by Rose, Willow
”Don’t you get it?” he said with a quieter voice.
“No. I really don’t think I do.”
He sighed again. “Don’t you get that I don’t know what else to do? What to say to make you come back. You and Julie. I miss you. I can’t stand being all alone in the house.”
He came toward me with a sudden move and it made me jump back. Then he grabbed me and tried to kiss me. I pushed him away.
“Peter, for crying out loud.”
He grabbed my hand and kissed it.
“Don’t you know how much I love you? I have even been seeing a counselor who has been helping me. That is how much I love you. I have done it for you, Rebekka.”
“Stop it!” I said and took back my hand. “You sent two of your hired soldiers to scare me and you trashed this house. Look at this place! Look at what you’ve done.”
“I sent Johnny and Simon to try to get you to come back. I regret and am very sorry for that. But this mess? I didn’t do that,” he said much to my surprise. ”It was like this when I got here. The front door was wide open.”
“But you … you said …?”
I didn’t get any further before we were interrupted.
“Oh my God. What happened here?” Dad asked. He was confused and I could tell he was upset. I turned a chair back upright and he sat in it, shaking his head at the mess.
“I don’t understand. Who would do such a thing?”
I grabbed his hand. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Dad??” Julie’s happy scream filled the room.
Peter turned and looked at her. “Sweetie pie!”
She ran toward him and grabbed his right leg.
“I’ve missed you so much,” she said. “Did you come to scare away the bad guys who did this to Grandpa’s house?”
Peter took her in his strong arms and lifted her up. Then he kissed her belly and she laughed.
“I sure did,” he said. “I sure did.”
Julie looked at me with big puppy eyes.
“Mommy, can Daddy stay? Please?”
I looked at him and sighed. I was still afraid of what he might be up to. He wasn’t well and I couldn’t trust him. But it was good for Julie to be with her dad again. That was important and I had to think of that as well.
“Please?” he said with the same voice as Julie.
I wasn’t sure of my decision but I took the chance. “Okay, then.”
They both started cheering.
“But he’s sleeping on the couch.”
I didn’t get much sleep that night. First, I had to clean up the mess and that took several hours. Peter was nice to help me while Dad took the kids upstairs and put them to bed. When we were done cleaning and the house almost looked like itself again, I told Peter I wanted to go to bed, but he took out a bottle of my dad’s wine and opened it.
“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea,” I said knowing what normally happened to Peter when he got too much to drink.
“Just one glass?” he begged.
“Okay, just the one,” I said.
We sat down in the kitchen and he poured two glasses.
“Cheers,” he said.
“Cheers.”
We drank and were quiet for a few seconds. I looked at him. He looked nice but like he had gotten five years older in a short time. Maybe this had been harder on him than I thought. I was so mad about what he did to us that I never thought about his feelings. But how was I ever to trust him again?
“So how have you been?” I asked.
“Horrible.”
“It hasn’t been easy on us either.”
He took my hand. “Listen. I know I have been an idiot. I know I need help. But I can’t make it without you and Julie. You are my life. Without you two there is nothing left to live for.”
“You locked us in the basement, Peter. It is not very easy to trust you again.”
He sighed and let go of my hand.
“I know. I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened to me. Why I reacted that way. But I’m working on it, okay?”
“Okay.”
We chatted and talked for hours and for a while it felt just like old times. Almost that is. I remembered what I used to love about him and I saw glimpses of that old Peter during the night. I told him all about Julie, her new school and new friends, and I could feel how much he had missed her. I started to feel badly for him. It wasn’t fair to Julie either that I had robbed her of her own dad.
After three glasses of wine I finally called it a night.
“Goodnight,” he said and walked to the kitchen sink where he started washing up our wineglasses.
“It was really nice talking to you again,” I said on my way out.
He looked at me from the sink. “I thought so too.”
“Goodnight.”
All night I tossed and turned and thought. What if he really had changed? What if that counseling actually had helped him? I used to love the man more than life. Could he get back to being the same again? Could we have it all back? Our family? Our great life? I didn’t know. I wasn’t sure I wanted to take the chance in case it failed again. It would be too hard on Julie. But he was still her father and she loved him.
As did I.
31
When I got downstairs the next morning my dad and Peter were sitting alone in the kitchen. Their conversation stopped when I walked in. They both looked at me and smiled.
“Don’t stop on account of me,” I said.
“It’s okay,” Peter said and got up. “I was just telling your dad I really appreciate his hospitality, and that I will no longer be a burden for you. I will be going back to Aarhus later today.”
I was surprised. “Oh, okay,” I said and poured myself a cup of freshly made coffee and put a piece of toast on my plate.
He grabbed my shoulder. “I have some business to attend to, but if it is okay with you I would like to come and visit again on the weekend. I will get a room at the hotel this time.” He let go of me. Then he stretched his back as if it was sore. “I’m too old for a couch anyway.”
