by Thomas Enger
‘Really?’
‘We’ve alerted all the customs stations, but no one has seen his car yet, and he hasn’t gone through any tolls, which he would have done if he’d abducted Nora and driven off at the time that her phone stopped giving signals.’
Henning put his phone back in his inside pocket.
‘Maybe he’s waiting for the people to finish off out there,’ he suggested. ‘Then he’d have the place to himself.’
Løken looked at Henning. ‘He’d be mad to go there now. He’s got no way of knowing if we’re coming back or not. Unless there’s something he needs out there…’
Henning remembered what Nora had told him about Patrik. He raised his hand.
‘His boat,’ he said. ‘Patrik’s got a boat out there!’
56
The sound of an engine starting woke Nora up. Her eyelids were glued together. Her head ached. She was lying on her side. She tried to move but quickly realised her hands were bound; and there was something over her mouth – a piece of cloth that tasted old. She breathed through her nose, shallow and fast. She managed to turn her head. Parts of her cheek were stuck to the leather upholstery; she’d been lying with her face pressed into it. Prising open her eyes, she looked around, but her head was woozy and it took a few seconds to focus.
She was on a boat.
It started to move. The sudden acceleration pushed her backward, and, unable to stop herself with her bound hands, she fell head first onto the floor. She groaned, twisting and breathing into the floor, trying to get out of her awkward position. What the hell’s going on? she wondered. Where are we going?
She had no doubt that Patrik was at the helm. And she knew where they were; she’d seen his boat the first time she went out to Oscar Hellberg’s summer house. She even remembered what it was called.
La Dolce Vita.
The boat lifted up on a wave and then slammed down onto the water again. It sent a jolt up Nora’s back; she moaned and heard the spray splattering on the side of the boat. Patrik made some tight turns, slowed down, then accelerated again. Nora knew what the Vestfold coast was like. Lots of small islands and shallows. And as it was dark, it wasn’t easy to know where there might be small, sharp rocks that could tear holes in the hull. But Patrik was an experienced sailor; he spent five weeks on the boat every summer with his wife. Hopefully he knew these waters well.
Another wave lifted the front of the boat, then dropped it again with a thump. Nora groaned loudly.
Despite her pain, despite the fear, she felt the need to work out what might have happened. It might just help her. If it was Patrik who had killed his aunt, then he might have killed Daniel Schyman, too. According to Patrik’s wife, he’d been in Sweden quite a lot recently.
Patrik might have been just as angry with Ellen as William was, Nora reasoned. Ellen had ruined their parents’ marriage. And if she also intended to let the world know how the Hellbergs had made their fortune after the war, it would affect Patrik as much as all the others. It wasn’t only their reputation that would be damaged, but also their wealth. The family’s entire future was in danger.
Somehow or other, Hedda must have found out what Patrik had done. And that was why she went to Sweden. Then she’d gone back to Hulebakk to confront him.
But it was one thing to kill an old Swedish man at a distance. And quite another to kill your own sister, standing there in front of you.
The boat settled into a steady rhythm, rising and falling on the waves. You can’t just lie here, Nora said to herself.
Then she felt the boat slowing down. And soon it wasn’t moving at all. Patrik’s shoes appeared on the steps up to the flying bridge above her. Nora curled up into the foetus position. She wanted to scream, but the gag muffled any sound. She snuffled and snorted, but saw, to her relief, that he had nothing in his hands.
He seemed to be angry, though, Nora thought, squinting up at him and trying to shrink away. He came over and lifted her up into a sitting position. Then he paced backwards and forwards in front of her, rubbing his hands on his trouser legs. Nora tried to read his face. He was thinking; it must be about Hedda. He would have to get back to check on her soon. She couldn’t be left alone without care and supervision for too long.
And the thought of Hedda unconscious on the bed, made her go over everything again.
In a matter of seconds, everything fell into place.
Of course.
Nora tried to say something, but still the gag stopped her. Patrik glared at her, before he jumped back up onto the flying bridge. Nora tried to work out where they were, but could only see a few lights on land, which looked some way off. There were no other boats, no shadows or the outline of an island.
Then Patrik came back down the steps, he came straight for her, grabbed hold of her arms and picked her up. And pulled her over to the rails.
57
Cato Løken put the phone to his ear.
‘Hi, it’s me,’ he said, and quickly recounted Henning’s theory. ‘We need to launch the police boat, as fast as…’
Henning and Iver stared at the policeman as he waited for an answer.
‘What do you mean?’ he said.
Henning took a step closer.
Løken rolled his eyes. ‘Tell them to get a move on, for Christ’s sake. And not a word to the press. Say whatever you like, but not a peep about finding Hedda. Tell the hospital people too. Not a word.’
Løken hung up.
‘What is it?’ Iver asked.
Løken sighed. ‘The guys on duty can’t drive the police boat.’
‘What do you mean?’ Henning said.
‘They don’t have a licence to drive the boat. It might take a while to find someone who has the right papers.’
‘Shit,’ Iver snapped. ‘Can’t they just forget about all that – we have to find Patrik’s boat before it’s too late.’
Løken shrugged.
Iver swore again.
‘But there’s a lifeboat station at Jarlsø, which isn’t too far away,’ Løken continued. ‘There aren’t many private boats out on the water at this time of year; and certainly not at this time of night. So if Patrik hasn’t decided to scarper, the chances are we’ll find him relatively quickly, as he’ll be somewhere locally. Especially as he doesn’t know that we’ve found Hedda.’
They stood looking around. Darkness surrounded them.
‘As long as we find them before it’s too late,’ Henning said. ‘Nora’s pregnant as well.’
Iver looked over at him.
‘Well, it’s out of our hands now,’ Løken said.
Henning balled his fists, without being aware of it. ‘Yes, and that’s what I don’t like.’
Nora struggled and kicked so much that Patrik lost hold of her. She fell onto the deck; in her desperation, she ignored the pain. She pulled hard, trying to loosen the cable ties around her wrists, but they only dug deeper and deeper into her clothes and skin.
I mustn’t end up in the water. I’ll die.
Even if she could release her hands and swim, she would die anyway – the water was too cold and they were too far from land.
Patrik came at her again and attempted to lift her up; but she twisted and turned and tried with every muscle in her face to dislodge the gag. She pushed at it with her tongue from the inside, tried to bring her chin up towards her nose, and gradually it worked. The gag loosened, but not enough to free her lips and teeth.
He grabbed at her again and she kicked him in the knee. He screamed with pain, but it only made him angrier, and he lunged towards her with renewed strength, grabbed hold of her jacket and lifted her to her feet. Then he pulled her over to the railing again, kicking a cushion that must have slipped off the sofa out of the way. No matter how hard Nora struggled, he was stronger than her.
Nora could taste the blood in her mouth. She bit and pulled at the gag, trying to get her teeth free. And all the while, Patrik pulled her closer and closer to the railing. They were right at the b
ack of the boat. Nora resisted as much as she could, using her legs and stomach muscles to brace herself, to stop him from throwing her overboard.
And then finally she got shot of the gag.
‘Don’t do it, Patrik,’ she screamed. ‘I can help you.’
Patrik didn’t seem to have heard. The wind whipped his hair from side to side, his face was wet, his breathing laboured as he tried again to throw her in the water. But Nora had managed to hook one of her legs round a table that was bolted to the deck.
The next moment, he shot a look to the side. Nora heard it as well: the sound of a boat approaching. Patrik let her go, peered out into the dark, then leaped up to the flying bridge again.
Only seconds later, the motor roared into action; the boat rose up and the water churned. Once again Nora was pushed back by the force, but this time she managed to keep her leg round the table and clung on.
Gradually she pulled herself up and watched the distance between them and the lights on the other boat grow.
She struggled to her feet, but it was hard to keep her balance. The boat bounced from wave to wave, cutting through the black water.
As Nora put her foot on the lowest step, another wave lifted the boat, and she lost her balance for a moment, then the hull slapped down again. She made sure she was steady before she took another step. There weren’t many so she was soon on the same level as Patrik, only a few metres behind him.
He turned his head as soon as he heard her.
‘Don’t!’ he shouted back at her. ‘Don’t come any closer.’
Nora turned, and discovered she could no longer see the boat they were fleeing. She could make out some islands nearby, but had no idea where they were. She knew that they couldn’t be too close to land, because the shallows stretched quite some way out and even though the islands were marked, it wouldn’t be easy to see them when he was going so fast.
‘It was you who shot at me!’ Nora shouted.
Patrik kept his eyes straight ahead.
‘You tried to frighten me off looking for Hedda. I understand, Patrik, I know that you’ve been looking after your sister for five weeks; you didn’t know what people would think if they were to find her.’
She took a step closer.
‘It would be hard for you to explain that it wasn’t you who killed Daniel Schyman.’
58
Patrik steered east, heading for the lighthouse at Leistein. He listened to what the journalist was saying.
‘If you’d killed Ellen back then,’ she continued, ‘you would never have been stupid enough to shoot at me, because it brought the police out there. You wouldn’t have wanted them to come and search the property, would you? That’s obvious. But they weren’t looking for Ellen, they were looking for your sister.’
Patrik squeezed his eyes closed.
‘I don’t know what happened between the two of you, Patrik, and tell me if I’m wrong, but I’m guessing it’s your fault that Hedda’s in a coma.’
He swung sharply to the left, still at top speed.
‘It’s possible that Hedda won’t wake up again, that she’ll be declared dead at some point, and then it wouldn’t take much for you to end up in prison for murder.’
Patrik still didn’t say anything.
‘I think I can help you,’ Nora carried on. ‘I’m so close to getting the whole picture.’
Patrik wiped his face with his hand. He thought about his father, about what he’d said one of the last times Patrik had gone to see him.
Patrik, there’s something I need to tell you.
Patrik had pulled his chair closer to the bed.
There are some things about me and our family that you don’t know.
Then he told him, in a weak, tired voice, about his relationship with Ellen – that they’d had to stop meeting only days before Ellen disappeared.
But there’s more.
