Part 7 and Finale
The walkway opened into a clearing, round and surrounded by a short stone wall. It had been cleared of snow, but the chairs were stacked in a corner.
Kunst slowed his pace as he got closer to the tall figure in the blue jacket. It faced the opposite direction, looking out over the terrain. There was a good view out toward the tiny figures riding the ski lift, heading further up the mountain. Slender rays of sunlight hit the snow. Kunst’s eyes squinted tightly and covered them with his arm as he fell in line with the figure.
“Good morning,” Kunst raised his voice just below a yell, “You are Paval…Paval Chernov?”
Pavel didn’t turn. “Yes, detective.” His tone sounded defiant. His face looked red and blotchy over his pale pallor. He zipped up his jacket as the wind picked up. Kunst did the same.
“It’s going to be tough with this wind.”
“How can I help you?” Paval asked. Kunst noticed a pair of goggles in his hands.
“Are you bringing those to someone on the team?”
Paval faced him, “Yes. Darya forgot them. She sent me down to retrieve them and now I go back up the mountain.”
“She must appreciate you assisting her,” Kunst replied.
Paval pursed his thin lips together, his eyes, pale grey, darted, he looked restless and Kunst stood next to him.
“Of course, she is determined to get gold, she’s been occupied with training and forgot them in her room.” He couldn’t keep his eyes focused on Kunst’s gaze. Kunst noticed a thin scar above his eye and wondered where he got it.
“The whole team is focused on one thing, winning gold for the motherland.”
Kunst’s expression pinched. His eyebrows lowered and his stare became glassy. He tapped his foot into the layer of soft snow beneath him. His tone became like ice, cold and distant.“I had a few questions, if you have the time.”
Paval gripped the goggles in his hand, twisting the band tightly. “I don’t have the time, but maybe for one question.”
“I have already asked everyone else, but I didn’t get to ask you yet. People tend to be secretive and aren’t always the most honest. So, I was wondering if you know if anyone on the team who had learned archery,” Kunst watched Paval’s face get red, but he didn’t blink, “maybe as a child or teenager. Since you know your team, I figured you’d know.”
Paval shifted back and forth in his stance and drew his arms around himself tighter, “No, sorry, detective. If they did, they didn’t tell me.”
“Okay, danke,” Kunst replied.
“Paval,” a man in the distance shouted his name and beckoned. Paval turned and ran toward him. Kunst heard phrases in Russian that he didn’t understand. He recognized the voice as the coach’s and figured he had wanted him to hurry to bring the goggles to the teammate waiting.
The day passed quickly as the crowds ebbed as most headed up the mountain to where the teams were competing. Colorful dots were far in the distance. While everyone enjoyed the competition, Kunst remained in the conference room, going through files of evidence and drinking hot chocolate. It’s where he felt at home, with images of wounds and chemical compounds. Grange did ask him if he wanted to go watch some of the events, but Kunst turned him down flatly. “Nein. Danke. I have no interest in watching and getting cold.”
Grange flung himself opposite and slid another file toward him. “Here is what she had so far. We haven’t found anything else in the snow where we found Anya. The pathologist is having a difficult job pinpointing a time of death for her as well, but the body wasn’t frozen like Ekatherina. She was solid, while Anya’s interior temp was warmer. I have the notes for everyone’s alibi for the night in that file next to you.”
Kunst grabbed the file and began to peruse through the notes in silence.
“I guess I will go get some food.” Grange said, getting up, and without Kunst’s acknowledgement. “If you need me, I’ll be downstairs.” Again – silence. Grange rolled his eyes and closed the door after him.
While Kunst looked through files and sat back to think. He took several phone calls while he worked. He turned on the overhead lamp while the sunlight came and went from behind clouds. Crowds grew again before dinner time since the competitions for the day had ended. He heard the murmur of voices outside. He grabbed another file, one that he had requested but didn’t see until then. It had been hiding beneath crime scene photos. He flipped through the pages and his eyes focused on one page and his eyes grew wide. Then it went neutral again. He closed the file and tidied the piles. He texted Grange. He grabbed his jacket and left the files behind. He locked the door and went down the stairs and outside. He headed the same way as before, but this time he kept going, toward the ski lift. He wanted for just a moment and two spectators alighted and walked past him. He went inside the small car and nodded toward the operator. It took him to where everyone had enjoyed the afternoon. He looked down at the ground and shivered. He thought of Ekaterina and her fateful ride up the old ski lift on the other side of the lodge. She looked staged, but he wondered. They still were not sure if she had been killed somewhere else, because the blood they found had turned out to be animal, not human.
The gondola doors opened at the upper terminal, the summit enclosure. It was sparsely furnished, with only a few chairs to sit and large windows to look down over the mountains and valley below. You could barely make out the lodge from the distance. Flags from a variety of countries, including Russian and German, flapped violently outside with only a few workers lingering behind, cleaning and picking up debris left by the careless. He sent another text to Detective Grange and slipped the phone back into his pocket. He sat in one of the chairs and pulled it up to watch the door. He got comfortable, leaning back against the cushion and pulled his jacket closer to his body. The operator cast an occasional glance at him. Two lodge workers came through the door first, got into the lift car, conversing and laughing with the operator. He went back into the office as the car left. The sun inched down further into the horizon. The edges of the windows gathered a frost as the temperature began to lower.
