by Alex Dahl
Mikulasz Vrcesk Eilaanen (41), an Estonian national with known connections to trafficking networks operating on the dark web, was involved in the early stages of the Blix abduction, but is no longer thought to have been central. The decomposed remains of Eilaanen have been recovered in the wreckage of a burned-out vehicle at Ferme du Tachoué, the farm owned by Jacqueline Olve Thibault. A second body, identified as Mr Antoine Berrier (29), of Salies-du-Salat, Haute-Garonne, was also recovered. Mr Berrier is thought to have been gravely injured before the fire but died of smoke inhalation as the flames ravaged the farmstead in the early hours of 12 May. His involvement in the abduction of Lucia Blix remains unclear.
It was Mr Berrier who tipped off the police in Saint-Girons in the hours before his death by sending them a photograph of Lucia Blix, who was living as part of the Olve Thibault family under the false name Lulu-Rose Thibault. It is thought that the kidnap of Lucia Blix was orchestrated by Jacqueline Olve Thibault, who lost her husband as well as one of her two daughters in a tragic hit-and-run in Lillehammer in 2012. The driver of the vehicle that killed Olve Thibault’s family members, Marcus Meling, is currently serving a twelve-year prison sentence for manslaughter. Elisa Blix is thought to have had a long-standing extramarital affair with Nicolai Olve Thibault in the years before his death, further complicating this extraordinary and tragic story. Police are investigating revenge motives for Mrs Blix’s relationship with Mr Olve Thibault.
As a result of several years’ meticulous planning, Jacqueline Olve Thibault was able to slip under the radar after taking Lucia by using false identities, most likely provided by Mikko Eilaanen. She was able to assimilate Lucia Blix into the local community by using the birth certificates of her own daughters who were twins, and passing Lucia off as the twin that died in the accident. Neighbors and villagers in this remote corner of south-western France did not raise the alarm or become suspicious as Mrs Olve Thibault settled in the area, as she had previously spent significant amounts of time there with her husband and the two little girls. Mrs Olve Thibault is thought to have enlisted the help of Eilaanen to take Lucia from her family in Norway, and to have murdered him when Lucia was safely deposited in the Ariège, and he was no longer needed.
Lucia Blix was intensively taught French before becoming a pupil at the École Lambert in Saint-Girons from September 2018, where no one grew suspicious of her real identity. Jacqueline Olve Thibault explained to the school that her daughters’ French was imperfect due to the years the family had previously spent living in Norway. By the time Lucia’s true identity was uncovered, the child is thought to have acquired near native level fluency in French.
In the aftermath of the accident that killed Nicolai and Rose Olve Thibault, Mrs Olve Thibault spent a significant amount of time in a closed psychiatric ward at Lillehammer Hospital. She is thought to have been suffering from psychotic hallucinations and to have been acutely suicidal at the time.
Josiane Olve Thibault was placed into emergency foster care at the time but was returned to her mother in the fall of 2013. They are then thought to have spent a year living in Lillehammer, before living in the French Pyrenees under the radar of local official authorities until shortly before the abduction of Lucia Blix.
On Wednesday, senior features journalist Selma Eriksen will explore several previously unknown aspects of this extraordinary case with Elisa Blix, in a first world-exclusive interview, live on television. (Dagsposten Live TV, 7.45 p.m.)
The search for Mrs Olve Thibault and her surviving daughter, Josiane Olve Thibault, remains active and urgent. Members of the public are advised to exercise caution if they observe Mrs Olve Thibault or come into contact with her, as she is believed to be highly dangerous if confronted.
Marcus kicks his shoes off and lies down on the bed. He stares up at the ceiling and tries to imagine Lucia Blix in this moment. She’s alive and Elisa got her back. As so many times before, he tries to picture himself as Elisa’s husband and father of her children, but tonight, his imagination draws a blank. Instead, he sees little Lucia. Tonight she’ll sleep, breathing in the familiar air of her old bedroom, her subconscious taking in the sounds she once knew – the crickets chirping in the fields opposite the house, the occasional rumbling jet approaching Torp Airport, her parents’ voices drifting upstairs, the muffled thuds as her brother turns in his bed next door.
