by Willow Rose
"Are you sure this is the way?" he asked. "It doesn't look safe to go down this street."
"I know," Signe said. "We'll be fine. Just trust me."
She took another turn around a corner and brought them into an even darker street. "It should be around here somewhere," she said.
"What should?" he asked.
They weren't alone in the streets anymore. In every doorway they spotted figures, mostly women in short dresses. Eyes followed their every move from every building.
"I'm not sure I feel comfortable here," Mads said.
"Don't be so dull," Signe said and pulled his arm.
Dark faces stared at them from corners and doorways. Dogs barked. The distant sound of music came from somewhere. Lights coming from the windows were dampened by heavy red curtains. Signe took one last turn into an alley with no outlet. Then she stopped.
"This is it," she whispered her voice trembling with excitement. "This is just perfect."
"This place?" Mads asked with horror in his voice. "What is it? Why are we here? Signe I really think we should be getting back."
They weren't alone in the alley, they soon realized. From the corners and doorways on the sides, there were movements…there were people. Dark faces on well-built bodies were approaching them slowly.
Mads froze. This place scared him. "Let's get out of here, Signe. Come. Let's go dancing at that club we went to last night. You had fun there, remember?"
"No. We've been to every club in town. It's all just for the tourists. I want to experience the real Turkey…the raw and dangerous side to this country. Not just the plastic part made neat for us tourists, no…the dirty and disgusting part. The part that is hidden."
"But…Signe. You know it isn't safe. The hotel owner specifically told us to stay far away from areas like this! Don't you remember? He told us to remember that Turkish men didn't have same respect for women as they do in Europe. That a blonde girl like you could easily get herself into trouble. These are not people you should mess with. Don't you remember the case of the nine year old Norwegian girl who was raped here?"
Signe smiled as the men came closer. Mads didn't understand what she was up to. What was the idea with this? What was her plan? Then she threw her head back and took off the scarf to let her blonde hair fall down. She grabbed her coat and pulled it open, revealing her body dressed in nothing but a very small tight black mini dress with front openings showing her voluptuous breasts very clearly. Signe threw the coat at Mads, then moaned in enjoyment as the men approached her like wolves approaching prey.
"Signe, please listen to me," Mads pleaded anxiously. He couldn't believe his eyes. What the hell what she doing? "We need to leave now. You don't realize what you're doing. You're drunk."
But Signe didn't answer. Five men were now circling her, one pushed Mads to the side. Another grabbed Signe by the hair and pulled her close to him.
"You wanna fuck, bad boy?" Signe asked.
The nasty man smiled. "Yes. We fuck you little girl. We fuck you so bad you never walk again."
Mads shrieked as another man grabbed Signe from behind and made her bend forward, then grabbed her dress and pulled it up. Another man slammed his fist into her face and she fell to the ground with a scream. Mads felt so helpless. These men were so much bigger than he. Why would Signe do this to herself? To them? Why? There was no way Mads could save her this time.
"Little bitch," one of the men said, then pulled his pants down. "Now, you suck."
The man who had hit her in her face grabbed her by the hair and pulled her up towards his crotch. Someone was behind her, trying to climb her. Mads started screaming.
"HELP! Someone help us, please?"
As the man in front of her tried to stuff his thing into her mouth, Signe opened her mouth and then screamed.
"Now Mads! The coat! Check the pocket!"
The pocket?
Frantically, Mads grabbed the coat and pulled out a gun. He gasped when he saw it. Signe was screaming loudly now. The men were all over her, hitting her, and trying to rape her.
"Do it, Mads!" she screamed. "Kill them! Save me!"
Mads was sweating heavily, still staring at the weapon he was holding in his hand. He had shot rifles many times on his parent's estate. They went hunting every year on the first day of October, riding their horses, and he had shot everything from deer to foxes. But he had never shot people.
