Chapter 11: The Ice Maiden

London: New Scotland Yard.

Monday: Five days after Jennifer reappears

"Good flight?" Grantby welcomes Thomassen into his office.

"Yes, thank you." She looks around. It's a grey day and the grime on Grantby's window doesn't help brighten the office either.

"Did you come British Airways?"

"Yes, I actually like Terminal Five. There is a rather good, informal, Japanese restaurant there I use after I am airside. Anyway. We have much to discuss, so we must start." (1)

"Of course. Are you going back today?"

"No, I thought I would stay a few days as I had to be here but we should do our business don't you think? Let me tell you the background to this case as we see it."

"Please, just go ahead..."

"At the end of the Soviet Era, you will recall Latvia, Lithuania and Estonia re-gained their independence from the USSR and in the period afterwards, there was considerable political and social instability in the Eastern Baltic, Finland excepted. We immediately noticed an increase in the haphazard movement of people and an increase in the numbers of people trying to come to the Scandinavian countries to live and work. We are a very attractive destination but not everyone can come, so that encourages people to attempt an illegal immigration. Scandinavian working conditions are good with high wages and with good social benefits. This is making many of our industries less competitive, so from the Swedish side, there is an incentive to draw in workers who will work longer hours for less money. Thus we have two factors which are promoting illegal immigration. Many people come from Russia and the Baltic states, but they come from elsewhere too. You may remember the case recently of some homeless men who were trafficked from the UK and working under conditions of slavery in south Sweden?" (2)

"Yes, I do. A bit of a surprise, that."

"Indeed. For us, illegal immigration is a threat to order and to the integrity of the State and we are very interested when we find people who may have come to our country in strange and unusual ways. The criminals responsible are determined and resourceful people with significant resources of their own to put in play. Their business is profitable so this encourages their efforts. Since the collapse of the Soviet Union, there are significant numbers of these energetic people on our doorstep making fortunes without the normal restraints we find in democratic societies and without the restraints imposed by communist doctrine, do you understand?"

"Yes, exactly. I do. You think Jennifer McEwan may be a victim?" Grantby is warming to Thomassen. She is setting the scene clearly. He can quite understand the problems her team must be facing.

"Mak youan. Is that how you say it?"

"Yes, Mak Ewan."

"Ah. Yes. Well, we are very interested."

"Have you any evidence in particular?"

"Yes actually we have. Two things.

"First Fru McEwan – is that right this time?" (3)

"Yes, spot on."

"Good. Fru McEwan can now speak Russian, according to her father. She could not do that before she disappeared. Second, she swam from the harbour about the time a private yacht owned by a Russian businessman was leaving port. The AIS signal from the boat was recorded as the boat left its moorings but then the transmission ceased and it was not picked up again until several days later, when the yacht had reached St Petersburg."

"Equipment failure?"

"Possible. However, our Security Service has information that the yacht owner, Anatoly Kustensky was formerly in the KGB and although he seems to be a legitimate businessman at the moment, he remains 'well connected'."

"Kustensky? Well fuck me!"

Grantby notices that Thomassen has paused and is looking at him with her head inclined to the side and one eye slightly closed

"Not a serious proposal I hope, Chief Inspector?

"Pardon?" Grantby blinks at Thomassen's remark and then understands what he has said.

It takes Grantby another half second to realize that the Ice Maiden Inspector is actually making fun of him and cracking a joke. When he realizes, the whole exchange seems absurdly funny. Eventually, Grantby is able to regain his composure.

"Ah, I'm sorry. Boy's talk I am afraid. I did not think you did jokes. You seem so serious.

"Yes, it was a joke and I understand 'boy's talk' but I am serious by the way. Perhaps we should continue?"

"Yes, perhaps we should."

"You were surprised when I mentioned Anatoly Kustensky?"

"Yes, I am really because his name has cropped up during our investigation."

"How interesting! Can you tell me?"

"Jennifer McEwan is a psychologist and was researching for her PhD at a place called Inward Bound which is an 'adult experience playground', as they call it.''

"So, sexual experience?"

"Er, yes that's about it."

"I see. You do not exactly approve?"

"Well, er, let's just say it is out of my personal experience."

Thomassen nods. She thinks for a moment about another jokey remark but she feels she has teased Grantby enough. "Please go on."

