You're Mine Now

by Koppel, Hans

  ‘Maybe I should call back?’

  And why on earth should she ask her husband’s advice on something so trivial, which in fact had nothing to do with him?

  ‘Weren’t they going to go to the theatre?’ Magnus asked.

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘It’s what they normally do,’ Magnus said. ‘Did she leave a message?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Well then.’

  To be so submissive, to consult her husband. It was so unlike Anna.

  ‘Can I have the mobile?’ Hedda asked, impatiently.

  ‘Yes, yes, of course.’

  Anna handed it to her.

  ‘But only for a while.’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘After all, it’s actually the magazine’s phone.’

  Hedda went back into her room and Anna had no choice other than to return to her husband on the sofa. She stared into thin air. The mobile was an undetonated bomb that threatened to blow her family to pieces at any moment.

  ‘Why’s it suddenly so important?’ Magnus wondered.

  ‘What?’ Anne said, evasively.

  ‘Your mobile.’

  ‘Well, she changes all the settings and mucks about with it. I don’t like it. And if it were to break…’

  Magnus let out a weary sigh.

  40

  Erik slept well, despite having a sore back after all those hours stooped over the bath. When he woke up it was broad daylight outside. He stretched, blinked his way into the present, looked at the clock and realised that it was nearly lunchtime.

  He tried to think logically, go through the remaining details. He would have to scrub the bathroom with chlorine, get rid of Kathrine’s clothes and handbag, as well as the bloody towel that he’d used to dry the body parts with. None of it was such a big deal; in fact, compared to yesterday, they were relatively easy tasks.

  He was assailed by a wave of emptiness, an overwhelming emotional understanding that there was no meaning to anything. He could barely move, he just lay there on the mattress and stared at the wall.

  It wasn’t the things he was forced to do under the rather unfortunate circumstances, they didn’t matter. Kathrine had been a challenge he’d had to face, and he’d won. No, what made him almost stop breathing was the realisation that it didn’t matter. The outcome of all his efforts would be as good as nothing. Kathrine’s disappearance would, if anything, bring Magnus and Anna closer together. At least temporarily.

  On the other hand, Erik was suddenly full of hope: it wasn’t Kathrine who kept them together. The only thing that bound Anna to her boring husband was their daughter. Kathrine’s disappearance might remind Anna of her own mortality, make her mature, in the sense that she would understand that life is short. Because it was. The days raced by at high speed and life wouldn’t go on for ever. Anna couldn’t keep lying to herself.

  Erik got up from the mattress, felt much happier. He went over to the window and looked out to see what was going on down on the street. Not much. The moment rush hour was over, the traffic flow was so meagre that no more than four cars gathered at one time for the red light by Stadsteatern.

  He might as well get started with what he still had to do. He went out into the bathroom, rinsed the clothes and towel clean of blood, wrung them out and put them into several plastic bags. He scrubbed the walls and sink, the toilet and floor. First with Ajax and a scrubbing brush, then again with chlorine. The bath sparkled white, except for a few chips in the enamel from the meat cleaver when he’d got the angle wrong.

  Erik had a long, hot shower.

  Who might know that Kathrine had come to see him? he asked himself. Not Anna, judging by the text message. Kathrine had looked him up on her own initiative, out of her concern for her daughter. When Erik asked her how she had got hold of the entry code, she said that a man had let her in, a man on his way out. Erik tried to visualise his neighbours. It took a few seconds before he realised that it probably wasn’t one of his neighbours, but the policeman, that fat, stupid local guy who Anna had pumped full of lies, the pompous loser who’d had the cheek to try to frighten Erik in his own home.

  That made things more complicated. But no more so than that he would have to be open and honest about Kathrine having come to see him. She had been there and then left, that’s what he’d say. Which would be confirmed by the location of her mobile phone.

  Erik got out of the shower, dried himself and dressed. He was on his way out when he caught sight of the bowls and the blender. He’d washed the parts carefully, but decided to bin them all the same. Maybe he was chicken.

