– I’ll give you something that’ll help you sleep. When you wake up, the cuffs will be unlocked. I’ll give you a chance. I’m not a monster.
– A chance?
Norbakk played the light in an arc around the cellar. The room was almost big enough for him to stand upright in. It was partitioned by a gate.
– You ought to be curious about this place, Glenne. Your father must have been here many times when he was with the Resistance. My grandfather helped him escape. It was just before he was caught himself. I can well imagine they were friends. They had a transmitter here. Even a printing press. But no prisoners. That came later. Long after the war. It was my father who put that partition in.
He shone the light into a corner. A huge dark hulk lay there. It was breathing slowly and deeply.
– What the hell is that?
– Not so loud, Glenne, unless you want to wake him up.
Norbakk played the torch back and forth over the sleeping shape a few times.
– Not too hard to trap one of these when you know how they live. And where. How they react when you put out bait for them and cover it up with branches and soil. All you have to do then is lie there and wait. But a giant like this one, I would never have managed to get him here all on my own … You should meet my brother, Glenne.
Axel’s eyes were wide open. He couldn’t believe what they were seeing.
– It’s had the same medicine as you’re going to get. It’ll sleep for a while yet. And now you’re going to sleep. In an hour’s time, when you wake up, you’ll be in there, with the animal.
He leaned forward and pushed the syringe into Axel’s upper arm.
– What’s the matter, Glenne? Don’t you like teddy bears?
67
ONCE MORE THE darkness had coiled itself around him. He lay and swam in it. Felt far away, drugged. I found you, Axel. Somewhere up there he sees her face. Miriam, he says. Do you regret it, Axel? No, you were the one I was looking for. Was always looking for. She smiles down at him. I want you to live. With one finger she closes his eyes. A crowd of people come up the hill, in through the door. They’re carrying candles. They gather round and look at him lying there. Daniel leans forward and lays a flower on his chest. A rose. Tom is crying. His whole face is open wide. I tried to be good enough, Tom. Tried to get close to you. Bie is wearing a little black hat with a veil across her face. She’s holding Marlen close to her. Her eyes are hard and dark blue, resembling a certain kind of jewel, the name of which escapes him.
He sat up abruptly. The cuffs dangled loose from one wrist, his hands were free. The stench was as powerful as before. He picked up another smell too. Wetter, stronger. Blowing in a steady rhythmic stream against his face. Each time accompanied by a small gurgling sound. He was sitting with his back against the partition. Locked in, he thought in panic. With the animal. He fumbled around, touched something, picked it up and gripped it to see if it could be used as a weapon. Dropped it again as soon as he recognised what it was. The remains of a leg and a foot.
– Norbakk, he shouted as he got to his feet, tearing at the gate.
In the corner to his left, a rustling sound. Something happening in that furry pile. An animal, waking up. He backed away as far as he could. The trapdoor opened, light spread across the ceiling and down to where he stood. Then Norbakk was climbing down.
– Slept well, Glenne?
The voice was bright and cheerful.
– Now I realise you mean what you say, Axel shouted. – Open this bloody gate, the animal’s waking up.
– That’s right, Norbakk whispered. – He’s waking up. Now we’ll see, right?
He shone his torch on the pile of fur lying by the wall. Two black eyes visible.
– The big fella hasn’t suffered down here. I believe in treating animals well. But he hasn’t really had all that much to eat. The first two I had down here, I let him scratch them a bit and then doped him again. The last one had to sacrifice her legs. So now he’s had a little taste, no wonder he wants more. It’ll soon be time for him to go into hibernation.
He hung the torch from a hook in the ceiling, turned it so that most of the cellar was illuminated.
– Need enough light for us to see what’s going on.
He lowered his voice.
– Usually these beasts are pretty groggy when they come round after sedation, but not this one. He’s mean and keen. Probably scared, too, just like you.
Axel grabbed hold of the padlock and rattled it.
– What do you want? Tell me what you want me to do. Is there anything you want?
Norbakk reached up through the trapdoor, picked up something from the floor of the room above.
– That’s what’s so fucking awful, Glenne. You’ve got nothing I want. Not any more. You’ve got money, but I’m not interested in that. And you’ve got a cute, hot wife. Spent a whole evening getting it on with her.
Axel heard him grin.
– Met her at Smuget. She picked the winning number that night all right. She might’ve ended up here too, but she’s the wrong age. The god of chance held his protecting hand over her.
He walked over to the gate, pointed a video camera at Axel.
– Tell me what it was like, he said. – Tell me what it was like screwing Miriam, then I’ll tell you what your wife was like.
– Jesus, Axel shouted, struggling with the free end of the handcuffs.
– Tell me, then I’ll let you out. Did she get you to do the same things as me?
He held the camera up into Axel’s face.
– I always did like you, Axel, he murmured, putting his hand through the bars, squeezing his arm. – I would love to hear you describe …
With a jerk Axel had the cuff fastened around his wrist.
– Axel, now that really wasn’t very clever. Norbakk’s voice was lower. – Not very clever at all.
A growling noise came from the corner, the sound of claws against the stone floor. Norbakk tried to pull his arm free, but Axel leaned forward with all his weight.