His timer goes off. It’s 7.45 and he wouldn’t miss this for anything. Marcus places the newspaper on the floor next to the bed and switches on the TV, and instantly, Elisa’s close-up face fills the screen. The shout line at the bottom of the screen reads: ‘The Entire Truth – Elisa Blix in conversation with Selma Eriksen’.
I love you, is Marcus’s first, overwhelming thought as he takes her in, transfixed by Elisa’s beauty. Then, listening to her speak – You fucking liar.
90
Selma
It’s the first time Selma has done a live television interview. Her mouth feels dry and strange and her palms are slick with sweat. She fights the urge to fidget, to rub her hands on her smart navy pinstripe trousers, or to clutch her necklace, its little stone smooth and soothing in the palm of her hand. It calms her to think of Olav standing in the dark wings to the side of the podium, rooting for her.
Elisa sits down across from her, nodding at her in greeting, though doesn’t meet Selma’s eye. She looks different than before – the color is back in her cheeks and there’s a sparkle in her eyes. Selma wonders where Lucia is in this moment, whether she might be somewhere in the broadcast building with Fredrik, waiting for Elisa to finish this interview. Or whether she’s at home, watching cartoons next to her brother, her family home surrounding her like a perfect cocoon.
For several long moments, Selma and Elisa sit awkwardly in silence, until the TV crew count down from five until live.
‘Thank you for watching Dagsposten Live TV this evening, and with us in the studio today we have Elisa Blix, mother of Lucia Blix. Lucia was returned to her family in Sandefjord after eighteen months, after being taken by Jacqueline Olve Thibault, who sought revenge for Elisa’s relationship with her late husband, Nicolai, in an abduction case that has shocked not only the country, but the world.’ She pauses for a moment for dramatic effect, then smiles gently at Elisa, whose face is calm and composed. ‘Elisa, thank you so much for coming here today.’
‘Thank you for having me, Selma.’
‘I imagine all of Norway want to know how Lucia is?’
‘She’s good. Fantastic, really. It’s been an easier transition home than I would have dared hope for.’ Elisa’s eyes shimmer with emotion.
‘Will you tell us a little bit about the last week, since you returned from France?’
‘Well, we’ve just been at home together, really. The grandparents have been with us. Lucia has spent a lot of time in her room, playing with her brother, surrounded by her toys, that kind of thing.’
‘I can’t imagine the word relief would even begin to describe what you must be feeling?’
‘No, it doesn’t.’ They smile at each other, genuinely, like friends. Selma feels a wave of nervous excitement at the thought of the direction this interview is going to take. But first, a warm-up.
‘What were the first few moments with Lucia like, Elisa?’
‘They were the best moments of my life.’ Elisa’s voice is thick, and she stops for a moment to compose herself. ‘She… she could have died in that barn. We are so lucky she was found in time. She was in a hospital bed when I first saw her. Her hair had been dyed dark brown. She’s grown so much and her milk teeth have fallen out, so she looked quite different. But at the same time, she was exactly the same. Her essence was unchanged, if that makes sense.’
‘It does. It must feel incredible, that Lucia’s ordeal has not only come to a happy end, but that she appears to not have been harmed during the time she was away from your family.’
‘Of course. But she’s still suffered. I can’t imagine what she must have felt. It’s
still too early, but with time, I hope to get a complete picture of what happened to her in France. Lucia will be given all the support and help possible to cope with the aftermath of what Jacqueline Thibault did to her.’
‘Thibault is still on the run with her daughter, Josiane. How do you feel about that?’ Selma notices Elisa tense up at the mention of Jacqueline Olve Thibault.
‘I hope she is caught and brought to justice.’
‘And yet, I suppose people aren’t always brought to justice. Some people get away with their crimes.’ Selma pauses for a long moment, her eyes on Elisa, who stares back unflinchingly. She’s good, thinks Selma. ‘A lot has been written about the turning point, when you realized that the abduction of Lucia was likely to be a revenge crime.’
‘Yes.’
