The Girl With No Heart

by Marit Reiersgaard

  «I thought I saw you here the other day,» he said with a smile, ordering the dog to sit while he went behind the car to push.

  Oh, no, Bitte thought, he must have seen me when I ran outside half-naked and called after the kids. Hope he doesn’t know I’m a cop. She accelerated carefully, and the car slipped into place under cover. The man waited and joined her on the walking path.

  «I hear you’re a police officer,» he said. «Must say that’s comforting.»

  Bitte looked at him. Was he being sarcastic?

  «There have been a few break-ins here, so I’ve installed an alarm.» He smiled and pointed at the dog.

  «Little expensive to operate, but works fine. And you live alone? With two kids?»

  Good grief, word does get around, Bitte thought.

  It was already dark, and she had forgotten to turn on the outside light. She fumbled with her key. She’d forgotten to leave a light on inside too, so the apartment was dark. She groped her way to the switch. Nothing happened. She opened the door again and looked down the street to see if it was dark in the other apartments. Warm light was streaming out of all the windows. So, it was just at her place. The fuse box, where was it again? And the flashlight? In the entry she glimpsed the flat compartment with old-fashioned plug fuses. She didn’t see anything, felt her way forward to feel if any of them were warm.

  Should she run after the man with the dog and ask for help? No, hell no, she thought. That would make the whole police force seem helpless. Instead she went into the kitchen and started rooting around in the drawers in the hope of finding matches. She found a matchbox in the drawer with kitchen towels. Thank God she had bought three big pillar candles, which she had placed on a plate on the coffee table. She lit them and saw how the reflected light and her own likeness suddenly appeared in the dark windowpane. She could see the yard and the rest of the complex through her body.

  Bitte Røed checked the fuse box again and discovered that fortunately only one fuse had blown. The second floor seemed to be okay, but there were no extra fuses. She couldn’t bear the thought of maneuvering the car out of the garage again, so she gave up and decided it could wait. She had light in the bathroom after all. And candles were very romantic.

  She curled up on the couch with a pen and the back side of an old shopping list to plan her Christmas shopping. Her thoughts wandered. The interview with Agnar Eriksen had not resulted in anything other than a feeling of being a social worker for someone with serious mental scrapes. He still recalled nothing from the night of the murder. Everything seemed locked, and as long as they didn’t have sufficient evidence that could nail him to the crimes, they were left with an unsolved case. She looked at the blank paper and wrote Peder: Soccer shoes? Xbox FIFA game. He wanted an iPhone, but that was out of the question. Julie would probably rather have a gift card to the mall, so she could shop for clothes at the after-Christmas sale. She felt a growing anticipation about the coming holiday. She wondered what she should get for Kristian. He had asked her what she wanted, but she didn’t know. I’m fortunate, she thought. I have everything I want.

  There was a sudden tug in her chest when her thoughts touched on Idunn’s mother and father. And Verner. All of them parents, but with no children. What would be the point of Christmas if she lost one of the kids? What would be the point of anything?

  She picked up her phone, wrote two short messages with a heart and smiley face and sent them, one to Peder, one to Julie. They were with Robert this weekend. It suddenly felt so quiet in the house. And cold. She lit a fire in the woodstove and sat there staring at the flames. She wondered if she should ask if Kristian wanted to go for a walk, but dismissed the thought. Mustn’t be too pushy. Besides, he had said he had to work.

  She missed him, thought she heard his voice. Just the way he said her name made her shiver. She set the list of presents on the table. A sense of restlessness drove her to get her laptop, but it occurred to her that the modem had no power and went upstairs to charge. The door to Julie’s room was open. As usual it was a glorious mess in there that threatened to spill out in the hall. Maybe she should tidy up a little?

  The bedding was wadded up, and Bitte sat down on the edge of the bed. She put Julie’s pillow to her face and breathed in the sweet aroma of her daughter, and suddenly it was as if she was struck by a great, unmanageable sorrow. How long can such an odor linger? Did Idunn’s mother sit on the edge of the bed to capture the last remnant of her girl? Suddenly there were tears in her eyes.

