I'm Travelling Alone

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I'm Travelling Alone Page 34

by Samuel Bjork

‘No, no one has been here.’

  ‘Hasn’t anyone called you?’

  The boy shook his head.

  ‘The landline doesn’t work. There’s no noise when I pick up the handset and mobiles are really expensive, did you know that?’ Emilie nodded and stroked the boy’s hair.

  ‘They are quite expensive, that’s true, and you don’t need to have one, either.’

  ‘No, that’s what Tobias says.’

  ‘Who are the Christian girls?’

  ‘We don’t know, we’re just guessing,’ the little boy said. ‘Some say they eat people, though that’s not true, but we know they don’t go to our school, they have their own school.’

  Emilie Isaksen knew about as much as everybody else about the new residents up in the forest. Which was practically nothing. The teachers had discussed them in the staff room, but it had mostly been gossip; after all, none of the children was registered with the school, so they were not their responsibility.

  ‘So he went there last Saturday and no one has seen him since?’

  ‘I don’t know if he went there on Saturday. Liverpool won three nil. Luis Suarez scored a hat-trick, do you know what that is? Why don’t all televisions show the football? Did you bring me any food? I really like pizza.’

  ‘Do you fancy some pizza?’

  ‘Yeah, I really do,’ Torben said. ‘But you have to see this first.’

  ‘OK.’ Emilie smiled.

  ‘This is a piece of rock that fell from the moon,’ Torben said, showing her a black stone with holes in it. ‘We kept it because the aliens might want it back, and then they can kill two birds with one stone, because they’ll be able to repair the hole in the moon and we get to see the people who live there. Cool, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, that really is cool,’ Emilie said, getting impatient.

  Tobias Iversen had been missing for seven days and no one had sounded the alarm. She dreaded to think what could have happened to the handsome boy she had come to like so much over the last year.

  ‘And this is the secret number for a police officer Tobias and I know. We can ring him whenever we need anything, or if we’re in Oslo. Because we’re heroes, did you know that?’

  ‘Yes, so I’ve heard,’ Emilie said, and stroked Torben’s hair again.

  She could only just get her fingers through it. He really needed a bath. And some food. And, not least, someone to talk to. The two brothers had found the second murder victim in the grotesque series of child murders that was all over the media. At school, they had held an assembly the day after the discovery, with several psychologists present so the children could discuss the events with someone if they wanted to.

  ‘This man is called Kim. It says so here.’ Torben pointed proudly.

  He handed her the business card and pointed at it again.

  ‘K-i-m, Kim, isn’t that right?’

  ‘Well done, Torben, I didn’t know you could read?’

  ‘Oh, I can,’ the boy smiled.

  Emilie looked at the business card.

  Kim Kolsø, Violent Crimes Section, Special Unit

  ‘Do you know something, Torben?’ Emilie said, getting up.

  ‘No?’

  ‘I think we should go get a pizza.’

  ‘Yes!’

  The little boy punched the air.

  ‘But first I think you should have a shower and put on some clean clothes. Do you think you can manage that yourself, or do you want me to help you?’

  ‘Pah, I can do that myself,’ the little boy said, walking across to a wardrobe.

  ‘These are my clothes,’ he said, pointing to the three bottom shelves.

  ‘Great.’ Emilie smiled. ‘You find what you need and then take a shower. Afterwards we’ll go get some pizza.’

  ‘Ace,’ Torben said, kneeling down in front of the wardrobe to pick out the items he needed.

  ‘I’m stepping outside to make a phone call, is that OK?’

  ‘You’re not leaving, are you?’

  The little boy looked at her with anxious eyes.

  ‘No, no,’ Emilie said.

  ‘Promise?’

  ‘I promise, Torben.’

  She stroked his hair again.

  ‘Now, you go shower, OK?’

  ‘I will,’ Torben said, and skipped out of the bedroom and into the bathroom.

  Emilie didn’t want to know what state the bathroom was in. She could barely conceal her despair any longer. The two brothers who had to live in these conditions without anyone taking care of them.

