by Rose, Willow
I looked at Jack and we started walking back in silence. As we reached my house, we looked at each other. "What a night, huh?" I said. "Do you want to come in and get a cup of coffee? I have a feeling none of us is getting anymore sleep tonight."
"I better go back to make sure my sister is alright. She wakes up several times at night. If I'm not there, she'll be scared."
"Of course. Me too. I mean my kids need me too. So … I guess … I'll see you then?" I said.
Jack nodded. I gave him a hug and watched him walk back to his house with his head slightly bent. He was a handsome guy, but just didn’t know it. I liked that about him. I had liked him for a long time, but with him, everything was just too complicated. He was taking care of his sister and that made it almost impossible for him to be in a relationship. It was like he had given up on the hope of ever having one.
I shrugged and walked inside. I poured myself a glass of milk and tried to fall asleep, but thoughts of the woman and her husband and their poor children kept me awake. Who had shot her? And how was it even possible for her to drive her car into the ocean? Was she trying to get help? Maybe she had managed to escape whoever hurt her somehow and then died behind the wheel driving into the ocean? I thought about Sophia and how sad she was going to be, losing one of her friends like this.
It was almost five in the morning before I finally fell asleep.
15
November 2013
Lisa took Margrethe on her hip and walked inside City Hall. The red brick building looked charming from the outside, but Lisa was disappointed to learn that the decor inside left a lot to be desired.
"Yet another thing I can help change," she chirped and walked towards the reception desk. The clerk behind the counter didn’t even look up when she approached him. She cleared her throat. He still didn’t look up from his book. She cleared her throat louder. Finally, he lifted his eyes and looked at her.
"Yes? What do you want?"
"What do I want?"
Doesn't he know who he is talking to? Another thing about to change once Mrs. Rasmussen takes over.
"Yes. What do you want?" He repeated, annoyed.
"Is that a way to address a person entering City Hall, the heart of the town?" Lisa asked.
He sighed. "I'm kind of busy. Could you please just tell me if there is anything I can help you with?"
Lisa smiled. "Now that's better. Young man, I'm here to sign up for the coming election."
"You're what?"
"I wish to be elected for City Council."
"You're a little late, lady," the young boy said. "The election is in two weeks."
"I know when the election takes place and I want to be in it. Now please just tell me where I sign up my name?"
The clerk shrugged. "Well I can put your name on the list. There aren't that many candidates, so I guess we could add another name. But I have to tell you, the last eight years there haven't been any replacements in the Council. They sit pretty heavily in their seats once they've gotten a hold of them."
"Well I guess that's about to change, then," Lisa said.
The clerk shrugged. "Suit yourself lady. I'm just telling you, it's a waste of time. The ones already sitting there are all up for reelection. So, unless one of them moves away or dies or something ..."
"Well that can be arranged."
"Excuse me?"
Lisa shook her head with a grin. "Nothing. I'm just joking around with you. Now where do I sign?"
The clerk passed a piece of paper to her on the counter. "Right here, here, and on the last page."
Lisa found her lucky pen in her purse and, while still holding Margrethe in her other arm, she signed the papers. "There you go. Now Mommy's all signed up."
She handed the papers back to the clerk. He looked at them. "Well you're all set to go. Good luck lady."
"Well thank you." Lisa looked at her baby and tickled her tummy. Margrethe whined in joy. "Mommy's gonna make a lot of changes in here, isn't she? You betcha. Yes she is."
"Don't get your hopes up too high," the clerk mumbled.
Lisa froze and looked at him. "What was that?"
He shook his head. "Nothing. I just said to not get your hopes too high up. I mean even if you did get elected, there really isn't much being changed around here. Everything pretty much stays the same."
"If I get elected? What is that supposed to mean?" Lisa asked very loudly. "I intend to get elected and then I'm gonna MAKE things happen around here. You HEAR me?"
The clerk stared at her with wide-open eyes, completely startled.