  «Jeez, pull yourself together,» Bitte said out loud. «You’re just premenstrual and oversensitive again. Julie is with Robert... hello! She hasn’t been kidnapped or killed. Your kids are safe. You’ll see them on Sunday.»

  She puffed up the pillow and straightened the bed. Something hard struck her foot as she picked up the bedspread from the floor to put it in place. She picked up the book that had fallen out of the bundle of bedding. Didn’t know that Julie kept a diary, she thought, opening the cover. She was about to set it on the desk when she realized what she had in her hand.

  It wasn’t Julie’s. Marte Skage had been written with ballpoint pen on the inside of the cover. A rush of adrenaline made her ears ring. Why was this in Julie’s room? Should she give in to temptation and sneak a peek at what could quickly become evidence? She had just opened the first page and seen the curving handwriting when she heard a snap from a door being opened. She listened.

  Silence.

  I have to get used to these house sounds soon, she thought, opening the book again. She started from the back and found the last page that had writing on it.

  I see Idunn standing by my bed when I wake up. I see her turn her back to me. Then she leaves the room. When I go into the bathroom, she is sitting on the edge of the tub. I can see the jars of bath crystals through her body. She looks at me. It’s awful when she twists her lips to the side and smiles. Her teeth are completely black, and her eyes transform. They turn into dark cavities. I try to ignore her. Get into the shower and turn on the hot water. When I use the brush and scrub off the last specks of the paint she sprayed on my skin, she disappears in the steam. But when I get out and grab the towel hanging on the hook, she’s there again. «You’re dead,» I say. «Can’t you just leave me alone?» She doesn’t answer. Just keeps staring at me with those empty eye sockets. She follows me when I go into my room. And now, as I’m writing this, she is sitting beside me. I can feel her cold shoulder leaning next to mine.

  Bitte Røed shuddered. What in the world did this mean? She dropped the book on the floor with a thud when the phone buzzed beside her, making a sound that meant she had received a message. The kids, she thought with a smile. She knew they thought she was a sentimental fool who always had to send love-you messages every time they were staying with their dad. But the message was neither from Peder nor Julie. It was from Marte.

  Hi Bitte. You probably wonder why I’m contacting you, but I feel like I can trust you. I have to talk with you. Important! Can you come now? Please. I’m at the obelisk. Need you!

  Bitte Røed stared at the message, read it again. She knew that Marte had been in for an interview earlier in the day. Did she know something? Something she hadn’t told the others? Why didn’t she talk with her father? She wrote back.

  Of course you can trust me! What do you want to talk about?

  She sent the message and waited. She looked at the diary, wondered whether she should read more, but it wasn’t right. She had just written that Marte could trust her. Instead, Bitte went down to the living room again. The fire in the wood stove was burning with clear yellow flames, and the aroma of birch wood spread every time she supplied the stove with a fresh log. Five minutes passed, then the inbox chimed.

  Love you too, Mom <3

  From Julie.

  Bitte smiled and sent another heart back.

  Another chime. A message from Marte.

  Can’t write it. Scared. Come!

  She pushed the phone icon beside Marte’s n
ame on the display in the hope that things could be worked out without her having to leave the warm living room. She let it ring a long time, but no one answered. A sudden feeling that something was wrong came over her.

  Not another girl, Bitte Røed thought, blowing out the candles on the coffee table. She quickly pulled on her coat and slammed the door behind her. The road had not been plowed, and she walked in slush up over her ankles. She left the garage door open and hoped she would be able to get back in again if she had enough momentum.

  She also needed speed to make it up the first steep hills to Høgdabakkene. She wondered what Marte wanted from her. And why was she here, deep in the forest? Had someone forced her back to the scene? She passed the burned-down house, and soon the road leveled out. She saw the red and white barricade tape in the headlights. She stopped, but let the engine idle and looked around without leaving the car. She saw no sign of Marte.

