The Girl without Skin

by Mads Peder Nordbo

  ‘It’s only me,’ Tupaarnaq shouted. ‘Run, goddammit…Run towards the water!’

  He took a sharp right at the bottom of the stairs and headed for the front door. Another rifle shot cut through the night. Her third.

  Outside, the darkness seemed less solid. The sky was pink behind the mountains on the far side of the fjord.

  ‘Run, damn you,’ Tupaarnaq shouted behind him.

  He sprinted down the short wooden footpath that connected the house to the rest of the town. His legs were going at full speed, and he knew they would soon be crippled by lactic acid. Everything began to cramp. His lungs were hurting. His blood boiling.

  The buildings along the quay grew bigger with every step he took in the pink dawn. The damaged wooden walls and the black broken windows.

  ‘We need to get to the boat now,’ Tupaarnaq wheezed behind him. She was panting too.

  He lunged forwards when they reached the iron posts and grabbed the dinghy, which fell limply into his hands.

  Tupaarnaq crashed into him as she, too, reached for the dinghy. ‘Shit.’ She looked across the water. ‘We’ll have to swim.’

  A shot was fired across the sea and they heard a hissing sound in the air close to them. They both threw themselves onto the ground.

  ‘They must have someone on their boat,’ Matthew gasped. His voice was trembling and black spots were dancing in front of his eyes. ‘We need to get out of here.’

  Tupaarnaq glanced over her shoulder. Not far behind them, Abelsen and Bárdur had emerged. Out on their boat was a man with a rifle.

  ‘You missed him,’ Matthew whispered.

  ‘I fired at the ceiling.’

  Another shot tore holes in the air above them.

  ‘Stop shooting, for fuck’s sake!’ Abelsen shouted somewhere in the darkness.

  ‘Come with me,’ Tupaarnaq whispered.

  Matthew followed her round the back of the warehouse at the end of the quay. They sought refuge behind the iron posts under the building. The darkness was dense down here. He could hear Tupaarnaq breathing in short, shallow gasps. Water sloshed around the posts.

  She looked at him. ‘We need to get to the boat…it’s only thirty metres.’

  ‘But the water can’t be more than two degrees—what if we get cramps?’

  ‘Then we drown. It’ll be quick when the body is that cold. Now shut up.’

  ‘Hello?’ Abelsen’s voice interrupted them. ‘Bárdur kindly let the air out of that little rubber dinghy you used to get ashore.’

  Matthew watched as Tupaarnaq sized up the sea. The water was black, so it was impossible to spot any rocks under the surface.

  ‘You see, Matthew,’ Abelsen went on, ‘Bárdur is a very helpful man these days. He grew up here when this was a busy town, and he’s the last one still hanging around. He has always believed that one day he would get the opportunity to avenge the death of his father. That’s all that matters to me. He doesn’t give a toss about the notebook…or your lives. He just wants Jakob, and I can help him with that, now that you have been kind enough to track him down for me.’

  ‘Ignore him,’ Tupaarnaq whispered. Her dark eyes gleamed like the sea below them.

  Matthew shook his head.

  ‘Matthew, are you there?’ Abelsen called out. ‘Bárdur has no use for you. He just wants Jakob. So if you give me the notebook and the film reels, I’ll let you go.’

  The water broke in silent ripples as Tupaarnaq let herself slip through the surface. She looked up. ‘If they hear us, it’s over,’ she whispered.

  Matthew nodded and lowered his feet and legs into the sea. The cold bit into his skin immediately, and he had to fight every instinct not to jump straight back out. Instead he submerged his whole body in the sea, leaving only his head free. Every part of him screamed in pain. His skin contracted. He gasped for air. Briefly. Silently.

  ‘Think happy thoughts,’ Tupaarnaq whispered. ‘Distract your mind and relax, then your brain will leave your muscles alone.’

  He nodded. ‘Okay…Fuck…Okay.’

  Her head started to glide slowly along the surface. She made no sound at all. Every movement happened underwater.

  The rocks disappeared from under Matthew’s boots and he began to tread water. He followed her slowly. The skin under his clothes burned from the cold.

  ‘No sudden movements,’ she warned him.