"Don't forget to blink," Lisa said with her most gentle smile and turned around. Just as she was about to leave City Hall, she turned and looked at him again.
"Take a good look at my face," she said. "You'll be seeing a lot more of it in the future."
16
October 2009
Ellen was crying again. Thomas was watching her through his binoculars while drinking a canned soda. She had been crying a lot lately and it hurt him so deeply to see her like this.
The handsome man entered the kitchen and they started arguing again. The kids were in the yard running after each other, screaming. Ellen was shaking her head and gesticulating. Thomas took another bite of his ham sandwich and drank more soda. It was the same day after day now. Them fighting, the kids crying and screaming.
Thomas shook his head. It was hard to see his beloved in this much distress. The husband was hardly ever home anymore and, when he was, they were constantly fighting. Thomas sighed and drank again. He wanted so badly to help Ellen out, but there was no way her husband could ever know about them. This was the way Ellen wanted it. She had to keep their relationship a secret because she had a family to think of. Thomas understood that. But he never stopped sending her flowers, even if he knew it was often the subject of their many discussions. And so were the letters. Thomas had found a new way of communicating with his beloved. While in her house when she was off at work, he would place notes and letters in her drawers and closets, sometimes just a post-it note on her clothes or the wall, telling her how deeply he loved her. He knew it was risky, but his beloved needed his encouragement. She needed to know she was loved.
Thomas watched the husband in the kitchen. He was standing by the door, obviously yelling at Ellen while she was sitting in a chair her hands folded in her lap. She was crying and it infuriated Thomas to see her like this. He clenched his fist.
If he ever hurts her, I swear to God I'm gonna …
The husband was gesticulating wildly and Ellen hid her face between her hands. Thomas restrained himself. He wanted so badly to just run over there and beat the crap out of him.
The bastard. He didn’t know how lucky he was to wake up to this woman every day.
But he couldn't know about them. The husband could never know. It would destroy everything. And, even if it was hard, Thomas respected Ellen's wish to keep their relationship a secret. He had to. Instead, he always kept an eye on Ellen to make sure she was safe. It was his job to protect her.
Thomas turned the binoculars to look at the children playing in the yard. The oldest, Frederik, was on the swings while the youngest, Gerda, was playing with a jump-rope. Thomas chuckled. How he adored those two munchkins. He often talked to them on the playground nearby where they came every afternoon with their nanny and, just as often, he had given them candy. Gerda was always so sweet and smiling, taking the candy willingly right away, while Frederik had been more reserved the first time. When Thomas had told them he knew their mother well, he had loosened up a little and taken the gummy bears. Thomas had really gotten close to them lately and started giving them new toys now and then, by simply placing them on their beds while in the house. The husband hadn't been too happy about Thomas' small gifts but Ellen loved them. Thomas knew she did. She would tell him in her own way. Through signals like pulling the curtains or by putting the newspaper on top of the trash can, so when he opened the lid to go through it, he would see a
n article where she had circled something. Ellen and Thomas had a love-language of their own and a way of communicating that no one else in the world would ever understand or know.
Thomas heard the husband yell and turned to look into the kitchen again. The handsome husband was still yelling and stomping his feet. Ellen was crying heavily now. Thomas inhaled deeply trying to calm himself down. Then he turned to look at the kids again only to realize that Gerda had managed to somehow climb the big tree in their yard and tied the jump-rope around a branch. Thomas gasped as he watched her jump and accidentally get the rope around her neck. With a shriek, he turned to look at Ellen and the husband who were still fighting, then back at the girl who was struggling with the rope around her neck, while Frederik was still on the swings, not seeing anything.
Thomas threw the binoculars on the floor and stormed out the door.
17
November 2013
Officer Morten Bredballe stopped by late in the afternoon the next day. The kids had just gotten home from school and had eaten their freshly baked buns. Victor had gone into the yard to play while Maya was upstairs doing her homework, at least I hoped she was.
I invited him inside the kitchen and poured him a cup of coffee.
