Five:
"Did you have any reason to harm Miss Hofferson?" Mala asked Hiccup directly. "Did you have any reason to kill her?"
Astrid felt fury roil through her, utterly enraged at the implication. This was Hiccup-her Hiccup, the gentlest, kindest, most loving man on Midgard. How dare this...person...suggest that he could mean her any harm? He would have died for her and was suffering so badly right now. Her fists balled and the windows began to rattle, just slightly while Toothless gave a whine, flattening his ears and ducking down behind Hiccup.
"No," he said in a dry, toneless voice. "I love her with all my heart. I would never hurt her. I wish...I wish it had been me, not her..."
"But the commonest perpetrators of murder are partners and family," Mala insisted coldly. "Did you have a good relationship with Miss Hofferson?"
"I loved her with all my heart," Hiccup said softly.
"And did she love you?" Throk asked him coldly, staring at the young man. Lifting his red-rimmed eyes, Hiccup nodded.
"Yes," he said. "I know she did."
"But..." Throk prompted him seductively.
"She never said it," he sighed, his hand tousling Toothless's ears and Astrid felt a curl of shame-and guilt. "I-I know she loved me because she showed it every day, every second we were together...she...she just didn't like to say the words. To her, they were just words, that didn't mean anything..."
"And did her refusal to acknowledge your feelings make you angry?" Throk pressed. "Did you wish to force her to speak the words-and kill her in the process?"
"Wha...? NO!" Hiccup shouted. "Gods, you have no idea...I watched her die! I held her in my arms..."
"Wracked with guilt?" Mala pressed. Hiccup stared at her, green eyes wide with horror and mouth hanging open as Astrid's rage filled her. The windows rattled more definitely and the lamp nearest to where she was sitting on the arm of the couch began to sway...and then fell over. Toothless growled as Stoick rose to his feet.
"HOW DARE YOU ACCUSE MY SON?" he roared, eyes flashing with rage that fully matched Astrid's own. "My son is distraught at the murder of his beloved and you come here and sling around dirty, lazy accusations instead of finding the man who killed her!" Mala turned to glare at him.
"Mr Haddock-that is precisely what we are doing," she said coldly. "We just have a few more questions for your son..." She paused. "You were aware that Miss Hofferson had a large life insurance policy for which your son was the sole beneficiary? That her death would earn him three million dollars?" Stealing a glance at Hiccup, who was trembling, his eyes too bright, Stoick shook his head.
"No, I was not aware of that," he said grimly.
"Your son is an artist-but not a particularly successful one," Throk said brutally. "His earnings in the last fiscal year were in the hundreds of dollars. Maybe he felt ashamed at his failure."
"No!" Hiccup blurted out. "Astrid believed in me! I'm not a failure-I'm just not a well-known artist..."
"My son is Heir to the Haddock fortune," Stoick cut in. "On my death, he will inherit in excess of fifty million dollars. And he has no appetite for money..." Mala gave a thin, scornful smile.
"In my experience, everyone does," she told him coldly.
"Maybe you need to get out more," Hiccup commented dryly. She turned to glare at him.
"Was there anyone else? On either side?" she asked. Hiccup's eyes widened and he began to hyperventilate. The watching Astrid was incandescent and the windows were definitely rattling now.
"No!" he shouted. "Gods, there was never anyone else for me-and never will be. And Astrid..."
"Had three ex-boyfriends, one of whom she remained in contact with..." Throk pointed out. "Theo Carnegie..." Hiccup stared at her.
"What? Theo is gay!" Astrid yelled in a rage. Hiccup was shaking his head in disbelief.
"Theo is gay," he told them scornfully. "He dated Astrid as cover because he was applying for a partnership in Hoark's Law. He came out once he got the post-much to Astrid's annoyance that she had been used like that! But they patched up their differences and he's her lawyer for the firm. We also used him when we bought the house..."
