by Willow Rose
It'll take them at least twenty minutes to get here.
My heart was beating hard as I heard Morten yell something from inside the inn. I walked closer to better hear him.
"Emma. Get in here. I need your help!"
I ran inside and found Morten in the lobby of the inn. "Is it safe?" I asked.
"I think so. Come here and help me."
That was when I realized Morten was bent over something. It looked like a body. I walked closer and saw a man tied up with duct tape. I leaned over and pulled the piece from his mouth. The man screamed in pain.
"Aw!"
"Sorry."
Morten cut his hands and feet loose with his pocket knife and soon the man was sitting up.
"What happened Ole?" Morten asked.
The man wiped his mouth repeatedly with his hand. "This glue tastes disgusting," he grunted.
"You're the owner of this inn?" I asked.
Ole nodded. "Yes."
"What happened?" Morten repeated.
Ole shook his head like he was trying to remember. "I…I have no idea. I was sitting here behind the counter this afternoon, hoping that a tourist would stop by. Things have been a little slow lately for business and I haven't had a guest in…two weeks, I think. So when a car pulled up and someone entered the inn, I was certain my luck had finally turned." Ole stopped and looked pensive. "I really don't remember much after that."
"Who entered?" Morten asked. "Was it a man?"
"Yes. It was a man. He had long blond hair and was wearing a long black cotton coat. And…uh…glasses, yes that's it. Pretty thick glasses."
I looked at Morten. "Sounds like our guy from Anders Samuelsen's sketch."
"Sure does. What else do you remember? Was he alone?" Morten asked.
"Yes. I believe he was. He…he walked up to the counter and I said Welcome! Are you here to stay for the night? Then he…he pulled something out of his pocket. A spray of some sort. A small bottle. Before I could react, he sprayed something in my face. It smelled really bad. Then I became dizzy and I remember feeling really nauseated and…then…this blurry vision…well, that's all I remember."
Morten sniffed. "Smells like ether. He was probably using an ether-filled perfume bottle. Those have been known to be used in bank robberies."
"So, where is he now?" I asked.
Ole shrugged. "I have no idea. He can hardly have stolen anything from me, since I don't have much money in the cash register and nothing of real value here."
"I'll run a check," Morten said. He pulled out his gun and started walking around the inn. I stayed with Ole. He looked pale.
"Can I get you anything? A glass of water?" I asked.
"Yes. Please. That would be very nice. I still feel really nauseated. There's a water cooler in the office behind the counter."
I walked into the office and found the water cooler and poured some in a plastic cup, while casting a glance around the room. My eyes fell on a picture of a building he had put up on the wall. I grabbed the plastic cup and walked back to Ole, who was still sitting on the floor. I kneeled next to him and handed it to him. He drank greedily.
"So, what's your relationship to Hummelgaarden?" I asked, while he drank.
He finished the cup. "That really hit the spot, thank you so much. Hummelgaarden you say?"
I nodded. "I saw a picture of it in your office."
"Well, it's a long story, but it has a special place in my heart. I used to work there."
39
June 2007
ALEXANDRA HAD HER BABY three weeks early and had to stay in the hospital for a week after the birth in order to make sure the baby was strong enough to be brought home. It was a hard time on all of them, but it especially took its toll on Poul who had to stay alone in the house with Samuel.
Alexandra was worried and found it hard to sleep at the hospital at night.
"The baby will be fine," the doctors and nurses kept telling her. "You need your sleep. You have to relax or you'll only get sick. You won't be able to produce enough milk for your baby if you don't get your rest. She is small and weak and only your milk can give her strength and make her grow. Rest is vital for both of you. Right now, your daughter needs you more than she ever will. She needs you to be well and rested."
But Alexandra wasn't worried about little Olivia. That wasn't why she stayed awake all night and wandered in circles in her room, not being able to lay still. No, she was concerned about Poul and Samuel being all alone in the house.
I just hope they don't kill each other.
Things had been turning from bad to worse to terrifying ever since she had brought Samuel home from the hospital. Poul had been so angry with her because she made the decision at the hospital without even consulting him first. It had started already on the evening when they brought him home.
"I don't want the boy living in my house again. I don't trust him, Alexandra. He tried to kill you, remember?"
"No, he didn't. It was an accident."
"It wasn't an accident, Alexandra. Don't make excuses for the boy. He stabbed you on purpose."
"I don't think he meant to harm me, Poul. I really don't. He just couldn't control himself. Besides, it won't happen again. He’s changed. He regrets it so much. Didn't you see it in his eyes at the hospital? He's back. He's our sweet little Samuel again. Didn't you hear him? I mean, he is our son, for crying out loud. We have to love him. We have to care for him. We have to forgive him."
"Well, I certainly don't. I think he only said all those things because he wanted you to take him home. I'm certain he only tried to kill himself because he wanted to come home. He didn’t even take enough pills to kill himself…the doctor told us so. He's just acting, Alexandra, and you're falling for it. It's all just a clever act. Can't you see that?"