Signe was screaming loudly now. They were really hurting her. Mads lifted the gun. He was shaking and had to use both hands to hold it still. He opened his mouth and let out a terrifying scream, then pulled the trigger. One after another, they fell to the ground. Mads shot the men right in the heart, the way his father had taught him to shoot wild animals as a child.
"Get off of her, you motherfuckers!" he roared.
Seconds later, they were all on the ground. Blood was gushing from their wounds. One was still moving in spasms. Mads stood over him, then shot him in the face while screaming his rage and furor out.
Signe was still lying on the ground, moaning in pain from all the punches. Mads ran to her and picked her up. Her face was swollen and red. The area around her right eye was already swollen to twice its usual size. Signe was crying. Then laughing, then crying again.
Mads kneeled next to her and picked her up. He carried Signe over his shoulder all the way back to the hotel.
In their room at the resort, he put ice on her bruises and held her hand while she fell asleep. Meanwhile, in his quiet mind, he promised himself that tomorrow morning he would leave her. Tomorrow, he would do it.
Tomorrow.
23
April 2014
BETTINA NIELSEN GREETED US in the doorway of a small house outside of town flanked by her three big German Shepherds. She was about the same age as Sascha, only nineteen and worked at the hospital as a porter to make money enough to travel, she told us, when we were shown into the kitchen.
"I want to see the world before I start studying," she said and fed one of the dogs a treat. "I'm travelling through Asia with my backpack this summer. That's why I still live with my parents. It's easier to save up money this way."
I sat down on a kitchen chair and Bettina offered us coffee. We accepted.
"A lot of kids did that too, when I was your age," I said, thinking about my own years after high school. They hadn't exactly turned out the way I had wanted them to. Getting pregnant all of a sudden hadn't exactly been part of my dreams for my life after high school. I had wanted to travel as well, like most of my classmates did. I had wanted to just live the easy life of a backpacker through Thailand, India and Bali. But that hadn't been in the cards for me.
"The way I figure, it's now or never, right? I mean, before I marry and the kids come along and I'm unable to do anything," Bettina said.
"Well you're not exactly unable to do anything," I said. "It's just something different."
"Yeah, I'm not really looking forward to that. All the diapers and the lack of sleep. It's not really me. Not yet that is. Maybe I'll change my mind. My older sister never did. She never had children and she's past thirty now. I don't know what’s best. To live alone as a pathetic thirty-year old and still go to parties like you're nineteen or to have children destroy your life. I know I don't want to be anything like my sister, so maybe I’ll change my mind."
"Most women do," I said, while looking through my notes from our visit at Sascha's.
Bettina served us some coffee and Danish butter cookies, then sat down at the table next to us. "I hope they're not too old," she said as she put the plate of cookies in front of me. "I don't know when my mom bought them."
"I'm sure they're fine," I said and grabbed one. I tasted it. "They're good," I said with a smile.
"Great," Bettina said. "I never touch those things. Too much sugar, you know."
I forced an awkward smile and stared at the skinny girl. "Well, you're missing out," I said and grabbed another one, just to show her I wasn't going to let her comme
nt get to me.
"So, you wanted to talk to me about Mads Schou?" she asked. "I’m surprised you came to me, since I really don't know him that well. We both went to the same high school, but he was two years older than me, so I hardly think he knew who I was. I've never really spoken to him."
"That's funny," I said and looked at her to see if I could tell if she was lying to me. "Because we spoke to Sascha DuBois earlier today and she told us you were talking to Mads Schou at the party on the day he was hit by the car."
"She did what?" Bettina asked.
"As a matter of fact, she told us you were flirting with him," Morten said in the tone of a police officer. "Is that true?"
"No! Absolutely not," Bettina said. "She said that? That little…conniving…I can't believe she would…"
"So, you’re telling us she’s lying?" I asked. I sipped my coffee and decided not to have another cookie. They did taste a little old.