"Sex, jealousy and greed, Mr Haddock," Mala said. "The commonest reasons to kill. Which one is yours?"
"Answer!" Throk snapped, leaning towards the auburn-haired sculptor and he cringed back, closing his eyes in defeat. But Stoick stomped forward and glared at them.
"No, you're done," he said angrily. "Next time, come back with a warrant and my son will only speak in the presence of his lawyer." He gestured to the door. Sharing a glance, the two detectives left and Stoick turned to his son. Hiccup had drawn his legs up to his chest, his face buried in his knees.
"How-how could they think I-I..." he mumbled, his back shuddering. His breathing was hitching and Astrid instinctively tried to hug him, her arm phasing through with a sudden cold sensation. Hiccup shuddered.
"I know you didn't harm me, Hiccup," she whispered gently, pulling back from the unsettling feeling of her arm passing through the man she loved as if he was the ghost, not her.
"I won't let them pin this on you, son," Stoick promised and for a second, Hiccup was still-and then he was on his feet and pressed against his father, sobbing wildly. Stoick's huge arms closed protectively around his only child.
"I miss her," Hiccup sniffed. "But they don't believe I didn't hurt her. They won't find the person who killed her. They just want me to be guilty."
"You're not," Stoick said grimly. "I'll protect you, son." Astrid nodded.
"So will I," she said softly. "I'll protect you-and find the man who killed me. Somewhere, he will think he's safe. But I have all the time in the world to find him."
oOo
It was a cold and grey Fall day as the Priest stood at the head of the grave while the mourners drew closer. Hiccup was dressed in his good suit, his long dark coat slung round his despondent shape. A chilly breeze ruffled his auburn hair as he stared down at the ebony coffin, seeing the simple brass plate:
ASTRID FREJA HOFFERSON.
Toothless was sitting quietly at his side, his big green eyes locked on his master's face. Stoick was standing at his side, black-clad and silent. Snotlout and Fishlegs were there for their friend and Hiccup acknowledged them with a wan smile and nod, but his emerald gaze kept trailing back to the casket, to the words that signalled the end of all his hopes. Heather was present, dressed all in black with Bella, Jeremy and Erin, three of the staff from the company all standing with bowed heads. Quietly, he stepped forward and laid a single red rose on the casket, resting a hand on the wood for a long moment.
"Goodbye, my love," he whispered. "I'll never love anyone else."
Astrid felt her heart break a little more at his words and shook her head from where she stood, unseen, at the foot of the coffin.
"Oh, babe-you can't give up," she said softly. "I love you. I'll always be here for you. You just have to hang on. It will get better-I promise..." He closed his eyes for a long moment and stared at the plaque-and then he stepped back and swallowed as the Priest began to speak.
But when the brief and simple service was over and the others had gone, Hiccup was seated by the graveside, faithful Toothless at his side. Tears dripped from his face as he stared at the hole as the gravedigger was already starting to fill the grave in.
"I don't think I can go on," he whispered. "Astrid...it just hurts without you. Every day is just agony, knowing I have to go on and never see you again, never talk to you again, never kiss you again." He palmed his cheeks but it was beginning to rain and the water was trickling down his face, his hair darkening. "Gods, I never knew what I was missing until I met you. And now...I can never love again. You are my soul-mate."
Astrid sat beside him, looking at his desolate shape, stealing worried glances at him. She sighed. "You need to accept this-and love again. Out there, someone wonderful will be waiting for you. You are a wonderful, caring, loving man. You can't give up on life, just because of me." She knew he couldn't hear but the words made her feel a mite better because sitting through her own funeral had been a very dislocating experience, truly bringing home the finality of her plight. Everyone had been very kind and very complimentary about her-and Heather had been more distraught than Astrid had expected. She sighed again: Heather had helped her build the company and was shocked-as well as stressed because she couldn't access any of the accounts. But that would soon be settled as well.