"No!" Alexandra said, crying heavily and worrying that Samuel would hear every word his dad was saying from his room next door where he was supposed to be sleeping. "He's a good boy. I know he is. He's just not well. Somewhere in there is my boy and I am determined to find him. I saw him today at the hospital. The way he looked at me. There was true deep love in those eyes. He can change. He told me he would. I know he can. We'll get him the help he needs. We have to try, Poul. We have to give him a second chance."
That was when she had seen it in Poul's eyes. Pure hatred for the boy. That was when she realized that Poul blamed everything on Samuel. He thought the boy had ruined everything for them and now that he was in their lives again, he was going to destroy it all. Poul shook his head and lifted his hands. "I'm not. I won't forgive him and I refuse to let him manipulate me. I see right through that act of his. He is dangerous, Alex."
"Don't say that. It's an awful thing to say. He's your son,” Alexandra hissed in anger and frustration. She couldn't believe that Poul would abandon her on this matter. They were supposed to stick together, to back each other up. Why did he refuse to see what she had seen in the boy? He was there with them in the hospital room. Didn't he see the boy crying his heart out?"
Now, while lying in the hospital bed, Alexandra was scared of what the two of them might end up doing to one another. She was terrified of the future and what they should do with the boy. Where would he go to school?
She worried about those things constantly in the hospital until one morning when they rolled in a new roommate for her. It was a woman who told her that she had a nephew who struggled with mental issues as well. Alexandra found much comfort talking to this woman during the daytime and told her about her worries and troubles at home.
"Well, my sister felt just as frustrated as you until Tommy's social worker sent him to this new place outside of town that just opened a few months ago…it's an institution of some sort, I think. Anyway, it completely changed things for him and for my sister."
"That sounds really good. Maybe I should try and get Samuel in there as well," Alexandra said, suddenly sparked with newfound hope.
"You should. Talk to a social worker at City Hall.
The place is called Hummelgaarden."
40
February 2014
"THE PLACE IS SECURE."
Morten came back just as I was about to ask Ole more about Hummelgaarden. Morten looked at me, concerned. "Unfortunately, no signs of Dagmar either."
I rose to my feet with a frustrated sigh. "But there has to be. I mean, the killer led us here."
Morten shook his head. "I'm sorry. You're welcome to check for yourself. I've been in all the rooms upstairs. It's not that big of an inn." Morten looked at Ole. "Is there anywhere else he could have hidden her?" he asked.
"There is the wine cellar," Ole said.
"I'll go check," Morten said, and disappeared.
I looked at Ole. Some of the color had returned to his cheeks. "Feeling better?" I asked.
He nodded. "I think so."
I helped him get on his feet again. "So you used to work at Hummelgaarden, huh?"
"Yes, well it's a long time ago. Now I have this place. It was always my dream to start something of my own, you know?"
I nodded, wondering if it could be a coincidence that Ole used to work there.
Morten came back upstairs and brought me out of my thought pattern. "Nope. Nothing there either," he said.
"That's strange," I said. "Why would the killer bring us here if he hasn't hidden Dagmar here?"
Morten shrugged. "I don't know. I'm getting a little tired of his games. I've called for the forensics team to come out here once they're done with Dagmar's apartment and secure any trace of the killer. Did he touch anything while he was here?"
Ole shrugged. "I…I don't know. Maybe the door handle."
I looked at Ole. "What's that?" I asked, pointing at the pocket on the chest of his shirt. It was bulging like there was something in it.
Ole felt it. "I don't know." He put his fingers inside it and pulled something out.
"What is it?" Asked Morten.
"I…I don't know," Ole said. "I don't remember ever seeing this before. It looks like a…like one of those key chains the tourists buy."
"And you say you didn't put it in your pocket?" I asked.
"I never put anything in that pocket," Ole answered.
"It's a clue," I said, looking at Morten.
He exhaled. "This guy is unbelievable!" He looked at me. "So where are supposed to go now?"
I shrugged. "There is a key on it."
"Yeah but where does it fit?"
"Maybe we can find out if we go down to one of the shops at the harbor where they sell these things?" I asked.
Ole and Morten looked at one another. "Actually, that’s not a bad idea," Morten said.
"Then let's go," I said. I looked at Ole. "Will you be alright? The place will be swamped with police in a few minutes. Should we call for an ambulance as well? Do you want the paramedics to take a look at you?"
Ole shook his head. "I'm fine, but thanks."
I smiled and nodded. "Well, thanks for your help."
"Call us if you remember anything else," Morten said. "Any little detail might help us."
"Sure."
Morten and I drove through the countryside and passed the Copenhagen forensic team in their blue vans going the other direction on our way back to town. My heart was still pumping hard in my chest. I was worried about Dagmar. This little trip to the inn had taken a long time. My hopes that she would survive were decreasing by the second.
Morten parked the car in the middle of the street downtown and we jumped out.
Morten stopped. He looked at me.
"There are three souvenir shops on this street. Which one do we pick?"
I scanned the many small souvenir shops. They all looked alike. Except for one. I pointed at it.
"We pick the one where the light is turned on inside. Come on."
