by Samuel Bjork
‘Great, Karen,’ Mia interrupted her again. ‘Please would you find out for me. I’ll be there shortly, OK?’
She ended the call and rang Anette.
‘Anette speaking.’
‘Hi, it’s Mia.’
‘Thank God. Where have you been?’
‘Åsgårdstrand. Has Munch called you?’
‘No, have you heard?’
‘Yes, what a nightmare.’
‘Yes, it certainly is. And Mikkelson is here. He’s freaking out.’
Mia realized that she didn’t give a toss what Mikkelson thought.
‘Who’s in charge now?’ she said, scouting for the exit.
‘Mikkelson,’ Anette replied.
‘But he doesn’t have a clue about what’s going on, Anette. You have to take over.’
‘What do you want me to do? By the way, where are you?’
‘I’ll be in Høvik soon. We’ve found Stoltz’s car. Any news about her, by the way?’
‘No, nothing. What do you want me to do?’
‘Get hold of Gabriel and get the GPS location from that bloody film. And make him put a trace on Munch’s phone. I think the killer might have called him and that he’s on his way to meet him.’
‘OK,’ Anette said. ‘Anything else?’
‘We have to …’
Mia saw the exit for Høvik and turned off. The worst of the rain was easing of now and she could actually see where she was going.
‘Have to what?’
She couldn’t think of anything else.
‘Just get that bloody film sorted out and trace Munch’s phone.’
‘OK,’ Anette said. ‘Oh yes, Ludvig has something for you.’
‘What is it?’
‘A photograph. The therapy group in Hønefoss.’
Brilliant. Her hunch had proved to be spot-on.
‘Ask him to forward it to my mobile.’
‘But nothing on Stoltz?’
‘Not a dickie bird.’
‘OK, I’m just about to arrive. I’ll call you if the car turns out to be interesting.’
Mia ended the call and pulled into the care home.
Chapter 72
Lukas was sitting on the bench by the lake wrapped in a blanket. He was wearing dry clothes, but he still struggled to warm up. Pastor Simon had held him underwater. He had almost drowned. Pastor Simon had asked him if he could see the devil, but he couldn’t, and then the pastor had pushed his head under the water. Lukas was confused. First, the pastor nearly drowned him, then he brought him dry clothes. He had kept the dry clothes and the blanket in the car. The pastor must have planned this? Why?
Pastor Simon returned from the car with a packed lunch and a Thermos flask. He sat on the bench of the picnic table, facing Lukas. Brown cheese sandwiches. He unscrewed the lid on the Thermos and poured hot chocolate into the cup.
‘Eat and drink,’ the pastor said.
Lukas took a sip of the cocoa and felt the warmth flow down his throat. He ate the sandwiches slowly while the pastor watched him. The pastor didn’t say a single word. He sat on the bench with his hands folded in front of him, looking at Lukas with a soft, warm gaze. Lukas was still a little scared, but he was starting to feel much better. The pastor didn’t take his eyes off him for one second. Usually, he would look above his head, towards Heaven, or at some other point; at any rate, never directly at him, never fix his eyes on him like he did now. Slowly, Lukas’s body began to warm up. He tried meeting the pastor’s gaze but was only partly successful. He had eaten all the sandwiches and drunk three cups of hot chocolate before the pastor finally started talking.
‘God sent his only son, Jesus Christ, to earth to take on himself the sins of the world,’ the pastor said. ‘The people had the chance to save Jesus, but they chose Barabbas, the thief, instead.’
Lukas nodded softly.
‘What does this tell you about people?’ the pastor asked him.
Lukas did not reply. He didn’t want to get it wrong and end up under the water again. He could still feel the panic coursing through him.
‘That people don’t know what’s good for them,’ the pastor continued. ‘People should not be allowed to decide for themselves. You understand that, don’t you, Lukas?’
Lukas nodded. They had talked about this before. Most people were stupid. They didn’t know what was good for them. For that reason, God had chosen only a few who would go to Heaven. Only the special ones. The initiated. Those who had realized this. Forty people from the church. And a few others. People from across the world whom they would meet in the course of time.