He chuckled. "Do I look that bad, huh?"
"Well you look like you could use a cup. Let's just leave it at that," I said and poured myself a cup. He took my statement for the report. It didn't take long. When he was done, he asked for another cup of coffee. I poured him one and placed the basket of buns on the table.
"Want one?"
"Yes, please," he said with a sigh. "That would be great. It's been a long night and an even longer day. Can't remember when I last ate."
I cut one open and handed it to him. He buttered it and started eating it. "Mmm, these are really good," he moaned and sipped the coffee. "Thanks. I really needed this. This day has been hell. You have no idea."
"So, did you tell the family?"
Morten stopped chewing and nodded. "That was the worst part, Emma; I tell you, it was so hard."
"How did he take it?" I asked and buttered a bun for myself even if it was my fourth this afternoon.
"He was in deep shock, still is. He couldn't believe it and started blaming himself for not having looked for her yesterday. He kept saying that he had thought she was just punishing him for their fight and that she would be back. He had never imagined this happening to her."
"Does he need anything? I could cook for him and leave enough in the freezer for a couple of days so he wouldn't have to think about cooking?" I said.
"Someone already suggested doing the same, so I don't think there will be any need for that."
I nodded pensively and sipped my coffee. "Does he need something else maybe? Someone to take the kids for a while? I could easily have them here at the house for a couple of days, if he needed it. I mean there have to be a lot of things for him to do now, like arrange the funeral and all."
"I'll let him know. The funeral won't be for a while, though, since the forensic techs are working on her and the body won't be released for quite some time."
"No, of course not. What have they come up with so far?" I asked. "If you can talk about it, that is?"
"There is going to be a press conference later today where the details are all going to be revealed, so there is no harm in me telling you. She was shot several times just as we suspected. The forensic techs furthermore found animal bites on her body. Mostly on her shoulder, arm and back."
"Animal bites? What kind of animal?" I asked and finished my bun. I grabbed another one and buttered it. "More?" I asked officer Morten.
"Well one more, then. They're so good," he said with a smile.
"You need it more than I do," I said and pushed the butter towards him so he could reach it.
He buttered his bun and took a bite.
"So what kind of animal are we talking about? Do they even know at this point?" I asked.
Officer Morten leaned over and swallowed before he spoke. "That's the strange thing. It seems it’s bats. Bites from a bat all over her arm and back."
I almost spurted out my coffee. "Bats?" I asked, thinking about Victor who had been awake the other night because he claimed to have heard bats screaming.
"Yes, bats."
"But they eat insects, don't they?"
"Well yes, but apparently there are different kinds of bats. This type is called the vampire bat because it feeds on blood from mammals. They bite down through the skin and drink the blood that runs from the wound."
I suddenly lost my appetite and put the bun down. "Are you kidding me? Like real vampires?"
"That's where the myth started, I guess. Anyway, as you might understand, we are looking for anyone who might have bats as pets."
"Hm," I said.
"What?"
"Well my son Victor was awake the other night. He told me he had heard bats screaming. Maybe you're looking for someone not so far away from here?"
Officer Morten ate and nodded. "That sounds like something we might have to look into."
I nodded, thinking it freaked me out a little to think that this bat-loving killer could be anywhere close to us. But wouldn't we have heard the shots if he was anywhere close? I shook my head. "But again, it's Victor. It might have been a very vivid dream or one of his strange visions. As I've told you before, sometimes he sees and hears things the rest of us don't. Do you have any idea why the killer chose this girl?"
"No. It might be random. We believe she was taken at the parking lot where we found the car and the child. Tim told us she had felt like she had been watched for a couple of days before she disappeared, so the killer might have observed her for some time before taking her. There is a team from Copenhagen who has joined us in the investigation. They will be going over Simone's whereabouts for the past few days to see if the killer shows up on any surveillance cameras or if anyone has seen him."
