Page 12 of When You're Close

“I've wondered that,” Amelia said. “I have a statement in this file from Ivar Ward's wife on the mainland.”

“Ivar Ward,” Finn said. “Have the police on the mainland been speaking with the dead fisherman's relatives?”

Amelia nodded.

"They have," Amelia confirmed. "According to his wife, he always spoke of the island with a kind of reverence mixed with fear. He'd always been warned by his elders to stay away from Huldra Island, especially after dark."

Finn raised an eyebrow. "So why did he come here the other night?"

"That's the question, isn't it?" Amelia replied, scanning the file. "It's clear he had reservations about the place. It could have simply been the storm that took him off course. But could something have drawn him here, or someone? If he came here deliberately, it would have taken a lot for him to do that, considering his apparent superstition about the place."

"Or maybe he simply didn't believe in the tales," Finn speculated. "People tend to grow out of childhood fears. He could have come here simply because hedidn'tfear anything, only to encounter someone out on the moors. We should try and look at the body. Is it still on the island?"

Amelia looked thoughtful. "Perhaps, but the human mind is a complex thing. Even if we outwardly dismiss something, it can linger in the recesses of our minds, influencing our actions in ways we might not even realize. And yes, the body hasn't been moved to the mainland as far as I know, but then these files have been cobbled together in the last couple of days, it's only a day or so since Ivar Ward was missing. We'll find out more when we liaise with local law enforcement."

“There's a police force here?”

“No,” Amelia answered. “There's only one town on Huldra Island, and then a few cottages and smaller settlements dotted around. There's no need for police here when only a few hundred people live here. Rob sent me a message to say that some police and forensics had been sent over from the mainland. They're only getting to look at things now since the storm was so bad.”

There was a momentary pause as the weight of Amelia's words settled. Then, the sound of a door opening at the far end of the corridor caught their attention. Both of them turned to see a woman in her early thirties entering the dining room. She was lean with curly dark hair and a rugged look about her, as if she'd spent a lot of time outdoors.

"Good morning," she greeted them with a slight nod. "You must be with the police? I'm Kirsty. Lady Ferguson sent me to take you around the island."

Finn extended his hand. "Finn Wright. This is Amelia Winters. A pleasure to meet you."

“It's nice to meet you, Kirsty,” Amelia said. “Do you work for the Ferguson estate?”

Kirsty shook both their hands firmly. "Likewise. I've been ferrying supplies and people to and from this island for years. My mother did it before me, and her mother before that. This place," she said with a hint of sadness, "has a pull. And not always a good one."

Finn was getting sick and tired of people talking about the malevolence of the place. He had an interest in the paranormal, but he was beginning to feel that the islanders weren't wanting to concede that one of them was a killers. Instead, it was as if they wanted to implicitly blame the island itself than take stock of that unnerving fact.

Amelia's brow furrowed. "Did you know Ivar Ward then?"

Kirsty nodded. "Yes, I knew him, briefly. And I heard he's the one they found down at the docks. That's so sad. A few around here had dealings with him, though only through trips to the mainland and Storn town where he lived. A lot of the islanders go back and forth from there for work and to meet relatives. Nice guy. It's a shame, really. No one expected him to end up on this island, not after the stories he grew up with. He always joked over on Storn that he'd never step foot on here."

"So, you're familiar with the tales of Huldra Island?" Finn inquired.

Kirsty's gaze turned distant. "All too familiar. But I've always treated them as tales. Maybe that's why I can come and go as I please. Respect the island, but don't fear it. It's more the treacherous weather that's the danger."

“Do you think Ivar Ward had any enemies?” Amelia asked.

“Not that I know of,” Kirsty answered. “But then, I only knew him to chat to occasionally.”

"Let us know if anything else springs to mind," Finn remarked. "Shall we?"

“Yes,” Kirsty said. “There are some police now tending to the crime scene, I believe. It's not far from here, so we can walk. If you want to go further, I have a car Lady Ferguson let's me use.”

Kirsty led them out of the mansion and down across the bleak glen of grass and rock, and as they walked, Finn couldn't help but notice how in-tune she seemed with the environment. Every so often, she'd pause, scanning the horizon or the ground beneath them, as if reading the island's mood.

They arrived at a cliff edge overlooking a secluded cove where the remains of Ivar Ward's boat protruded from the shallow water like a hand grasping for life. The boat had been torn to shreds, and below, police officers were carefully hoisting parts of it onto another boat.

"Low tide," Kirsty remarked. "Makes the job a bit easier. They've been at it since dawn."

Finn observed the scene, trying to piece together what had happened. "I don't suppose you were here when it all went down?"

Kirsty shook her head. "No, but I was one of the first to find out. The whole community is shaken. This wasn't an accident."

Amelia, who had been intently watching the police work below, turned to Kirsty. "We're here to find out exactly what it was. But we don't know this island, so the help of someone like you with local knowledge is invaluable."

---