  He glanced quickly around his newly scrubbed flat, picked up the bags and went out.

  41

  Well rested, happy and ready for work. Almost a bit horny, now that she thought about it. Maybe Anna would surprise her husband this evening. He deserved it.

  She had worked efficiently all morning, cleared all the things pending from her desk, written half a dozen photo captions for a feature that was set and ready, gone through all the mail in her intray and booked two photo shoots.

  Her phone rang and she lifted the receiver without a moment’s hesitation.

  ‘Anna.’

  ‘Hello, it’s Ditte.’

  ‘Hi, Ditte. How are you? Has Mum left?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  It took a while to sort things out. Kathrine hadn’t been to visit Ditte. Nor had there been any agreement that she would.

  ‘Where has she been then?’ Anna wondered.

  ‘Has she met a man?’ Ditte asked, delighted.

  ‘I don’t think so. She would never have kept that secret.’

  ‘Well, could you maybe ask her to phone me when she has the time?’

  ‘Yes, of course. I will. Bye.’

  Anna put down the receiver and stared straight ahead. Had her mother wanted to surprise Ditte with a spontaneous visit? Could something have happened to her on the way? She dialled her mother’s number again. After the fourth ring, it switched to voicemail.

  ‘Ditte called,’ Anna said. ‘Where are you? Has something happened? Please give me a ring.’

  Trude saw the worry in her face.

  ‘When did you last hear from her?’

  ‘Yesterday,’ Anna told her. ‘She sent me a text to say she was going to visit a friend in Denmark. But she’s not there and her friend says that they hadn’t arranged anything.’

  ‘Oops,’ Sissela joined in and raised her eyebrows in the usual manner.

  The most likely explanation was that Kathrine had met a man, which was what Ditte had suggested, but Anna didn’t appreciate them questioning her disquiet. Especially not Sissela, who just wanted attention.

  Anna rang the hospital in Helsingborg. No Kathrine Hansson had been admitted. The main hospital in Copenhagen gave the same answer. They were even kind enough to check the central register. No, no Swedish woman of that name had been admitted.

  She got up and put on her coat.

  ‘Maybe it’s best if I pop over to her flat. Check that nothing’s happened.’

  ‘Take my car,’ Trude said, and threw her the key.

  Anna caught it.

  ‘Thank you.’

  Anna rang the bell and listened for any movement. She stood there with the key at the ready, but didn’t want to just barge in. No steps to be heard on the other side, so she opened the door.

  ‘Mum?’

  She closed it behind her. The morning papers were lying on the floor.

  Anna walked through the flat. The kitchen, bathroom, knocked tentatively on the closed bedroom door.

  If her mother was lying in there with a man, it was only fair that she should give her a chance to say something first. Those self-chosen snatched moments, Anna thought to herself. As a teenager, lying there touching each other with the constant fear of being discovered by well-meaning but curious parents. Now her mother was in the same embarrassing situation. Anna could hear her own excuses already: I was worried. You know that
I don’t begrudge you the company, I was just worried that something had happened because you weren’t answering your phone…

  Maybe he was married. Which was why Kathrine didn’t want to burden her daughter with her secret.

  Anna opened the door to the bedroom and poked her head round. The bed was empty and tidily made. If her mother had met someone she was at his place. Anna got out her phone and tried again. And again the call went to voicemail after four rings. She couldn’t face leaving another message.

  She found a pen in the cupboard over the sink and used one of the Asian takeaway menus that was attached to the fridge with a magnet.

  Hi Mum, she wrote on the back, where are you? Getting a bit worried. Please call me as soon as you see this. Kisses from Anna.

  She drove back to the office with a nagging doubt. She spoke to her mother almost every day. Why would she suddenly be so secretive?

  42

  They bloody well needed security on the northside with all those posh people. Kent only had to turn his back and they were out there filling the skip with their fucking furniture and stuff. He had a mind to haul out the sofa and desk and wooden chairs and bin liners and leave it all on the pavement. Because they’d certainly kick up a fuss then.

