by Samuel Bjork
Lukas looked across the congregation, which was still waiting silently for the pastor’s sermon to begin. He recognized every face. Most had been members of the Church for years, but none as long as Lukas. He had not returned to his foster parents that summer, and no one had seemed to mind. Twelve years later, he had risen up the ranks and, though he had yet to turn twenty-seven, he was now Pastor Simon’s right-hand man. His second-in-command. He helped Pastor Simon with all his activities, be they private or Church related. As far as Lukas was concerned, working for Pastor Simon was his mission in life. There was nothing he would not do for him. Life was nothing compared to Pastor Simon and, if it came to it one day, he would gladly die for him. Death was no longer death, not for Pastor Simon’s followers, it was just another step nearer to Heaven. Lukas suppressed a small smile as the warmth and the beautiful light filled him again.
He had not heard the voices in his head for a while now. From time to time, sure, but not loud and not often, not like when he was younger, when the voices, especially the shouters, had told him to do things he knew he should not do. Even though he tried to resist, it had been futile; deep down, he knew that the shouters would never give up. He had to obey them. Get it over with. Hope for the best. It had occurred to Lukas that the whisperers and the shouters were like God and the devil. Pastor Simon had explained to him once how one could not exist without the other. That these two poles of the universe and eternity were inseparable. That you should not be scared, because the path of light would always guide you. Succumbing to the devil’s commands from time to time was not mortal sin, it constituted proof of God’s existence, that sometimes God spoke in the devil’s voice to test you, it was a trial. Even so, Lukas was pleased that the voices, especially the shouters, did not visit him so often now.
Deo sic per diabolum.
The path to God is through the devil.
Lukas was well aware that this was not the official position of their church. It would not be well received by the amateurs. You had to be one of the initiated in order to understand. But the amateurs were only there to be used, like the people now sitting in front of him in reverent silence. The initiated were the people who mattered. Those who had understood what Pastor Simon really meant about the path towards the light. And Lukas was one of them.
Tonight was amateur night. Lukas could feel how much he was looking forward to the coming weekend, when they would return to the forest and meet up with the other initiated ones. Deep down, Lukas could not understand why Pastor Simon insisted on holding meetings for the amateurs any more – after all, they had more important work to do – but he would obviously never contradict the pastor. The pastor was in contact with God and knew exactly what needing doing. Lux domus. Wait until the weekend. Lukas had to press his lips together again so as not to sigh with pleasure as the warmth and the light flowed through his body once more.
At last, Pastor Simon opened his mouth and God was in the room. The congregation sat as if glued to their seats and let themselves be filled with bliss. Lukas had heard this sermon before, it was written for the amateurs; it was fine, but simple and, besides, his mind was on the upcoming weekend. Lux domus. Another step closer to Heaven. He shut his eyes and let the pastor’s words fill him, and then, soon afterwards, it was over and the pastor was standing by the exit. Grateful hands and bowed heads proceeded past him on their way out of the hall, and they were alone again, just the two of them, in the large, white space.
Lukas followed the pastor into his office and helped him out of his cassock. He turned away so as not to see the pastor in his underwear, then helped him put on the suit he normally wore. Poured him a cup of freshly brewed coffee. He said nothing until the pastor had sat down in his chair behind the huge desk and indicated that God had left the room and that they were permitted to speak again.
‘Another name has come forward.’ Lukas cleared his throat and produced the envelope he had kept in his inside jacket pocket during the whole service.
‘Aha?’
The pastor looked up at him and took the envelope. It contained a single white sheet of paper. Lukas did not know what it said, only that it was a name. He did not know what name it was; that was for the pastor’s eyes only. His task was to collect the envelope and give it to the pastor. Not to open it; he was merely to be a messenger, like an angel.
As usual, the pastor said nothing. He read the name, folded the sheet and locked the envelope in the safe under the small table by the window.
‘Thank you, Lukas. Was there anything else?’ The pastor looked up at him. Lukas smiled back at the kind, luminous gaze.
‘No, nothing. Oh, yes, your brother is here.’
‘Nils? He’s here now?’
Lukas nodded.
‘He came right before the service. I asked him to wait in the back garden.’
‘Good, Lukas, good. You can tell him to come in now.’
Lukas bowed and went to fetch the visitor.
‘Why did you keep me waiting so long? I told you it was important.’
Simon’s brother, Nils, was also a high-ranking member of the Church. Lukas had met him for the first time in the tent on Sørlandet but, even though he had been with them just as long, Nils was not quite up there by the pastor’s side. He knew there had been some arguing and dissenting voices when Lukas was given the role of second-in-command; many people felt that place belonged to Nils but, as always, no one challenged the pastor. After all, he was the one who had been entrusted with the key to Heaven.
‘You know it’s important for the pastor to help the amateurs. He’s ready for you now.’
‘Lux domus,’ the brother with the short hair muttered.
‘Lux domus.’ Lukas smiled and showed him the way.