"Yes, she’s lying. I never spoke to the man. She was the one who always had a thing for him. She always talked about him at school, about how rich he was and how gorgeous he was. Constantly blabbering on and on about him. And he was single throughout all of high school, so she thought she might have a chance and spoke with him at every party. But he never showed any interest in her. And suddenly rumors said he had found this other girl. She was from another school, I believe. Quite the troublemaker who had been thrown out of several schools over the years. She never finished high school, as far as I know. He ended up marrying her like less than a year after he graduated. It was quite the story around here, since everybody believed he only married her because she was pregnant."
I almost spat out my coffee. "She was pregnant?"
Bettina shrugged. "Yes. He knocked her up and had to marry her, but later it turned out she wasn't pregnant after all."
"She lost it?" I asked.
"Well, no one really knows what happened. Rumors say she made it up to get him to marry her. Actually, the story goes it was her mother who made her do it. After what I heard, Mads' mother tried to pay off Signe to not date her son anymore and then Signe's mother decided to go for the big bucks, if you know what I mean. She smelled a way for her daughter to get out of the slums and, since Signe couldn't stay in a school long enough to get an education, this was a way for her to be secure. Marry the guy and live the rich life. Maybe divorce him later and run away with half of the money."
"Wow, that's cynical," I said.
"Right? I can't believe anyone can think like that. But, as I said, it's all just rumors. I don't know if it’s true or not. But I guess they say there is always a grain of truth to a rumor, huh? But people did say that Mads really loved her. That he would do anything for her. I don't know if she ever loved him. I don't know if she is even capable of loving anyone. She is one messed up kid."
"How do you know?" I asked.
"Well most people know what happened to her in her childhood. Her dad was arrested for pedophilia when she was nine years old. God only knows what he did to her before it was discovered. The story was in the newspapers and everything. Apparently, he was a kindergarten teacher and had groped and touched a lot of children in class, trying to make them believe it was natural and normal. They found tons of child-porn on his computer and, when they interviewed Signe, she talked about sex like it was an everyday thing and she wasn't a virgin anymore. Everybody in town felt so sorry for the girl."
I felt appalled and slightly nauseated. This didn't seem to have anything to do with Maya's disappearance, but it still interested me. I had a hard time understanding these kinds of things. How you can hurt your own child like that. I missed Maya again and hoped that she was somewhere safe. A big part of me had started to wish that she had just run off and was hiding somewhere till the storm blew over, but in my heart I knew that wasn't the truth.
"So you say that Sascha was lying when she told us you were flirting with Mads Schou at the party. How do you know? Couldn't she just have seen you standing close to each other ordering a drink or something?" Morten asked.
"No. I know she’s lying because she was the one talking to him. She was in the bar talking to him, flirting with him until the lights went out. We talked briefly at the party and she told me she had heard that Mads and Signe were having trouble and that she was going to try and make a move on him. She was very happy to see that Signe wasn't there and took it as a sign to move in on him. I told her it was probably too early, since everyone knew how much he loved Signe, but Sascha was certain it was the right time. I even saw her follow him outside as soon as the doors were opened and everyone ran out.
I stopped and looked up from my notepad. "She did what?"
"When I got outside, I saw Mads run behind the building like he was running for his life and I saw Sascha run after him."
24
April 2014
WE THANKED BETTINA FOR her time, then drove back to Sascha's apartment and knocked on the door. She looked very surprised when she saw us.
"Did you forget something?" she asked.
"You lied to us," I said. "We talked to Bettina."
Sascha's smile froze. Her face went red. "Don't believe anything she says. She is a liar."
"Don't give me that," I said. "Can we come in?"
"I don't owe you anything. It's not like you're the police or anything."
Morten held his badge in the air. "As a matter of fact, I am," he said. "Please let us come in and hear your side of the story. The truth this time."
Sascha looked like she was weighing her options. Then she bowed her head and opened the door to let us inside. She sat with her hands in her lap and didn't look at us as she spoke.
