by Rose, Willow
"If he hurts Victor in any way…I'll, well, I'll…I'll shoot him myself," I snorted in anger.
I felt Morten's hand on my shoulder. He put his arms around me and held me close to him for a long time. I closed my eyes and tried to calm myself down.
"I'm so sorry that you have to go through all this," he said. "It makes me so angry. We'll find him and Victor. I make that promise to you right now. I'll have all my colleagues working on it today. We will find them both. If I have to follow him to the end of the world in order to stop him, I will. I'm not letting him get away with this."
I turned around and kissed Morten. Tears were rolling down my cheeks. "Why is he doing this to me? Why me?"
"I don't know, Emma. I don't know why he chose you, of all people. He's a ruthless killer. A psychopath. You never know what they'll do next. But I will make sure it's the last thing he does in freedom. I give you my word.
Morten kissed me gently before we walked downstairs and he put on his jacket. "I'll go to the station right away," he said.
"Don't you want a cup of coffee first?" I asked.
He shook his head. "No. I can't think about coffee right now. I just want to catch the bastard. I saw Morten off, then walked into the living room where I found my mom and dad both lying on the couch, sound asleep, my dad's arm around my mom's shoulder. It made me smile for the first time in many hours.
58
February 2014
HE HAD HEARD EVERYTHING. Anders Samuelsen had followed the situation from his hideout in the bathroom of the old house. At first, he had watched Emma Frost come inside and call for Victor, who he guessed was her son. As she had grabbed the curtain and was about to pull it aside, Anders had prepared himself to kill her. He had lifted the sword and was ready to strike as soon as she pulled the curtain aside, but for some reason, she had stopped. Then, he had heard another voice and seen the girl, the daughter. He listened to Emma talk to her daughter about him, about how she couldn't find the son.
When they searched the house, he hid in a cupboard underneath the sink in the bathroom listening to the voices calling the boy's name and the desperation in Emma's voice. He sensed how tense and fear-filled Emma was. He was getting sensitive to these things.
He was surprised that it was her house he had entered, but as time went by, he was more and more certain that it was no coincidence. There was a plan to it all.
Anders stayed in the small cupboard for hours and hours. It was way too small for him, but he had squeezed himself into a small ball, like a true ninja would, and no one would ever suspect that he was in the cupboard, since they would never suspect that any human being would be able to fit in there.
Now that the house had gone quiet and had been for a long time, Anders carefully opened the cupboard door and peeked out. It was light outside now, so night had become day. Anders moaned in pain as he crawled out of the small cupboard. His shoulder still hurt like crazy, but he was getting better at pushing through the pain. The bleeding seemed to have stopped.
He rolled out onto the bathroom floor like small ball and slowly unfolded his sore body. Once he was back on his feet, he stuck his hand behind the bathtub where he had hidden his sword and pulled it out. He attached it to his back, looked at himself in the mirror to make sure his face was still covered, then smiled underneath the black cloth.
Today was a good day for people to die.
Anders sneaked out of the bathroom and down the stairs, then he stopped because he heard voices coming from the hallway. He sneaked closer and watched as Emma Frost said goodbye to someone, then closed the front door. He studied her in secret as she walked into the living room and saw how she smiled when she saw the two elderly people sleeping on the couch. Yet, despite the smile, he could sense how fragile she was at this moment, how tense and fearful she was. She wasn't the same Emma he had seen that day in the cemetery.
What are you so afraid of, Emma-dearest? What makes your heart ache?
Emma found a blanket on a chair and put it over the two people that were sleeping. Then she walked back towards the kitchen with heavy steps. As she turned the corner, Anders hid behind a door. He watched her through the kitchen door that wasn't closed properly. She was sitting on a chair, her elbows resting on the table, hiding her face in her hands. Oh, how it hurt him to see her like this. That was when the voice returned.
You have to do something, Anders. You're the only one who can. You have to save her.
While watching Emma cry into her hands, Anders realized little by little what the plan was…what the purpose for him coming back from the dead really was. It was all about her wasn't it? It had to be.
She needs you Anders. She needs your help.
Of course she did. It went without saying. It was so simple, really. She had helped him get out of the ground, she had helped him get back to life, now he was to return the favor.
59
February 2014
BJARNE NORREGAARD WAS WHISTLING on his way to work. It was a cold morning, one of those he enjoyed immensely. Many people didn't like the long dark Danish winters, but Bjarne wasn't one of them. He loved the clear blue sky and the white snow and the crisp icy air nipping at his nose and cheeks.
Nothing could beat that, Bjarne thought happily to himself.
He parked his bike and walked through the snow towards the back entrance of Citybanken. As the manager, he was supposed to get in before they opened the doors to the public. He was the one who held the key and who opened all the doors, so he had to be the first one there.
Bjarne typed the security code in and turned the alarm off, then found the key and put it in the lock and turned it. He walked inside and closed the door behind him. Still whistling, he walked towards his office in the back and put his briefcase on the desk. Oh how he loved these quiet mornings in the back before the day really started. This day he was particular happy since Bjarne had just learned that he was going to be a grandfather. His daughter Laura was expecting a baby in August. Bjarne and his wife had almost given up hope of ever becoming grandparents, since Laura and her husband had tried for years with no results. Now, after all kinds of fertility treatments, they had finally conceived.
"If it's a boy, we'll name him Bjarne after you, Dad," Laura had said.
That had made Bjarne cry and now, thinking about it, he cried a little again. It was such an honor.
As usual, Bjarne turned on his computer, then looked at the clock on the wall. Ten minutes till his employees arrived. Ten more minutes of peace. Bjarne took in a deep breath and enjoyed the silence. Soon, all five of his employees would be sitting at their desks outside his office, working, typing, and talking on the phone with clients. The entire bank would buzz with activity.
He was going to tell them before they opened the doors. He was going to gather all of them and tell them the great news. Then, he would run to the bakery in the afternoon and buy an Othellolagkage. The best cake you could get, in Bjarne's opinion. And the most expensive. But it was worth it. This was a day to celebrate.
Bjarne walked into the empty front room of the bank where all his employees would be sitting in just a short while. He rehearsed what he was going to say over and over again. Then he stopped.
What was that? Was there something on the floor? Or was it…was it someone? Was there a person lying on the floor of the bank?
Bjarne's heart started racing in his chest. In the twenty-four years he had been the manager of this bank, nothing like this had ever happened. He had no idea how to react.
"Hello?" Bjarne stuttered, nervously.
He walked slowly closer, but was uncertain if he should simply stop and walk back and call for the police. It looked like the body of a small boy.
"Hello?" he asked again and walked closer, driven by his curiosity. "What are you doing in here?"
A thousand thoughts ran through his mind as he walked closer. Was the boy dead? He was lying awfully still, wasn't he? Was he lifeless? Was he sleeping?
"Hello?" Bjarne
asked again, as he came all the way up to the boy's body. "Are you alright?"
The boy was lying on his back and now he opened his eyes. Bjarne breathed a sigh of relief. He had followed the story of The Caring Killer closely in the media and thought for a second it was another of his victims. The boy looked at Bjarne with confusion.
"What are you doing in here?" Bjarne asked.
The boy didn't answer. Bjarne wondered if he even understood Danish. "You're not supposed to be in here," he continued anyway.
The boy moved and tried to sit up, but couldn't get upright. That was when Bjarne realized he had something around his chest, underneath his PJs. It looked like a vest of some sort.
Bjarne's heart stopped. "What's that you have there, boy? What is that attached to you?" he asked with a shivering voice.
"Oh my God," he said. "Is that…is that…a bomb?"
The boy still didn't say anything. He wasn't even looking at Bjarne.
"Let me see," Bjarne said, grabbing the boy's shirt and pulling it up.
That was when the boy started screaming.
60
February 2014
HOW CAN I JUST sit here and do nothing?
The question came into my mind again and again as I sat in the kitchen alone, wondering if my life was ever going to be the same again.
I need to do something. I need to drive around town and call his name, ask people if they’ve seen him. I need to at least do something.
But Morten had told me the police were going to do all that. They were going to search all over town. He wanted me to stay at the house in case Victor came back or in case The Caring Killer tried to contact me.
I felt helpless. Useless. I was scared senseless and was constantly going back and forth on what to do. I was furious and wanted to act at one moment, then terrified and almost paralyzed the next. It was no use. No matter what I did, if I stayed or left to search for Victor, I would always blame myself afterwards for doing the wrong thing if I lost him. I would never forgive myself.
My mom came into the kitchen after half an hour or so and sat next to me. She put her arm around my shoulder. We sat like this for a while without saying a word. It felt nice. I was so glad she was there.
"It's just so frustrating," I said. "I can't stand the waiting."
Suddenly, my phone rang. I grabbed it.
"Hello?"
A voice that was obviously distorted sounded machinelike on the other end. "It's horrifying when you don't know what has happened to your child, isn't it?"
My heart stopped. "Who are you? Where is my son?"
"Did you know that every year, three mentally ill people get killed because they're considered dangerous? Last year, a man was shot dead on a train because he was yelling and screaming inside a train car. And, when the police arrived, they didn't know what to do or how to get him out of the train. They claim they thought he was armed, but he wasn't carrying any weapons. They shot and killed him on the spot because they claimed he was being threatening. Later, it turned out he was schizophrenic. What if he was just scared? What if his mind tricked him so badly that he was terrified?"
"I don't know where you're going with all this. And, frankly, I don't care. I'm sick of these games. I'm sick of you. So you want to focus on the mentally ill and their problems, I get it. Find another way to do it. Leave me and my family alone. I want my son back and I want him back now. Where is he?"
The voice laughed on the other end of the line. It gave me the chills.
"I swear, if you have hurt him in any way…"
"Then what, Emma?" The voice hissed. "Then you'll kill me, is that it? Well, I'm already dead. Don't you realize that?"
"Where is my son?"
"Turn on the TV."
"What?"
