by Sara Blaedel
Eik’s father was tall and narrow-shouldered, with very dark hair. He had the same high cheekbones as his son, and his hair was combed back flat like Eik’s, though there wasn’t much left of it. The resemblance made Louise smile wider when she shook his hand and thanked him for allowing her to come.
“Please, come in, come in,” he said, and he gestured for her to follow him into the living room. “No need to take your shoes off. We’ve just brewed our morning coffee. Would you like a cup?”
A worried-sounding voice came from the kitchen. “Hopefully nothing has happened to him.” Eik’s mother appeared in the doorway. Her right arm was in a cast, but she stuck her left arm out and held Louise’s hand as she gazed at her.
“Aren’t you the one he’s been living with?” She let go of Louise’s hand. “We don’t hear much from him, but he did mention you the last time we saw him. He also spoke about your son.”
Louise nodded and said that Jonas and Eik got along very well.
The living room looked very different from what she’d expected, judging by the outside of the house. Asian style, lots of pillows, patterns, gold, Buddha figures, and shades of red. There was also a sofa set and coffee table, with everything shrouded in the mild, pleasing scent of incense. Louise felt ashamed of having been so quick to judge this residential area. Given that Eik’s name was inspired by the lead singer of a popular sixties Danish band, Steppeulvene, she should have known his parents would have a somewhat alternative lifestyle.
She was offered a mug of coffee and a seat in a comfortable armchair by the window. When had Eik told them he’d moved in with her? she wondered. Recently, or quite a while ago?
His father got straight to the point. “I hope he hasn’t gotten himself into any serious trouble. We are well aware of his occasional lapses, when it’s hard for him to work.”
“Oh, Bent! That was a long time ago; it was back when she disappeared.”
“We don’t know where he is,” Louise said, before they got into their son’s ex-girlfriend.
“Well, he does drop out of sight once in a while,” his father said. “And Henni is right, it’s something that started after the tragedy down there.”
A school photo of Eik stood in the windowsill. His hair was longer back then, nearly shoulder length. He wore what looked like a military shirt, and his eyes were a bit sleepy, as if he were bored and had been forced into having his picture taken.
“There are a few special circumstances about Eik’s disappearance, and we want to make sure that nothing has happened to him.” Louise chose her words carefully, to convey the seriousness of the situation without worrying them too much. “So first I’d like to know, have you spoken with him since noon yesterday?”
They both shook their heads.
“Are you aware of any plans he might have had?”
“No,” his mother said. “He usually doesn’t let us in on things like that, though.”
“But he came by not too long ago,” Bent said. “Two, three months ago, wasn’t it?” He glanced over at his wife, who was sitting cross-legged on the sofa.
“That sounds about right. It was definitely before your birthday. He brought along that bottle of port.”
Louise didn’t know he had visited his parents while they had been living together. She would have liked to come along. “So you have no idea where he might be? Is it possible his sister might know something?”
His mother explained that Eik’s sister was traveling in Sierra Leone with a female friend who had worked for Save the Children. “Mie won’t be home for another month, but, of course, it’s possible they’ve spoken.” She promised to ask. “She calls us every two or three days when she’s traveling.”
“You could also try calling her,” his father suggested.
“Her cell phone doesn’t work out there,” she told her husband.
“Don’t worry, just ask her when she calls; that’s fine,” Louise said.
“How are you two doing, by the way?” Eik’s mother asked. “You live in Frederiksberg, I believe?”
Louise nodded. She almost told them they were very welcome to stop by someday, but she stopped herself. That was Eik’s decision. She thanked them for their time, then she stood up and promised to contact them as soon as he showed up.
7
Just short of twenty-one thousand kroner was withdrawn from his account yesterday at Arbejdernes Landsbank on Vesterbrogade,” Rønholt said, when Louise showed up just past 10:30 a.m. Her boss sat behind his desk with a bank statement in front of him. “It’s one of the branches that still offers counter services.”
“That’s crazy! Why would he make such a big withdrawal?” Louise was startled. She slapped her cheeks to warm them, blew her nose, unwrapped her scarf, then threw her coat over the chair in front of his desk. Before arriving at the station, she had left her car back in Frederiksberg and rode her bicycle to work to avoid paying for a day’s parking.
“The withdrawal took place at eleven fifty-two a.m.,” Rønholt continued.
One of the things she respected about him as a leader was that he always involved himself personally in one or two ongoing cases. Naturally, he knew about all the searches his department carried out, and he kept up to date on them. But he’d decided to join Louise in the search for Eik Nordstrøm.
“So someone has stolen his debit card and is emptying out his account,” she concluded. She sat down. “Have you blocked his card?”
Rønholt shook his head. “We don’t know it’s been stolen. We don’t know he didn’t withdraw the money himself.”
“More than twenty thousand kroners? Eik was going out for cigarettes!”
“Fifteen hundred was withdrawn two weeks ago. In general he takes out large amounts. On the other hand, he doesn’t seem to use his debit card.”
Louise studied Rønholt for a moment; he was pulling out all stops at the very beginning of this search, which meant he was every bit as worried as she was. And that rattled her even more. “We’re going to the bank.” She grabbed her coat. “I want a look at their surveillance camera.”