  Matthew’s throat was cramping too much to speak. He just carried on swimming. Carefully. As if drugged. Right under the surface. The salt water flowed around his face. It cut into his cheeks and lips. His thoughts were jumbling with thousands of images. Tine. Her belly. The red Mercedes. I’m going to die out here, he thought. This is it.

  The cold ate him up. It tore chunks off his flesh. He closed his eyes. They were halfway at best. His legs stopped kicking. I’m coming, he thought. The blue Golf rolled over. His body surrendered. One ear hurt. Insanely. As if someone was trying to pull it off. His eyes opened. Tupaarnaq’s hand.

  ‘Get your shit together,’ she whispered. ‘We’re nearly there. Come on, you wimp.’

  He nodded. He shook his head to clear his mind.

  Somewhere behind them Abelsen was calling out into the early summer dawn. Matthew heard the words ‘bring in the boat’.

  Seconds later, Abelsen’s boat, which was anchored not far from them, started with a roar. Tupaarnaq pushed Matthew’s head under the surface, and at the same time grabbed his jacket. They resurfaced soon afterwards. Matthew’s face felt as if someone was stabbing it with icepicks.

  ‘Come on,’ she ordered him.

  Abelsen’s boat motored towards the shore. Matthew couldn’t hear what the three men were saying to one another over the engine noise.

  He grabbed the stern of their boat and slowly pulled himself up. His body was shaking so badly that he could barely support his own weight.

  Tupaarnaq came out of the water right after him and collapsed on the deck close to him, near the wheelhouse.

  ‘Do you know how to use a rifle?’ she stuttered.

  He shook his head.

  ‘Well, now’s your chance to learn,’ she said, sitting up and taking the rifle from her shoulder. She pulled out the magazine and drained the water from it. Then she pulled the bolt back and checked the chamber, before she let the bolt slot into place again. She cocked the rifle and loaded it. ‘Here.’

  Matthew took it and struggled to his knees, while Tupaarnaq raised the anchor.

  ‘I’ve just checked the battery,’ she said. ‘As soon as you hear me turn on the ignition, you fire at Abelsen’s boat. The distance is very short—you can’t miss.’

  Matthew nodded. ‘I understand.’

  ‘Don’t forget to press the butt hard against your shoulder before you pull the trigger. And don’t drop it—all right?’

  He nodded again.

  A few minutes later their engine made a noise. And then another one. Deeper. The propeller started whipping up the black water. Matthew raised the rifle to his shoulder. The icy steel bit into his fingers as he aimed the rifle at the silhouette on the other boat. Then he fired. One shot. Two.

  The boat beneath him roused itself from the water so forcefully that he nearly toppled over the stern, and he grabbed onto the frame that had held the rubber dinghy. He brought the rifle back up to his cheek, but they were already so far away that shooting again was pointless.

  63

  NUUK, 15 AUGUST 2014

  It was just past eight in the morning when Matthew and Tupaarnaq knocked on Paneeraq’s door and hurried into the living room, where Jakob was waiting.

  The first thing they had done on their return to Nuuk was to put on some dry clothes at Matthew’s place. The heater had been on full blast in the boat, but it hadn’t been enough to dry their clothing.

  Tupaarnaq had pressed the boat harder than she’d wanted to, but the dawn light crawling lazily over the eastern mountains had helped her navigate the sea and the rocks.

  As soon as they we
re close enough to Nuuk to have mobile coverage, Matthew had texted a summary of events to Malik, who had promised to forward it to Ottesen so that the police could despatch a helicopter to Færingehavn as quickly as possible. Matthew had then sent an email to jelly@hotmail.com:

  You know that we saw Najak in the shipping container in Færingehavn—and we have the eight-millimetre films, one with you on it, from when she was alive. You’re finished. The notebook is nothing compared to that.

  Tupaarnaq hugged Paneeraq, while Matthew told them about Færingehavn, Bárdur, Abelsen and the shipping container.

  ‘Did you see her?’ Paneeraq wanted to know, looking from Matthew to Tupaarnaq. The tears that had welled up in her eyes began rolling down her cheeks. ‘Did you see her. Properly?’ Her voice cracked.

  ‘It was her,’ Tupaarnaq whispered. ‘She was in the shipping container.’

  Paneeraq dissolved in Tupaarnaq’s arms and slipped down on the sofa. ‘So she…she died…inside that thing…in that place.’ She looked up with a jolt. ‘How did she look?’