"Go back home," she said firmly. "If I find you catch your death, I'll kill you!"
Hiccup stared at the grave for a moment longer and then ran his icy hand through his sodden hair.
"Y'know, if Astrid was here, she's call me an idiot or a mutton-head..."
"Or both," Astrid muttered.
"...for sitting out in the rain. I even bet she'd even threaten to kill me if I died of pneumonia from sitting in the rain, right?" Toothless's ears pricked and the dog whined. "Yeah, she'd probably punch me as well. Thor, she had a punch!" His lips stretched into a small, brief smile. "C'mon, boy- let's head back." He rose, pressing his fingers to his lips. "Goodbye, Milady," he murmured and turned away to the waiting car and his father.
Astrid stared, knowing he was going home and would be safe...but as she looked, there were a number of shapes out there not dressed for the weather-and slightly blurred, almost a little out of focus with the real world. Then she recognised one: the old man with the cardigan and the carpet slippers from the hospital. Purposefully, she strode towards the shade but slowed as she approached, not wishing to intrude. Her eyes peered past-and saw the gravestone.
EUGENE ULRICSON
Beloved husband
...
DORIS MAE ULRICSON
Beloved wife
...
But the old man looked up with a smile, his gentle eyes welcoming. "What're you doing here, lass?" he asked and she gestured over to the direction she had come. His eyes widened. "I saw. Good turn-out. There always is for you young 'uns," he commented without rancour. "How are you feeling?" Astrid sighed.
"Lost," she mumbled. "I mean, I want so much to comfort Hiccup and let him know I'm here but I just...can't..." He patted her shoulder kindly.
"He'll sense you-and others can as well: animals, the dying, those in comas, maybe some in that nether world between sleep and awake, some spiritualists..."
"Some?" she asked dryly and was rewarded by a mischievous grin.
"The ones who aren't fakes," he grinned, tapping the side of his nose. "Of course, they can just not want to hear you. But the fakes...well, sometimes you can make life a little more scary for them..."
"How?" she asked directly.
"Have you heard of poltergeists?" he asked her and she nodded. Astrid was a very practical, grounded young woman, very much attached to her physicality and with a very perfunctory observance of the rituals only. To her precise analytical mind, ghosts did not exist, could not exist...and yet...here she was, as a ghost talking to a ghost. And that meant that she needed to expand her paradigm to encompass her new reality-and, more practically, to know as much as she could about her new status in order to protect Hiccup and make sure he was happy. "Some ghosts can physically affect the world around them..."
"How?" she asked and he shrugged.
"Never figured it out myself," he admitted. "You'd need to ask a spirit who has those powers." He leaned closer. "But be careful, lass. They always seem to be very angry, bitter people. I just hope you don't have to become like that to get those powers...because I'd rather not...and rather you didn't either..." She offered a wan smile. The afternoon was fading, the grey drizzle setting in for the evening and light failing fast but at least she was dry and couldn't feel the cold.
"Um...can I ask you one last thing?" she asked. He nodded encouragingly. "Doors. I...I can't open them and..." He laughed at her-not unkindly-and patted her shoulder comfortingly.
"That's living thinking!" he told her lightly. "You don't need to open them, lass. You walk straight through." She frowned.
"I-I tried," she admitted, "but I felt cold, felt the very thought being sucked out of me and..."
"You were getting trapped," he realised. "Don't stop or take your time. Walk fast. Go straight through! They only exist as barriers if you let them. You're a ghost! Walk through walls and be proud of it!" Impulsively, she flung a hug around him.
"Thank you," she said, staring after the long-departed funeral cars. "Now all I have to do is figure out if there is a super-fast ghost means of getting from A to B..." The old man shook his head, chuckling lightly and resting a hand briefly against his back.
"Nope-you have to use transport...or walk...like everyone else," he said, turning back to his grave. Determinedly, Astrid strode out into the grim evening, past the worker who had almost finished burying her.