I smiled. It was strange but I was happy that he was coming back. I hated to admit it, but I had missed him.
At the office I got some very happy news. Sune had been released and was on his way back to the office. Just as I walked through the door Sara told me with great excitement his new lawyer had gotten him out. The lawyer apparently had heard that the National Police had taken over the case and they thought the four killings were related. Then she had argued that Sune was in jail when the last man was killed and therefore couldn’t be the murderer. The police had bought the argument and said he was still under suspicion but a free man for now as long as he didn’t leave the country.
Sara had bought a big cinnamon cake at the nearby bakery and put a flag on Sune’s desk and computer. She gave me a flag to hold in my hand and started waving hers as Sune entered the room.
“Surprise! Welcome out of jail,” Sara yelled while waving the flag. Then she hugged him.
He looked quite surprised but also glad.
“Thank you, Sara. For everything,” he said and then he looked at me and gave me a hug. “And thank you too.”
“You are very welcome,” I said as we sat down and Sara cut the cake.
“So how are you?”
“I can’t wait to see Tobias when he is done with school today. Has he been behaving well?”
“He is the best. Julie is going to cry her heart out when she learns that he is not going to sleep in her room any longer. So is my dad, I think.”
Sune laughed.
“He’ll be back another time.”
“I know he will.”
“So how did they treat you in the slammer?” Sara asked.
I ate my piece of the cake. A little to heavy on the cinnamon if you ask me, but otherwise it was okay.
Sune laughed. “They treated me all right, I guess.”
“Did they beat you?”
He laughed again.
”No, they did not. It’s not like the movies. They were strict and questioned me a lot, which was unpleasant. I answered them I realized I sounded more and more like I could actually have done it. I have wanted to kill him for years. I wanted to do exactly what was done to him.”
“Did you tell them that?” Sara asked with her mouth full.
“I did. I was honest and that almost got me into a lot of trouble. But luckily I had a good lawyer who kept her ears and eyes open.”
“That was great,” I said. ”So you are all right now?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
”I’m glad to hear that, because I have a lot to tell you. We have a killer to catch so we can prove your innocence.”
I told Sune everything that happened since he was gone—the dead body I walked in on in Elsinore, the man I tried to follow down the stairs, and the attack from behind that left me unconscious.
“You shouldn’t have gone there alone,” Sune said.
“No, so I have heard.” I got up and got my purse. I found the photo of the boarding school boys. I showed it to Sune.
“Only one is left now,” I said.
He nodded. “I know. Do you think he is the killer?”
“I don’t know. He didn’t strike me as the type. But then again, who does?”
“You’re right. He doesn’t fit the profile of someone who would weld his own cross of spikes. But maybe he could have had someone else do it.”
“That’s a possibility.”
“What about Irene?”
“She has a pretty good motive. But is she strong enough to carry me up the stairs? She’s not a big woman.”
“Maybe she had help.”
“Mmm … I don’t know. I didn’t get the sense there was more than one person in the apartment when I was there. But I did tell the police about my suspicion toward her and Ulrik Gyldenlove, and I just hope they will talk to them.”
“You could talk to both of them again.”
“I know. Maybe I should. But the killer knows me now and knows I am on to him. He’s probably the one who messed up my father’s house. I don’t know who else it would be. But that means I have to be careful. I have a family to think of. I think it was a warning.”
Sune nodded pensively. “It might have been. You really have to be careful now.”
I thought about the fact that if it was the killer who had messed up my dad’s house then it meant he knew where I lived. That made me scared for my daughter and father.
“So what do you suggest that we do?”
“Well, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking in prison and I didn’t come up with much. But I have one idea. It might not lead to anything, but it’s worth a try.”
I looked at him and finished my coffee. “Yes?”
“It’s a small thing and might not help us in any way. But I thought about looking into the pastor’s computer.”
I smiled. “Looking into? As in hacking yourself into?”
“You know what I mean,” he said. “Maybe we’ll find something that could give us a clue.”
“You know if the police find out they could lock you up again,” Sara said with a concerned voice.
Sune nodded. “I know that very well. But I have to do something. The police still have me on their list of suspects. They even argued that I might have had an accomplice on the outside to commit the last murder. They haven’t let me off the hook just yet, and I might be arrested again if there’s another killing now. I don’t have anything to lose anymore as far as I can see.”
I totally understood what he was saying. He’d been sitting in the jail for days without being able to do anything. Now he wanted to clear his name. He’d been wrongfully imprisoned once before and that had almost ruined his life. This time he would fight to the end.
32
What Sune found on the prison pastor’s computer wasn’t a pretty sight. It only took him two hours to hack into it. He showed me some of what he found. Most of it was short movies of real killings and torture. Sometimes it was men, sometimes women, and even sometimes small children, all taped somewhere far away by someone who was willing to kill and torture for money. They were all bad quality, like they were recorded on a cell phone or a really old camera.