"After she disappeared we interviewed her husband, the Chief Executive at Inward Bound and her research supervisor who is a woman called Professor Angela Dawney. They all confirmed a story that whilst McEwan was at Inward Bound, she had been arrested by men who claimed to be from the CIA and interrogated about someone known to Professor Dawney. One Anatoly Kustensky. He was attached to the Soviet Embassy in the late eighties and early nineties and kept an eye on the anti-nuclear protests at an American cruise missile base in Oxfordshire. That was where he seems to have met Angela Dawney. Dawney was also arrested and interrogated, by the way. Also, just at the end of last week actually, a colleague of Jennifer McEwan reported that some of her academic work, done in England before her disappearance, has been found written up in a Russian technical journal."

"Ah ... the woman Angela Dawney," Thomassen pronounces it as An-gel-a, "has not come to our attention but we can look again. It is another piece in this puzzle. So Chief Inspector, there seem to be several Russian connections in this case. Kustensky knows Fru MakEwan's supervisor. Kustensky's yacht is near the place where MakEwan is found. MakEwan can speak Russian. MakEwan's technical work is published in a Russian technical journal – not under her own name?"

"No, there were three Russian authors. Here they are..." Grantby leafs through his briefing papers. "Mendeleyev, Romanova and Kuznetsova."

"May I?"

"Please..."

Anna Thomassen photographs the names on her iphone to note them down.

"oh", she continues, "here are the medical and psychological reports on Mrs McEwan I promised you. They are both preliminary but the psychiatrist felt that she had clearly been the victim of significant psychiatric trauma and the medical report showed she had minor skin abrasions and bruising on her back and thighs but no serious injuries. There were no traces of narcotics – or alcohol – in her blood. Samples were sent for more detailed clinical chemistry because her physique raised suspicions that he had been given – or taken on her own initiative, which is still possible – anabolic steroids or similar pharmaceuticals.

Grantby leafs quickly through both documents, clearly things which would benefit from careful reading. He lays them aside and takes up another thread which had puzzled him:

"You and your people provided quite a high level of protection for the McEwans before they came back to the UK? You mentioned you were taking them to the airport to guard them against who ever was responsible for Mrs McEwan's abduction, assuming that was what it was?"

"When I interviewed Fru Mak-Ewan, it was clear at once that she was not the stereotypical victim of human trafficking – she was not for example, a young, naïve, poor and poorly educated girl who had been seduced by promises of a better life in Scandinavia and then found herself trapped in sexual slavery. She was quite different. She was a very intelligent person and had been very well cared for. Her complexion. Her physique. The way she carried herself. For example, her head had been shaven but her eyebrows were very carefully styled. It softened the starkness of her bare head and made the overall impression very attractive very ... sexy? Is that the right word?'

"Yes, that is the right word"' replied Grantby and continues "but she might have developed that skin disease where people just loose their hair?"

"Alopecia?"

"Yes, alopecia"

"People who suffer from alopecia also loose their eyebrows. These are things that girls notice, Chief Inspector. So, I found myself wondering if Jennifer MakEwan had been acquired for a specific purpose and her release might not have been intended. If I had worked to remove her from the UK, would I let her go in Stockholm, to swim ashore into the arms of the first person she met? That seems to strike a false note and I felt a measure of protection was needed, in case her abductors tried to reclaim their prize. This information about her academic work published in a Russian journal adds to my suspicions ... and actually there was an unexpected incident which increased out anxiety."

"Oh?"

"When the family back was taken back from our Headquarters, our officers found an unexpected visitor who seemed to be stalking the Palmer's house..."

Grantby is now leaning forward, concentrating on the Inspector's every word.

" ... the woman was overpowered, arrested and held in custody until we could positively identify her and verify her story. She was in fact one of Mr MakEwan's colleagues who was in Stockholm on company business and decided to pay a surprise visit...

By this stage in her story, the Inspector is smiling broadly

... and I think it is safe to say that she was the one who had the biggest surprise. I think Mr MakEwan may have some ground to make up with one of his workmates!

Anna Thomassen becomes serious once more: I think", she says to Grantby, "I think you should look for any signs that Anatoly Kustensky may have been at work in the UK at the time of Jennifer MakEwan's disappearance, don't you?"

After he bids farewell to Inspector Thomassen, Grantby reflects on what Thomassen said about protecting the McEwans. Kidnapping was an uncommon crime in the UK and the idea that Mrs McEwan might be in danger from another abduction attempt had not crossed his mind. Brian Ackroyd was going to visit Mrs McEwan in Warwick that morning - or was it the day following? Grantby decides he ought to put Ackroyd exactly in the picture about his conversation with the Swedish visitor...

New Impressions.