"Sounds like the killer planned this," I said, finishing my bun after all. I sipped my coffee and looked at officer Morten. He looked exhausted. He wasn't the most handsome man, but there was something about him I really liked: A gentleness, a sweetness. And he was so simple. Divorced with a teenage daughter. That was all. We had grown very close on our trips to Eastern Europe together the past many months and I truly enjoyed his company. We never got around to having the date we discussed, there simply hadn't been time for it.
"But there is more," Officer Morten said.
"I had a feeling there would be," I said and finished my cup. I offered him more, but he refused.
"Have to get back soon," he said. Then he exhaled. "There has been another disappearance on the island."
I looked at him. "What?"
"We don't know if it is related, but this morning we were contacted by Nordby VVS, you know the plumbing company. They told us one of their young plumbers had vanished. They had sent him on the road to a couple of assignments yesterday but he never showed up. The truck was found parked downtown at a parking place behind the old movie theater, but there was no sign of the plumber. We have no idea if it is related; he might have just gone on a bender. He was known to be a drunk, but we have to treat it as though it is related."
"Of course you do."
Officer Morten got up from his chair with a sigh. "Well I'd better get going. I have to finish my report before I can finally go home and have a few hours of sleep."
I escorted him out. I opened the door and held it for him while he put on his jacket. He was about to walk out, when he suddenly hesitated. I looked at him. He looked up and our eyes locked for a few seconds. Then he leaned forward and grabbed me in his arms and hugged me. I was taken completely by surprise by this gesture, but enjoyed it. He held me tight for a few seconds more, then whispered in my ear, "I really like you Emma. I hate that we only see each other when bad things happen. I want to make good memories with you."
I was startled. Speechless. "I … uh … Well …"
He loo
ked into my eyes. "I have baffled you, haven't I?"
"Slightly … but not in a bad way," I said. "I like being baffled."
Officer Morten chuckled. "Life is short, you know?"
I smiled. "Life is short and one should be baffled every now and then."
Officer Morten nodded and put on his police-cap. "I'll pick you up tomorrow night then. Would around seven be alright?"
18
November 2013
Susanne Arnholm was breastfeeding. Her nipples were sore and had been for weeks now. Mastitis, inflammation of the breast tissue, her doctor had said. He gave her some antibiotics and told her that it might be time to stop breastfeeding. But Susanne didn't want to. She loved breastfeeding her baby Malthe. With her first child, Christine, she had breastfed until the child was almost four years old. She would have continued, but had to stop since she was almost due with Malthe and he was going to take over.
Susanne closed her eyes while Malthe sucked on her sore nipples. They were red and swollen and Susanne had a slight fever because of the infection. Still, she continued through the pain … For the child's sake. Everybody knew breast milk was by far the best for your child. No other milk contained the combination of nutrients that your child needed like your own milk.
She looked down at Malthe who sucked contentedly. As she looked up at her friends at the table, she received a couple of disapproving looks from other guests in the café, but Susanne didn't care. She was used to people staring, even if she never understood why anyone would be appalled by someone breastfeeding. It was, after all, the most natural thing in the world. The other girls in her mothers’ group all went aside or hid the baby and breast under a blanket like they were ashamed of breastfeeding in public. It had gotten worse in the last six months, ever since some restaurants and cafés had thrown women out for breastfeeding in public. It had led to a demonstration in Copenhagen that Susanne had taken part in. She hated the way it was now something you had to hide or be ashamed of. So, Susanne went in the opposite direction. She hid nothing from anyone. She didn't cover up with a blanket. When her nine-month-old baby was hungry, she simply pulled up her shirt and started feeding him, no matter where she was. If people stared at her bare breast, then she let them. If people were appalled, then she let them be. If she was asked to leave by a waiter, she told them she wouldn't and that they'd have to call the police if they wanted to throw her out. And then she threatened to write bad things about the place on Facebook telling everybody that they were against women breastfeeding; that usually shut them up since most cafés lived very well off of the many mothers’ groups that came in for brunch.