by Willow Rose
“Aren’t you going to take that?” Sophia asked. “It’s the third time today. Maybe it’s important.”
I exhaled. “Okay.” I grabbed the phone and took it.
“Emma?” Morten sounded agitated.
“You won’t believe what happened here,” I said.
“You won’t believe what happened here either.”
I froze. Something bad had happened? I could tell it was urgent by the tone of his voice.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“There has been another one. Another double homicide. Husband and wife killed on the first night in their new home.”
33
June 2009
“YOU HAVE LOST your mind!”
Louise’s mom looked at her and shook her head. “What have we done to make you do this to us? Have we been such bad parents?”
It was two days after the wedding. Unfortunately, Louise’s parents hadn’t kept their promise to stay away from her. As a matter of fact, they hadn’t gotten off her back ever since the news spread that she was now Mrs. Lund. They kept calling her, and now they had come to her apartment. Louise had let them come in, but now she regretted it.
On the table in front of her lay the newspaper. Louise’s picture was on the front cover.
WHO MARRIES A MURDERER?
Louise didn’t care what they wrote about her. She didn’t care what her parents thought, or if they were embarrassed by what she had done.
“I love him, Mom,” she simply said, over and over again.
“Nonsense,” her mother replied. “You are obviously going through a phase of some sort. I talked to Dr. Wognsen. He thinks you’re being rebellious against us. You’re doing this to make us angry.”
Louise scoffed. She didn’t care what that stupid doctor thought. He was just an old fool. She wondered how a man like him could call himself a psychiatrist. She had seen him when she was in her late teens. All he did was prescribe new medicine for her. He never listened to what she told him. He would let her talk, but then tell her she needed her dose adjusted. It was his answer to everything.
At one point in time, Louise suspected that her mother paid him to just drug her and make her more manageable. Her mother always found it hard to control Louise.
Well here you go, Mom. Try to control this. Ha!
“Why aren’t you saying anything, Hans?” her mother asked, looking at Louise’s dad.
Her father shook his head. “Maybe we should just…” He exhaled when he saw the look on his wife’s face. Louise knew that look. He didn’t want the bother.
“Just what?” she asked. “Maybe we should just what, Hans?”
“Nothing. It was nothing.”
“I truly hope it was,” she said, and corrected her skirt. “I don’t know what has gotten in to you lately. Both of you. It’s like I hardly know you anymore.”
Louise’s mom leaned over on the couch, where she and Louise were both sitting. Then she pinched Louise on the arm, like she had always done when she had no idea how to make Louise behave.
“Ouch!” Louise screamed.
Her mother then slapped her. “Behave child. Behave.”
Louise rose to her feet. “That really hurt, Mom.”
Her mother snorted. “Well, it’s your own fault for being so rebellious. I can’t believe you married that guy. Now I have to clean up your mess for you, don’t I? Just like I always have. You’re such a mess, Louise. Can’t you do anything right?”
Louise felt the anger rise in her again. Bjarke had told her she shouldn’t let her mom talk to her like this. Not anymore. But it was hard…so hard for her to talk back to her mother. She had never dared to before.
“I have done something right. For once in my life, I have done something that makes me happy,” Louise said, and stomped her feet on the carpet.
“Don’t raise your voice at me,” her mother snorted. “And stomping your feet like that on top of it. What is happening to you? It must be that disease of yours. I’ll have to have Dr. Wognsen prescribe some new medicine for you. Yes, that’s just what you need. Do sit back down, dear. You can’t take being upset like this. It’s too much for you.” She patted the seat next to her. “Sit here, sweetheart. Let Mommy take care of you. I know it’s been a rough time for you. You need your mommy here. I’m not leaving anymore. I’ll stay the night, if that’s what it takes to make you feel better.”
“I’m not sick, Mom. Look at the ring on my finger. That means I’m married. I’m a grown woman. I can take care of myself from now on. My husband will help me if I need anything.”
Her mother burst into a loud and very high-pitched laughter. The sound cut through Louise’s bones.
“Your husband, ha! Listen to her, Hans. Her husband. As if someone could ever love you. You have no idea what love is. And no one in his right mind would ever be able to love someone with your illness, someone crazy like you. You need to understand one thing, Louise. You’re not like everybody else. There is something seriously wrong with your head. Am I right, Hans?”
She looked at Louise’s dad, who nodded.
“Isn’t that what the doctors have always told us?” she asked.
Hans nodded again.
“Well, there you go. Your dad agrees. You can never live a normal life, and frankly, marrying that guy proves to me that you are not at all right in your mind. To think you had to seduce a murderer, the scum of the earth, in order to get someone to marry you. Well, it’s just plain pathetic, isn’t it? Isn’t it, Hans? Tell her. Tell her how pathetic she is.”
34
July 2014
THERE WAS ANOTHER one? I sat down in a chair in my kitchen, completely paralyzed. The others were staring at me. I had put the phone down after Morten said goodbye.
“What’s wrong, Mom?” Maya asked.
Sophia and Jack both watched me intensely. “Yeah, you look awful, no offense,” Sophia said.
