”

“I suppose, four-hundred metres. It’s shaped like a large mound with a decent ski slope on the northern side. Beginners to intermediates. Chair lifts as well.”

“And all built from waste from a power station?”

“Of sorts,” she paused. “I suppose nobody really knows how much ground was removed for the geo-thermal aspect.”

“Is there Russian money behind the hotel?”

She frowned. “I never really thought about that.”

“Better get on that internet of yours again, then.”

“You can bet on that.”

“So, what’s so wrong with Fitzpatrick staying there?”

“It’s an ideal location for lovers. The Eagle’s Nest builds an ice hotel as well. At the start of winter. It melts away in May. The ice hotel is an extension of pods, really. A place where couples come to watch the Northern Lights. It is built onto the hotel, so guests can walk straight through to the main hotel.”

“Does it have to be exclusively couples?” King asked dubiously. “Sounds exactly the sort of place I’d take some R and R.”

Lena hesitated. “I suppose not…” she said. “But it would be an unusual place for a man on his own to be staying. Especially a man who was up there simply for nature watching.”

“So, what do you think Fitzpatrick was doing?”

She looked at him, her eyebrow cocked slightly. “You have covered a reasonably broad base with Home Office. That department oversees so many things. The police, the Border Force, Revenue and Customs, MI5…”

King could see she had been busy. He could also see that working with her relied on mutual trust. Could he trust her? What ulterior motive could she have?

“Fitzpatrick was working with the Foreign and Commonwealth Office.” He shrugged and added, “MI6,” King said quietly.

“MI6?”

“Yes. And MI6 believe he was murdered.”

“And what department are you with, really?”

“MI5.”

“And they investigate murders?”

“I have before.”

“But it’s not in their general remit.”

“There’s lots of things that aren’t technically in MI5’s remit. It doesn’t stop them doing it though.”

“Them?”

King smiled. Old habits died hard. Too many years working for the opposition. “Why don’t you consider murder as an option?” he asked.

She shook her head. “He was killed by wolves,” she said emphatically. “You haven’t seen the body, yet. Trust me, you will change your mind. When I was twelve, my family dog was killed by wolves. He was shredded to the bone. He was a German Shepherd. A big dog. Aggressive if pushed by other dogs. He wouldn’t have been able to put up any sort of fight. Wolves are not dogs…” she trailed off, her eyes glossy. King could see vulnerability there, a girl at odds with both her age and her status. It made her even more attractive.

“Well, let’s go and see the body, then.”

9

 

Lena signed them both in at the reception of the health centre and