Pastor Simon looked straight at him and took his hand.
‘I am God,’ the pastor said.
At this, Lukas felt all the warmth return to his body. He started tingling all over, more strongly than ever. From his toes, up to his ankles, his thighs, his stomach, up to his throat, his face was flushed and now, also, his ears.
‘I am God,’ the pastor said. ‘And you are my Son.’
Lukas sat with his mouth hanging open. The pastor was God. It was obvious now. This was how it was. It made perfect sense. When he talked to God in his office, he was talking to himself. The pastor was God. And he, Lukas, was the Son of God.
‘Father,’ Lukas said in awe, and bowed his head.
‘My Son,’ the pastor said, placing his hand on Lukas’s head.
Lukas felt the warmth from the hand of God spread across his scalp.
‘You passed the test,’ the pastor said. ‘You put your life in my hands. And I hope that you trust me now. I could have killed you, but I didn’t. Because you have greater tasks to accomplish before we go home.’
‘Home?’ Lukas said cautiously.
‘To Heaven.’ The pastor smiled.
‘Am I really the new Jesus?’ Lukas stammered.
The pastor nodded.
‘Twenty-seven years ago, I sent you to earth.’
Lukas could barely believe his ears. Of course. It all fitted! And it explained why he had no parents.
‘And I found you again.’ Lukas nodded reverently.
‘You found me again.’ The pastor smiled.
‘But the first Jesus accomplished great things. What have I done?’ Lukas said.
‘It will happen.’ The pastor smiled. ‘Today.’
‘Today?’ Lukas said, with anticipation in his voice.
The pastor smiled and walked back to the car. He returned holding a small bundle, which he placed carefully on the bench.
‘For me?’
‘Open it.’ The pastor smiled again.
Lukas unwrapped the bundle with trembling fingers. His eyes widened when he saw the contents.
‘A gun?’
The pastor nodded.
‘What do you want me to do?’
The pastor leaned towards him and took his hand.
‘Last week, an intruder came into the House of Light.’
‘Who?’
‘A boy, sent by the devil.’
Lukas could feel the rage explode inside him. The devil had sent a boy to stop them from travelling. He knew it. The pastor and Nils had been so quiet recently.
‘But, fortunately, I am stronger than the devil.’ The pastor smiled once more. ‘I know him, but he does not know me.’
Of course, Lukas thought.
Deo sic per diabolum.
‘The path to God goes through the devil.’
Understand the devil. Get to know him. This was what the pastor had meant.
‘And where is the boy now?’
‘He’s being held in the safe room.’
‘And what are we going to do with him?’
‘You are going to kill him,’ the pastor said.
Lukas looked at the gun in front of him and nodded softly.
‘There’s just one small problem.’
‘What’s that?’
‘He has taken Rakel prisoner. My Rakel.’
‘Vile demon,’ Lukas sneered.
‘So
you must be careful. Kill the boy, but don’t harm Rakel. I need my Rakel in Heaven.’
‘I promise to do my best.’
Lukas bowed and kissed the pastor’s hand. The pastor rose. Lukas wrapped the pistol in the cloth again and carried it back to the car.
‘When we get to Heaven, you’ll get your very own Rakel.’
‘Oh?’ Lukas said.
‘I promise.’ The pastor nodded. ‘You know the little angels who have been hanging from the trees?’
‘The girls everyone’s talking about?’
‘Yes.’ The pastor nodded. ‘They’ll meet us up there. You can choose one of them.’
His very own girl? But he didn’t want a girl. God was enough for him. What on earth would he do with a little girl? Lukas decided not to say anything; he didn’t want to argue with the pastor. He put on his seatbelt, started the car and drove calmly down the forest track to the farm.
Chapter 73
Kim Kolsø sat at the back of the incident room listening to everything falling apart. Not for him, but for Munch and Mia. Not that either of them were there – had they been, they might have been able to answer some of Mikkelson’s questions. Mia had been unavailable all day, but he believed that Anette had spoken to her and learned that Mia had been to Åsgårdstrand and was now on her way back. No one had heard from Munch.
