The Edge of the Village (1/2)
Inspector Kaida Kask returns to her childhood village, seeking solace but finding only secrets. When a body is discovered in the haunted windmill, Kaida is drawn into a web of intrigue.
📝 1,932 words. ⏳ Estimated reading time: 8 minutes.This is the first part of a short story. The second and final part is here.
I
The blades of the windmill groaned, and it was a low, sad noise.
The mist advancing over Ervita was as dark as the black veil that covers mourners. It was a damp grey veil that seemed purposefully holding tightly to every house of the village as if it were a symbol of an evil sign.
Ervita was a quiet, almost forgotten village of less than 300 souls, tucked away from the eyes of the world. The only claim to any sort of recognition was its old windmill, a relic of another era now under national protection as an architectural monument. Despite this status, the windmill, like the village itself, stood in silent obscurity, offering nothing remarkable to the outside world. To most, it was simply another dot on the map, easily overlooked, much like the lives of those who called Ervita home.
Kaida Kask was leaning lightly against a tall post at the outskirts of Paida, Ervita’s county town. Hands in her pockets, touching her badge, she was just staring at the greenery. “Nothing happens in Järva County,” she was thinking again, looking at the endless expanse of the horizon, an endless stretch of fields and forests. She could hear the quietness in her ears again, and yet it didn’t console her.
After ten years, she came back to the city and was looking for quiet, some kind of echo of her childhood. Yet, everything felt altered. At home, the familiar objects had the aura of an unfamiliar place and they appeared to be glimpses of some other dream.
Her phone rang loudly, as if someone shouted during the silence.
Her voice still aching a little from the whiskey she drank last night, she just said “Kask.”
“Madam, we have a victim,” the young officer stammered nervously. “Female, mid-thirties. Found in the old windmill. It’s… It’s very ugly.”
As she began to comprehend the words that were said, she could not help but feel a shiver down her spine. Kaida could already feel herself contemplating her next steps.
“I am on my way. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.” She was already walking toward her car as the mist, seemingly alive, followed her.
As she drew closer to the windmill, the noises made by the rotating blades looked as if they became louder and louder, like the toll of funeral bells at night.
Kaida ran her eyes across all the surroundings and noticed the police cars scattered around and the group of officers near the door.
She did not know, but soon she would not be in front of a body. A new world where she did not know what was happening to the village, her family or even herself.
The officers surrounding her were already occupied with setting up security, making notes, and taking pictures. They looked uncomfortable. She knew the look: she had woken up that morning with the same expression on her own face.
She nodded to one of the officers already at the scene, a man whose creased face was a reminder of his soul. He pointed to the front door.
“The victim is inside. Liisa Sepp. It’s not pretty.”
Kaida took a deep breath and stepped into the windmill. The smell of mildew and rot filled the room, and the wooden floor creaked menacingly under her feet. As her eyes grew used to the low light, she noticed the rough silhouettes of graffiti written on the old stone walls, which she couldn’t instantly identify as symbols.
She knelt down close to the body's location in the middle of the room. Someone had removed it for the autopsy. Something pulsed faintly through her fingers as she hovered just above the bloodied ground, an energy that raised the hairs on her arms. She sensed something unsettling about the situation, something that made her uneasy.
Her eyes moved to a partially open door at the rear of the space, which opened into a little stairway. With a leisurely gait, she ascended the stairs, her weight making each step creak. At the top, a tiny, disorganized loft with shattered furniture and antique tools was waiting for her. However, she noticed a place where there had been some recent disturbance of the dust.
Her fingers touched along the edges of a canvas that was covered with frayed fabric. When she peeled it back, she saw a partially completed painting of a young woman with her startlingly real eyes gazing back at Kaida from the canvas.
She said a few quick words to the officers outside. Then, her mind immediately started to think about what should be done next.
She made her way to her car as the mist clung to the ground outside. It was time to pause, collect herself, and consider what she had witnessed. Her feeling of being uncomfortable was again making her company, like a loyal dog, but much less pleasant than a pet.
II
Kaida entered a small and old coffee shop in Paide, where the smell of freshly brewed coffee modestly blended with the scent of the woods nearby. A gentle jingle over the doorbell announced her arrival and a few of the customers sitting close to their cups looked up. She noticed Tauno sitting back, looking dejected, absorbed in the pattern on the surface of the table.
“Mind if I join you?” She said it buoyantly, even though her heart was heavy.
“Sure, I was just… thinking,” Tauno said. He pointed at the seat across the table.
Kaida looked at his brother squarely.
He was tapping the table with his fingers nervously. “I know it’s been a while since anyone’s been at the windmill. One might expect, at least, they visit the place once in a while.”
“Or see how Liisa is doing,” noting his response. She watched him frowning, clutching his cups tightly.
“I was told Liisa lives there, well… lived there. But you know the talk of the villagers. If only they don’t always comprehend the difference between what is printed and the actual truth.”
“Perhaps,” as she moved closer to him. “But seeing how much you know, you are holding back much more.”
