‘Line up along the wall!’ Oswald said. ‘Facing me. Can you manage that?’
A moment of chaos ensued. They pushed and shoved, crashing into each other and stumbling over one another’s feet until they were in a long line against the wall.
Oswald glanced around, a resigned look on his face.
‘What a team,’ he said dryly. ‘I’m impressed.’
These rapid shifts between sarcasm and suppressed rage were the worst. You never knew when he would explode or who would be the target. This would be the worst moment to annoy him.
Jacob had ended up far down the line, just a few people from the end.
‘Fine,’ Oswald sighed. ‘This will have to do. Here’s the deal. In this room is an imbecilic whackjob who thinks he can defy me. The guards have seen someone sneaking around the property in the middle of the night, near the cellar. As I’m sure you understand, I am a little tired of being disobeyed. Perhaps this person would like to reveal himself?’
Total silence. Not a sound. Most people cast their eyes downward. Jacob vanished into a state of shock, no longer aware of his surroundings, but was dragged back to the room by the sound of his heart pounding. His first thought was that it was all over. But then he felt the others’ fear, the terror that spread through the dining room, and he realized he was far from the only one harbouring a secret.
‘Okay then. I guess you’ll each have to look me in the eye, one by one,’ Oswald said. ‘It won’t take long, I assure you. I can expose guilty people in the blink of an eye. Furthermore, guilt has a smell – and the odour of burning is strong in here at the moment.’
He walked up to the first person and stared intently at them, lingering for a moment before moving on. Slow but determined. There was something about the way he moved: he was graceful and resolute, but he had an impenetrable aura that made you feel small and insignificant. It struck Jacob that the impeccability Oswald projected might be just a shell that hid his true demons. The thought helped him relax a little; he stopped squeezing the phone so hard. He, too, could put up a façade. He must not look guilty when Oswald reached him.
He noticed that Anders, who was standing next to him, was already breathing too fast, nervously.
Oswald stopped in the middle of the row and shook his head.
‘Well. If this isn’t quite the doughface parade. Why do I put up with you all?’
He moved on. So close. Jacob was flooded with thoughts. What if they find the phone? And trace it to Simon? What will happen to Sofia? Oh my god, what will I do?
He was dragged back to the present moment by Anders’s voice, which sounded unusually squeaky.
‘It was me, sir!’
Oswald stopped.
‘I’m sorry, sir! I was working late. I thought I saw Elvira in the courtyard in only her nightgown. I went to check on her. I wasn’t going to the cellar, I swear, I was just passing by, I…’ The words caught in his throat.
By now Oswald was in front of Anders, leaning over him. His face was twisted with rage; his eyes flashed. It was as if electricity was streaming off him. Anders stared at him in fear, completely paralysed.
Jacob smelled the sharp odour of urine first, and when he turned his head he saw the dark stain spreading down Anders’s trouser leg. Oswald, who had noticed it too, was flummoxed.
All of a sudden, his face went back to normal. He took a step back and began to crack up. No one dared to join in. His laughter echoed through the room, so chilling that Jacob got gooseflesh.
‘Look at this bastard! He pissed himself like a dog. He looks like a fucking dog. All that’s missing is his tail.’
The staff began to laugh too. It was hesitant at first, but then it grew and exploded, all mixed up with relief and Schadenfreude. The tense atmosphere became a little less oppressive now that they could take comfort at the expense of a fellow staff member.
Anders was trembling uncontrollably, and Jacob thought for a moment he might faint, but he just reeled backwards and sunk his chin to his chest in a pose of absolute submission. Jacob had never seen Anders so shattered.
Oswald turned to Corinne.
‘He will be sleeping in the doghouse with that fleabag of a mutt tonight. And he has to salute the dog each time he runs into it. Maybe that will get him to listen to me. At least the fucking dog comes when you call it.’
