2018
As soon as Quinn lifts the blankets at the entrance to the sweat lodge, a tangle of smells greets her. Burnt sage, the sharp tang of alcohol, a sour hint of body odour and another, herby smell she can’t immediately identify.
‘Andreas?’ she says. ‘It’s only me.’
How her heart lifted when she saw the smoke. Andreas wasn’t on his way to the police station. He was purifying himself. Sobering up. He’d soon be back to his old self and they could talk rationally about recent events.
When she steps inside the sweat lodge, an unfamiliar scent assaults her. Meaty. Fleshy. It travels down her throat and sticks there, making her want to gag.
Mel enters the sweat lodge, forcing Quinn deeper inside. As Quinn’s eyes adjust to the gloom, she sees the outline of a slumped figure.
‘Andreas?’ Her voice is croaky and strained. Her heart batters against her ribs.
Mel pushes past her. ‘Prop open the door. Get some light in here.’
Quinn does as instructed. The dim light that floods in illuminates a terrible scene. Andreas, naked, face down in the lodge’s pile of hot volcanic stones.
She retches, the meaty scent rising up in her throat. She watches as Mel grabs Andreas’ shoulders and pulls him upright.
‘Andreas.’ Mel shakes him. ‘Andreas.’
One side of his face is charred. His eyes are wide open. Vacant. Quinn doesn’t need police training to see he’s already dead.
Mel lays him on the ground, tilts his head back and puts two fingers in his mouth to search for obstructions.
‘It’s too late,’ Quinn says.
‘We have to try.’ Mel puts her hands on Andreas’ chest and pumps hard. Quinn retches again as Mel proceeds to pinch Andreas’ nose and put her lips against his half-melted ones. The image of the grinning skeleton swims before Quinn’s eyes in the pale dawn light. Was the Tarot card trying to warn her Andreas would die?
The sound of Mel’s desperate exhalations is deafening. Quinn thinks of her recent pleas to Andreas to visit the sweat lodge.
After a while, Mel sits back on her heels, wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and spits onto the dusty ground. ‘He’s gone.’
‘No.’ Quinn, shocked into action by the finality of Mel’s words, lays her hands on Andreas’ chest. She pictures violet-coloured energy pouring through her palms and entering his heart. She visualises his heart jumping into action again, beating hard beneath her hands.
She is shaking. No, Mel is shaking her.
‘Quinn,’ Mel says. ‘It’s over. He’s gone.’
Quinn folds over. Presses her forehead against the earth.
‘We should get out of here,’ Mel says. ‘We’ve disturbed the scene enough already.’
‘What scene?’ Quinn already knows what happened. Andreas must have woken up earlier, still drunk and confused. Full of remorse for his behaviour at the restaurant, he decided to get sober again and came to the sweat lodge to detox. Either he passed out on the stones and died of shock or had a heart attack and fell onto the stones after that. ‘I should burn some sage to help Andreas’ soul find its way to the next world.’
‘Quinn.’ Mel grabs her arm. ‘We need to call the police.’
* * *
Quinn allows Mel to lead her back to the house. Aphrodite follows behind, gathering other cats to her as they cross the courtyard. Quinn has a sudden urge to jump into the pool and cleanse herself of the stench of burnt flesh.
Dmitri and Sofia are waiting for them by the door. Sofia in transparent white pyjamas, a shimmering gold pashmina wrapped around her shoulders.
‘We’ve found him,’ Mel says.
Sofia brushes her hair back from her face. ‘That’s a relief.’
‘He’s dead,’ Quinn says.
As Mel explains what they discovered in the sweat lodge, Sofia, her face expressionless, pulls her pashmina tighter around her.
Dmitri sighs. ‘This is sad news.’
‘We have to call the police,’ Mel says.
Sofia and Dmitri exchange glances.
‘That’s what you do in the case of a sudden death,’ Mel says, an ominous tension radiating from her.
Sudden death. Quinn can’t process those words.
‘Don’t you want to consult the others first?’ Sofia asks.
‘This is non-negotiable,’ Mel says.
‘Fine.’ Sofia glances at Dmitri. ‘We’ll sort it.’
Mel shakes her head. ‘I’ll go to the office, and I’ll call them.’
Sofia shrugs. ‘Be my guest.’
‘Last time I checked,’ Mel says, ‘you were the guest.’