The pastor rose when they entered. His guest bowed and went up to his older brother. Kissed his hand and both cheeks.
‘Sit, sit, my brother,’ the pastor said, and resumed his seat behind the desk.
Nils glanced briefly at Lukas.
‘Would you like me to leave?’ Lukas offered immediately.
‘No, no, stay.’
The pastor gestured casually to indicate that Lukas should sit down; he was one of the initiated, there was no reason for him to leave the room.
Lukas thought he detected a certain amount of irritation from Nils at the decision, but he said nothing.
‘How are you all up there?’ the pastor asked when all three of them had sat down.
‘All is well.’ His brother nodded.
‘And the fence?
‘More than half finished.’
‘Will it be as high as we discussed?’
‘Yes.’ His brother nodded again.
‘So what’s the reason you’re no longer up there?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Why are you here when you have work to do there?’
Nils glanced at Lukas again. It looked as if he had something on his mind but didn’t dare say it while Lukas was in the room.
‘The flock nearly lost a member,’ he muttered at length, with his head bowed; he looked ashamed.
‘What do you mean, “lost a member”?’
‘We had an accident with one of the younger members.’
‘What do you mean by “accident”?’
‘Just an accident. A mistake. It has been taken care of.’
‘Who was it?’
‘Rakel.’
‘Rakel the good one? My Rakel?’
The brother nodded, his neck bowed even lower.
‘She disappeared from us one night. But she’s back now.’
‘So everything is all right?’
‘Yes, everything is all right.’
‘So I ask you again, my brother: why are you down here when you have work to do up there?’
Nils looked up at the pastor, his big brother. Even though Nils was a man well past fifty, he seemed almost like a little boy who had just been told off by his father.
‘You asked me to keep yo
u updated.’
‘As long as everything is all right, then everything is all right, is it not?’
Nils nodded obediently.
‘It might have been easier if we had a telephone,’ he said tentatively after a small pause.
The pastor leaned back in his chair and pressed his fingertips together.
‘Do you have any other suggestions? Any other opinions? Are you dissatisfied with what God has given you?’
‘No, no … That’s not what I … I just wanted …’
Nils struggled to find the words, and his face grew red. The pastor shook his head briefly, and a strange silence spread across the room. It was not awkward for Lukas – he was always on the pastor’s side – but it was uncomfortable for the brother, and he deserved it. How dare he question the pastor’s orders? The brother got up, still keeping his eyes on the floor.
‘You’ll be coming up on Saturday?’
‘We’ll be there on Saturday.’
‘Good. See you then.’ His brother nodded and left the room.
‘Lux domus,’ Lukas said, when only he and the pastor were left. That was how he liked it best: just the two of them.
The pastor smiled and looked at him.
‘Do you think we have done the right thing?’
‘Absolutely.’ Lukas nodded.
‘Sometimes, I’m not so sure,’ the pastor said, and pressed his fingertips together again.
‘There is something I have to tell you,’ Lukas said.
‘Yes?’
‘You know that it’s my job to take care of you.’
‘Is it, Lukas? Is it?’ The pastor smiled.
Lukas blushed faintly. He knew the pastor so well. He knew his voice. He knew when he was being praised.
‘I don’t know if you’re aware, but we might have a problem with the congregation.’
‘You mean, this one?’
‘Yes, the amateurs.’
‘And what is the problem?’
‘Well, that’s up to you to decide, I’m only here to tell you what I see and to take care of you.’
‘Yes, so you say, Lukas, and I appreciate that.’
Lukas coughed slightly before he continued.
‘One of our regular supporters has somewhat unfortunate connections.’
The pastor shook his head.
‘You’re speaking in tongues now, Lukas. Spit it out. Out with it.’
‘An elderly lady in a wheelchair, glasses … she usually sits at the back.’
‘Hildur?’
Lukas nodded.
‘What about her?’
‘She’s the mother of Holger Munch.’
‘Who?’
‘Holger Munch. He’s a police officer.’
‘Oh, is he? I didn’t know that.’
Lukas was somewhat taken aback, because he knew that the pastor had heard of Holger Munch, but he said nothing.
‘Hildur is his mother,’ he said again.
‘And why would that present a problem for us?’
‘I just wanted you to be aware.’
‘Are you thinking about the contents of the envelope now?’
Lukas nodded cautiously.
‘Thank you very much, Lukas, but I don’t think that we need to worry about Holger Munch. We have more important things to think about right now, don’t we?’
‘Yes, we have.’ Lukas nodded, and got up.
‘Lux domus, my friend.’ The pastor smiled amicably.
‘Lux domus,’ Lukas said, smiling back at him.
He bowed deeply and left the pastor’s office without saying anything else.