With no further ado, Oswald turned to look at Jacob. His eyes were vacant. But then something glimmered deep down in his pupils. Recognition, or maybe suspicion. His eyes narrowed, his mouth opened – all while Jacob fought to keep his gaze steady. For some strange reason, his scalp was sweating. He tried to calm his wild pulse. He could feel his scrotum retracting. A frightening thought gnawed in the back of his mind. What if he can see straight into my brain? But Jacob decided he was not about to give Oswald that sort of access.
Then Oswald closed his mouth again. He turned to the staff. ‘You can go now. Make sure Anders bunks down with the dog. We need more peer pressure around here.’
Oswald stayed put while the staff hurried off. A group had already gathered around the doghouse by the time Jacob walked outside. He saw Anders’s back, how he knelt on the ground to crawl into the tiny house. Anders – the toughest, the loudest, the one who always picked on everyone else, who had testified against his own daughter – now completely destroyed.
A chilly wind from the northwest whipped across the manor. You could hear the sea crashing in the bay. It must be freezing in the doghouse. Jacob pictured Elvira’s look of despair and realized he didn’t feel sorry for Anders. He only hoped he would be nice to the dog.
Back in the dorms, he had trouble calming down and felt doubt creeping in for the first time. What he was about to do was so reckless and dangerous after tonight’s intermezzo that he wondered if it would only make everything worse and put Sofia in a more serious bind than she was already in. Once again, the others were asleep. Their grunts, snores, and odours, and the merciless darkness, brought out his courage again. Not a chance he was going to tolerate this for another day. Even another second was unbearable.
He stroked the back of the phone with his thumb and steeled himself.
56
Although it was still dark, a blackbird was warbling outside the cellar window. Then came a gentle knock on the pane. She sat up in bed. Something was scraping against the window, like a branch brushing it in the breeze.
She turned on the light and saw a person’s shadow outside. She ran over to the closet to get the ladder, which she dragged to the wall. She propped it open and climbed up. A face was pressed to the window – a face she didn’t recognize at first. But then she saw it was Jacob, the guy who cared for the animals. She became dizzy with joy, almost lost her balance, and had to grab the windowsill to keep from tipping backwards. The window opened just a little before the padlock stopped it. Jacob put a finger to his lips. She could see his face clearly now.
‘I have to be quick,’ he whispered. ‘Simon knows you’re here. We’re going to come get you tomorrow, when the staff are out in the forest.’
‘Jacob, you have to hurry. He’s going to kill me next time.’
‘We’ll come, I promise. Can you fit through the window if we pull you out?’
‘Yes, I’m sure I can. Can’t you take me with you now?’
‘No, we have to break the padlock. And the guards…’ Jacob gave a start and turned around. ‘Shit, I think they’re on their way back to the booth from the kitchen. Be ready – early tomorrow morning.’
His face disappeared. She wanted to break the glass, grab at him, make him pull her out. But he was gone. She climbed down and folded the ladder, then dragged it back to the closet in case Oswald came by. Then she sat down on the bed, her head spinning – waves of relief, but between them, the fear that something would go wrong.
She tried to fall asleep, but it was impossible. Her heart was fluttering like a frightened bird trying to escape from her ribcage.
To battle her growing unease, she be
gan to pace. Out, out, have to get out. The refrain was on repeat in her brain. She wondered what time it was. It was still dark. When would the staff leave?
She lay down on the bed again, thinking about what she would do when she got out. If she got out. It stung to think of Mattias. When she recalled how she had misjudged him, she felt like she was suffocating. Why hadn’t she seen through his smarmy propositions? He had followed her all the way to San Francisco and then spent three months diligently watching her. Just to bring her here. Oswald would never let her go. If she didn’t manage to escape, she would die in this musty underground cell. All at once, she was overwhelmed with exhaustion.
As quick as blowing out a candle, she dropped off.
She was roused from sleep by someone jostling her back and forth; she found herself dazed, her body leaden with fatigue. She had slept so soundly that it hurt to open her eyes. He was towering over her, shaking her whole upper body. The ceiling light was blinding, but she could see his eyes. Clouded with fury.