Rønholt nodded and stood up. He stuck his head into his reception office and asked his secretary, Hanne, to call Arbejdernes Landsbank and tell their security manager to have their surveillance files ready.
“What about his cell phone? Is it being checked?” Louise asked on the way out the door.
“Yes, but there’s nothing on it yet.”
* * *
“Birgitte served Eik Nordstrøm,” the bank’s branch manager said when they arrived. “We know many of our customers, and, of course, we’re concerned when the police show up with a court order.” He led them to an office at the back of the bank.
“We’d like to talk to her and look through the surveillance files,” Rønholt said, without explaining why they were there.
The branch manager stopped at the open doorway and waved a blond, short-haired woman over.
“I was at the counter when he came in yesterday,” Birgitte said. She looked questioningly at them.
They closed the door. “He withdrew a lot of money,” Louise said.
Birgitte nodded. “But that wasn’t unusual. He always withdraws large amounts to use over a longer period of time. We have several customers who don’t like to pay with a debit card.”
Louise had never paid much attention to it, but now that the bank employee mentioned Eik’s habit, she knew the woman was right. And truthfully, it didn’t surprise her that Eik shunned debit cards, just as he hated text messages. If you wanted to get hold of him, you had to call him. When he needed money, he went to the bank.
“So you have no suspicions that his account has been misused?” Rønholt asked.
“No, I’ve printed out a statement. All the withdrawals have been made here in our branch.” She handed them the paper. The first thing that Louise noticed was his account’s balance. More than 1.3 million kroner.
Birgitte followed her eyes. “He hasn’t spent much, and ove
r the years he’s become quite well-off. Eik Nordstrøm has been a customer here since 1989. And he has never been interested in any of our investment proposals.”
Being aware of Eik’s financial affairs without his knowledge made Louise uncomfortable. They had never talked about money. They’d never had a reason to.
“Did he seem to be under pressure when he was here yesterday?” Rønholt asked. “Nervous, or in some way not his usual self?”
Birgitte thought for a moment and shook her head, as if she wasn’t sure where he was going with this question. “He did seem to be in a hurry. He usually chats a bit when there aren’t so many customers, but yesterday he was in and out.”
“Was he alone?” Louise asked. She simply couldn’t make sense of what she’d heard. She was totally baffled, and her feeling of dread blossomed up again. What the hell had happened?
She stepped aside when the branch manager came in and announced that the surveillance files had been sent to his computer. He sat down at his desk and opened the film.
“I think he was, yes,” Birgitte said.
“Was it eleven fifty?” the manager said. He made room for the others to crowd around.
“Start running the film at a quarter till,” Rønholt said, adjusting his glasses.
Louise leaned forward, convinced that she knew Eik so well that she would notice if he had been feeling pressured or threatened. True, the past twenty-four hours had given her doubts, but right now she just wanted to see him. See that he was alive, and that he had withdrawn the money himself.
The film showed the bank entrance and two cashier counters. Birgitte sat at the counter to the right. One by one, customers approached the counter and took care of their business. Farthest back on the screen, a young woman sat at a desk punching holes in documents and placing them into file folders. Work, routines, nothing unusual. Not even a few moments later when Eik stepped into sight.
A sinking feeling hit Louise when she saw him walk over and take a number. He fingered the small slip of paper as he waited. He seemed impatient, not really there, not present, she thought. But not nervous, not visibly under pressure. When his number was called, he slipped his wallet out of his back pocket and leaned slightly over the counter.
It took hardly any time at all. The teller handed him his money, and he stuck his wallet in his back pocket, ran his hand through his hair, and walked out again. There was no sign of anyone with him—though, of course, Louise couldn’t know if someone was waiting outside. All she knew was that it hurt to see him. And it confused her even more. To her it looked like a completely normal trip to the bank; nothing in his behavior indicated that he had plans to go underground.
Up to now, that was the last trace of Eik they had. He left the bank at 11:54 a.m.
Rønholt thanked the bank manager and teller for their help. He and Louise walked out; he buttoned his winter coat and pulled on his gloves. “That didn’t help much. What in the world is causing him to do all this?”
Louise didn’t answer. Suddenly she felt overwhelmed. She hated that she’d been forced to pry into Eik’s private life. First Rønholt’s basement storage room, which she hadn’t known even existed, and now this! She tried to keep her emotions at arm’s length and think rationally. He had invited her to the Nick Cave concert. Then suddenly his plans changed, and he abandoned Charlie, her, their date. Instead he went to the bank and withdrew a small fortune. It made no sense. She had to take it from the beginning. Go through everything one more time.
“You have to go out to South Harbor and talk to Ulla,” she said. “If she knows something, she’s not telling me.”
Her boss stuck his hands deep down in the pockets of his duffle coat. He stared at the ground as if he were considering various theories. Then he nodded. “I don’t know if it’ll be easier for her to talk to me, but you’re right. It’s worth a try.”
