Chapter 34

"Hotel Akureyri. Hmph.. figures..."

"Not exactly. There actually are a number of hotels. This may be a small city, but it's not without reason it's called the Capital of North Iceland."

"Ooh... Will you show me around town when we're done, show me the hippest places?"

"Sarcasm, my Love? Be careful, the Icelanders are a proud people. But, if you wish, we could visit the Botanical Gardens or Akureyri Art Museum later on. Or would the Aviation Museum be more to your liking, or perhaps even the Motorcycle Museum? And let's not forget the most northerly golf course in the world! We could try half a nine-hole golf course later today, the weather's not that bad..."

"Now who's being sarcastic?"

"Just following your lead, my Love."

"You better," she grinned. "I doubt they have exciting plans for today and they had lunch en route. I doubt they'll come out and play, but shall we wait until, let's say five-ish, and if they haven't shown up try and lure them out?"

"Splendid idea."

"I need to pee first. When we return I'll drive onto the parking lot, there are no cars by the curb anywhere so they'd spot us immediately."

"A sanitary stop would be lovely, yes."

Clarice drove to the Akureyri Swimming Pool next door. When they returned, Clarice halted somewhere halfway the hotel's parking lot; not too far but not too close either. She retrieved the thermos with coffee and poured them both a mug.

Minutes went by one by one. As with all stakeouts, it could eat your nerves if you hadn't anything to occupy your thoughts. Luckily, Hannibal was her partner now and he knew how to entertain her. He fed her with tasty morsels of literature and music, listened to her reactions and let her ideas steer the route they took through these arts. David Bowie's cinematographic endeavors proved to be a most interesting subject. Where Hannibal was more inclined towards Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence and The Last Temptation of Christ, Clarice turned out to be a real fan of the movie Labyrinth. After that they explored the other great performers in British music at the end of the previous century.

Clarice almost regretted spotting the twins exiting the hotel. [MB]

Almost.

The good Samaritan who had given the twins a ride had escaped their presence blissfully ignorant of the danger he'd been in. And the transient population was nearly nonexistent here. Who would they target?

Not that the pair put much forethought into their actions. At least not the dominant one who led them; he seemed very much a creature of impulse, an opportunist. An image of a jackal flashed through Clarice's mind.

Instead of crossing the parking lot the twins traversed the quiet road and headed toward the harbor. A cruise ship, a gaudy white behemoth docked there, likely significantly increasing the population of the small city, at least temporarily.

Fresh meat, as they say.

Clarice and Hannibal followed from a lengthy distance in their rental. On foot they'd be far too conspicuous as there were no crowds to blend into. It would be different down in the harbor; it teemed with activity. Cargo ships vied with fishing vessels for space and the massive cruise ship was divesting itself of passengers.

Clarice found a place to park, smiled at Hannibal, and the two set off after the brothers.

.

Cibrán figured it was time. Frederico hadn't stopped pouting since he'd killed the nagging mother. His brother's sourpuss face and perpetual meekness had become tedious. He must take care of matters today and compete the trip solo if only for his own sanity.

A shame, really, that his brother couldn't be more like him.

"Come on, faster," Cibrán said over his should and saw Frederico lagged a good three meters behind. In the past they'd found disembarking cruise ship passengers to be wonderful marks. It was so easy to slip their wallets from their pockets or grab onto the handles on their luggage, appropriating it as their own.

Likely enough motive to get his brother to follow him.

Cibrán also anticipated many empty cabin rooms, as good a place as any for fratricide. Plus there was the delightful benefit of the time it would take authorities to decide on jurisdiction. Would it be Iceland's crime to solve, or- looking at the giant red maple leaf on the hull, would it be Canada's?

Maniacal joy surged through him as he imagined the headlines. [D]

"I'm sorry, I forgot a bag at the bar," he explained as they boarded, anticipating the steward's question as any person who had left something aboard would do.

Seeing the luggage Cibrán was carrying and the line of people waiting to disembark, the man simply nodded them through. Cibrán smiled back - because of the success of his story, not out of politeness - and motioned for Frederico to follow. He then continued down the hall, into the ship's innards. When he found a display with the ship's floor plans he quickly took a look and decided where he would kill his brother.

"The people in the expensive cabins always leave first to visit the town and spend some money. Let's go here," he said as he pointed at the display.

"U-huh," mumbled Frederico sullenly.