Tauno moved slowly until he looked her in the eye. “What do you want me to say? We all have our secrets. You know that.”
Kaida intentionally remained silent.
He exhaled deeply and raked his fingers through his hair. “Well, I don’t want to get involved. It’s not worth it.”
Kaida repeated with a clear sense of anger beneath the surface, “Not worth it? She’s dead, Tauno. Someone knows something.”
The atmosphere grew heavier and denser. “Some things were better left hidden in this village, but somebody thinks otherwise,” Tauno said.
Just as Kaida was about to state further, her phone rang shrilly on the table, cutting into the air. She looked at the screen; she was breathless.
Tauno wondered, “Who is it?”
“Nothing special,” doing her best to disguise her feelings. The message itself was odd, but inviting, hinting at a lead that felt both tempting in its difficulty.
When Kaida tucked away her phone, she believed she saw something in Tauno’s eyes: was it fear?
She said emphatically, “I will know what happened to Liisa,” holding onto her anger.
Tauno’s face changed to worry and resignation. “Just be careful, Kaida. Not all events are as they appear.”
III
Kaida started to think about the past in Paide that had made her leave the town ten years before. Growing up, she heard a discontented tone in her parents’ voices during those late-night conversations.
She went back to the text she had just received from an unknown number: ‘I know what happened to Liisa. Let’s meet at the lake at six. Come alone.’
A bad feeling tightened in her stomach in an aching note. Who was the author of the message and what had they wanted to tell about Liisa’s death?
At twelve sharp, she was at the lake under an old oak tree. The branches twisted in the wind, seeming to be bones.
Suddenly, someone stepped out of the darkness of the night. The face was indiscernible due to a hooded top. “You’re Kaida Kask, the detective,” the figure said in a low growly voice.
Kaida reached for the gun at her side and automatically holstered it. "What do you know?" she asked, her voice firm.
The figure paused, looking around then looking at Kaida. “Liisa was involved in the act of blackmailing people with the secrets that she collected in the past. She wanted to get whatever she desired. But she pushed it too far, and somebody spoke up.”
Kaida weighed every single word. If Liisa was an extortionist, then it was understandable why Tauno was involved. But who else was on her list, and what else was she using?
He got ready to turn around and leave when Kaida caught his arm. “Wait. How is it that you have all this information?”
The figure pulled free, the eyes shining in the movement though it was impossible to tell in the light whether they were blue or green. "I'm just a messenger, Kaida. But watch out – the truth always has consequences and you are not alone searching for it."
With that, he vanished into the darkness and left Kaida to ponder what she just heard. Once again, more questions than answers.
IV
Kaida’s experience with the strange man was full of certain discomfort. The quiet was heavy around her, similar to some parasitic, hostile force that peeked at her in the darkness and followed her every move.
On the way back to her car, she saw a piece of paper stuck to the windscreen. It was a note, written in a hasty scrawl: “Look into Liisa’s art. The truth is always right there in front of us.”
The windmill was her constant companion as she remembered the painting of the young woman's face which she wanted to complete. She had her eyes shut tight and lips just shaped as if someone had just sketched her portrait and put her to sleep till they finished it.
She put that note in her pocket and started to drive to the art gallery where they were exhibiting Liisa’s work.
The gallery was a small, warmish place, exquisite to smell the scent of oil paints filtered with turpentine. As she was walking inside, the owner greeted her: “I’m the owner, Aino. Can I help you?”
“Can I get some information on Liisa Sepp’s art?” as she showed her badge. “I understand she was a talented artist.”
Aino only nodded. Her pale face became even more pale and her eyes got filled with mischievous tears. “Yes, Liisa was a genius. Some parts of her, though, were much more complicated. Her problems with self-identity were manifested in her work.”
Kaida looked at a number of drawings which represented a number of faces. “These are interesting,” she noted. “Do you know who the subjects are?” she asked.
“She was attempting to unmask people that they are.”
Kaida’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean? Expose?”
“Inspector, Liisa was using her art to reveal secrets. Secrets that people would kill to keep hidden. But I don’t know more than that.”
It was time for Kaida to think again. If Liisa’s art was exposure, it was not surprising that she was killed. But who was the mastermind of the murder? And which were the secrets the killer wanted to hide?
“Thank you very much for your help, Aino. Do you mind if I take a look around?”
“Take your time, inspector,” with genuine pleasure in her eyes.
Hey there!
I’m Simon, a business owner who’s totally passionate about writing (and one day, I hope to marry the two!).
A Call to All Writers!
Suppose you can be in contact with a small group of people on a mission to build a publishing company that champions writers and puts their needs first.
Yes, it’s a publishing company that cares about writers and their success.
Would you be willing to take 2-3 minutes to help them turn this vision into reality?
I’d love to hear what you think about this article! Feel free to share your thoughts in the comments below so we can discuss them.
Thanks so much for taking the time to read! If you enjoyed this post, please consider sharing it with your friends—it really helps us grow! Or you can subscribe to get more posts like this directly to your inbox.