“There was another one,” I said.
“Another what?” Jack asked.
Sophia understood. She went quiet. “I think I’ll get the whiskey,” she finally said, and stood up.
“It’s eleven o’clock,” Jack said. “Don’t you think it’s a little early for that?”
Sophia found three glasses and put them on the table. Then she poured some whiskey for all of us. “So, where was it this time?” she asked. “Don’t tell me it was another one on our street?”
I shook my head. “It was downtown. On the small street behind the church. I guess that’s why it was blocked this morning when Michael was driving here.”
Jack stared at me. I guessed he had finally figured out what we were talking about. Maya was curious.
“Was it like the neighbors?” she asked.
I nodded. “A couple. Killed in their new home on their first night there.”
I’d decided it was okay for her to know about this. But I still wanted to protect her, since she’d been going through quite a lot lately.
“Maya, go check on your brother, will you?” I said. There was no reason for her to hear all this in detail. She had enough on her plate.
Maya sighed. “Really, Mom?”
“Yes, really. I want to make sure he’s all right. Someone was killed on our island last night, and it scares me.”
“I’m not a baby, you know. I can hear this stuff without getting scared,” Maya protested.
It didn’t help. I was about to share details about this killing that I didn’t want her to hear.
“Please?” I said.
“Okay,” Maya sighed demonstratively and left. I knew she wanted to be one of the adults, but there had to be a limit.
“So, what did Morten tell you?” Sophia asked.
I tasted the whiskey. It was strong. Just what I needed right now, even if it was a little early. It calmed me. “They were killed last night, they assume. There’s no sign of breaking and entering; the killer didn’t force his way in.”
“Who found them?”
&nbs
p; “Believe it or not,” I said. “It was Peter, the curtain guy again. This time, he didn’t walk in. They had ordered new curtains. The wife had already chosen the fabric, but Peter had just gotten a new shipment from Thailand and wanted to show it to her, in case she wanted to change her mind. The door to the house was slightly ajar, and when he realized that, he didn’t dare to enter. Not after what happened the other day. He called the police right away, and Morten was first man on the scene. It was ugly, he said. Blood smeared on the walls and in the bed. Lots of blood. Both had been stabbed to death. The guy’s throat was sliced.”
“Was she wearing shoes?” Sophia asked.
I nodded. “Exact same type of shoes. Red ruby slippers.”
“Like the movie,” Jack said.
I stared at him, while my thoughts wandered. I kept thinking about Victor’s nightmare last night. It made sense. This killer had some sort of weird obsession with the classic movie The Wizard of Oz. It wasn’t a groundbreaking discovery, but it was something. It was a start.
35
July 2014
SUNDAY, MORTEN CAME over for breakfast. I hadn’t told him about the incident with my ex-husband, but was planning to do it once he got there. He didn’t notice the bruise on my cheek. I felt as if he hardly looked at me at all. He was exhausted from yesterday, he told me, and sat down with a deep sigh. I served freshly baked bread with cheese and butter.
“Do you have jam?” he asked.
He loved my homemade raspberry jam, and I still had one jar left in my cabinet. I pulled it out and gave it to him. “Last one,” I said with a smile.
“Ah, I love this stuff,” he said, and threw a big scoop on his bread.
“I know you do.”
“Is everything okay?” he asked. The jam was stuck in several of his teeth.
“I had a couple of tough days,” I said. I didn’t feel like talking about my encounter with Michael after all. Morten didn’t seem genuinely interested in my answer anyway.
“Tell me about it,” he said, and took another bite. “I’m exhausted. Yesterday was rough.” He stopped chewing and washed the food down with coffee.
“Why didn’t you call me?” I asked, hearing how every word I said was loaded with disappointment and hurt.
He looked confused. “What? Call you when?”
“Friday. I didn’t hear anything from you until Saturday morning.”
Morten looked like he was trying to think back. “I’m not following you.”
“I wanted you to call, or at least text me and say goodnight, on Friday after the party. You knew I was at home waiting. You knew I was upset about that party and not being invited.”
Morten rolled his head back and massaged his neck. “I’m really not up for this,” he said with a deep exhale. “Between you and Jytte, it’s getting quite exhausting. There’s always someone nagging me about something. I can never do right by the both of you, even by any of you anymore. I’m getting sick of it, to be frank. On top of it, this case is killing me. This killer leaves no traces and no clues. Just a bloody scene of true devastation. It’s unbearable. I have no energy to be fighting with any of you.”
I looked at him. I could tell he was upset. But it wasn’t because of me or Jytte, was it? It was something else. Something deeper.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
Morten looked at me. He was crying. “I…I…”
I put my arm around him. He pushed it away. “Morten. Talk to me. Is everything alright?”
“I…she…she was pregnant, Emma. He killed her in cold blood, undressed her and put on those awful shoes. She was carrying a little life inside of her. Who would do something like this?”
I leaned back in my chair. I was startled. Shocked. “I…I had no idea. How terrible. How truly awful.”
Morten pushed his plate to the middle of the table and got up. “I don’t think I can do this anymore,” he said.
