She sounded impatient, but he noticed her footsteps had grown quiet again. ‘Are there any seals near where you live?’ he asked her.
‘Yes, but when I go hunting I’ll take a boat, so I can get away for a bit.’
Matthew’s eyebrows shot up. ‘You have a boat?’
‘Tell me, just how thick are you?’
‘But you just said—’
‘I’ll borrow one and then I’ll return it. You’re really not from around here, are you.’
‘I’ve been here two months.’
‘Time to get you blooded.’
‘Blooded? What do you mean?’ Matthew nearly tripped, but managed to keep up with her.
‘I’ll take you hunting later—see if it makes you run home to Denmark.’
By now they had reached the police station.
‘Is this where you’re going as well?’ she asked him.
He shook his head. ‘No, I… I don’t know what I’m doing.’
She nodded towards the door. ‘Come with me, then. Can’t do any harm, given how nice and Danish you look.’
Five minutes later they were standing in front of the counter. The petite woman on the other side had called an officer to deal with the matter.
‘We can’t release your weapons,’ the officer said, nodding at the computer monitor, which was facing away from them. ‘The case hasn’t been closed, and there’s a note here saying that your items can’t be returned.’
‘Like I’ve just explained to you,’ Tupaarnaq said, ‘there was no case, so—’
‘That’s no use to me,’ he said. ‘We’re talking about weapons that haven’t been signed off for release.’
Tupaarnaq took out some papers, which she placed on the counter. ‘Here are my receipts for the rifle and the ulo… And here you have my proof of residence and my tenancy agreement.’
He looked at her quizzically.
‘Were my rifle or my ulo used in the commission of a crime?’
The officer stared stiffly at the screen.
‘I’m happy to help you,’ Tupaarnaq said. ‘They weren’t, nor were they illegally in my possession.’
‘You were just arrested for murder,’ he mumbled.
‘Unlawfully,’ Tupaarnaq said calmly. ‘I was released the same day because the charge didn’t stand up. It didn’t. And you know it.’
The officer sighed. ‘Your property, however, was listed as potential evidence, and it’ll take time to get it released.’
‘Not in Nuuk, surely?’ Matthew heard the anger in her voice now, but she kept her cool. ‘Now, listen to me. I’m not an idiot, though you may think I am. My rifle is just around the back, and you know that not a single shot has been fired from it, or you would never have released me so fast. So if you could just go out and get it for me, that would be great.’
‘Your rifle is in our possession.’
‘Why?’ She leaned her upper body across the counter.
He looked back at the screen. When they’d arrived, the reception area had hummed with quiet office life. Now it was silent.
‘Unless you can produce a valid reason for retaining my property, or you can show me, in writing, that the Weapons Act here in Greenland has been tightened within the last few minutes, then you must give me back my belongings. If you won’t, please provide me with details of your complaints procedure, together with a form to be completed when reporting a case of theft.’
‘But—’
‘No buts. Make your mind up. Those are your choices. I can always get hold of the forms myself, and then I’ll write to the authorities and the media in Denmark about how you are personally obstructing the rehabilitation of a recently released, traumatised young woman, who would like to return to her life as a hunter and fisherwoman after being locked up since she was fifteen years old. And of course I’ll mention the brutal arrest and police harassment based on nothing but misogyny and circumstantial evidence. So what’s it to be?’
26
Matthew held Tupaarnaq’s laptop while she swung her rifle over her shoulder. ‘There are few things on this earth I hate more than men,’ she said. ‘None, in fact.’ She took out her mobile and checked the time. ‘It’s too late to go hunting today.’
‘Today? You were going to go hunting today?’
She nodded and took her laptop from him. ‘Absolutely, but it’s too late now. Spending the night at sea would be stupid.’ She took a deep breath and nodded resolutely. ‘We’ll go early tomorrow morning.’
‘I—’
‘What?’ she said, glancing sideways at him. ‘You have something better to do?’
He shook his head hesitantly.
She sighed. ‘Listen, if I wanted you dead, I would have flayed you by now. You’re coming with me so that we can see what you’re made of. I can’t work with a wimp.’
Matthew frowned. ‘We’re working together?’
‘Yes. Your notebook, the murders and me being arrested—they’re all connected. Only I don’t know how yet.’
The thought of their paths merging was dizzying, and he felt something unravel inside him as they walked. ‘You were pretty impressive back at the police station.’
‘He had no idea what he was doing,’ she said. ‘This is Nuuk, not Copenhagen. If the police want to act within the law, they have no grounds on which to retain my property.’
‘You certainly sounded as if you knew what you were talking about.’
She stopped. They were on the path that went over the steep rocks in between the apartment blocks where she lived.
‘I was locked up for twelve years. While I was in prison, I sat my finals and then I read law. You could say that I had plenty of time to study.’
She started walking again. Matthew looked briefly at her back before following. ‘You’re a lawyer?’
‘Well, I’ve got the degree, but I don’t expect I’ll ever practise as a lawyer, with my background.’
The long, grey apartment blocks emerged from the rocks. Solid concrete. Rows of dark windows. Matthew followed Tupaarnaq up a weathered wooden staircase and into a shabby gallery that ran along the building’s ground floor.
‘I want to show you something,’ she said. ‘You can come with me up to my place, but you’ll have to wait outside the door. I don’t want anyone coming inside.’
Matthew followed her through first one heavy swing door and then another. Both were old and wonky, and it looked like it was a long time since either of them had shut properly. Behind the doors were concrete stairs that led up to the first floor. Matthew tried in vain to close the second door before he followed Tupaarnaq up the steps. There had to be a massive draught in the winter once the storms and the frost got hold of the headland—especially in this block, which bordered the dark deep of the North Atlantic. The walls around them were covered with simple graffiti. Names. Years. Profanities. There was a skull with the caption: xixx—u wil di in 12 day—c u in hel.
Matthew and Tupaarnaq went out through the door to the first-floor gallery and upstairs to the second floor. This door was even more damaged than the ones downstairs. Its plastic window had been torched, and had shrivelled into long, brown, melted scars.
‘This is it.’
She stopped in front of a white door to the right of the stairs. Above the door someone had written in red spray paint: Abandon hope, all ye who enter here.
‘Wait here.’ Tupaarnaq looked at him sharply to make sure he had understood before she took out a key and let herself in. She gave him a last look from under her eyelids before disappearing into the apartment. All Matthew had time to see was a totally empty hall. Absolutely nothing but the floor and the walls had been waiting for the woman who had just entered.