  Why couldn’t they hire a trailer and take their rubbish to the tip themselves? That’s what they did on the southside. Big difference from the north. Weird bunch of people. Probably why they were so rich, never paid for anything themselves. Fucking tax dodgers, the lot of them.

  He got out his mobile and phoned.

  ‘Hiya, Kent here. Just wondered if you could maybe come and pick up the skip you delivered yesterday… Yep, it’s full already… No, you can just dump it all in the incinerator… And I’d like a new one, please. With security cameras and electric fencing. Not before tomorrow? Okey-dokes, at least I know. Thanks.’

  A passer-by craned his neck to see if there was anything of interest in the skip. Kent glared at him and the young man scurried on.

  Fuck, if they weren’t putting their shit in, they were looking to see what they could take out.

  Like rats they were, Kent mused, no better.

  ‘Have you still not heard anything?’

  Anna shook her head. Magnus pulled his chin in.

  ‘Strange. And she said she was going to see Ditte?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Could she be with anyone else?’

  ‘No, I’ve phoned everyone.’

  ‘Do you think something’s happened?’

  ‘I’ve called the hospitals. And the newspaper was on the floor, so she wasn’t home last night.’

  ‘Hmmm,’ Magnus insinuated.

  Anna half-smiled.

  ‘I just don’t understand why she’d keep it a secret.’

  It was almost a pleasure to focus on the mystery. It was the first time in weeks she was on the same wavelength as her husband and could tell him what was on her mind.

  ‘Has she been internet dating?’ Magnus asked.

  ‘Not that I know of…’

  ‘But?’

  ‘It wouldn’t surprise me.’

  ‘So long not as she’s not met some nutter.’

  Anna gave her husband an anxious look.

  ‘Don’t say that,’ she said. ‘Why would she meet anyone like that?’

  Magnus shrugged.

  ‘There’s a lot of strange people out there, that’s all.’

  ‘Stop. Can’t you see you’re making me nervous?’

  Anna turned away. Magnus reached out.

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘What time is it?’ Anna said, and looked at her watch. Quarter past five. ‘I think I’m going to go to the police. Just to be sure. She’s been gone more than twenty-four hours now.’

  ‘Isn’t that a bit extreme?’

  ‘Maybe, but I don’t care. You stay here until Hedda gets home.’

  Karlsson lounged on his swivel chair and played with a ballpoint pen. Had he made a mistake, big-hearted and generous as he was? It was certainly starting to look like it. The woman who had said she was being stalked by the young film enthusiast was back at the station with another problem. This time it was her mother who had disappeared.

  Karlsson was beginning to get the picture: a lonely woman who needed attention. He would have her here constantly if he didn’t say something sharpish.

  ‘My mother…’ Anna started.

  ‘Your mother,’ Karlsson repeated, and felt vaguely guilty when he thought of the young man he’d almost scared to death yesterday morning.

  ‘… she’s disappeared.’

  ‘Disappeared,’ Karlsson said, and comforted himself with the fact that a bloke who made his own porn on the sly was perhaps not someone you would call normal.

  ‘She said that she was going to visit a friend in Denmark, but she never went.’

  ‘Oh, so she didn’t go, no.’

  ‘No, and the newspaper was lying on the floor, so she obviously hadn’t been home last night. And I’ve phoned round all the hospitals here and in Denmark.’

  ‘There you go. And Bergman?’

  Anna looked at him blankly.

  ‘Your film director,’ the detective inspector explained, and thought to himself that perhaps they were both mad.

  Birds of a feather and peas in a pod and all that.

  ‘I’m so grateful I haven’t heard anything from him. But this is about my mother.’

  ‘So you said.’

  ‘She’s not answering the phone.’

  ‘Really?’ Karlsson nodded.