Louise assumed they both felt that nothing was making sense. Eik had behaved almost too casually in the bank. She was at the point where she was worrying about him being kidnapped. Knocked down, taken away. She had already contacted every hospital in Copenhagen to see if he had fallen or been hit by a car, but they had no unidentified traffic victims.
Just before disappearing, Eik had been set on their living together. Had she missed some signals? He’d been so affectionate, and she had felt his desire when Rønholt caught them kissing. She just couldn’t understand it. His sudden disappearance made no sense. And then, Nick Cave…
On the way back to the station, Rønholt called and informed the garage manager, Svendsen, that they would be needing a car. When they arrived, he had already signed them in and fetched the keys to one of the unmarked police cars. Svendsen led them down to the third level and handed the keys to Rønholt, but Louise grabbed them and got behind the wheel.
A beer truck was parked outside Ulla’s pub. Louise found a spot farther down the street.
En route, they had agreed that if they got nothing more out of Ulla, several other officers would be assigned to the case, and Louise would withdraw—her decision. She realized she wouldn’t be able to continue. Her emotions would take over and prevent her from maintaining a professional distance from the case. Eik had been gone now for more than twenty-four hours, which wasn’t all that long for a forty-two-year-old man. But anxiety was overwhelming her; she was struggling to keep from falling apart.
“You take the lead,” she said. She followed Rønholt to the door. A broad-shouldered man with tattoos running up his neck walked backward out the door, pulling a two-wheeled dolly stacked with empty beer cases. “Maybe I should just wait outside?”
Louise very seldom retreated from a situation, but something about Ulla’s attitude infuriated her. And it was hard enough right now to control herself.
“No, you’d better come with me,” Rønholt said. “Four ears are better than two.”
The pub owner stood in the back by the open door leading to the storeroom. It was cool and dark inside. The depressing odor of spilled beer, cigarette butts, and urinal deodorizers hung in the air. Ashtrays were stacked on the bar, waiting to be washed.
Ulla approached them and shook Rønholt’s hand. “Is this about Eik?”
They knew each other, Louise could see that. Not that it surprised her, but Rønholt hadn’t mentioned it. She walked over and stood by his side.
“We simply can’t understand where he’s gone,” Rønholt said, keeping it friendly to begin with. He turned to Louise. “He left the office around eleven yesterday, right?”
“A little after, I think.” Louise nodded. “But like I was trying to say yesterday evening, nothing points to this being one of his disappearing acts.”
She noted Ulla’s reaction. She was clearly worried, too; she had probably also tried to get hold of Eik as soon as Louise was out the door. Her body language spoke for itself, the way she crossed her arms and rubbed her elbows distractedly.
“I never said it was one of his disappearing acts,” Ulla said defensively. She jerked her head, her coal-black hair flying back. She was pretty enough, Louise noted. A little rough around the edges, stocky, but not fat. She also looked younger today, now that she was wearing a pair of loose-fitting army pants and a white blouse instead of her midnight-blue bar outfit. The lack of heavy makeup also helped. “I just said he’s a man who doesn’t like to be controlled.”
“This isn’t an inspection, not at all,” Louise said, trying to stay composed. “There’s a search out for Eik, and shortly after he disappeared he withdrew a large amount of money from the bank. Your cooperation would help.”
Rønholt broke in. “Seriously, we’re worried about him.” He told her they were looking for anything at all that could help explain his behavior. “We’re guessing he’s alone, but we don’t know that. We checked everywhere we thought he might be. Do you have any ideas?”
Ulla’s hands slipped through her thick hair as she leaned back, supporting her ample rear end against the table. It seemed as though the seri
ousness of the situation had finally sunk in. “Usually he does his disappearing act out here.” She nodded toward the back of the room. “At least when he doesn’t bury himself in that secret place you two have.”
Louise tried to hide her reaction to hearing that Ulla knew about the basement room.
“I don’t know where the hell else he could be,” the pub owner said. She put her hands on her hips. “I haven’t heard so much from him since he moved into town. He used to come by and eat a few times a week.”
Into town! Louise almost smiled. Was it really so hard for Ulla to accept that she and Eik were living together?
Rønholt excused himself when his phone rang, leaving the two women alone together. Louise stuck her hands in her pockets and was about to move away when Ulla began talking. “He really likes you.” Her face was blank; Louise couldn’t tell whether she was happy for him or if she was simply stating a fact. “It’s good for him—”
“I beg your pardon?” Rønholt spoke loudly in English. He looked at Louise, then pulled a chair out and sat down. He was frowning again. “Damn,” he said, after putting his phone down. “He’s in England. Apparently he’s very drunk and in jail in some little town outside of Bristol!”
“Bristol!” Ulla said, before Louise broke in.
“What in hell is he doing there?”
Rønholt’s face was stiff. He spoke sternly. “That I can’t tell you, but he’s coming home. Apparently the idiot has butted into an English police investigation. He even tried telling them the Search Department sent him over. He attempted to pressure them into giving him access to the victim’s files. He claimed she’s wanted in connection with a missing persons case he’s working on.”
“Victim?” Louise said, as he led her over to the door. “What do you mean? I don’t know anything about him working on an open case in Bristol.”