– Okay, shouted Norbakk. – I’ll unlock the gate. Then you can let go of my fucking arm.
He fumbled with the padlock. Lost his camera on the floor. Axel heard the padlock being opened, removed. At that moment there was a rattling sound as the animal approached through the half-dark. He felt its breath hit him, the smell of its guts. He pulled himself round, dragging Norbakk’s arm with him. The rattle turned into a roar in the animal’s throat, and then it opened its jaws.
Norbakk screamed. The animal had taken hold of his arm and was jerking its head from side to side, its eyes bloodshot and bulging. Axel tried to hold on to the gate but was dragged away. With a ripping sound, Norbakk’s arm was torn off. The great jaws let go their hold, the animal lifted its head, lowered it again, raised its snout. Axel managed to half turn away. Pain ripped up through his skull, down across his face. The iron gate flew open. He was hurled backwards, and tumbled to the floor outside. As though through water he heard Norbakk’s screaming close to his ear. A hand grabbed him by the hair; he drove his elbow backwards and hit something soft that gave way. He rolled over and managed to catch hold of the ladder, climbed up one step, then another, dragged himself up on to the floor of the room above, crawled away from the opening. He felt as though half his face had been burnt away. He could see, but only through one eye. Beneath him Norbakk’s screaming ended abruptly.
Axel hobbled over to the bedroom door. Still locked.
– Miriam, are you there?
He turned and ran for the front door. The sounds he could hear coming from the cellar were unendurable.
It was dark outside. A thin white layer of snow on the ground. Light from a half-moon shining through the trees. He made his way round the side of the cabin. Which window? he thought feverishly. Which window? He stopped at the first one. Something was dangling from his wrist. The stub of an arm still held in the cuffs. It wasn’t his. He grabbed hold of it and smashed it against the window
, took hold of the hasp and opened it. Didn’t notice that he cut himself as he hoisted himself inside and tumbled down on to the floor.
In the pale moonlight he saw the outline of her head against the pillow, the hair flowing around it.
– Miriam …
He took a step towards the bed. Moving through a smell he refused to breathe in. Still saying her name. As though it could drive that smell away, out of that dark room. He pulled the blanket off. Couldn’t see what the body lying there looked like. But he could no longer will away the stench and he staggered backwards and dived out through the window. Lay trembling on the ground. When he looked up, he saw the animal appearing round the corner of the cabin. He dragged himself to his feet. Stand still, Axel, don’t run. You mustn’t run now. The beast raised itself on its hind legs. Turned its head and looked sideways into his eyes.
He yelled. Everything inside him went into that yell. He howled himself empty, screaming into the bear’s face. It stayed up on its hind legs for a few seconds, about as tall as he was. Then it lowered its upper body, took a few paces backwards, raised its snout and sniffed the air. At last it turned, and with a growling noise sidled away towards the forest, where the moon was slowly disappearing behind the tallest trees.
Sitting in the car, he came to his senses again. The key was in the ignition. He started the engine and let the car trundle down on to the forest track. Hoarse noises were still escaping from his throat, coming in bursts, he didn’t know where from, or how to stop them. The car moved slowly down the track in first gear. Sergeant Norbakk’s arm still dangled across his lap.
Round a bend a figure approached into the beams of the headlights. Axel braked. He still couldn’t see out of his right eye. The figure leaned across the bonnet and stared in through the windscreen. A broad distorted face with slanting eyes and open mouth, shouting at him.
He pressed the horn down hard.
– Catch bear, the man seemed to be saying. – Oswald catch bear.
Axel put his foot down. The huge body slid off the bonnet and down into the ditch. In the rear-view mirror he saw it climb back up on to the track and continue on up the hill behind him.
68
QUARTER OF AN hour to closing time. The young man behind the counter at the Esso station in Åmoen had made a start on cashing up for the day. Everything seemed to be in order. At least half an hour since the last customer. Someone he knew, the old woman who’d been his teacher back in primary school. Couldn’t sell her a drop of petrol; all she wanted was a newspaper and some sweets. But what Signy Bruseter really wanted was a natter. As usual she asked a load of questions about what he was up to, what his plans were for the future, all that kind of stuff. And she wanted to tell someone about what had happened at the place where she worked, one of the inmates who’d run off. Signy’s nattering could drive you nuts. He imagined himself picking up the biggest pair of pliers in the place and smashing them over her head; that would get him a bit of peace. Instead he told her there was something he had to do out in the workshop, and in the end she’d gone.
He leaned up against the door to the back room and watched the TV screen hanging up on the wall in there. Jackie Chan’s face grinning down at him. He’d seen the film before and knew there was a good bit coming up soon. He tossed a hamburger into the microwave. Thought about eating it before he left but then decided to take it home. Enjoy it in peace and quiet with another film. He took it out and stuck it into a plastic bag along with the local paper and a Red Bull.