It's 11 am on Monday morning. Chief Inspector Grantby and Sergeant Borland are meeting in Grantby's office. Borland is giving Grantby an account of her meeting with Jennifer McEwan at Heathrow Airport

"So what did you think of her? Our mystery woman?" Grantby is keen to get as much background as he can after his discussions with Thomassen.

"I thought ... she ... hmmm." Borland is thoughtful. It was a curious encounter, certainly. "Physically, she is just as attractive in fact as she is in the photograph Joseph McEwan has on his i-phone."

"She was bigger than I expected. I had got the idea that she would be slim from her husband's original statements, the description and so on. It turns out she is quite powerfully built. Like an athlete who does javelin or discus. Very muscular."

"Now that is an interesting observation, Borland. You're right that all the descriptions we have of Jennifer McEwan refer to her as 'slim'. It must be the result of something that's happened while she has been away. It's not the normal modus operandi of kidnappers though, is it? Putting your victim through a body building course? I wonder if 'bulking up' was her idea, whilst she was away. Might be useful to keep that in mind, as a line of questioning. It might tell us something about the conditions she has been kept under. She impressed the Swedes too because when they gave her a physical examination, they had samples taken and sent for analysis to see if she has been on steroids. So what else did you pick up?"

"That was just my point 'one'. Second, I thought she looked very tired. Not sleepy or browned off tired from a long journey but a deep inside tiredness, if you know what I mean. Oh yes – and her skin. She is quite deeply tanned. You know how brown Scandinavians seem to get when they go on holiday?"

Grantby frowns. His idea of a holiday is pretty traditional. Two weeks on the Spanish coast is about as exotic as he manages. "Not really."

"Well it's something I have noticed when I have been abroad. McEwan is half – scandinavian but if her colour is anything to go by, you would think she has been in The Mediterranean all the time she had been away"

"Ah, I don't remember that in any information we had about her."

"No, I do not either and thinking back to her husband's photo of her, she looked pale skinned, pretty much like any northern European. Now she could almost be Indian.

Grantby remembers his conversation with Anna Thomassen earlier that morning. He says:

"so what else did you notice about her? From the feminine perspective?"

"Er," for a moment Borland is taken aback. She is not expecting such a question from Grantby,

"Well, her complexion was good, no blemishes on her skin, no dry skin on her face, eyebrows carefully plucked and styled, no signs of old bruising – oh, we shook hands and I remember thinking how nice her nails looked. Not long, actually very short and practical but really nicely shaped. Filed, not bitten. Cuticles pressed back – and she has some sort of gloss on them. Her nails, that is. Her skin was soft and moisturised. Not rough or waxy."

"Hmmm. Once again. not what I would expect an abduction victim to look like, after they had been released?"

"Well, no. I mean I agree. It was strikingly incongruous."

"How about your conversation? How did she react to being questioned?"

"Socially, she interacted reasonably well, I suppose. Surprisingly well given what we imagine she's been through. When her husband introduced her to me, she looked very uncomfortable. There was a real mixture of fear and resentment. Fear at what I represented and resentment that I had turned up in the first place. There was a real sense of 'what are you doing here? Why can't you leave me alone?' We are going to have to put a lot of work in to gain her confidence."

"So, a long haul, you think?" Grantby's glum face doesn't hide how he feels about Borland's news.

Borland can tell that her boss is disappointed. They've all got too much to do and this crime, where the apparent victim won't even admit to her circumstances being out of the ordinary, is taking resources. "Yes, I am afraid so."

Grantby looks out through the grimy window of his office. "Well, Borland, let me know how you want to play it. There's a few other things you need to know. This morning I had the pleasure of a visit from an Inspector Anna Thomassen of the Swedish National Investigation Bureau."

Borland nods. 'That puts a different complexion on events', she thinks. When was the last time a senior foreign policeman came to London to discuss a case she was involved with?

"I wouldn't like to be a villain she picks up, I can tell you. When we compared notes, there was an odd name which kept on cropping up. Anatoly Kustensky. Briefly, KGB man in London in the late 'eighties and early 'nineties. He met Professor Dawney when she was a student radical at Greenham Common and he's kept up with her ever since. A yacht belonging to Mr Kustensky was close to where McEwan swam ashore in Stockholm. And of course, McEwan

- and Dawney - were detained and questioned about Kustensky when she was at that funny place in Suffolk doing her research by some people who said they were CIA. You knew all that, anyway?"