‘Can you say something about that?’
‘Well, it was partly thanks to you, Selma. You asked me very directly, whether there was anyone out there who could truly hate me and have a personal motive. The only person I could think of was Thibault, but I just didn’t think it was possible. Nicolai died many years ago, and I was certain that nobody other than the two of us knew of our relationship.’
‘Do you feel able to set the record straight about this relationship?’
‘It is a very personal matter. But I will say that I was very much in love with him, and that I am truly sorry for the effect my actions have had on my family.’
‘Do you feel guilty?’
‘Of course.’ Elisa looks miserable now, and big tears roll from her perfectly made up eyes down her face, but she makes no effort to wipe them away. ‘If I hadn’t done what I did, Lucia would never have been taken.’
‘It just seems very extreme, for this woman to have taken your child as revenge for your affair with her husband.’
‘Yes. Which is also why it didn’t occur to me. It’s so extreme. Then again, I think it is beyond doubt that this poor woman is clinically insane.’
‘Do you think she could have had other reasons for taking Lucia, in addition to your affair with Nicolai?’
‘Such as what?’ Selma senses it again, a certain steeliness beneath Elisa’s surface.
‘I don’t know.’ Selma doesn’t immediately proceed with another question, merely sits across from Elisa, waiting. Elisa shows no signs of nerves or discomfort. Selma continues. ‘There was something else I wanted to ask before we round off. It’s been said that Lucia’s paternity was questioned by police during the investigation, but that a DNA test proved your husband Fredrik to be her father—’
‘Obviously.’
‘Well, I suppose due to the admission of the affair it was an avenue the police needed to explore—’
‘Look. I am not prepared to answer any more questions about Lucia’s paternity. It has been established, and is fully irrelevant to the outcome of the case.’
‘What about Lyder, though?’
‘Excuse me?’
‘Has Lyder’s paternity been formally established?’ A thick vein pulsates at Elisa’s temple and a sarcastic little smile plays on her lips.
‘Are we done here?’ asks Elisa and stands up. ‘My child has been found. I’ve told the truth. Now, let’s wrap this up.’
‘Not the whole truth, though.’ The cameras are still rolling. Elisa is still standing, staring at Selma, who remains calmly seated. ‘Lyder is Marcus Meling’s son, isn’t he?’
Elisa lets a little theatrical little laugh out. ‘You’ve lost me now, Selma?’
‘Marcus Meling, the man serving time for the murder of Nicolai and Rose Thibault. In fact, you never even met Nicolai, did you? But you were in the car when it crashed into them. And then you ran away without even trying to help the victims, including a dying toddler. I’ve been trying to figure out your motive for lying. Like, why would you say you’d had a relationship with Nicolai, when really it was Marcus? You needed everyone to believe that Jacqueline Thibault had reason to hate you, but you didn’t want to admit what you were actually involved in. But I get it now, it’s because you had Lyder with him. You knew he’d keep quiet. Lyder is Marcus’s.’ The relief at speaking the words out loud feels so physical, Selma almost wants to giggle.
‘Like hell he is.’ Elisa is visibly trembling with fury, or shock, or grief. Is she going to bolt into the dark wings, tearing the microphone off, throwing it at the stunned producers and cameramen? She rubs at a little patch of skin on her hand, and Selma thinks it’s a strange thing to do.
She makes her voice low and soothing, as though she were speaking to a very young child
‘Sit down, Elisa. Talk to me.’ And then, to Selma’s surprise, Elisa sits back down, and begins to talk.
91
Elisa
I should walk out. I should unclip the microphone from my silk shirt and fling it to the ground. I should insist on a lawyer. I have my child, and my life back. Everything is perfect and I’m not going to let this little bitch ruin it. And yet. That life is an illusion now, an empty glasshouse. All I can see is the truth. And I realize that the only way I can be free is to tell it.
‘I met Marcus on a plane,’ I begin, my voice quivering. I take a few deep breaths, then close my eyes, and I can’t help a small smile at the thought of him, at the beginning.
