by Willow Rose
Hanne patted Patrick on the back with a smile. He considered grabbing her and throwing her off the boat. They were alone on the top deck. No one would ever know. He could say that she fell by accident because she was leaning over the edge to look at the water. Patrick felt the rush of adrenalin again. Ah, that wonderful sensation of being alive that he loved so much. He had been so angry all morning after skimming through the morning paper at the hotel and realizing that there was nothing in it about the body of the Asian girl that he had placed in the restroom at the rest area, sitting on the toilet. He had even left his signature mark on her body. But it hadn't had the effect he wanted it to. At least not yet. Patrick liked reading about his own killings. He especially liked to read about how the police still had no clue who he was. Hell, they didn't even know how many he had killed so far. Only about half of them had been in the papers anyway. That's why he started to leave the mark. To make them see the connection. He wanted them to know what he was capable of. How powerful he was.
He smiled mischievously and looked at the small woman next to him. The water was splashing underneath the ferry. It was still freezing cold at this time of year. She would die very quickly after she hit the water. Now Patrick was chuckling and Hanne noticed.
She smiled. "It's good to see you happy again. For a moment there I was afraid you were getting burnt out or something. It's important to take good care of our host, believe me I know all about that. I have learned my lesson. Can't repeat what happened to Rikke Bo when she was the host of Dancing Stars. I worked on the show back then, when she lost it, and that was not fun."
Patrick laughed, but not because of what Hanne had told him. He laughed because he imagined Hanne's facial expression on her way down towards the water. He tried to imagine what would go through her pathetic mind in those terrifying last moments when she knew she was going to die and she knew who had thrown her. Would she feel regret for being such a cold bitch? Would she think of her children that she was always away from? Or would she maybe regret having spent so many hours doing ridiculous TV shows that no one cared about and that were forgotten as fast as they became a success? Maybe not. Maybe she would just think: You fucking bastard!
That's what he hoped.
"That's my boy," she said and patted him on his shoulder again. "Smiling and laughing again. That's what I like to see. Those shiny white teeth. Keep it up, Patrick. They're hungry for you on that island. They are desperate for that smile of yours."
Patrick put his arm around her shoulder and felt how she was relaxed by his gesture, probably thinking that he liked her. He tightened his grip slightly and felt her get uneasy. This was it. This was when the anxiousness hit, when the victim first started suspecting that something was wrong, but still refused to believe it.
"Wow you have strong arms," she said with a slight shiver to her voice. Patrick adored the sound of that shiver. It was what fed him.
"I work out," he said and tightened it some more. All it would take would be one quick movement and she would be flying. She was so tiny, so light, it was going to be a piece of cake.
"I feel that. You're kind of hurting me a little," she said.
That's the point, bitch!
A door opened behind them. A cameraman Patrick didn't remember the name of came out to them. "Hey guys, they need you downstairs."
Patrick sighed deeply and loosened his grip. The moment had passed. Hanne pulled his arm away and started walking towards the door leading to the stairs. She opened the heavy iron door and looked at him.
"Are you coming?"
Chapter 11
July 1997
The trip in the ice cream truck was very long and Nina couldn't even look out of the windows since there were none. And most unfortunately, there was no ice cream either. None that she could see. So Nina started knocking on the door she had come in from.
"Hello? Ice cream lady? I think I'm locked in the car."
But no one answered. The car was still moving and it was very dark. Nina never liked the dark much and her mother always left a small nightlight on so she wouldn't be scared. But she was scared now, really scared. She didn't even want ice cream anymore. She wanted to go back to the playground, back to her mother, back to where she would be safe.
"Hello? Could someone please help me out?" she tried again, but still no answer. Now Nina felt like crying. This wasn't fun anymore. And it was her own fault for disobeying her mother, for not doing as she was told. Nina curled up in a corner and started crying. Carefully she folded her hands and started praying.
"Please God, please help me get out of this. Help me get back home. I promise I will always do as I'm told from now on. I'll never complain about having to wear dresses again. I promise. I really do, God."
Nina wiped her tears away as she felt the vehicle come to a stop. There were voices outside, then finally someone seemed to be touching the door.
That's it. God heard me. I'm going home now.
The door slid open and the ice cream lady's face appeared. Nina smiled, relieved, but then realized the woman wasn't alone. There was a man with her and he didn't have nice eyes. He was holding something in his hands. A white cloth that as he stepped forward, pressed against Nina's mouth and nose, so she could hardly breathe. She tried to scream, but nothing but muffled sounds came out. She tried to move, but suddenly she felt so tired she could hardly lift her arms. Dizziness came over her and everything started spinning. She couldn't even hold her eyes open and soon she was flying in a sea of stars.
When she woke up hours later, she was in a flat. She was lying on a bed. When she opened her eyes, the ice cream lady came to her and handed her a piece of bread and some water in a bottle. Nina drank and ate greedily. Then the lady followed her to the bathroom and back to the bed again afterwards. She didn't look as nice as she had when she’d offered Nina the ice cream. No, she seemed angry, or upset or something.
"Where am I?" Nina asked when she lay down on the bed again. The mattress was green and had yellow spots on it.