"Yes, thank you Sir. I was probably one of the first people to hear the story when I took a statement from Joseph McEwan"

"Yes of course, you questioned the husband right at the beginning of all this, didn't you? Well, I think you should start by seeing if you can find any Kustensky footprints around about the time Mrs McEwan vanished. We did not get very far last time working forward from the few clues there were, so this time I think we should try to see if we can establish any connections going the other way, so to speak. Start thinking about how you could get people out of the country and assume they don't want to go in the first place. How would you do it? What would you need? How could you ensure your 'cargo' arrived safely? How could you ensure there was no detection on route? If you were detected, what might your story be? That sort of thing and maybe we can meet again at the end of the week. I would like you to concentrate on this and I will get your colleagues to cover the other cases you are working on at the moment. OK?"

Borland is happy with that. It might not lead anywhere but at least it's something she can get her teeth into. Maybe in the meantime she'll think how to get more out of Jennifer McEwan. "Of course. Shall we meet at the end of Friday? I can change that according to progress?"

"Yes. See what you can find out. Kustensky might just be the key to all this."

The Ghost In The Machine

In a small suburban house in Warwick, Jennifer McEwan is gingerly exploring her old home, somewhere which now feels very new – and strange. It is so small, compared to the house she has become used to! As she prowls quietly around, she wonders what she ought to do?

Joseph has gone shopping and told her to stay in bed, told her he would fix breakfast. Jennifer is not used to this. It is very unsettling. She should be making breakfast for him. Jennifer has an odd feeling that she is not alone in the house. Of course, she is not used to being left alone. She has grown accustomed to being watched and instructed and supervised and corrected and disciplined and now ... nothing. She reflects on 'her situation' again. The feeling of 'someone being there' is wrong. Actually, it is wrong way round. What she has noticed, is that there is no one there. She is alone. Afraid. She must use her time well. She was taught that. She goes into the kitchen. It is tidy but not properly clean. It does not reach the standards she has been trained to. She looks in the cupboards. More untidiness! She carefully lines up the tins and jars, labels all facing forwards. (4)

She still cannot settle. She does not want to be occupied with cleaning when the man returns. Especially if he is expecting a meal. Her best option is to be ready ... she returns upstairs, she makes the bed. Tidies the room, gets washed and cleans her teeth and straight away notices how sharp and minty the tooth paste is, compared to that she is used to. The man is still not back.

Jennifer (but perhaps really Vyera) finds the office – it's actually a small bedroom – and looks at the computer. It stands mute and silent. She is tempted to turn it on, but should she? Is she allowed? She remembers – remembers all too vividly – another morning when she was left alone in an office with a computer. At the end of the day, she was thoroughly caned by her supervisor for trying to send emails. But now? Today? Has she been given instructions? No. Has she been given restrictions? No. So perhaps it is allowed? She gingerly turns the machine on. A few moments later, she is looking at the desktop picture. It's a picture of her and the man ... no, not the man, it is a picture of Joseph. He is sitting. She is standing behind him, her arms around his neck. He is laughing. She is laughing. The moments tick by...

In Russia, Neena Kirova is in the dining room of the Dacha checking the work of the domestics. Tonight there are to be guests for dinner and she knows Anatoly Sergeyevitch and Svetlana Nikitechna will need the presentation of the food and the dacha as a whole to be to be impeccable. In the midst of these immediate concerns an alarm on her i-phone sounds. Yevgeny has been given a small app to alert Neena when someone is working on the McEwan's computer. Neena immediately turns tail and rushes up the stairs towards the office. The phone alarm continues to sound! She is breathing heavily (despite her fitness) and perspiring freely by the time she sits down and fires up the computer. Perversely, it seems to take minutes to ready itself even though it was probably only seconds. Neena is still breathing deeply and feels uncomfortably sweaty as she waits for the computer. 'Butterflies' are squirming in her stomach. She brushes her hair off her face to try and seem presentable and 'in control'. As soon as the machine has booted up, Neena grabs the mouse and clicks the surveillance programme icon. Her screen changes to show a list of the programmes active on the McEwan PC and through the screen camera, there is an image of Vyera, apparently staring vacantly into her own screen. Neena composes herself. She brushes her hair once again and straightens her blouse. She clears her throat. All the while, all she can think of is how nervous she feels. She has to get this right!

As Jennifer stares at the screen, not sure what she should do next, without warning the machine comes to life all by itself. A small spot in the top right enlarges to fill most of the screen. The face of a young woman looks out at her. At first the face is serious, then the image animates. The face smiles. A voice says: