Paneeraq was alone in his house with plenty of biscuits, crackers and juice, as well as comics, pencils and paper, should she want to draw. He had told her that she was free to move about his house and that she could touch anything she wanted to. There was nothing dangerous or forbidden in his home. She was even allowed to play with the fossils. She had been upset when he left, but he had promised her that he would be back and that he was going to find out where she would live from now on. She had said that she would like to live with him. He had had no answer to that.
Jakob looked about uneasily as he walked through the entrance to the police station. His recent row with Mortensen was unlikely to be a secret, and he was afraid that everyone would know that he was hiding the girl.
‘Did you return the child, Pedersen?’
He turned his head and saw Mortensen’s chin. ‘I need to speak to you about Jørgen Emil Lyberth and Kjeld Abelsen. It’s serious.’
‘Really? I’m rather busy today.’
‘But they—’
‘I hope you haven’t upset those fine gentlemen for no good reason?’
Jakob shook his head. ‘No, but they—’
‘Good, then it can wait. I have meetings with the Home Rule Committee, the Greenlandic Provincial Council and the Minister for Greenland, and I haven’t got time to listen to your conspiracy theories. You understand that, don’t you?’ Mortensen rubbed his eyes. ‘We need to put a lid on all that nonsense before the minister flies back to Denmark tomorrow—that’s the way it is. Frankly, it’s like herding cats.’
Jakob shook his head and took a very deep breath all the way down to his stomach.
‘Take Karlo with you, then go and apologise to the girl’s parents,’ Mortensen said. He went back towards his office, but turned around in the doorway to make sure that Jakob had taken his message on board. ‘I mean it.’
‘Yes, sir.’ The air seeped out of Jakob. ‘We will.’
He could smell wet clothes inside the office. His fellow officers, their snow-caked boots, trousers and jackets were thawing in the heat. The steam from the melting snow made the office smell like a damp basement.
‘I’ll keep my coat on, shall I,’ Jakob grunted when, at that very moment, he spotted Karlo, who was waiting for him, already dressed for the outdoors.
The two men went outside and let the snowstorm embrace them. Jakob patted Karlo on the back. ‘The more decorations they get on their shoulders, the less they remember what it means to be a police officer.’
‘The responsibility probably weighs heavily on them.’
‘I wish. No, I think it’s about not wanting to lose what you’ve got, so you switch your allegiance upwards rather than remember those down on the ground.’
‘I don’t think the world is as black and white as you make it out to be.’
‘You may be right, but our boss would rather be a friend to politicians than a protector of children at risk—that much I know.’ Jakob’s voice sharpened. ‘Right, we had better get a move on, although this is yet another deeply idiotic idea. Why are we having to suck up to a rapist instead of pursuing him all the way to hell?’
‘Let’s wait and see how the case pans out,’ Karlo said, looking straight into the hissing polar wind. ‘We still have to solve the murders.’
Jakob leaned towards Karlo. ‘Jørgen Emil Lyberth and Kjeld Abelsen paid me a visit last night. They want us to arrest Thomas Olesen from Block 16 for the murders and close the case.’
‘Thomas Olesen? But surely he has nothing to do with this.’
‘And they know it, but they want the case closed now. They brought with them some thug from the Faroe Islands and they threatened me.’
‘Are you serious? Please tell me you’re not.’
‘I am—although no one will ever believe me. But I’m telling you, they were there, I swear.’
‘Yes, of course. I believe you. So what happens now?’
‘We apologise to that bastard in Block P, and when we get back to the station, Mortensen will tell us to arrest Olesen for the murders.’
‘Mortensen? Do you think that—’
‘It’s entirely political,’ Jakob interrupted. ‘The last thing anyone up here wants is an investigative commission from Denmark turning up while the hullabaloo about the EEC is still a gaping wound and the newly minted Home Rule Committee is trying to find its political feet and its identity.’ He heaved a deep sigh and watched it linger in the cold air as tiny frozen particles. ‘I’m thinking in particular of all the Danish civil servants who have been up here for years, acting like petty monarchs. They don’t want to hand over their power to Denmark, or to a new, independent Greenland.’
‘And Mortensen and Abelsen are two such monarchs?’ Karlo said.
‘You bet they are. And when it comes to politics at that level, some damaged girls and a few murdered men don’t count for much. Until they start to attract unwelcome attention—something that threatens the status of the monarchs, that is.’ Jakob kicked a pebble along the road. ‘There’s something about this case that can bring down Abelsen and Lyberth, and possibly the Minister for Greenland as well. And unless I’m very much mistaken, the crux of the matter has nothing to do with politics and everything to do with the minister, who has a taste for little Greenlandic girls.’
Karlo stopped. ‘What? Are you serious?’
Jakob nodded. ‘I am, but I can’t prove it yet. I…’ He exhaled. The wind was pulling so hard at their clothes that they both struggled to stand still. ‘I think that’s the connection, but right now it’s just a theory.’
Karlo rubbed his forehead and the snow scattered from him. ‘Once this storm dies down, the Minister for Greenland will fly back to Denmark.’
‘I know.’ Jakob shook his head. The gusty snow stabbed his face like icepicks. ‘But there’s not a lot I can do about that. I simply haven’t got the evidence.’
‘And we can’t arrest the three of them purely on a hunch.’
‘I know that too.’
‘So what happens, then?’
The wind took hold of Jakob and he missed a step. ‘It’ll play out like I said. We’ll be ordered to arrest Olesen so that he can be convicted of the murders, and if we don’t, then I’m finished.’
‘And the girls?’
‘No one gives a toss about the girls.’
Block P was starting to emerge from the snowstorm in front of them. Jakob heaved a sign of resignation and glanced at Karlo. ‘We’ll have to see what happens.’
46
Karlo knocked on the door to the apartment they had already visited twice.
Jakob wondered how best to handle the conversation. He couldn’t very well apologise for having kept the girl, because there was no way he was giving her back to such a father. It was out of the question. But then again, Karlo didn’t know that Paneeraq was back at his house. No one knew, nor had the parents reported her missing, which proved Lisbeth’s point.
‘I don’t think they’re in,’ Karlo said, knocking so hard the whole stairwell could hear.
Jakob grabbed the handle and pushed it down. The door made a small click and opened. He looked at Karlo and raised his eyebrows. ‘Let’s take a look around.’
‘Are you sure? After all, Mortensen—’
‘—isn’t here,’ Jakob cut him off, pushing the door wide open and taking a step inside. ‘Something’s wrong.’
Karlo nodded slowly and moved past Jakob. ‘It smells like someone has been hunting.’
The two men looked at one another, and the reality dawned on them simultaneously.
‘Oh, no,’ Jakob exclaimed, and with long strides he followed Karlo into the living room, where he came to an abrupt halt. Anguteeraq Poulsen was lying on the floor in front of them. His intestines had been cut out and left around his body in a bloody circle of death. His skin was gone, except for that on his hands and feet. His facial features had been erased. All that remained were brown muscle fibres and pale sinews. His teeth grinning. Exposed a
nd hysterical.
Jakob raked his hands through his hair, all the way to the back of his neck.
Karlo had already squatted down by the body. ‘Jakob,’ he said slowly. ‘The four men we listed as the worst offenders are all dead now. No one else.’
Jakob stared straight past Karlo and down at the dead man’s forehead. They had both seen it.
‘There’s a piece from your jigsaw puzzle on his forehead.’ Karlo’s voice was hoarse.
Jakob closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘It must be the man from the Faroe Islands who put it there…He was messing about with my jigsaw puzzle last night. The one I told you threatened me with a knife.’
Karlo nodded, but he looked away.
‘Surely you don’t think…?’ Jakob ground to a halt and his shoulders slumped.
‘No…no.’ Karlo shook his head.