I stared at him. I couldn’t believe what he was telling me. “What do you mean?” I asked, my voice shaking. “What are you saying?”
“I can’t do this anymore. Any of it. It’s too much for one guy to handle. I’m sorry, Emma. I need some time to think. I need a break from us, from all this…I…”
He looked around like he was searching for something. He paused. I didn’t like the silence. It was like he was making an important decision. It scared me like crazy. I wanted to yell at him, to talk sense into him, tell him to sit down so we could talk properly like we used to. We always used to be able to talk things over. Why couldn’t we do that now? What had happened to us?
I wanted to say all those things, but I waited too long. Before I knew it, he looked at me and said the words I didn’t want to hear.
“I need to go.”
36
July 2014
JESPER MELANDER WAS on fire. Everything was just going perfectly, wasn’t it? Just perfectly. Even better than he had ever imagined. The gruesomeness of his killings was all over the newspapers this Monday morning, and he could hardly contain his joy. He couldn’t keep it inside. He burst into a giggle and started clapping.
He felt like a genius…a freaking composer directing his orchestra.
The papers called him a beast, a predator, a monster, and a psychopath. On TV, they had experts telling people about his motives, analyzing him.
Boy, they couldn’t be more wrong.
He loved the fact was that he was the one orchestrating this whole thing; they had no idea how he was pulling the strings, making sure they only saw what he wanted them to see.
And he had never felt more alive.
He threw the paper with Jacob and Christine Hansen’s faces on the cover on the passenger seat, then looked out the window across the street. A smile spread across his face. There they were. He spotted them in the distance, walking towards the house.
“There you are, my little ones,” he mumbled. “That’s right. Look at the house, fall in love. Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain.”
The couple looked at the front door, then the windows, then walked back and forth a little. Jesper could see that the wife liked it. The husband wasn’t so sure, but he wanted to please the wife. He wanted her to be happy.
“Look at those beautiful small-paned windows. They’re gorgeous,” Jesper Melander said, trying to sound like the woman.
Speaking in a deep voice, trying to sound like the husband, he said: “Yes. They are nice, but not very practical. Think of how hard they’ll be to clean.”
“Oh, but honey. It’s such a pretty house. I really like it, don’t you? Would you buy me this house? I think we could be very happy here.” He continued in a high-pitched female voice.
Then, he laughed at himself. It was amazing how all the couples were so alike. So boringly similar. Luckily for them, he was about to make them more than that. Yes, Jesper was about to make them spectacular.
The hairs on his arm rose at the very thought. Oh, what a joy this was. He wished he could go on with this forever and ever. It was the most fun he’d had in his entire life. Who would have thought it would be such an exciting experience? Such a thrill? He knew it was close to his latest kill, and he wanted to make sure they were absolutely perfect before he acted on it. He didn’t want to rush this and risk making a mistake, but when opportunity knocks…well then you grab it, right?
Jesper grabbed the steering wheel in excitement and held onto it tight. His knuckles were turning white while he was humming one of his favorite songs from his favorite movie of all time:
I'd be brave as a blizzard…
I'd be gentle as a lizard…
I'd be clever as a gizzard…
If the Wizard is a Wizard who will serve.
Then I'm sure to get a brain, a heart, a home, the nerve!
Jesper tasted blood in his mouth and realized his nose had started bleeding. He let go of the steering wheel, found a napkin, and wiped off the blood. He liked the pattern it made in the napkin. It looked like flowers as it was s
preading slowly.
He looked at himself in the rearview mirror, then chuckled. He crumpled the napkin up and threw it on the floor of the car, then his eyes returned to the waiting couple outside the small yellow house that they seemed to adore.
Jesper Melander studied them closely. They really seemed to like the house already, didn’t they? He could tell by the looks on their faces. And they hadn’t even seen it on the inside yet. The wife was smiling. But, more importantly, so was the husband. He was the one sitting on the money. In the end, he was going to make the final decision. It could take days, maybe even weeks, but Jesper would wait for them. He wasn’t in a hurry. It had to be them. It was like waiting for an apple to be ripe. The thought and anticipation of how juicy it would be to sink your teeth into it was almost the best part.
Well almost.
Jesper’s legs couldn’t stay still in the car. He was tapping them in excitement. Oh, this couple was so perfect. Especially her. She was beautiful…gorgeous, actually, and would make a wonderful corpse. She wasn’t beautiful in the way most people found a woman to be beautiful. But to Jesper, she was striking. He liked them fierce and raw. He could already picture her photo on the cover of his newspaper. Best of all were her small delicate feet. He couldn’t think of a better set of feet to wear the shoes, his shoes. Oh, what a delight. How he hoped they would buy this house.
It would be so much FUN!
37
August 2014
THREE WEEKS LATER, my kids were going back to school. I was thrilled at the prospect of being able to finally get some work done while they were away, but I was terrified to send Maya back there without her memory.
A couple of days before school started, I had a meeting with her teachers and the principal at the school and made them aware of her situation. They promised me that Maya would get extra teaching, and they would do anything in their power to help her. They were surprisingly kind and encouraging, and it made me slightly more at ease.