"Okay, so I was the one who talked with Mads at the party until like ten minutes before the lights were turned out. I had to use the restroom and left him. Once I got back into the lobby, everything went dark. I didn't see him again until I spotted him outside."
"Why did you lie?" I asked.
Sascha shrugged. "I guess I didn't like to admit I was defeated. Mads showed no interest in me whatsoever."
"I don't think that was it," I said. "I think there’s something else. Something you're hiding from us. You saw something, didn't you?"
Sascha shook her head. "No. No. I didn't. I spoke to him for a little while, then he lost interest."
I sighed and leaned back on her couch. I couldn't believe she would continue to lie to us. "Come on, Sascha," I said. "Tell us the truth. We know you ran after him when you got outside. It's important to us."
Sascha closed her eyes for a short while. I gave her a second to gather her thoughts. When she opened her eyes, they were moist.
I gasped. "You saw what happened to Mads, didn't you?"
A tear left the corner of her eye and rolled across her cheek. She wiped it away. "It was awful. I…I haven't told anyone."
"Why didn't you tell the police?"
"Because I was afraid she would come after me next," she said. "She saw me standing there. She knew I saw what happened."
"Whoa. Let's go back a little," I said. "Who saw you? There was someone else there?"
Sascha nodded. Morten found a paper towel for her to wipe her face. She was crying more now.
"Who was she?" I asked.
"I don't know. She was just suddenly there. I hadn't seen her. Everything was so chaotic. People were running outside. I was close to the door, so I was one of the first ones out. When I got out of the theater, I was looking to see if I could find Mads and I spotted him running around the back, then decided to follow after him. Maybe we could split a taxi, I thought. Maybe I could buy myself a little extra time in his company, let him get to know me better, maybe ask if he wanted to go out for a drink one day. I don't know what I was thinking, but I followed him around the building and towards the street. He was running really fast and I couldn't catch up with him, so eventually, I slowed down and realized I would never talk to him again. That was when I saw her. She appeared out of the blue. She was running up righ
t behind him. I don't think he saw her until it was too late. Then she did it. She pushed him into the street where he was hit by the car. It all happened really fast. I had no idea what to do. I saw him lying on the asphalt and the woman standing still on the sidewalk staring at him like she enjoyed watching him in pain. That was when I decided to run back. I was terrified. If that woman was capable of pushing Mads like that, then she wouldn't hesitate before doing the same to me if she knew I had seen it. I was certain she would want to kill me."
"So you ran back and kept quiet?" Morten asked.
"Yes. I'm, not proud of it, but that was what I decided to do. I was so scared. I never saw who she was, though. She was wearing a blue shirt and black pants. She had her red hair in a ponytail. That's all I remember. I only saw her from behind. All I noticed was that she seemed tall. That's all."
"The car," I said frantically. Finally, some light was shed onto what had happened. "Did you see what happened to the girl who was driving the car?"
Sascha shook her head. "No. I didn't even see her at all. I’ve read about her in the papers and all, but I didn't look at her at all. I only looked at Mads. I was certain he was dead. It was a pretty hard hit. I can still hear the sound of the car hitting his body when I'm lying in my bed at night. I dream about the hit constantly, about him being thrown into the air and then that awful sound of him hitting the asphalt afterwards. Makes me shiver just thinking about it."
"You have to go to the police with this," Morten said. "They need to know."
Sascha nodded with a bowed head. "Of course. I guess I knew I was going to have to eventually. I just hoped it wouldn't be necessary. I hoped they would figure it out on their own, but they haven't, have they?"
"No," Morten said.
I left Sascha's apartment with a strange feeling inside. I was happy that I had gotten a step closer to what happened to Maya and now I could finally say that she had been telling the truth when I spoke to her. She didn't stand a chance. The guy was pushed into the road in front of her. She couldn't have stopped. But I still didn't know what happened to her next. I had an awful feeling that woman had something to do with her disappearance. But who was she? And more importantly. Where was she?
