The white stains had taken on a bluish sheen. They had hammered on the door and shouted in the howling wind for a while before smashing a window to an empty bedroom. A bedroom with an unmade bed and a smell that caused Harry to wonder whether someone had slept there very recently. He almost placed a hand on the bed to see if it was still warm. And even though the sitting room would have felt warm anyway – they were so cold – Harry put a hand inside the wood burner to feel if there might be any warm embers under the black ash. But there were not.Bellman moved closer to the stove. ‘Did you see anything apart from the snowmobile down in the ravine?’They were the first words he had uttered since running after Harry, begging not to be left behind and throwing himself on the back of the snowmobile.‘An arm,’ Harry said.‘Whose arm?’‘How should I know?’Harry stood up and went to the bathroom. Checked the toiletries. The few there were. Soap and a razor. No toothbrush. One person, one man.