The ice cream lady didn't answer, she kept looking at Nina, like she was examining her. Then she asked her to open her mouth and she held on to her chin way too hard, while looking at her teeth. The lady then grabbed her dress and pulled it up. Nina whimpered. She didn't like it, but the lady continued anyway. She grabbed her panties and pulled them down, then examined her privates. Afterwards, she walked away. Nina pulled her panties back on while sobbing and watched as the lady talked to the man in the other end of the room. They had a short conversation while the man’s eyes were fixed on Nina. He handed the lady what appeared to be a roll of money. Uncomfortable with the man’s glare, Nina looked down at the floor while sitting on the edge of the bed. Soon the lady came back. She sat down next to Nina.
"I bet you're wondering why you're here," she said.
Nina nodded while pressing back tears.
"Well, your mother no longer wants you. She told us to take you away." The woman paused and looked at Nina. Then she shook her head. "What did you do, huh? Have you been acting very bad lately?"
Now Nina couldn't hold back the tears any longer. She couldn't believe it. Her own mother didn't want her?
"Don't feel sorry for yourself," the lady said. "You did this. You put this upon yourself. If only you had listened to your mother more, then she wouldn't have sent you away, now would she? I guess you're just too much for her to handle, so now we have found someone else who will take good care of you. But you must promise me to behave. You must promise me to do everything this nice man tells you to. His name is Sergei. He will bring you to a new home where he has work for you to do. If you do it nicely and to his satisfaction, he will take good care of you, okay?"
Nina sniffled and looked at the man with the almost black eyes. He looked dirty and sweaty. His hair was glistening. How could her mother sent her away to be with a man, when they both hated men so much? Was that her punishment for her? Had she really been that bad?
"We leave in a few seco
nds," he said. His Danish was poor and hard for her to understand.
"Where are we going?" Nina asked while wiping away her tears.
The man smiled. Some of his teeth were brown and Nina wondered if that was because he hadn't brushed them well enough like her mother always told her to.
"Don't you worry about that," the lady said and helped Nina get up. "Just behave and everything will be fine."
"Come on," Sergei said in horribly bad Danish. "The car is waiting outside."
Chapter 12
April 2013
On Wednesday at around noon I usually had lunch with my neighbor from across the street, Sophia. She was a teacher at the local school but was on maternity leave now with her newborn. Today I had prepared a nice salmon quiche with spinach and feta cheese. It was one of my favorite dishes to make.
Sophia came over just before noon and sat in my kitchen while her baby was sleeping in the carriage. Like most Danish moms, she had left the carriage outside on the porch so the baby could sleep in the fresh air, as the doctors recommended. That always made them sleep better and longer and it was good for their lungs and the whole respiratory system. Her baby was a heavy sleeper so usually we would have two hours to chat, something we both needed a lot. With her six kids and no husband, she needed to unburden herself every now and then, and so did I, especially today since I had just found out the day before that my dad had a girlfriend.
"I can't believe he never told you about her," Sophia said while I cut a piece of the quiche and put it on her plate. "I mean how long have they been going out?"
"He said they had known each other for two months."
"Two months?"
I nodded and poured some water in our glasses.
"I don't believe it," Sophia continued. "I mean you'd think we would have known, right? This is a small island. Someone must have seen them together. Why haven't we heard anything?"
"My guess is they have kept mostly to themselves. Maybe because my dad was afraid I'd get upset." I put some quiche on my fork and put it in my mouth. It wasn't the greatest quiche I’d made, but it would do.
"I'm loving this, by the way," Sophia said with her mouth full pointing at the food on her plate with her fork. "It's really good. I tell you, if you didn't cook for me every Wednesday like you do, I wouldn't get anything proper to eat all week. I do not have the time or the energy to cook. I mean, I do spaghetti and meat sauce and lasagna now and then, but nothing like this."
I was flattered. I had never been much of a cook, but the last couple of months I had been practicing a lot, much to my children's surprise and delight. They loved my food and that made me feel really good. I had discovered that I liked pleasing others with good food. And for some strange reason I enjoyed watching them eat it. Maybe it was because my mother had never cooked much and I was always so jealous of my classmates who came home to freshly baked buns or cake and all I ever had after school was cereal that I poured into a bowl myself. I wanted to be different than my mother so I had started baking a lot lately and then I ate what I’d made with my kids and sometimes my dad, in the afternoon once they got back from school. It wasn't good for my weight, but the kids seemed to love getting a break like that with me, especially Maya who was always on the run these days. It was good for her to have that break every now and then and in that way I got to talk to her as well. Victor was different. He just ate while staring at the table saying close to nothing, before he stormed out to the yard to play with his precious trees.
"Well I'm glad you like it," I answered and ate another bite. I looked at the puffed dough in the corner of the kitchen table. I was going to make it into small buns for this afternoon as soon as we were done eating. Maybe I’d put some egg and sugar on top to make it a little sweeter. "So are your kids ready for the audition this Saturday?" I asked before sipping my water.