‘Where’s his wife?’ Jakob heard his own voice say the words, but it was Karlo’s body that moved. Past the dead man. Past the blood and the stench of gutted prey. Around the sofa, where he stopped. He looked up. Stared at Jakob, who stepped past the body of Anguteeraq Poulsen so he too could see the dead woman on the floor behind the sofa.
She hadn’t been killed in the same manner as the men. Far from it. She had suffered a single injury to her head. That was all. Someone had hit her hard, and the blow had killed her. It might not even have been intentional.
‘There’s one thing I don’t understand,’ Karlo said, interrupting Jakob’s train of thought. ‘You don’t seem to be worried about the girl at all.’
They both looked towards the door to the bedroom from where, a few days earlier, Poulsen had carried his daughter.
Jakob knew he had to react quickly to the question. Say the right thing. But his thoughts were so disjointed that all words deserted him.
Karlo took three long strides towards the door, pushed it open and disappeared inside. ‘She’s not here,’ his voice called out from inside the room. ‘But then, you already knew that, didn’t you?’
47
Paneeraq smiled contentedly. Jakob’s coffee table was covered with rocks. Not as densely as the shore of a pebble beach, but more like a display in a shop. She had arranged them on the stripy wood, pretty much in order of size. Only one had received special treatment. The small, fossilised sea urchin lay at centre stage, with plenty of room around it.
She had spent hours lining up the stones, and was finally satisfied with her efforts. It had been a big job because there were so many colours, shapes and patterns, and no two of them were alike.
She trailed her hand across the stones, and tapped them lightly with her forefinger one by one while she reeled off an endless list of names. ‘Hansiina. Nivi. Aviaaja. Rebekka. Olga. Julianne. Nuka. Najak.’ The finest of them all was Paneeraq, in the middle. It was also the softest and had been found in Denmark, which was far away.
At school they had seen many pictures and movies from Denmark. It was a country with tall trees with fruit on the branches, and it was warm. In the summer the children could run around and play outside—for a whole day, if they wanted to—without getting cold. It was hard for her to imagine, but she thought that it might explain why the little sea urchin was so smooth and fine. All that heat. After all, stones could melt if they got very hot.
She was wearing her white dress with the big coloured dots that she had worn yesterday, and the same yellow socks. She had nothing else, but Jakob had said that he would get the nice lady from the police station to help find her some clothes. They could also get some from her mum at home, but she didn’t want to leave yet. Being at Jakob’s was fun and peaceful.
Outside it was daylight, and the snow glowed white and bright through the windows. Jakob wouldn’t be back until it was dark again. Completely dark. Just after five o’clock, he had said, but he had also promised her that he would try to be home sooner than that.
She was startled by a sharp noise. She tumbled to the floor and disappeared into the grey woollen rug under the coffee table world of soothing rocks.
The noise came again—three hard knocks. Someone was outside. There shouldn’t be anyone outside. No one should be knocking on the door. Jakob had said so. No one comes here. Jakob had said so.
She clutched the sea urchin in her small fist. Mumbled to herself into the rug, telling herself that no one was knocking on the door. But they were. And they did it again. Three fresh knocks. Hard. Exploding against the wooden door.
Don’t open the door to anyone, Jakob had said. But someone was banging on it now. The handle rattled. Up and down. She tried pushing herself into the deep pile of the carpet. Hiding in the grey, dusty world.
On the shelf below the coffee table was Jakob’s book about rocks. The boring one. She could see its spine and the words on it. She closed her eyes. She tensed her body. Praying to turn into a stone herself.
The hammering resumed, and a voice reached the living room through the window near the coffee table. The voice called out to her. It spoke her name, but it wasn’t Jakob’s voice. It was angry. She had to open the door, the voice ordered her, or they would break it down. But she wasn’t going to open the door. She didn’t want to let the angry men in. She didn’t want to leave Jakob’s house and the stones.
The noises by the door changed. One crash after another. Paneeraq’s fists were clenched in front of her mouth, while a monotonous, hoarse sound seeped out between her lips. Her body rocked back and forth.
The door gave in with a heavy splintering and slammed into the wall. She shook her head. Cried out no on the inside. Where is Jakob? Where is Jakob?