Just then a car turned on to the forecourt. Looked like a Nissan Micra in the colour they called Old Lady’s White. It rolled past the pumps and came to a halt. A guy tumbled out on the driver’s side and came staggering over towards the door, opened it and stood swaying in the entrance. It was a sight the young man behind the counter would never forget as long as he lived. A big man with half his face torn away, from the hairline down. Something that must have been an eye dangled against his cheek. His light jacket was drenched in blood. He supported himself against the newspaper rack, seemed to be trying to say something, but the sounds that came from the bloodied mouth were incomprehensible. Then he raised his arm. Something was dangling from it, attached by a handcuff. Something that looked like a hand with a bit of the lower arm.
The lad backed away into the room behind him, slammed the door shut and turned the key in the lock. With trembling hands he took his mobile phone from his top pocket and punched in the emergency number.
69
Saturday 27 October
AT 1.10 A.M., ARMED police mounted an operation in Åsnes county in Hedmark. Members of the Emergency Response Unit went into action, surrounding a cabin in the forest north of Åmoen owned by Sergeant Arve Norbakk of the Oslo City Police. Snipers were put on alert and a dog team was also on the scene.
The door and the windows on two of the walls were wide open. Through a megaphone the operational leader ordered everyone inside the cabin to come out immediately. There was no reaction, nor was there when the command was repeated. At 2.23 the cabin was bathed in light from mobile floodlights and a combined assault was mounted on three fronts. The first man through the door shouted a warning; again there was no answer.
– I’m hearing sounds, he reported through his radio headset. – Like a child whimpering.
They were given the go-ahead and went in. The smell of rotting meat hit them. The front room was empty. The kitchen too, and one of the bedrooms. Another door was locked and secured. An open trapdoor was found. Obviously where the sounds were coming from. One of the three officers who had entered the premises got down on the floor and wriggled his way over to it. The stench here was even stronger. From the ceiling below him a torch shed a faint light on what lay beneath. It struck him that the cellar was much larger than it appeared to be from the outside. A metal gate divided the room in two. He leaned further forward, shone his own torch around. In one corner, behind the ladder leading down, sat a bent form with its back to him. Now it turned towards the light. The sergeant stared down into the pale, wide face. It looked as though tears were falling from the slanting eyes. The man sat cradling something in his arms. It looked to be about the size of a doll. Behind him lay the twisted shape of a human body.
– What are you doing down there?
He got no answer. One of the others joined him.
– I’ll go down. The guy’s mentally retarded. Looks like there’s someone else there too. Probably not conscious.
He jumped down into the semi-darkness, pistol in one hand, torch in the other.
– You can’t sit there like that, he said. – What’s that you’ve got there?
He shone his torch on the thing the man was holding in his arms. At first he couldn’t tell what it was. Then abruptly he staggered back and supported himself against the ladder. The light from the torch was shining directly on to the face of a severed head.
At 4.15, the remains of the two bodies were carried outside and placed in the clearing in front of the cabin. A pile of excrement was found by one of the cellar walls. The wildlife expert was in no doubt about the kind of animal it came from, and tracks found in and around the cabin confirmed this. Along with the injuries sustained by the two bodies, this seemed a clear indication of the cause of death. As soon as it was light enough, four teams of hunters were sent out into the forest. It would take three days before they managed to track down the bear they believed to be the one that had been kept in the cellar beneath the cabin. It was shot and dissected. In its stomach the hunters found partially digested remains that they were immediately able to identify as human.
At 12.00, a press conference was held in a fifth-floor meeting room at Oslo police station. The room was packed with journalists, over a third of them from foreign media. Representing the police were the Chief Constable, the Deputy Chief Constable and the Assistant Chief Constable, as well as the head of the Violent Crimes unit, Superintendent Agnes Finckenhagen, who briefed the gathering on the so-called bear murders. She ann
ounced that the case could now be considered solved, and assured members of the press that they would be kept up to date on any further developments. She also asked for their understanding on this difficult day. It was an appalling tragedy for the victims and their families, and one in which the Oslo police too had suffered.
As soon as questions were invited, all hell broke loose in the room, and it took some time for things to calm down enough for the questions to be heard. Finckenhagen sat there pale and drawn, the make-up cracking around her eyes, and struggled to control her voice. It was obvious that many of the journalists had been unable to take on board the extraordinary details that had emerged from the briefing, and the questions they asked were relatively straightforward to answer. VG, on the other hand, seemed to be particularly well informed. The female reporter immediately asked about Sergeant Arve Norbakk, his role in the investigation, and his relationship to one of the murdered women.
– When a serial killer involved in the investigation of his own crimes has clearly influenced the direction of that investigation, what are the consequences for the police? she added.
Finckenhagen was taken completely by surprise. She had expressed herself in very general terms about an employee in the Oslo city police force. She turned to the Chief Constable, and in his eyes thought she could see what the ultimate consequences of this question would be. She felt dizzy.
– There will be a full inquiry into personnel and leadership routines, she heard him reply. – Obviously it’s much too early to say what the results of that inquiry will be. We can however confirm that things have happened here that should not have happened in the matter of employment practices and follow-up routines.
Detective Chief Inspector Hans Magnus Viken and the rest of the team followed the press conference on the screen in the meeting room. Nina Jebsen sat leaning forward, chewing away intensely at something, while Sigge Helgarsson tipped his chair back against the wall and lounged there, a bemused smirk on his face.
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