  She waited until she heard the shower being turned on before she went downstairs and outside to make the call.

  ‘Ringerike Police?’

  ‘Yes, hi, my name is Emilie Isaksen. I’m a teacher at Hønefoss School and I would like to report a child missing.’

  ‘Hold on,’ the voice said. ‘I’m connecting you.’

  Emilie waited impatiently while she was transferred through the system.

  ‘Holm speaking.’

  Emilie introduced herself again and explained the situation.

  ‘And where are his parents?’ said the man on the phone.

  ‘I don’t know. I found his younger brother home alone. He’s been on his own for a week.’

  ‘And the boy, we’re talking about, Tobias, was that his name?’

  ‘Iversen. Tobias Iversen.’

  ‘When was he last seen?’

  ‘I’m not sure, but he left behind a note which was found last Saturday. The note said he had gone into the woods to look for, well, it’s a religious group that has bought the old rehab centre up there, perhaps you have heard about them?’

  ‘We have,’ the police officer said.

  He fell silent for a moment. It sounded as if he was covering the microphone on his phone. Perhaps he was consulting some of his colleagues.

  ‘So we’re talking about the boy whom you say is missing, and his parents are gone as well, is that what you’re telling me?’

  Emilie could feel that she was starting to dislike him.

  ‘Yes, that’s what I’m saying,’ she said curtly.

  ‘So how do you know that he’s not with his parents?’

  ‘I don’t.’

  ‘So he could be with his parents?’

  ‘No, he’s up in the woods!’

  ‘Says who?’ the voice said.

  ‘He left behind a note for his brother.’

  The man on the telephone heaved a sigh.

  ‘Listen,’ Emilie said, losing her patience now. ‘I’m here with a seven-year-old boy who has been at home alone for one week. His brother is gone. His parents are gone. And you’re telling me that you can’t …?’

  She could feel the rage surging now. She had to breathe deeply to keep the conversation going.

  ‘No, of course we can’t. I’ll make a note of it and we’ll see what we can do about it tomorrow. Would it be possible for you to drop by the station sometime later today?’

  ‘Tomorrow?’ Emilie shouted. ‘Are you going to let a boy who has been in the woods for a whole week spend yet another night outside? What if something has happened to him?’

  ‘I understand, but I can’t just … I mean, what if the parents have gone on holiday and taken the boy with them?’

  ‘And left his seven-year-old brother at home alone?’

  ‘Worse things have happened,’ the police officer said. ‘I’ll make a note of your number, I’ll look into it, and someone will call you back.’

  ‘You do that,’ Emilie snarled.

  She gave him her number and hung up.

  Chapter 70

  Gabriel Mørk was standing outside the exclusive block of flats in Frogner, getting absolutely no response. He was starting to get annoyed with Ludvig, who had dispatched him here. He hadn’t realized that his job would involve fetching groceries. He knew he wasn’t a senior member of the special unit – after all, he had only just started – but to go shopping? Surely someone else could have done that? He had more important th
ings to deal with right now. He looked up at the flats and rang the doorbell again. There was still no response. It was a smart development. The most desirable part of West Oslo. Each flat had large windows and a terrace overlooking the park. He thought about his girlfriend and the baby she was carrying. He had been so worried to begin with. Where would they live? How would they pay the bills when the baby came? They’d had to buy so much stuff, and he was embarrassed at how ignorant he’d been. He really hadn’t known the first thing about becoming a father. Cots and buggies – and that was only for starters. But not any more. Now he had a job. Out of the blue. A cool job, at that. An important job. He had never thought that he would come to see it like that. The police had been … the enemy, to be blunt. To the other hackers he knew. But they had no idea what they were talking about. They hadn’t met Mia Krüger. And Holger Munch. And Curry. And Anette. And Ludvig. And Kim and all the others. They didn’t know what it was like to have colleagues. Going to work, being a part of something where people smiled and said hello and knew that you belonged to the team, who liked you and respected the work you did. He felt he was helping make the news, somehow. He had never cared much about the news before, not until now, but this was completely different when it was about your own work. Also, the equipment the technicians from Grønland had brought him was brilliant. He would never have been able to afford it himself; for the first few days he had almost felt like a little kid at Christmas.