“This is horrifying,” I said as Sune played me one of the videos. It showed a group of young boys beating up a homeless man until he didn’t move anymore. One of them recorded everything on a cell phone.
“I know,” he answered. “But that stuff turns some people on for some weird reason we will probably never understand. And they are willing to pay a lot of money for it.”
“This turns them on?”
”Yes. The screams of pain are arousing to them.”
“You mean they get off on someone being tortured and killed?”
“I’m afraid so.”
I leaned back in my chair with a strange feeling in my stomach. How could anyone be so sick?
“You are right. I’ll never understand that. It’s too disgusting.”
I left Sune at the computer and went to the kitchen to get some water. Then I sat at my own desk and tried to get my thoughts straight. Giovanni had tried to call me again a couple of times and Sara had left four notes telling me to call him back before she went insane. Maybe it was true what they said. The more you played hard to get, there more he wanted you.
So I decided to call him back.
“Finally,” he said with that cute accent of his. “Where have you been? I have called and called.”
“I know. I’ve been very busy.”
“I know you have a busy job, but I get so worried about you.”
I had to admit I didn’t think he would actually worry about me.
“So when can I see you?” he asked.
I looked at the picture of the welded cross Sune had printed for me. It was lying on the desk in front of me. My stomach acted up again. What if it really was Giovanni in the apartment? What if he hit me in the courtyard and carried me back to the apartment to make me look suspicious? What if he only wanted to see me now so he could finish me off?
“It’s better that we lay low for a couple of days,” I said.
“What are you saying?”
I almost felt his disappointment through the phone. ”I just mean that it might be better to take a little break from each other. My ex-husband is coming this weekend and I don’t want to confuse Julie too much.”
“Your ex-husband? What does that mean? Are you getting back together with him?”
“I don’t know right now. I just know that everything is a little complicated and I need time to think.”
“So that is it? Just like that?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“But you must have some feelings for him since you are telling me to stay away from you. Something I find impossible to do.”
I sighed and rubbed my forehead. A headache was beginning to take shape.
“Just give me a week, all right? That’s all I am asking.”
“Okay. Don’t take too long, though.”
“I won’t. I promise.”
I hung up feeling lousy. I had no idea what was going on with me and I hated that. I was used to being in control of my emotions. I didn’t like this situation.
“Everything a-okay?” Sune asked without looking up from his computer. His fingers danced on the keyboard.
“I’m fine.” I sighed.
“You don’t sound fine.”
“It’s nothing.”
“I might have something that might cheer you up.”
I looked at him with anticipation. “Really?”
“Really.”
I went to his desk. “So what is it?”
Sune clicked the mouse and a list of names showed on the screen.
“What am I looking at? I don’t get it.”
“Look at the names.”
I read them out loud.
“Zenia Damsgaard, Zenia Larsen, Zenia Emborg, Zenia Busck, Zenia Peterson.” I stoppe
d. “It just goes on like that, the same first name, different last names.”
“These are names he has been searching for on the internet. On Google and the yellow pages. So what does that tell us?”
“That he’s looking for someone named Zenia?”
“Very good. Yes, that’s exactly what he has been doing. From his internet history I can tell that he has been searching a lot for Zenia and found nine girls with that name in Denmark. I have gathered all of them.”
“So?”
“So why would he search for a girl for whom he only knows the first name?”
“Because he met her in a bar maybe and she only gave him her first name. Since it’s a relatively rare name, he thought he could find her on the internet. Maybe he was in love. Who knows?”
“That’s one theory. But what about this? Maybe it’s because he used to know her when she was younger and still in school, and now he figures she has gotten married and therefore changed her last name.”
I nodded. It sounded like a possibility. But I didn’t quite see how it helped us.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Sune said. “But I just feel like it might have something to do with our case.”
“Look,” I said and pointed at one of the names.
“Zenia Clausen,” Sune read out loud.
Our eyes met.
“Clausen?”
“Could that be …?” Sune looked back into the screen.
“Like in Bjorn Clausen?” I said.
“A sister?”
“He didn’t have a sister as far as I know,” I said. “Maybe it could have been a cousin? Can you find her on the yellow pages and maybe get a name or a number?”
Sune typed, then leaned back and touched his Mohawk with the tip of his fingers.
“Nothing.”
I thought for a second.
“Try to look her up in Folkeregistret, where the Danish government keeps everybody registered.”
“Great idea,” Sune said and leaned forward. Now he was typing again with great eagerness.
I went to have a cigarette at the window in the kitchen. I thought about my sister as I looked out at the people in the street in their long coats. If Bjorn had a sister, she probably knew her. She knew all girls her own age from this town back then. So I called my sister, but she didn’t answer the phone. I left her a message and killed my cigarette.