  ‘Mum always answers when I ring,’ Anna insisted. ‘And if she can’t answer right away, she calls me back.’

  ‘That kind of mother.’

  Anna sent him a puzzled look.

  ‘Do you think I’m making this up to get attention?’

  Karlsson stopped playing with the pen, sat upright and grabbed hold of the edge of the desk. Without lifting his posterior, he pulled himself towards the desk.

  He woke the computer to life and put on his glasses.

  ‘Name, address and ID number,’ he said.

  Anna gave him the information and he typed them into the computer with his index fingers. Every tap on the keyboard followed by an inspection of the screen. It took a while, but he got there in the end.

  ‘Is she senile?’

  ‘Why would she be?’

  ‘Lots of old people who disappear are senile.’

  ‘My mother is clear as a bell. Have you not been listening? Something has happened. Could you perhaps try to locate her mobile phone?’

  ‘Do you know how helpful it actually is trying to position a phone in a city?’

  ‘No, how would I know that? And Helsingborg is hardly a city.’

  ‘Whatever – it’s no help at all. We get an angle from one of the masts, plus or minus thirty degrees, at a distance of up to two kilometres. So we’re talking about quite a wedge of cake. Seventy-five per cent of all senile people are found within a radius of —’

  ‘My mother is not senile.’

  Karlsson wasn’t listening.

  ‘Everything outside that radius is called The Rest of the World. We use an American system, MSO, management search system. We nearly always send the dogs in first. If that doesn’t work, then we might do a group mailing to all the newspaper delivery folks, and security firms and other people who are out and about. In that way, we get help from the local community, you see. Positioning is just a waste of resources, really.’

  43

  ‘Is Granny missing?’ Hedda asked.

  She was standing by the sink, eating an orange.

  ‘No, no, of course she’s not,’ Anna said, sending Magnus an irritated glance because he hadn’t been able to keep his mouth shut, as they’d agreed. ‘We just haven’t heard from her. Obviously she’s somewhere.’

  ‘Why don’t you check her phone?’ Hedda suggested.

  ‘She’s not answering. I’ve phoned her several times.’

  �
�On the computer, I mean. She’s got one of those apps. If you lose your phone or it’s stolen, you can just check on the computer where it is.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  Hedda groaned because her mother was so slow. She rinsed her hands, then went to get her computer. She typed in a website address, while Anna and Magnus looked on, impressed.

  ‘What’s her number?’

  Anna rattled it off and Hedda’s fingers danced over the keyboard.

  ‘The password is you and me, Mum.’

  ‘Does no one use Magnus?’ Magnus bleated.

  ‘Mine is “poo”,’ Anna informed them.

  ‘Not good,’ Hedda said. ‘Loads of people have that.’

  She pointed at the screen. A blue flashing bubble appeared on the map. Anna looked at Magnus.

  ‘What on earth is she doing there?’

  The mobile phone was somewhere outside Ikea at Väla shopping centre. It hadn’t moved at all. The blue bubble was still in exactly the same position. Anna was holding the computer.

  ‘It must be in one of the cars,’ she said. ‘Hedda, you stay here. If the bubble moves, let us know.’

  Her daughter nodded obligingly.

  Anna and Magnus got out of the car. They looked around uncertainly before starting to walk between the cars and peer in through the windows.

  A father came out of Ikea. He was pushing an overfull trolley while his five-year-old son was eating a hotdog. The father stopped, let go of the shopping trolley and pulled a serviette out of his jacket pocket. He wet it with his tongue.

  ‘Don’t you feel sticky?’ he said, in irritation. ‘Come here, let me…’

  He wiped around the boy’s mouth.

  ‘Please try to get it in your mouth, not just on your cheeks.’

  He threw the serviette into a rubbish bin and carried on towards his car, loaded his purchases into the back and strapped his son into the back seat.

  ‘Don’t drop anything now.’

  Anna turned back to her daughter with a questioning look as the car drove away. Anna shook her head. The blue bubble was still there.