Kim Kolsø sighed and drummed his fingers on the table. He looked up at Mikkelson, who was pacing up and down in front of the board like a teacher, his forehead furrowed above his glasses and his hands behind his back. They had been cast as his pupils, about to receive a telling’off. He glanced at Curry, who mouthed the word ‘bullshit’ and rolled his eyes. Kim had to look away so as not to laugh, but he totally agreed. Their workload was insane. Not one member of the team was able to sit still. Not even Ludvig, who was coming up for retirement; he was squirming like a fidgety little kid on the edge of his chair. Gabriel Mørk seemed to have borne the brunt of it. He had been dragged out of his office, where he had been Skyping a mate, who was cleaning up the sound on the Kiese movie. The young man was rocking back and forth against the back of his chair and looked as if he was on the verge of a meltdown.
‘Right?’ Mikkelson said, looking across the room. ‘Is everyone here?’
No one said anything. If Mikkelson was the teacher, they were the naughty kids who had been put in detention due to their lack of respect for authority. The room was a powder keg. The air was laden with tension.
‘Can anyone update us?’
Mikkelson pushed his glasses up his nose and looked across the room again. No one said anything. The class rebellion against the teacher continued; it was childish, but the anger was real. Munch’s and Mia’s loyallest friends and colleagues sat in this room. No one had any interest in seeing them discredited.
‘Where is Holger Munch?’ Mikkelson said. ‘Where is Mia Krüger?’
At length, Anette rose to her feet.
‘We haven’t heard from Holger,’ she said calmly. ‘I have spoken to Mia.’
‘Status?’
‘She was on her way here the last time I talked to her.’
‘And Munch?’
‘We haven’t heard from him for a while, but Mia had a theory,’ Anette continued.
‘I bet she had,’ Mikkelson said sarcastically, without getting much of a reaction from the team. ‘And what was that?’
‘That Munch must have received a call from the killer,’ Anette said. ‘That the killer ordered him to meet him alone, and that’s what he’s gone to do.’
‘But all our phones are being monitored. Is there anything to suggest that this might be the case?’ Mikkelson said.
‘No,’ Gabriel Mørk said. ‘Nothing from his phone before he turned it off.’
‘The killer could have contacted him some other way, couldn’t he?’ Ludvig Grønlie ventured cautiously.
‘What do you mean?’ Mikkelson said.
‘Well, I don’t know, but he has a private email account, I mean, he’s on the Net, Gmail, and so on. We don’t have access to those, or do we?’
Grønlie looked tentatively at Gabriel Mørk; he was well aware that he belonged to a different generation of police officers and hoped that he hadn’t been mistaken.
‘Are you telling me that everything we do online is being monitored? I certainly hope not,’ Curry quipped.
A few of the others tittered.
‘No, we don’t have access to those,’ Gabriel Mørk said.
‘So he could have got a message,’ Anette said. ‘Something which meant he had to turn up for a meeting alone?’
Mikkelson sighed.
‘And is that how we work?’
He looked across the gathering, still without getting the response he was seeking.
‘And is that how we work?’ he said again, a little louder this time. ‘No, it is not, we’re a team. A team. We don’t have room for maverick gung ho operations. Here, we keep each other informed about what is happening and we work together. No wonder you haven’t come up with anything.’
‘Actually, we’ve discovered quite a lot.’ Ludvig coughed and got up.
Kim really liked Ludvig Grønlie. He had exactly what it took to belong to the special unit. It was odd, really: several people had joined the unit only to leave soon afterwards because they just didn’t fit in. No one could quite put their finger on what it was. It was more than ability, age, background or specialism, it was also chemistry. A shared tacit understanding. This is what we do, and this is what we don’t do. He had met several talented colleagues who had joined them but never settled in. People who couldn’t stand the sight of Munch. Who thought that Mia Krüger was the most overrated investigator of her generation. Kim had worked with both Munch and Mia for a long time. And he couldn’t imagine doing any other job in the whole world.