"You heard me."
I fumbled around and found the remote for my small kitchen TV, then turned it on. A reporter was talking. On the screen it said Breaking News. Robbery at Citybanken going on right now. Witnesses say a boy with a bomb is inside.
"What have you done?" I asked.
"Tag, you're it," he said, still laughing, then hung up.
I stared at the TV screen.
"What's going on?" my mother asked. "Who was that on the phone?"
"I don't have time, Mom. I need to go into town immediately. Call Morten and tell him to meet me at Citybanken. Tell him I found Victor. He’s inside the bank."
61
January 2008
THE LAST FOUR MONTHS had been going so well. Alexandra could hardly believe it. Samuel was swimming every week with the counselor from Hummelgaarden and he was like a changed child. Every Wednesday, he came home from the pool happy. It was such a joy. It had changed Alexandra's life drastically.
She was still homeschooling him and they still had their problems, but it was nothing compared to how it used to be. The tantrums were fewer and, when they occurred, it seemed Samuel was slowly learning how to control them and his anger. Samuel was making eye contact with his parents when he spoke to them. His tics disappeared and, slowly, they were getting him off his medications.
Ole was working with him on something he called Energy-work, where he talked to Samuel about the negative thoughts and patterns that caused his bad behavior and the anger. Slowly, Samuel regained control of himself and Alexandra recognized that sweet boy she had loved so much. Samuel learned energy exercises enabling him to control his thoughts and body. He began using what Ole called "a loving energy" as a tool to shift his consciousness from dark thoughts into the light. Alexandra and Poul both thought it sounded strange, but as soon as they saw the results in Samuel, they didn't care anymore. It didn't matter how Ole did it or why it worked, as long as it did. As long as they had their son back.
Four months later they were called in for a meeting with the social worker at City Hall. Alexandra was really looking forward to it.
"I hope they’ve found a spot for Samuel at Hummelgaarden," she said in the car on their way there.
They had left the kids at Alexandra's mom's house in order to be able to go there and talk to the social worker alone.
"I think that’s why they want to see us, don't you?" she asked hopefully. "Oh it's going to be so good. Finally, we have some good luck, huh?"
"Let's hope so," Poul said and parked the car.
They walked up to City Hall and were shown into Marianne Moeller's office where they sat down. Two women were present there. One was Marianne Moeller, the other presented herself as Tine Solvang.
"Tine is my supervisor," Marianne said. "She wanted to be present for this, since this concerns all of us."
Alexandra felt a knot in her stomach as she looked into their serious faces. What was going on here? This didn't look like happy news.
Marianne Moeller cleared her throat. "So, we have been informed that your son has been seeing Ole Knudsen on a regular basis. Is that correct?"
Alexandra looked at Poul, then at the two women. "Yes. That's correct. It has been such a blessing for us…"
"That might be, but it's against the rules," Tine Solvang interrupted.
"I beg your pardon?"
"The counselors are not allowed to see patients privately," Marianne Moeller said. "This is a very serious breach of our regulations and will not be tolerated. It cannot continue."
"Excuse me?" Alexandra said.
"Your son can no longer see Ole Knudsen."
"But…but, all they do is to swim together. How can you have anything against that?"
"Ole Knudsen is not allowed to socialize with patients outside of his workplace. Those are the rules."
"But…," Alexandra was about to cry and looked to Poul for help.
"You can't be serious," Poul said. "These swimming lessons have meant the world to us, to our family. Ole has been so great with Samuel. He has changed him completely. Samuel loves spending time with him. All they do is swim, for crying out loud."
"That might be, but he is not allowed to do that. We have given him a repr
imand and, if he is seen with the boy again, then he knows he will lose his job."
Marianne Moeller collected her paperwork in a pile. "That's the way it's going to be."
"But…but…what are we supposed to do?" Alexandra asked.
Marianne Moeller shrugged. "Well, that's really not our problem, is it?"
62
February 2014
A HUGE CROWD HAD gathered outside of Citybanken. I parked my car and ran towards the building. A couple of officers had surrounded the bank and were pointing their weapons at the entrances. I didn't recognize any of the officers and realized it had to be some of those that had been send over from the mainland to assist Morten and his colleagues on the case of The Caring Killer.
I tried to get closer, but was stopped by one of them.
"Don't come any closer. There is a bomb inside of that building," he said.
"Is there a boy in there too?" I asked with a shivering voice.
"Yes, there is."
"I think it might be my son."
The officer suddenly looked at me. He let me through the police tape and led me to another officer, who he told me was the leader of the team.
"So, it's your son who's in there?" the leader asked.
"Yes. I believe it is. He went missing last night…I…is he alright?"
"Well, let's see…He is in the middle of robbing a bank and has taken the manager hostage in there. You’re asking if he is alright? I don't think I care much about that right now."
"I beg your pardon?" I asked and looked at the officer, terrified. "Victor would never do anything like that."
"That's what all parents say. Nevertheless, that's what’s happening here. Your son is in the bank with a bomb around his chest, holding the manager hostage."