Chapter 21
Mia Krüger was sitting in her office, fidgeting with the tablets she kept in her trouser pocket. She had promised herself not to take any with her, leave them all behind in her house on the island until she had finished this case, until she needed them again, but she had not quite succeeded. She had stuffed a few pills in her pocket, just in case. She was longing to take one now. She was itching all over. She had forgotten what it was like to be exposed to the real world. She had pushed it so far away. After all, she had not expected to have to deal with it for much longer, but then Munch had turned up and ruined her plans.
Mia Krüger had not had a drink for four days either, not since she had returned to Oslo. Several times, she had been tempted to attack the minibar in her hotel room, but she had managed to restrain herself. Holger had offered her a government flat, but she had insisted on a hotel room and was happy to pay for it out of her own pocket. She did not want to come back. She was not coming back. An impersonal hotel room was all she needed. A transitional room. A waiting room. She did not want to get too close to everyday life. Just to solve this case. Then she would go back again. To Hitra. To Sigrid. She had been searching for a new, symbolic date. The eighteenth of April, the tenth anniversary, had passed. The next one was their birthday: 11 November. When they would both turn thirty-three. Would have turned thirty-three. November seemed incredibly far away. Much too far. She had to find a nearer date. Or maybe she didn’t need one. It could be any time. The most important thing was that it happened. That she was spared this. These people. She stuck her hand in her pocket and placed a pill on her tongue. Changed her mind. Spat it out and put it back in her pocket.
‘Someone has called about the clothes.’
Anette had appeared in her office.
‘What?’
‘We have a hit on the doll’s dresses.’
‘So soon?’
‘Yep.’ The blonde woman smiled, waving a piece of paper in her hand. ‘Jenny, from Jenny’s Sewing Room in Sandvika, called. She apologized for not calling sooner, but she had not got round to reading the papers until now. Do you want to come with me?’
‘Yes, please. Where’s Munch?’
‘He had to pick up his granddaughter from nursery.
‘Do you want to drive, or shall I?’ Anette said, dangling a set of car keys in front of her.
‘You had better.’ Mia smiled and followed her colleague down to the underground car park.
‘So what did she say?’ she asked, when they had left the city centre and were heading down Drammensveien.
She had worked with Anette on several cases in the past, but it had not resulted in a close relationship. Mia did not quite know why: there was nothing wrong with Anette. She was quick thinking and always friendly. She had trained as a lawyer, she was incredibly clever and perfectly suited to the special unit. It was probably because Mia wasn’t close to any of her colleagues. Except Holger Munch, of course, but that was different. Was she close to anyone these days? She had not spoken to her friends from Åsgårdstrand for years. After Sigrid left, she had isolated herself more and more. Perhaps that had not been such a smart move? Perhaps it would have done her good to have a life outside work? It made no difference now. Solve this case, then go back to Hitra. Back to Sigrid. She caressed the S dangling from the charm bracelet. It made her feel safe.
‘I didn’t speak to her myself – a colleague down at Police Headquarters reported it to me. But I think we have the right one.’
‘She knew about the writing on the collar?’
Anette nodded and changed lanes.
‘Mark 10:14. ìSuffer the little children to come unto me.î Do you think we’re dealing with a religious maniac?’
‘It’s too early to say,’ Mia said, putting on her sunglasses.
The light outside was bright; other people might regard it as pale spring sunshine, but not her. Her body felt as if it could not handle any kind of sensory impression. She had tried to watch television last night, but it had given her a headache. She had even had to ask Holger to turn off the radio in his office. They drove down Drammensveien in silence. Mia was aware that Anette wanted to ask questions, but ignored it. The others had been just the same. Polite smiles behind curious eyes. Except for the people who knew her best – Curry, Kim, Ludvig – or maybe them as well. How are you? How have you been? Are you feeling better, Mia?
We heard that you had had a breakdown? Shaved your head? Tried to kill yourself on an island in the middle of the sea? Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Anette glancing at her. The car was full of unanswered questions, just like the offices in Mariboesgate, but Mia did not have the energy for them right now. She decided she would put it right later. She really liked Anette. Perhaps they could go out one evening and have a beer together? Or maybe not. Why this, and why that?
Come to me, Mia, come.
Why are you out there alone?
The rain set in just as they turned off towards Sandvika. It drummed on the windscreen, but Mia kept her sunglasses on. She closed her eyes behind the lenses and listened to the sounds. The raindrops hitting the windscreen. The droning of the engine. For a brief moment she was eleven years old again, sitting in the back of her father’s car one Saturday, going home from Horten after being with him at work in his paint shop. She could recall his smell, his voice as he hummed to himself, the leather gloves gripping the steering wheel with only one hand, free and relaxed now that her mother was not in the car.
Do you want to sing our song, Mia?
Yes, sing it, please!
And he would sing Einar Rose’s old revue song.
Again, again!
Again, again?
Yes!
Mia smiled to herself behind the sunglasses, feeling like a little girl, that tingling feeling in her stomach which had always given her goosebumps and made her cheeks go red. Back then, life had been simple. Now, everyone had gone. She was the only one left.