  Bitte Røed turned the car and parked it by the side of the road. A flap of barricade tape had come loose and fluttered in the wind. Marte hadn’t broken through and gone down to the obelisk, had she? She fished the Maglite from the glove compartment and left the car unlocked, stood a moment, and listened. A faint hum from the highway. And the quiet sound of falling wet snow. Otherwise nothing. She swept the light across the area. Nothing. She went out on the ledge and shone it down toward the obelisk. Nothing. No tracks in the snow either, she noticed. Where was Marte?

  Bitte Røed got irritated. Was someone playing a joke on her? Then she got scared. What if something had happened to Marte, that she was in the area and injured or... God forbid... a frightful thought struck her. I’ll call Verner!

  She entered the number. It couldn’t be helped that he had looked worn out earlier in the day. She had a dire need to hear that secure voice, and after all he was the lead investigator with the overall perspective.

  «Hello, Bitte?»

  He sounded happy.

  «Yes, hi, is this a bad time?»

  «No, we’re taking a little break right now, so it’s just fine.»

  «Are you still at work?»

  «I’ll be heading home soon.»

  «I’ve received some text messages from Marte,» Bitte said. «I think she knows something, but now I’m unsure how much I can get involved, I know that I’m disqualified, but Marte trusts me. I’m sure I can get her to say more than you’re able to... That is, don’t get me wrong, but...»

  There was silence on the other end. The devil take my dirty, red-painted mouth, she thought. How was she able to say so many stupid things in such a short time? She heard Verner clear his throat.

  «What does she say?»

  «I haven’t talked with her yet, that’s what’s a bit annoying, she doesn’t answer the phone when I try to call her. I’m afraid that maybe something has happened to her. She said she was at the obelisk and asked me to come, said she had something important to tell me. She seemed scared.»

  «Bitte, where are you now?»

  He sounded agitated. That was unlike him.

  «I’m out by the obelisk, but I don’t see her.»

  «Get out of there!»

  «No,» said Bitte. «What if she’s around here someplace and—»

  «Bitte Røed, go home and stay there. Now!»

  She could hear that he was serious. She walked toward the car while she fiddled in her pocket and tried to find the keys. Where had they gone?

  «It’s a trap, Bitte,» said Verner Jacobsen. «Someone knows something, and someone may think you know something. I’m sending a patrol car from here at once to check around the obelisk.»

  «Verner, relax, what in the world would I know? I’ve been removed from the case.»

  She kept talking, mostly to dampen her own insidious fear. She opened the unlocked car door, got in, and looked in the rearview mirror. The darkness looked back.

  «Marte is just a girl,» said Bitte. «I’m used to keeping up with teenage girls.»

  She tried to smile. The keys! Where were the keys?

  «Bitte,» Verner said slowly, as if he was talking to a child. «Marte didn’t send you those messages.»

  Finally, she located the key ring in the chaos of lipstick, candy tins, and old receipts in the deep jacket pocket. It had worked its way into a hole in the lining. She put the key in the ignition and started the car, the wipers creaking under the weight of wet snow that had already settled on the windshield.

  «Of course, she did.»

  She didn’t take the time to connect the phone to hands-free, but held it between her cheek and shoulder while she maneuvered the car down the narrow forest road. The driving snow made visibility poor.

  «No, because she’s sitting here at the police station,» she heard Verner say. «We’ve asked to go through her cell phone, but she claims she lost it. She doesn’t have a phone.»

  88

  The wheels on Bitte Røed’s car were spinning on the ice again as she approached the garage. She backed up and left the car at the bus stop, even though strictly speaking that wasn’t allowed, but what could she do? The area wouldn’t be plowed until early the next morning. She sat there, phone in hand, and opened the messages again. Who are you? she thought, staring at the words. Could it be Fredrik? Fredrik and Marte had something going. Were they together on this?

  She put the phone in her jacket pocket, walked down the street to the apartment and happened to remember the conversation she overheard between Marte and Julie a few days ago. She had not intended to eavesdrop, but she had been unable to withstand the temptation to put her ear to the door to Julie’s room. She remembered the words Marte had used.