Ludvig Grønlie gave Mikkelson a brief account about what they had discovered so far. Malin Stoltz. The flat filled with mirrors. The link between Høvikveien Care Home and a support group for childless women in Hønefoss. The Kiese movie, which, if Mikkelson had not insisted they all sat here like naughty children, would soon provide them with a location where Stoltz was holding Marion Munch.
‘Right, right,’ Mikkelson said, pushing his glasses back in place. ‘And where do we stand?’
‘Can I go now?’
It was Gabriel Mørk speaking. Kim Kolsø smiled discreetly to himself. He liked this young man. He had appeared out of nowhere and in no time become an important member of the team. A Munch special. Munch had brought in Mia Krüger in the same way. Rumour had it that she hadn’t even had to complete her training at Police College.
‘Why?’ Mikkelson said with a frown.
‘If Munch has gone to find the killer, it might be a good idea for us to know where that place is,’ Gabriel Mørk said. ‘We’re in the process of cleaning up the film. I have a mate who is brilliant at this. We’ll have the GPS coordinates soon. Perhaps it would be a better use of my time than sitting here.’
Kim laughed to himself. When he had first met Gabriel Mørk in the street, the young lad had looked as if he was afraid of his own shadow. Now it was as if he had been with the team from the start.
‘And who are you again?’ Mikkelson said, taking off his glasses.
‘Gabriel,’ Mørk replied.
‘How much police experience did you say you had?’
‘Two weeks,’ Mørk replied, deadpan.
‘I have twenty years,’ Mikkelson said, putting on his glasses again. ‘Perhaps I should be the judge of what we should be spending our time on, don’t you think?’
His attempt at sarcasm landed on stony ground. Kim could see Curry winking at Gabriel Mørk, who responded with a shrug of his shoulders.
‘Anette?’ Mikkelson said, seeking support.
‘Gabriel is right,’ Anette said, getting up. ‘The Kiese film is important and should be our number-one priority. If Munch has chosen to shut us out because Stoltz has given him an ultimatum, it
is understandable. He loves his granddaughter. I would have done exactly the same.’
Kim could see the colour change in Mikkelson’s face. If he had thought that Anette Goli was on his side, he had been very much mistaken. Curry winked at Kim and got a smile back in return.
‘I see,’ Mikkelson said, sounding wounded and flicking through some papers on the table in front of him. ‘So what do we do now?’
Kim Kolsø had turned off the alerts on his mobile, but he had forgotten to turn off the vibration. His mobile suddenly jumped on the table in front of him, displaying an unknown number.
‘Yes?’ Mikkelson said irritably, glaring at him.
‘I have to take this one,’ Kim said, getting up.
‘Really?’ Mikkelson said.
‘Yes,’ Kim insisted.
‘Then …’ Mikkelson said.
Kim left the room and didn’t hear what followed. He went to the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee as he spoke on his mobile.
‘Kim Kolsø speaking.’
The caller was a woman.
‘Yes, hi, my name is Emilie Isaksen.’
‘Right, hi. What can I do for you?’
Kim opened the fridge and found a carton of milk. If there was one thing he and Mia Krüger agreed about, it was that you risked your life drinking the stuff that came out of the coffee machine.
‘I found your business card inside a mattress,’ the woman said. ‘And I don’t know what to do. I’m hoping you might be able to help?’
‘I might well be. What do you need help with?’ Kim said, adding some milk to his coffee.
Chapter 74
Tobias passed the blanket to Rakel and turned off his torch. This made the safe room seem completely dark, but they had no other choice. They had to conserve the torch batteries and their eyes quickly adjusted. Tobias didn’t know for how long they had been held prisoners in the underground room, but he estimated four to five days. He had opened the hatch and peered inside. He had whispered the name Rakel, the name of the girl he had just met, the Christian girl behind the fence, the girl in need of help, when someone had come up behind him and pushed him down inside. He had felt frightened and stupid, and he had hurt himself. He had fallen a long way, past a ladder, into a black hole where he had ended up on a hard concrete floor. Fortunately, he hadn’t landed on his head or his arms but on his side, and he believed that the latter had cushioned his fall, because he wasn’t in too much pain, only a bit in one hip and in one leg.