  ‘Yes, she died,’ Matthew said hoarsely. ‘She died soon after the film was recorded.’

  ‘But what did she die from?’ Paneeraq wanted to know. ‘How did she die?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Tupaarnaq said. ‘But she was dressed, and I don’t think that she had been beaten.’

  Matthew glanced at Tupaarnaq.

  Paneeraq slumped again. Her shoulders trembled. Tupaarnaq sat down next to her and pushed up her sleeves before putting her arms around Paneeraq.

  Paneeraq looked up. ‘That jumper is far too big for you, child.’

  Tupaarnaq smiled wistfully. ‘It’s Matthew’s—I borrowed it from him. My own clothes got wet.’

  ‘Oh, dear.’ Paneeraq straightened up and dried her eyes with her fingers. ‘Why don’t we go to my bedroom—I think I might have a jumper that would fit you.’

  ‘All right, let’s do that,’ Tupaarnaq said.

  Matthew turned to Jakob. ‘Abelsen is finished. I have the notebook, the film reels and the fake expenses receipts, and then there’s Najak’s body.’

  ‘Did she really look the way you told Paneeraq?’

  Matthew stared at the floor. ‘No.’

  ‘I didn’t think so.’

  ‘I hope they catch Abelsen and the Faroese who wants to kill you.’

  ‘All I ever did was hide the body, but he probably doesn’t care about that.’

  ‘It was Abelsen who said it. That he wanted to kill you.’

  Jakob nodded and heaved a deep sigh. ‘We’ll have to wait and see.’ He looked up. ‘It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve sat waiting for an angry Faroese who wants me dead.’

  ‘No, but this time your odds are pretty poor.’ Matthew hesitated briefly. ‘Did you know that Karlo’s son lives here in Nuuk?’

  Jakob looked at him in surprise. ‘No, I didn’t know that. I’m afraid Karlo himself is dead.’

  ‘Yes, but his son is a police officer. He’s the one who gave me your notebook.’

  ‘Aha—now I understand.’

  ‘I’ve been thinking that we should contact him and ask him to come over so he can hear everything firsthand.’

  Jakob tapped the drum by the side of his armchair. ‘Karlo’s son. Yes…yes. Do it. Let’s do that.’

  Matthew took out his mobile and texted Malik. He didn’t have Ottesen’s number, but asked Malik to contact Ottesen—and only him—and tell him that Matthew, Tupaarnaq and Jakob Pedersen were in Block 2 with Paneeraq and the notebook.

  Malik replied immediately that he would get hold of Ottesen and tell him to come over.

  ‘There, that’s done,’ Matthew sighed. He slumped back on the sofa.

  Tupaarnaq and Paneeraq returned to the living room. Tupaarnaq was now wearing full Greenlandic national costume.

  ‘Isn’t she beautiful?’ Paneeraq exclaimed in a bright and happy voice.

  ‘Oh, so that’s what you were up to,’ Jakob said.

  ‘I know it’s a bit too small,’ Paneeraq went on, ‘but when I showed Tupaarnaq my national costume, she said she’d never worn one.’

  ‘The boots are too tight,’ Tupaarnaq said shyly. ‘Apart from that, it’s all right, I think.’

  ‘You look amazing,’ Jakob said loudly. ‘Absolutely wonderful.’

  Matthew stared at the young Inuit woman in the colourful, voluminous costume. The sturdy, beige leather boots with scalloped and patterned trimmings. The black sealskin trousers. The beautiful lilac shades of the cummerbund around the waist of her scarlet jacket. The glass bead shawl reaching from her neck down to her waist, covering her chest in a carpet of tiny beads sewn into fine, bright patterns.

  His thoughts moved to her skin underneath it all. Her heavily tattooed body was now hidden beneath this explosion of colour and femininity. The contrast seemed infinite. If her hair had grown out in that very same moment, she would have looked like a completely different person. The costume reached up around her neck, where it ended in several overlapping collars. White, red and black.

  ‘I made it myself,’ Paneeraq said, still smiling. ‘And I’ve offered to make one for Tupaarnaq too, although it’ll be a West Greenland national costume for a girl from the east.’

  ‘But I can’t accept that,’ Tupaarnaq objected. ‘I told you, I know how expensive they are. So I’ve said no. Nor do I deserve it.’