Sophia nodded. "Ida is singing all day, so is Christoffer. And it's the same songs over and over again. I'm going nuts, I can't get them out of my head again." Sophia chuckled then kept on eating. "You're still going with me, right?"
"Sure. I want to see what it is like."
"Good. Cause I need you to take care of the three young ones while Christoffer and Ida audition. I can have the baby in a sling on my chest, but the other ones, I don't know."
"What if we ask Maya to take care of them at home, in your house?" I asked hoping to get out of babysitting myself. "I'll pay her what she wants. You don't have to worry about that."
Sophia's face lit up. "That would be great. I'm really looking forward to going and it would be rough with all those kids, you know?"
"I know," I said and got up. "I'm sure she won't mind. Do you want some coffee?"
"Yes, please. That would be great. I never have time to make real coffee anymore. I use that instant crap and it really tastes like water. I need my coffee good and strong."
I smiled and poured water in the pot. "I'll make it so strong you won't sleep for days," I said. Suddenly our conversation was interrupted by the sound of sirens.
Sophia got up from her chair. We both walked to the window. Far away we could see the island's only police car driving towards the beach. It was very rare that the police car actually had to put on sirens, so naturally we were curious.
"What's going on?" Sophia wondered aloud.
Chapter 13
April 2013
We put on our jackets, took the baby-carriage, and walked down to the beach following the sound of the siren and the blue light in the distance. When we got down there we spotted all of the island's six police officers running around like they were searching for something. On a dune in the distance, we spotted a woman talking to one of the Officers. She was sitting on a stretcher belonging to an ambulance parked right next to her. Sophia and I looked at each other, then decided—without speaking a word—that we had to get closer to figure out what was going on. Luckily one of the officers, Morten Bredballe, came towards us just as we started descending towards the beach area. Sophia knew him since he had often helped her contacting the father of a few of her children that still lived on the island, when he didn't pay his child support.
"What's going on here?" she asked.
Officer Morten looked at her perplexed. "A child is missing. A little girl."
I gasped thinking about Helle's story. "Could she have drowned?" I asked.
The officer sighed. "That's what I would have usually thought, but this is different."
"Why is it different?" I asked.
"Well the woman you see over there, is the girl's governess. She was down here with her, when she disappeared. She saw her talk to someone, then walk off with that person willingly. The woman tried to run after them and stop them, but fell and hurt her leg. She couldn't get up again on her own.
"So she saw who it was?" Sophia asked. "Can't you just find that person then?"
"She didn't see the face. She doesn't even know if it's a man or a woman. All she saw was someone with a dog, dressed in a heavy raincoat walk up to the child and talk to her. Then the girl took the person's hand and they walked off. Disappeared between the dunes over there," Officer Morten said and pointed to our right. A small trail went up through the dunes and into the grass. The place was packed with summer cabins behind it. "Do you think the girl might be in one of the cabins?" I asked.
"That's where we're going to look now. Knock on every door there is," he said with a deep sigh. "I hate when it's kids, you know?"
I nodded. That had to be the worst part of the job as a policeman, when it was an incident that involved children. "Who wears a raincoat when the sun is shining?" I asked.
The officer shrugged. "That's what I would like to know. The governess first thought it was harmless for the girl to talk to the person and the dog and that she would eventually come back. So at first she didn't do anything. Plus she was on the phone with the kid's father. Well, it's all a mess right now. All I want is to find the girl before this evolves into a bigger problem. It might just be so
me deranged old man or woman, maybe even someone senile who thinks it was his or her daughter or something. Maybe they offered her some candy. Hopefully whoever it is will let her go back home soon."
"We'll keep an eye out for her as well," I said. "What's her name?"
"Her name is Josephine Gyldenstjerne. They're visitors to the island, but come here every year."
I looked at the officer. "Gyldenstjerne? As in the Count and Countess Gyldenstjerne? Is she their daughter?"
Officer Morten sighed again. "Yes, she is. That's why we're a little nervous that this isn't a coincidence. This might be a kidnapping for ransom."
"I see."
"How old is she?" Sophia asked. "We need to know what we're looking for in case we do see something."
"She's six years old. Has long blonde hair and blue eyes. Slightly chubby. She's wearing a white dress. That's all I know. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go."
"Of course, officer. We'll keep an eye out for her," I said and let him walk past us.
As Sophia and I walked back towards our own neighborhood I couldn't help think that Helle's daughter had also been six years old when she disappeared.
Chapter 14
April 2013
Josephine walked inside the old lady's house and followed her into the living room. She had stopped thinking about Ms. Camilla and her parents. All that was in her head was the spectacular doll and she really wanted to see all of them. Ms. Camilla had to wait. Josephine knew she would be in trouble for this, but she was already in deep trouble for running down to the beach when Ms. Camilla had told her not to, so what did it matter?
Django was playing around, and Josephine patted his back. As she followed the nice old lady into the living room, she paused and gasped. In there, on shelves from wall to wall, in every chair and on every couch, were dolls. Hundreds, maybe even thousands of them. Dolls in all sizes and all with different faces. Josephine, who had always loved dolls more than anything in the whole wide world, shrieked with joy.