41
February 2014
ANDERS SAMUELSEN WAS GETTING ready. He looked at himself in the mirror and lifted his head in pride. It was the first time he was wearing the Shinobi Shozoko, the traditional ninja uniform, since he bought it online five years ago. Until now, it had been hanging on the wall in his bedroom next to the Katana, the Japanese sword that he was now taking down for the first time in years as well. He pulled it carefully out of its scabbard and looked at it. It was long and slim, but very, very sharp. He touched it gently with his finger and cut a little skin off.
"Perfect," he said from underneath the black uniform that was covering his mouth. Actually, it was covering all of his body except for a small slit around his eyes and hands.
Anders looked down at his Tabi boots with the slit between the big toe and the second toe.
"Made to make it easier to climb ropes and scale walls," he said satisfied, while studying them. It was truly a remarkable outfit. Perfect for his purpose.
Anders had studied ninjas for years and years from his computer while being imprisoned by his fears, dreaming about one day becoming as forceful and ferocious as them. For years he had admired these soldiers, but never dared to become one himself. Now the time had come for him to get out of his shell. For years, he had been hiding like a coward in this house, hiding from his true purpose and destiny.
Anders stood in front of the mirror in the hallway holding his sword up in front of him, then he pretended to be using it in a fight. He killed the imaginary enemy, then smiled at his own reflection.
"Brilliant," he said. "Simply brilliant."
For years, the fear and medicine had held Anders back. Now it was time for him to shine. He was no longer afraid of anything. He had faced his worst fears and so should the rest of the world. No one in this world should ever have to be afraid again.
Anders was going to make sure of that.
He opened the front door and walked out into the snow, not letting the cold get to him, even if it was biting at his fingers.
Silent and secretively, he rushed into the black night, disappearing like the wind. He ran across the street, found a sidewalk, ran up the hill and down towards town.
He was panting heavily and his knees were freezing when he reached center of town. He wasn't in as good of shape as he would like to be. He passed several small houses and looked in the windows, where people were sitting in their cozy living rooms, watching TV or sitting around the dinning table and chatting. Anders stared at them, then moved on. He was looking for the right person. He ran towards another house and looked inside. He spotted a woman sitting in a chair in front of the TV. She seemed to be alone.
"Perfect," Anders mumbled, staying in position for ten minutes more to make sure she really was alone. When no other person showed up in the room, Anders assumed she was, in fact, all alone, and got himself ready to make his move. He took in a deep breath and closed his eyes to reach a state of complete calmness. Then he pulled out the sword from the scabbard attached to his back, ran towards the front door and gave it a kick to make it jump open. With a high-pitched scream he sprang inside the house and ran to the living room, making all the sounds he had heard ninjas make in the many movies he had watched.
The woman in the chair screamed with fear. Anders swung the sword in the air, then yelled:
"Fear not, lady. Never fear again. I'm here to free you from your fears and anxiety. They're holding you back! They're the ones keeping you from living your life. I will make you free. I am the Deliverer!"
The woman didn't seem to listen much to his words. She still stared at him with deep anxiety in her eyes and screamed at the top of her lungs. Anders knew exactly how she felt at that moment. He himself had felt it down in that coffin buried underground. It was the certainty that this was her last moment alive; it was knowing that this was it.
She was exactly in the place Anders wanted her to be in. It was perfect. Now, all he had to do was to show her that there was absolutely no reason to fear death. It was nothing to be afraid of. But the only way she could really fully understand that, was if she actually died and came back. Just like he had.
He wanted her to experience th
e peace he had felt and he wanted her to come back and look at the world with the same newfound courage and wonder that he had.
"Please don't hurt me," she pleaded. "Please don't."
Anders tilted his head and looked at her. Then he swung the sword towards her with the words:
"I'm sorry. But this is a necessary part of the process. You will thank me later."
Anders pierced sword into the woman's stomach and blood started gushing out. Then he pulled the sword back out again. She stared at him with wide open eyes. With her hand, she felt the blood.
Anders saw how life slowly oozed out of her eyes, as they rolled back in her head and she fell out of the chair and onto the ground. Then he smiled, picked up her phone holding it with a small handkerchief he had brought with him.
"I need an ambulance to Valdemarsvej. Yes its number 43. It's serious, yes, very. A woman has been stabbed. You need to hurry."
Then he hung up, turned on his heel and looked at the woman whose lifeless body was crumbling on the floor. He couldn't stop smiling. He walked closer, then bowed elegantly.
"You're very welcome."
42
February 2014
MORTEN WALKED IN FRONT of me with his gun held up. We reached the front door of the shop and he pulled the handle.
"It's open," he whispered. "You better stand back. If the killer is in there, he might be armed."
"Sure," I said, stopping while Morten continued inside. I heard him gasp.
"Morten?"
"I'm alright."
"Can I come in?"
"I don't know if it’s such a good idea," Morten said. "It's pretty bad in here. Call for an ambulance will you?"
I fumbled to find my phone then called the alarm central. "They say the island's only ambulance is already on its way to another incident in town. Is it a life-threatening situation?"