  ‘Deserve it?’ Jakob exclaimed. ‘You deserve everything, child.’ He turned his attention to Matthew and pointed to a small, green-painted wooden box on the floor. ‘Please, would you take a look inside that chest?’

  Matthew slid aside a small metal bolt and opened the lid. Lots of little stones, but also a few bigger ones, lay at the bottom. They looked like dusty red granite. Some were redder and shinier than others.

  ‘You can buy a lot of national costumes with that,’ Jakob said, grinning.

  Matthew looked up at him. ‘Greenlandic rubies?’

  ‘Yes—I told you I collected rocks, didn’t I?’ He was still smiling from ear to ear. ‘In that chest you’ll find rubies and pink sapphires, my friend. I began collecting rocks up here long before everybody else. Mount Aappaluttoq. The name alone drew me to it—it means the red mountain.’

  Matthew’s mobile buzzed in his pocket, so he closed the lid of the chest and took out his phone. It was a text message from Malik: I couldn’t get hold of Ottesen, but I got them to call him on the police radio, so now he knows to drive to your address.

  Matthew shook his head, but before he could tell the others, there was a knock on the door. He jumped; he hadn’t had time to warn Tupaarnaq that Ottesen was coming. Now it was too late. Paneeraq was already making her way to the door, and Tupaarnaq was standing in the middle of the room, brightening it up in her national costume.

  ‘Tupaarnaq.’ Jakob’s voice cut through the chaos that was Matthew’s thoughts. ‘I’ve only ever had one friend I could trust, and today his son is a police officer here in Nuuk. I’ve asked him to come over because I want to tell him everything, and so that you and Matthew can be eliminated from this enquiry and left in peace. We have plenty to tell the police, and it will acquit you both of all charges. I hope you can find it in your heart to trust me today.’

  She glowered at him, but then her gaze softened. ‘I’m not going back to prison.’

  ‘You won’t.’

  At that moment they heard a scream from the front door, and then a bang as it was slammed shut. Another scream followed, but this time it was more strangled and suppressed.

  Paneeraq was shoved into the living room. A hand holding a long knife was pressed up against her neck. The blade pushed so tightly against her throat that droplets of blood were running down the skin towards her collarbone.

  ‘Ulrik?’ Matthew exclaimed, staring at the angry young Greenlander. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’

  ‘Shut up,’ Ulrik hissed through white, strained lips. ‘I’ll cut her if you move.’ His gaze bored into Tupaarnaq, and he pulled
out a bag of long, black strips from his pocket and tossed them onto the floor in front of Matthew. ‘Tie her hands behind her back.’

  Matthew hesitated.

  ‘Fucking do it—or this old cow here is dead. Do you understand?’ He tightened his grip on the knife.

  Paneeraq squirmed, but didn’t dare do anything other than whimper.

  ‘It’s all right,’ Tupaarnaq said. ‘Tie me up.’

  Matthew moved towards her, and she placed her hands behind her back.

  ‘I want you to use three strips,’ Ulrik ordered him angrily. ‘Have you done it?’

  Matthew tightened another two strips around Tupaarnaq’s wrists, then he nodded and straightened up.

  In the meantime, Ulrik had tied a couple of strips around Paneeraq’s wrists. Now he pushed her towards the sofa and faced Matthew. ‘Turn around!’ Ulrik grabbed Matthew’s hands and had soon slipped a thin plastic strip so tightly around Matthew’s wrists that it cut into the skin. Then he turned his attention to Jakob. ‘Who are you?’

  ‘A former officer with Nuuk Police.’

  ‘Yeah? Well, screw you,’ Ulrik grunted angrily.

  Matthew felt Ulrik’s boot collide with the back of his right leg, and he buckled and crashed onto the floor on both knees.

  ‘Hey,’ Tupaarnaq shouted, taking a step towards Ulrik. ‘What the hell are you doing, you psycho?’

  Ulrik punched her hard in the face with his clenched fist. ‘You bitch,’ he screamed. ‘Shut your mouth, you fucking slag!’ He leaned forward and followed up the punch with a blow to her stomach. ‘I’m going to rip that fucking costume off you. You’re no Greenlander anymore.’

  Matthew tried getting to his feet, but received a hard kick to his thigh at the same time as Ulrik grabbed his head and yanked it backwards. The blow to his face made him black out.