  He rang the doorbell yet again and wondered what kind of property he and his girlfriend should buy. They couldn’t afford anything in this area, obviously, but perhaps something nice on the other side of town? Probably not with a garden, but their own place; he could feel how much he was looking forward to it. His name on the door. We live here, Gabriel and Tove and Ö well, they hadn’t discussed baby names yet. He was just about to try the doorbell once more when the front door opened and an old lady came out. He smiled politely to her, held the door open and slipped inside the stairwell.

  He carried the bags up the stairs to the second floor. Ludvig had explained that it was the flat at the far end of the corridor. He was about to ring the bell when he noticed that the door was ajar.

  ‘Hello?’ he called out softly. ‘Is anyone here?’

  He carried the shopping inside the hallway.

  ‘Hello? I’ve brought you some things from Holger Munch.’

  It was not until then that he discovered the body.

  What the hell?

  He threw down the bags, called 112 and knelt down by the woman lying on the floor.

  Chapter 71

  Mia Krüger broke the speed limit, but so what. She had been wrong, wrong all along. It was the wrong Munch. The killer wasn’t coming after Holger. She was the target. She swore softly and overtook an articulated lorry. She only just managed to throw the car into the right-hand lane again before the oncoming traffic reached her. Behind her, she could hear the lorry driver sound his horn angrily as she pressed the accelerator even harder. Not the right Munch. Not Holger. But Edvard Munch. Åsgårdstrand. It was her. Mia Krüger. She was the target. Not Holger. She was ashamed. She had been wrong. Damn! why didn’t Munch pick up his phone? She overtook another car, a campervan this time, turned the steering wheel with one hand as she returned to the inside lane, again in the nick of time. She pressed the mobile to her cheek, considered using the police radio but decided against it. You never knew who was listening in, and she didn’t want anyone to hear what she had to say.

  She was just about to try Munch once mor, but was interrupted when her mobile rang. It was Gabriel.

  ‘Where’s Munch?’ Mia said.

  ‘Where are you?’ Gabriel said.

  ‘On my way to the office. Where’s Munch?’

  ‘Heaven only knows,’ Gabriel said. ‘He’s not answering his bloody phone, Mia.’

  It wasn’t until then that she realized how distraught he sounded.

  ‘What’s happened?’

  ‘Marion is gone.’

  ‘Jesus Christ!’

  ‘She really is.’

  The young man was almost stuttering now.

  ‘I went to the flat with some things and I found her on the floor.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘His daughter.’

  ‘Miriam?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Bollocking bollocks.

  ‘Is she all right?’

  Mia moved into the opposite lane again. She passed three cars before returning to her own lane.

  ‘She’s unconscious, but she’s breathing.’

  Miriam must have been drugged, Mia thought Hadn’t she not told them they needed to have an officer posted outside 24/7?

  ‘And no trace of Marion?’

  ‘None,’ Gabriel said.

  The young man was almost on the verge of tears now.

  ‘Have you tracked Holger’s phone? The last time I talked to him, he was on his way to the care home. His mother had taken a turn for the worse.’

  ‘His mother?’ Gabriel asked.

  ‘Forget it. I need to speak to him right now.’

  ‘I’m not at the office,’ Gabriel said. ‘I’ve gone to Frogner.’

  ‘Get back to the office,’ Mia said, sounding her horn at a motorbike that was hogging the lane in front of her.

  ‘We … work … noise red …’

  ‘I can’t hear you,’ Mia said. ‘Say it again.’

  At last she had overtaken the biker and could hit the accelerator once more.

  ‘We’re working on the film right now, noise reduction,’ Gabriel said.

  ‘Good. When will we have it?’

  ‘As soon as it’s ready.’

  ‘Yes, but when will that be?’

  She was losing her temper and took a deep breath. This was not his fault. He had done a good job.

  ‘I can’t say for sure,’ Gabriel said.