‘Sit up!’
He let go of her and paced back and forth while she sat up, still half asleep. Morning hadn’t come yet; she must not have slept for more than an hour. And now she wondered what on earth was going on. He came back to the bed and stood with his arms crossed, observing her for a moment – calm on the surface, but with that insane look and those faint twitches from the muscles of his face. His pants and shirt looked wrinkled – he couldn’t have gone to bed.
‘Who was here?’ he asked.
She put on an expression of bewilderment.
‘No one has been here.’
‘Don’t lie to me, Sofia. I already know Anders was sneaking around the property in the middle of the night. Now I want to know if he talked to you.’
He was furious, his voice so loud he was almost shouting. His face had turned red. Sofia wondered if he had mixed up Anders and Jacob; he wasn’t usually too particular about what names he called the staff.
‘Why would Anders talk to me? I don’t understand what’s going on.’
‘No? Well, you will soon. Might I remind you that Anders is Elvira’s father, and after all, you and she were so tight. I’ve already had a chat with her but of course she’s flatly denying everything. And you know Elvira. She transforms into a sobbing martyr as soon as you so much as poke her. So now you and I are going to get to the bottom of this.’
‘There’s nothing to get to the bottom of. I didn’t talk to them.’
‘We’ll find out soon. It’s all about trust and obedience. If we’re going to be able to work together, you must be completely loyal. I thought we had made some progress, and now this.’
‘But you’re the only one I’ve talked to, I swear.’
‘We’re done discussing this. Get up, we’re going to take a little walk.’
She gasped for breath and realized two things simultaneously: he was going to move her, and she wouldn’t be there when Simon and Benjamin arrived. The whole plan had gone to hell.
She rose on trembling legs. She had to pull herself together and keep from crying. All she was wearing was the old T-shirt she’d had when she arrived, and her underwear. She’d washed the shirt in the sink and hung it to dry in the bathroom. It was still a little damp. She felt silly and pitiful, standing there with her bare feet on the cold concrete floor as he eyed her thoroughly. She felt the sudden urge to attack him, grab the screwdriver from under the pillow, but she knew how strong he was. Better to play along until he calmed down.
He walked around to stand behind her and pulled her arms behind her back. He used something that felt like rope to bind her wrists and hustled her over to the door. In the midst of her misery, she felt relieved that she would get to leave the horrible cellar room.
The stairs that led out of the cellar had no lighting. It was total darkness, and all she could hear was his heavy breathing as he led her up the steps.
She was blinded by the bright light in the great hall. Although she had been nearly certain he would take her to the attic, he pulled her toward the main entrance instead.
‘Now, don’t get any ideas,’ he said. ‘Benny’s the guard on duty and he already knows you’re here. The rest have crashed after a royal dressing-down, so no one will see or hear you.’
Ice-cold air hit her as he opened the door. The weather had turned, and a fresh breeze sighed above them. The sky was turning indigo; daybreak was close. She hesitated, but he took her arm and dragged her down the front stairs.
‘Go to the little gate in the wall,’ he said. ‘And make it fucking quick.’
She moved across the courtyard as if in a trance. The only thing that felt real was the hard gravel beneath her feet. Not even the cold could touch her, because her whole being was suffused with fear – where was he taking her? She floated forward like a ghost. His claw-like fingers squeezed her arm.
‘Where are we going?’ she asked.
‘We’re going to test your loyalty,’ he said, letting out a hoarse laugh.
All at once, she knew where they were headed.
The wind picked up as they reached the heath. The ground poked and sliced at her feet. She had begun to shake with the cold, and tears stung under her eyelids. The moon was almost full, and it illuminated the heath in a deep purple tone. The sea, black and thundering, came into view. White foam hissed atop the waves, which rolled in one on top of the next. A tiny streak of light glowed on the horizon, but otherwise the sky was dark. Devil’s Rock extended out over the water, majestic and bare and merciless. He guided her to it, tugging at her arm, forcing her to walk faster.