  «It was like she didn’t have any feelings at all, as if she didn’t have a heart. She used everyone. Even Fredrik.»

  And Julie had said, «Everyone has a heart, Marte, but some people’s hearts are colder than others.»

  «Idunn’s heart is cold now, anyway...»

  Silence.

  Then Julie’s voice, whispering.

  «You’re happy about that, aren’t you, Marte?»

  Bitte couldn’t pick out any more of what was said over the background noise before she heard Marte crying.

  «And now it’s me... » Marte had said. «It feels like I’m the one who doesn’t have a heart now.»

  Bitte Røed put the key in the lock but realized as she was about to turn it that the door was unlocked. Did she forget to lock it? She remembered slamming the door behind her when she ran out a short time ago. Yes, she must have forgotten to. She took off her boots and jacket and assured herself that now the door was locked from the inside.

  She could not let go of the thought of why Fredrik, or someone else, wanted to lure her to the obelisk. What did that person have to tell her? And what was it they thought she knew? Verner had said he would call her back, but the phone was silent.

  The candles fluttered on the table as if someone had opened a window when she came into the living room. There must be a draft, Bitte thought, going over to the patio door. She looked out. The little patch of yard was about to be snow-covered again. It would be nice to have a little Christmas tree out there, she thought. She saw the lights reflected in the window when it suddenly occurred to her. It was quite possible that she had forgotten to lock the door, but she clearly remembered blowing out the candles on the table.

  A click in a door from the floor above. It felt like an insect was on its way up the back of her neck.

  These are not house sounds, it occurred to her. There’s someone here.

  89

  Verner Jacobsen decided to go to Lier himself. He got hold of Ida Madsen, who had also worked late. Ida offered to drive. Neither of them said much on the way over. He wondered for a moment which colleagues he felt most comfortable with—the quiet, controlling ones, like Ida, or those who were rougher around the edges. Like Bitte.

  He stared intensely at the iPad on his lap, and skimmed through the interviews with Fredrik, Kristian, and Agnar Eriksen. It felt as if he was under the
ice. He heard his father’s voice. Look toward the darkness! The open channel is there.

  «Do you know that thoughts rush through your brain at such great speed that an average person can think up to seventy thousand of them a day?» said Ida.

  «What?»

  «The information is there,» Ida continued, nodding toward the iPad. «We have to stop having seventy thousand thoughts in our heads right now. I think the answer is in one of those interviews. I have a feeling that we’ve overlooked something.»

  Yes, Verner thought, it’s here somewhere, just as sure as the open channel. It’s just a matter of finding it. He directed his gaze at the screen again.

  The forest seemed even gloomier now, if that was possible. The driving snow prevented the light from the greenhouses from spreading over the area. The headlights lit up a dense wall of snowflakes ahead of them. It was almost impossible to see anything other than that white wall, but right behind was the darkness. They passed the site of the fire. The house stood like a skeleton with black bone shafts reaching up and disappearing in the snowfall.

  Ida accelerated to make it up the last hill before it leveled out. The car skidded sideways, and they barely avoided ending up in the ditch. He saw that she pushed back against the seat and held her breath a moment, but didn’t say anything. She let up a little on the gas as the road started to decline. Then they were there.

  The red and white barricade bands were broken.

  «That people can’t have a little respect!»

  Verner jumped. Verbal outbursts from Ida were unusual. But she quieted down immediately.

  «Wish we had our service revolvers,» she whispered.

  They sat there a little while and stared out the windshield, but all they saw was darkness and snow. Snow and darkness.

  90

  Bitte Røed stood with clenched fists, listening, while she tried to recall the most effective self-defense methods. She knew where to hit and kick to do the most damage, it was just a matter of having the right timing. There were no longer any sounds from upstairs. Had it just been her imagination? She was about to go up to the second floor when she heard a door opening and steps on the stairs.