Coach Morozov came through the door and looked shocked at the sight of Detective Kunst who looked as if he slept, hunkered down in his pillow-like jacket’s folds.
“Detective?” Morokov walked toward him. Kunst jolted upright.
“Ja, good day coach, how did your team do today?”
“Even being down two of our stars, the rest of the team has made it to third place – so far,” he replied. He looked around nervously. “So, what are you doing up here, since we are done for the day?”
“I had a couple more – questions for you coach, and…” he looked at his phone. “An accusation.”
Morozov’s demeanor changed. “Accusaion?” he sneered.
The door swung open behind him and Paval came through carrying duffle bags filled with gear. He dropped it and left again.
“Are you accusing me of murder?”
Kunst got up and looked out through the window toward the sunrise. “Well…murder and assisting a murderer.”
Finale
The gondola’s motor began to move. Paval came back through the door carrying more duffel bags. He cast a wide-eyed gaze toward Kunst and Morozov, and they watched him drop the bags with entire body trembling.
“Assisting Paval after he murdered Ekaterina and her ex-boyfriend. Anya is on you,” Kunst said, returning to the window.
Morozov looked at a frightened Paval who stood near the bags, trembling, tears threatening.
“Paval,” Morozov said, “don’t say anything.”
Paval remained silent, but with a sudden swiftness, he turned and ran out of the door. Morozov followed, Kunst close behind.
“Paval! Stop!” Morozov’s tone had changed, striking a tinge of sweetness on its upper register.
Paval ran swiftly through the snow, slipping occasionally but recovering fast, heading toward the competition area. He tried to put on some skis when Morozov grabbed his arm. Paval pulled his arm away with stern words in Russian.
Paval looked at Kunst rambling through the snow and took off again. The coach yelled after him in Russian but Paval didn’t turn around. The horizon glowed pink and sharp blue with clouds rushing at them from the sides. Paval didn’t notice the beauty of the sunset as he slipped through the barrier and down the ski jump feet first. The sound of his body slicing through the packed snow and ice, like the skiers hours before. Both Morozov and Kunst gasped as he disappeared. Morozov, though, fell to the ground with his hand to his heart. Paval would slide down the ramp swiftly and fall into the snow beneath. Whether he survived or not, time will tell.
From behind Kunst, Grange and other officers came running.
Kunst turned to Grange, “Call down at the lodge and alert the officers. If he survives the fall, we will have a murder heading down the mountain and we need to find him. Officers, arrest Coach Morozov, bitte, and read him his rights.” Grange nodded and ran back to the terminal.
One officer grabbed his hands that he had raised, one after the other, and put cuffs around his wrists. Grabbing his elbow tightly, he pushed Morozov back toward the terminal.
Kunst sighed as he pulled his car into the driveway. The light at the entry seemed to welcome him home. He went over the speed limit heading home, looking forward to his own bed and his wife. He unlocked the front door, disarmed the alarm in the dark of the entryway, and heard motion in the kitchen. He dropped his bag on the table in the office to his right. In the darkness, he thought he made out the shape of luggage, but dismissed it immediately. It was after midnight.
“What are you doing still up, schatz?” He kissed her and took a seat at the bar.
He found his wife in her pajamas, slippers, and a robe pouring hot milk into a mug, a tub of chocolate mix nearby. “I’d thought you might want to relax and tell me about your time at the lodge.”
“Ah, schatz, the things we do for love.”
“Some may even kill for the ones we love,” she replied as she filled a second mug with steaming hot milk and chocolate mix.
“Ja, quite true,” he said and sat down on the barstool. She handed him his mug and she stood to sip hers. “It is a nice lodge, we should go together, but in summer. I am tired of the cold.”
“Sounds nice,” she replied.
“They arrested the equipment manager, Paval. They found him injured, fighting through thick snow. He managed to hit a pack of ice as he dropped from the jump. He is in the hospital and being watched. I will go in tomorrow and finish the paperwork.”
“Why did he kill Ekatherina and her ex-boyfriend?”
“They threatened exposure and he reacted to protect himself and his lover. Ekatherina had more on the coach. Anya saw too much as well. The rumors of doping were real, the coach was deep in the drug scandal and, funnily enough, the biggest fear for him, in his position, was punishment in Russia, including…a penal colony in Siberia.”
“How are you doing?” She rinsed her mug out and placed it in the dishwasher. He nursed his drink.
“I am okay,” he replied, “I am a professional, and kept my feelings to myself – mostly.”
“One question,” she moved around to sit next to her husband. “How does love come into it? You didn’t explain that bit of information.”
“Ja, sorry, the coach and the equipment manager were involved romantically. They managed to keep it a secret, but Ekatherina caught them and didn’t keep it to herself.”
“Was it such a big deal?”
“Here, no. But, back home, – more complicated.”
“Well, that’s too bad,” she replied. “Love is all that matters.”