  ‘Get yourself to the office and call me when you’re there.’

  She ended the call and rang Ludvig.

  ‘Where have you been?’ her colleague wanted to know. ‘All hell has broken loose here, haven’t you heard?’

  ‘Yes, I’ve heard. Where’s Holger?’

  ‘No idea, he’s not answering his phone. Are you far away?’

  ‘Twenty minutes, half an hour,’ Mia said.

  ‘Damn. This is a total cock-up.’

  That was undoubtedly true. They had had Marion under police protection, and now she was gone.

  She ended the call and rang Directory Enquiries. It had started to rain now. The raindrops beat the windscreen hard and visibility was diminishing. She turned on the windscreen wipers, but didn’t take her foot off the accelerator.

  ‘Directory Enquiries?’

  ‘Please put me through to Høvikveien Care Home.’

  ‘Would you like me to inform you of the number?’

  ‘No, damn it, just put me through,’ Mia snarled, and hit the brakes when she realized that she was dangerously close to the verge.

  It took a long time before anyone picked up.

  ‘Høvikveien Care Home. Birgitte speaking.’

  ‘Yes, hello, this is Mia Krüger. You wouldn’t happen to have Holger Munch there, would you?’

  ‘He was here a while ago,’ the voice said.

  ‘I know, but is he there now?’

  ‘No, I haven’t seen him.’

  Bollocks.

  ‘Is Karen there?’

  ‘Yes, Karen is here. Hang on.’

  A million seconds passed. Mia felt like screaming into her phone. She had to turn the windscreen wipers on to max in order to be able to see out of the window. A million more seconds passed before Karen finally arrived.

  ‘Yes? Karen speaking.’

  ‘Hi, Karen, it’s Mia Krüger.’

  ‘Hi, Mia, nice to hear from you.’

  ‘Have you seen Holger today?’

  ‘Yes, he was here earlier. His mother had a turn, but fortunately it was nothing serious. The doctor gave her something to m
ake her sleep and—’

  ‘Yes, all right, fine,’ Mia interrupted her. ‘But is he there now?’

  ‘No, he’s left.’

  ‘Do you know where he went?’

  ‘No, I don’t. He was completely exhausted. I told him that …’

  Mia swore under her breath. She didn’t have time for this.

  ‘… so I woke him one hour later. He didn’t look all that well when he left, but Ö’

  ‘But you don’t know where he went?’

  ‘No, he got a call and ran out of the door. He didn’t even say goodbye,’ Karen said.

  ‘OK,’ Mia said. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Listen,’ Karen said, just as Mia was about to ring off.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘I don’t know if this is important, but her car is outside.’

  ‘Whose?’

  ‘Malin. Malin Stoltz. Her car is here.’

  It was now raining so heavily that Mia was forced to slow down. The raindrops battered the windscreen almost like hailstones; she could see the cars in front of her hit the brakes, the red lights glowing at her through the windscreen. She eased off the accelerator and exhaled. Holger had got a call. Who from? Someone had called him, and he had run. Holger never ran. He hadn’t even said goodbye. But run. Who on earth made Holger Munch run?

  The killer.

  It was obvious. Marion had been abducted. The killer had called Holger. Holger, for his part, had not called anyone from the team. He had run off without saying goodbye. It had to be Marion. He would never run for anyone else.

  ‘Are you still there, Mia?’

  ‘Sorry, Karen, what did you say?’

  ‘Oh, it’s probably not important. We can talk about it another time.’

  ‘No, what did you say? About her car?’

  ‘It’s downstairs in the underground car park. I don’t know if it means anything, but …’

  ‘What kind of car is it?’

  ‘It’s a white Citro‘n.’

  A white Citro‘n.

  Mia looked through the windscreen. Trying to work out where she was. She saw a sign saying Slependen. She wasn’t far from the care home.

  ‘I’ll be there shortly,’ she said. ‘Is the car locked?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Karen said. ‘But she might have left a spare key in her locker in the staff room. She can be a little distracted, misplacing things, I think I heard her say that’—

 

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