‘Several planes, actually; over and over. Looking out for him whenever I stood at the plane door greeting boarding passengers became a welcome diversion from the daily slog of work after I’d had Lucia. I’d see him at least monthly, always at the front of business class in the aisle seat of row one. He’d stare at me. One evening our flight back from Munich was canceled due to a technical fault and all passengers and crew were put up at the Radisson Hotel; it felt inevitable that we met at the bar. That we ended up in bed. That we started seeing each other whenever possible. I fell so deeply in love with him that it felt like I’d been set on fire. I couldn’t think straight, or at all, even.’
‘How long did the affair go on for?’ asks Selma.
‘Just over two years.’
‘What happened on 27 January 2012?’
‘I’d gone to my parents’ house in Lillehammer. In the weeks leading up to that day, things had gotten more serious between Marcus and me. I’d started to seriously think about ending my marriage, and how to do that. What held me back was Lucia, and the thought of how my parents, especially my mother, would react. It was my marriage to Fredrik that had finally mended our relationship, so I dreaded having to tell them it was all over. At the same time, I knew, deep down, that the way I felt about Marcus was the real deal.
‘Everything was further complicated by the fact that I had just discovered I was pregnant again, and according to my calculations it was highly unlikely the baby was Fredrik’s, though not entirely impossible. That Friday, 27 January, I’d gone home to my parents to tell them I would be leaving Fredrik and starting a new life and family with Marcus. Fredrik and I would have to work out a custody arrangement for Lucia, and I figured that because she was so little, she’d grow up not remembering her father and me together. Besides, other people seemed to manage to create new, happy family constellations, why shouldn’t we? I wanted to live my one and only life in the kind of intense love I had with Marcus. I wanted it so much.’
I can’t stop the tears here, because in spite of everything – all the terrible, terrible things that have happened – I still want that so much, however irrationally, and I will never have it.
‘Please continue, Elisa,’ says Selma, handing me a tissue from the table between us. I snivel miserably, bringing the terrible events of that night back.
‘As it turned out, my parents had news of their own that day. My father had been diagnosed with terminal bowel cancer and wasn’t expected to survive the year. I remember his sunken, pale face. He took my hands in his own and said “As long as we stand strong together as a family, we can beat anything.” When they told me that, it wasn’t like I could respond by saying that I’d fallen pregnant by my lover and was going to leave my marri
age. It just wasn’t possible. Marcus was due to come up to Lillehammer later that evening, and the plan had been that I would tell my parents and then he would pick me up and we would spend the night at a rented cabin north of Lillehammer, like we’d done many times previously. I messaged him, telling him not to come, explaining the situation. I told him that I loved him and that everything would work out okay, I just needed to focus on my father for a while. He didn’t react rationally at all: he phoned me repeatedly and sent lots of irate texts. I couldn’t deal with it on top of the situation with my father. I remember feeling completely out of it, like I was about to black out.
‘Hours later, I was upstairs, in the bedroom I’d spent my whole childhood in, sobbing on the bed, when the doorbell rang. I heard voices from downstairs, at first courteous and subdued, then agitated, and a man’s voice broke through the commotion, screaming my name at the top of his lungs. The next few minutes are a blur. I remember my mother charging at me, clawing at my face, and Marcus holding her back. My father’s face was waxy and perplexed; he just stood there staring at us. It was the last time I ever saw him.
‘I remember regaining my composure outside on the street, standing next to Marcus on the front steps, the door slammed in our faces, the harsh cold biting at us. I had no choice but to get in the car with him, and it wasn’t until we’d driven for a few minutes that I realized he was drunk.
‘He kept misjudging the speed and clamping down suddenly on the brakes. I kept asking to be let out. He was crying and muttering to himself. I was terrified. He said if he couldn’t have me then nobody would. He said that soon this would all be over and we’d be together forever. He was driving so fast, the trees by the roadside were a black blur. I pleaded with him, begged him to stop. I tried to reason with him, saying of course we could still go to the cabin, of course I would leave Fredrik in light of what just happened at my parents’, of course the only possible way to live was together. But he just drove faster. It was icy outside, and I could smell the alcohol on his breath in the overheated car.