Her dress grew wet. As did the rug. And her face. The chanting between her tightly pressed lips grew louder and more panicked.
Voices jumped around her like snarling dogs. They spoke but said nothing. A big hand grabbed her and spun her around. She didn’t want to look.
Relax, the hand said. We have you now. You’re safe. He can’t hurt you anymore. You’re free.
Did he hurt you? another voice said, but she didn’t want to see or hear them. These men were wicked. They had come to take her away from the stones. And Jakob’s sofa.
Bloody hell—she’s pissed herself!
Two big hands grabbed her and picked her up. You’re coming with us, the voice behind the hands said. The hands were very strong. She fought but she wasn’t strong enough.
The voice shouted at her and the hands squeezed her tight. They shook her. She lashed out with her feet. The hands tightened their grip. She couldn’t breathe. She dropped the sea urchin. She was slung over someone’s shoulder and restrained.
The shoulder was hard. The back below it broad. Her eyes followed the small sea urchin as it rolled across the floor. It fled towards the bedroom, but lost speed before it got to safety and ended up lying on its side, its fossilised stomach pointing diagonally up into the air.
Paneeraq stopped moving. Her hands were clamped together, and her legs held in place. Then she screamed her own name. She cried out for the sea urchin, which grew smaller and smaller with every step taken by the body below her, until it disappeared.
They left the house. Everything around her grew cold. The frost nipped at her arms, her face and her legs. The urine froze on her thighs. As did the tears on her cheeks. Her eyes stung.
A car door opened and she was plonked onto a cold plastic seat. Someone tossed in her jacket, boots and satchel. The door slammed shut. She pushed against it and pressed her face against the icy glass. Her mouth wide open. Her teeth grinding against the windowpane. She was still screaming. Screaming deep inside herself.
48
The moment Lisbeth saw Benno and Storm arrive at the police station with Paneeraq, she jumped up and ran to the little girl. She knelt down in front of Paneeraq and tried to look into the girl’s red eyes.
‘What have you done to her?’ she challenged the two officers.
‘We just went to fetch her,’ Benno said casually, attempting to maintain his status in fr
ont of the angry secretary. ‘Out at Jakob’s. She was like that when we found her.’
‘Yes,’ Storm piped up. ‘There’s no way we’re taking the rap for this. The girl was already lying on the floor screaming when we came in.’
Lisbeth gently pulled Paneeraq close and could feel the child shaking all over. She turned her attention to Benno. ‘And how did you get in?’
He shrugged. ‘She was lying on the floor without moving, so we broke down the door.’
‘Standard procedure,’ Storm added. ‘We were sent to pick her up, and she was just lying there on the floor. How were we to know what he had done to her?’
‘Have you completely lost your minds?’ Lisbeth was whispering in order not to frighten Paneeraq even more. ‘Have you no idea how traumatic that would have been to a child?’
She got up slowly and guided Paneeraq carefully to her chair and desk. ‘Now, you sit here for a moment,’ she said softly, pulling open a drawer and finding some chocolate. ‘I’ll get you some cocoa in a minute, and afterwards I’ll take you home with me. This isn’t a place for children.’
‘But we…’ Benno cleared his throat. ‘She’s in our care, and we need to get her seen by a doctor today.’
On hearing this, Paneeraq flinched.
Lisbeth squeezed Paneeraq’s arm and shook her head dismissively. ‘Just ignore them. I’ll go and get your cocoa now, and we’ll leave very soon.’
Paneeraq nodded. Her eyes had started to liven up a little.
‘If I hear either of you say another word to that girl, I’ll bloody well kill you.’
Benno looked at the small, incensed woman. ‘Listen, we were only doing our job.’
‘Your job? What kind of a job is it to scare the living daylights out of an already broken little girl? Eh? Can you tell me that? Have you really no idea what this child has suffered? Not just for one night, but for years.’
Benno stared down at the wooden floor, as if an answer could be found in its cracks.
The Girl without Skin Page 18