I’m as good as dead, she thought. Have to do something, have to react. She threw herself to her knees, pulling him down with her. She tried to get up and run but it wasn’t easy with her hands tied behind her, and he was quick to lift her right up again.
‘Stop making trouble, otherwise this will end badly,’ he said.
‘Please, have mercy on me!’ she cried in desperation.
‘I’m not a merciful man! Don’t you know that by now?’
Then she began to cry for help, bellowing until she thought her lungs would burst, but the sound was swallowed up by the roaring wind.
They had reached Devil’s Rock. He led her to the very edge and stood behind her with a firm grip on her shoulders.
Down below, the sea crashed against the rocks. An eddy under the cliff tossed water in all directions; it splashed up on them. She couldn’t take her eyes from it. A swirling mass of seaweed flew up at them. The water was flowing in through all the cracks between the rocks. The salt spray hitting her skin made her feel like the water was having a taste of her, getting ready to swallow her whole.
The incredible power of the water pulled her down. She was so cold her teeth were chattering and her body was shaking. She could feel her heart pounding under the thin fabric of her T-shirt. The storm had made the edge of the cliff slippery and slimy. She almost lost her footing, but he steadied her. At first she thought he would shove her into the sea, but he held her tight.
‘The sea is greedy, Sofia,’ he hissed into her ear. ‘And the current is strong tonight. Now: say the words. The words you say before you jump.’
She let out a shrill scream, shaking uncontrollably.
‘Never!’
‘If you do, maybe I’ll untie your hands before you jump. Say it! That, or admit that you talked to Anders and Elvira.’
‘I didn’t talk to them.’
‘Then say it!’
The little chant was still imprinted in her brain. The strange plea for the sea to cleanse you of sin.
She began to cry and the tears were washed away by the saltwater spray.
‘May I leave my betrayal in the depths and rise to the surface pure and full of devotion,’ she mumbled.
‘Louder. Shout it! Shout it out to the sea.’
She screamed the words, bellowing like the old foghorn. She pressed against him, trying to make him back away from the edge. But he put his arms around her,
holding her firmly, and pushed back. Then, suddenly, he let go and put one arm behind her knees and the other at her back. In an instant he had scooped her up. He took a few steps forward until he was standing at the very edge of the cliff. He held her over the sea. The weightlessness made her dizzy and she had the insane feeling that he might have already let her go. She felt herself floating in the air and then falling helplessly. But then he took a few steps back again and she realized she was still in his arms.
‘Did you talk to anyone?’ He had to shout to be heard over the sea and the wind.
‘No, I swear, no!’
‘You’re a witch, you’ll float.’
‘Please, I’ll do anything!’
He took another few steps back and staggered as a sudden gust of wind caught him. For a second she thought he would drop her, but he recovered his balance, turned around, and walked back to the slope in front of the rocks. He set her down on the ground so she was facing him. He grabbed her by the hair and pulled her face close.
‘Now you know how thin the line between life and death is. The only question is, who has the power? From now on you will obey me. Spread your legs when I want you to. You will kiss my feet and call me sir, like everyone else does. Do you promise you will?’
She nodded frantically.
‘Great. We can go home now, and you can sleep on this little lesson.’
He was quiet on the way back, nudging her in irritation whenever he thought she was moving too slowly. The fear that he would change his mind made tears trickle down her face. She had stepped on something sharp and her heel was throbbing with pain – it felt like the skin was broken. But she didn’t dare speak up about it. She could no longer feel the cold; her body was numb and felt stiff as a board. But she dragged herself on.
Once they were through the gate, he stopped and pulled her body close so her back was against his stomach. He was rock-hard, still excited after the incident by the sea.
‘You’re beautiful, Sofia, you know that?’ he whispered. ‘Not as tight as a fourteen-year-old, but still beautiful. And while we’re on the subject, you have a delightful ass.’
Shadow of Fog Island Page 33