"Come on. I promise you: after this, no more. We've reached Iceland, it's okay now. We'll finally see grandma again, live with her and be happy."

He walked over to the elevators and pressed the call button.

"We should call her first. Look her up in the phone book."

"No. I'm sure she'll be happy to see us when we pay her a surprise visit."

Frederico knew better than that. Her daughter had been killed months ago and her grandchildren had disappeared. He imagined she would be surprised, but in a different way than Cibrán anticipated. She'd ask all kinds of questions and there was no way Cibrán would be able to answer them. Would he kill her too, in the end?

Probably, yes.

Frederico decided then and there he wouldn't let that happen. He would stop his brother, better today than tomorrow... [MB]

A maid's cart already stood in the hallway next to the grand suite Cibrán had selected. Up and down the hall doors stood open though there were no maids in sight. Likely they were tackling the rooms on the far end and working their way back.

Cibrán quickly entered and motioned a reluctant Frederico to follow, then he slipped the Do Not Disturb sign on the outside handle and closed the door, twisting the deadbolt into place.

Clarice and Hannibal heard the latch click and stepped from their place around the corner into the deserted hall. Cibrán wasn't the only one who had studied a map of the ship's layout.

Hannibal motioned to a nearby door and said in the softest of voices, "This suite is attached to the other through an adjoining door. I'll bet you a buffet plate of crab legs and a long island iced tea it's unlocked."

"Is that what people eat on these big boats? Clarice asked, her voice a whisper and a smile on her face. "Sign me up."

Hannibal visibly shuddered. "Absolutely. Not."

She grinned wider. She knew well his aversion to what he labeled "canned, inauthentic twaddle."

"Okay, fine. But ladies first," she said and she walked through the open door, drawing her gun as she moved. [D]

The room was spacious, they had a good number of meters to go. Clarice crossed the distance to the adjoining door with Hannibal right behind her, both on proverbial tippy toes as the floor was equipped with thick pile carpet.

Then, as they neared the door, there suddenly came noises of brawling from the other side.

Shit, they're quick!

Without hesitation Clarice took a jump towards the door, pulled it open and entered. Hannibal followed right behind her, his Harpy in his hand.

Just like the noise they had not anticipated, the scene inside was unexpected.

Instead of another victim of the lethal twins bathing in blood with the two lurching over him or her, the dominant one was on the floor with the meek one on top of him. In their hands, a knife, pointing lethally downwards at a ribcage. Rage and fear reigned on both faces as the knife balanced between them in status quo.

Clarice took the scene in, immediately handed her gun to Hannibal and stepped forward. With one hand she cupped the mouth of the boy under and with the other she helped press down the knife.

Hannibal delighted in the sight and smell. [MB]

The meek twin startled, his whole body jerking, but to both Clarice's and Hannibal's surprise, he continued with his endeavor. His fingers wrapped around the knife handle tight enough to turn his knuckles white, and Clarice's hand atop them, together they found a soft, vulnerable bit of flesh—Hannibal estimated the fourth intercostal space between the fourth and fifth ribs—and plunged the blade down to the hilt.

The dominant twin shrieked through Clarice's fingers with his last lungful of air, but the sound ended prematurely, morphing into a sticky, wet rasp.

"Excellent," Hannibal praised them. "Now slide left and you'll sever two ventricles."

Clarice removed her hand and stood, then stepped back a few feet to stand at Hannibal's side.

The no-longer-meek twin didn't seem to notice or perhaps just didn't care.

He stared down into his brother's face. "This is for mother, you monstrous bastard," he said and slid the blade left. The prone brother's eyes widened, and for a small second Clarice saw both rage and fear warring there, but a third emotion battled there, too—disbelief- and that's what she savored most. She knew his surprise was due in part to his brother turning on him, but she believed an even greater factor was his likely belief in his own invincibility. For so long, he was the one who dealt death; he was the one who wielded power. The traits that made him a psychopath and allowed him to be a successful serial murderer hadn't prepared him for his own violent death. He lacked empathy, and therefore the imagination to envision himself in his victims' place. That's right, you murderous fuck. The bell tolls for you, too. She smirked at him as his eyes grew glassy and his pupils fixed.

Blood welled from the wound and spread from beneath the dying brother in an ever-growing pool. A full minute ticked by before the remaining twin stood, leaving the knife embedded in his brother's bloody chest. His hands trembled and tears poured from his eyes as he turned to them. [D]

"And now... you'll kill me?" [MB]