And then he told him about the letter from Sweden, the envelope that his mother had found when she was sorting out the company archives; a letter that told the truth about Brages vei 18 and what should have happened after the war. As she lay dying she had felt guilty that she’d never done anything about it, so she had asked Ellen, who’d been nursing her, to be stronger and more courageous than she had been.
Oscar wasn’t convinced that Ellen had committed suicide, but he’d never been able to prove otherwise. And he’d never managed to find the letter, even though she had told him that she’d hidden it at Hulebakk – where they used to meet, him and Ellen, for their trysts.
Have you told anyone else this?
Only you and Hedda know.
Why haven’t you told William?
Well, William, he…
And then he’d looked away. Patrik knew that they’d never had a good relationship. William had been far too rebellious as a boy, had spent too much time with dodgy friends, not even come to see his father much, now, when he was dying.
Patrik turned to Nora.
‘And you could have denied it all you liked,’ she shouted through the sea spray, ‘but no one would have believed you if you said you had nothing to do with Daniel Schyman’s death. And it wouldn’t help much to blame someone who couldn’t defend themselves. That’s why you thought you’d have to get rid of me as well. Because I’d found Hedda. I could let the big secret out.’
She took another step closer. ‘But it wasn’t you who killed Daniel Schyman,’ she said.
Patrik looked straight at her.
‘It was Hedda.’
59
Patrik stood looking at Nora with his mouth open. His eyes wide.
He had tried to talk to Hedda about the past, about Daniel Schyman, but she’d made it absolutely clear that she thought they should let it lie.
‘It was too long ago,’ she’d said. ‘It’s got nothing to do with us.’
But it did; it had everything to do with them. They had been given a golden opportunity to make amends. And that was why he’d looked up Daniel Schyman – discovered that he still lived in Karlstad. But when he told Hedda that he’d been in contact with the Swedish pensioner, that he’d agreed to meet him in Sweden and planned to give the old man all the money that was owed to him, she was furious.
‘Do you realise what that will mean for the family?’ she’d shouted. ‘What it will mean for me?’
He hadn’t thought that she would do what she did – kill the old man in cold blood, and then try to kill her own brother as well. For what? To protect a terrible family secret? Her own inheritance?
‘Hedda phoned me,’ he said, and stared out into the dark. They were rounding the south side of the lighthouse and following the red sector towards Hollenderbåen. ‘I didn’t know it was her to begin with, didn’t recognise the number. But she said she wanted to talk to me about something. Out at Hulebakk.’
The boat continued to rise and fall on the waves. He turned back; there were no other boats nearby.
‘When I walked into the living room, I found myself looking straight down the barrel of a hunting rifle. Luckily I reacted before she had time to pull the trigger. I grabbed the barrel and pushed it up, then we stood there fighting for a few seconds, like we were kids again.’
Patrik closed his eyes.
‘Then the gun went off. And in the heat of the fight, I pushed her over and she fell against the fireplace.’
Patrik opened his eyes and looked at Nora.
‘I didn’t know what to do,’ he said, and started to cry. ‘My fingerprints were on the gun; I’d been in Sweden myself that day; and Hedda was lying unconscious on the floor. Of course, I knew how dangerous head injuries could be. I panicked. I knew that all fingers would be pointing at me.’
He could just make out the buildings at Fulehuk, like tiny, glittering eyes.
‘So I took her and the rifle with me. I couldn’t take her to hospital, because then I’d be asked questions that it would be too difficult to answer.’
Patrik looked at Nora again.
‘I drove around without any plan, trying to work out what I should do. Then I passed Morsevik Farm, and remembered that there was a bunker under the barn. Everyone in the family knew about it. I managed to persuade the man who lives there now to rent me the barn.’
Patrik swung the boat round suddenly, then it returned to a steady course.
‘And you looked after Hedda there.’
He nodded. ‘I hoped that she’d wake up, that I’d be able to talk her round, get her to hand herself over. But she still hasn’t come round. And the longer I looked after her, the worse it got, the more lies I had to tell. It’s…’ he shook his head ‘…unbearable,’ he finished.
Nora nodded. ‘And then I rang and asked about Hulebakk, so…’
‘So I went out there and saw a rental car parked nearby. I guessed it was you snooping around, and I was scared you might find something. Her suitcase, for example. You’d written that it was missing. It hadn’t crossed my mind that she’d have some things with her; that she’d intended to stay there for a few days. So I took the gun with me. I had to get you away from the place. Thankfully, the police didn’t go into the house that afternoon, so I went back later and got rid of the suitcase. The extra mobile phone.’
Suddenly there was a loud bang from under the boat. Patrik had to hold onto the wheel in order not to fall down. The boat pulled to the side. He saw that Nora had been thrown forwards into the windscreen, smashing the glass. She was bleeding from a gash on her forehead, but she was still conscious. Then the boat was still. There was a hissing noise in the engine room.
‘Shit,’ he said, and hurried down the steps. There was steam coming out around the door. The water must have reached the hot engine already.
He grabbed two life jackets and ran back up the steps. Nora had managed to get to her feet again. He rushed over to the sticker by the VHF, displaying the lifeboat numbers, got out his mobile phone and rang the lifeboat station at Jarlsø, where Sjømannen was ready to launch at a moment’s notice.
