by Thomas Enger
‘It’s Patrik Hellberg on board La Dolce Vita. We’ve run aground on rocks not far from Fulehuk, I’m not sure of the exact position. But she’s taking in water already. It’ll only be a matter of minutes before she sinks.’
‘You have to put on a life jacket,’ Patrik said, when he’d cut the cable ties from around her hands and properly pulled away the gag.
Nora looked around. She could see land straight ahead. But it was some way off; she’d never manage to swim that far.
‘Put it on,’ he repeated. ‘Now.’
The life jacket he’d thrown at her was lying at her feet.
‘You need to put yours on, too,’ she said.
‘Yes, I know,’ he replied. ‘I will.’
Nora realised the boat was sinking. It was like being in a lift that was going down very slowly.
She thought about the child she was carrying; about Iver, Henning, her parents, her sister; she thought about salty liquorice and sushi and all the things she loved to eat. About sand between her toes. And about Jonas. She had to fight back the tears.
She did as Patrik said and put on the life jacket, tying it tight around her chest and waist. The water was still rising and soon her feet were wet, and then so were her ankles. It was so cold, so icy cold – it felt like it was biting. Her trousers soaked up the wetness, stuck to her skin, and she breathed in and out fast and hard as the water continued to come in.
‘You have to jump,’ Patrik shouted.
She stared at him in disbelief, but it was only a matter of seconds now. She clambered up onto the roof of the boat, and saw there was not much more than a metre left of the boat above water.
Nora looked at him for a long moment. He was putting on his life jacket, but hadn’t tied it properly yet. The water was up to his knees and soon it would be difficult to jump at all.
She turned round, staring at the great blackness in front of her. She really didn’t want to do this; it was the last thing in the world she wanted to do. But she had to.
She gathered her strength. And jumped.
60
Neither Henning nor Iver said anything in the car as they drove back to Tønsberg. Henning stayed within the speed limit; he didn’t see any point in racing. It wouldn’t help. He had his mobile phone between his legs so he’d feel it if it started to ring.
‘Fuck, I hate this,’ Iver said.
Only a few days ago, Henning had thought he didn’t need anyone, that he would never love again; that he didn’t care about anything. But he wasn’t made that way. And if he lost Nora now, without…
His phone started vibrating. It was Løken.
‘Hello?’ Henning said. His voice was shaking.
‘Patrik called the lifeboat station’s emergency number a couple of minutes ago,’ the policeman told him. ‘They’ve run aground on some rocks.’
‘Are they alright?’ Henning asked.
Løken didn’t answer straightaway.
‘No, I don’t think so,’ he said after a pause. ‘The boat has disappeared from the radar.’
Nora tried to breathe, but couldn’t. And she couldn’t move, either.
She lay on her back with her face upwards, floating on the waves, up and down, up and down. She wasn’t going to last long like this. It was too cold. If she didn’t manage to pump the oxygen in her blood up to her head very soon, she’d faint. If she rolled over and her head went under water, then…
Breathe, she said to herself and tried to gain control over her lungs. She managed a small gasp. The sky was clear and full of stars. A wave hit her unexpectedly and she swallowed a lot of water. She started to cough. Her chest was stinging and burning, but at least it made her lungs work, even if they didn’t want to. Then another wave washed over her, she tried to hold her breath this time. It turned her over on to her side and she had to use her arms and legs to stabilise herself. Only just managed.
She shouted for Patrik, but didn’t get an answer. She shouted again. All she heard was the sound of the constantly moving water, bubbles rising up from the boat, which had sunk below the surface now.
Nora let out a sob. She’d managed to control her breathing now, to a certain extent at least. She closed her mouth and nose and waited for the icy helmet around her head to disappear. She’d be able to breathe again soon.
Nora thought about giving birth, how important it was to breathe properly. She tried to be aware of her surroundings so she’d be prepared for the next wave.
The sound of an engine made her turn her head.
There. A light, not far away.
But it disappeared again the next moment when the biggest wave so far pushed her to one side. Nora thrashed her arms and legs. It might be the lifeboat, she thought, all hope’s not lost; just a little longer. Come on, fight, you’ve got more life in you yet.
She lifted her hands up as high as she could, waved them around, back and forth.
There, she saw the boat again. It passed about thirty metres in front of her. She shouted and screamed as loud as she could. But the boat carried on by. Another wave took her and she wasn’t prepared this time, the water filled her mouth as she shouted. Again she swallowed water, lots of water. She gurgled and swallowed and coughed all at once. Everything was starting to spin round. She didn’t have much breath left, but she tried to keep hold of it until the water washed over her face.
She managed, and started to shout for the boat again, mustering every little bit of strength she could, but knew that she just didn’t have enough air. And soon she had to hold her breath again.
Another wave, Nora was more prepared this time; she managed to float up and down without her head going under. She saw where she was, could see parts of an island to the left.
The boat had turned and was heading slowly towards her.
They’ve seen me, she thought, and the next moment she saw a beam of light just to the right of her, like a beautiful white ray of sun. She tried to reach out to it, kicked with her legs, waved her arms, and she heard the dunk-dunk-dunk of the boat’s engine as it drew closer. And then suddenly the light was all around her. It hurt her eyes, she squeezed them shut and forgot to close her lips, was too busy shouting and waving, and more water washed over her, pressing her down and to the side. Her whole body went under this time, and she spun round and round.
Nora tried desperately to struggle to the surface again, but everything around her was getting blacker; she couldn’t breathe. She knew she mustn’t take in any more water, but she was about to burst; she had to gasp for air.
Henning pulled into a bus stop and turned off the engine. Iver stirred in his seat and rested his head on his hand, with his elbow by the window.
Henning looked out at the darkness. He could see lights in the windows dotted around. Somewhere over there was the sea. Big and powerful and cold.
He normally loved the sea, but right now he hated it. If it had taken her, if Nora was never found…
He gripped the steering wheel, and thought about the evening he’d come home and she’d said those fateful words. Jonas had gone to bed long before. The flat was quiet. It still smelt of supper. She’d lit the candles on the windowsills.
Henning knew straightaway that something was up. There was a gravity in her eyes that he’d not seen before, and a sadness; but she was also wearing a stern mask. She’d decided. Enough was enough.
‘This isn’t doing me any good,’ she’d said. He hadn’t understood the sentence to begin with, but the meaning became clear enough when she carried on. ‘I think it would be best for me if we lived apart for a while.’
Then she’d pointed out into the night.
Everything was so cold. And he probably didn’t react in the way that she had wanted him to. He’d probably got that wrong, too.
He had got angry, hadn’t asked for an explanation. Just turned around and walked straight out again. No pleading. No begging. No promises to change and improve. No questions about what the problem was, what he could do to make things better.
He just walked out, certain that she didn’t love him any more; he’d noticed it for a while now. The resigned look in her eyes, her reluctant footsteps around the flat, how she turned away from him when she slept. The emails with small declarations of love that had stopped coming. The absent text messages.
Henning thought that someone else had captured her heart. So, over the following days and weeks, he didn’t try to win it back; he just met her with silence, misplaced pride, and a slow-burning anger…
She wanted to split them up. To ruin his relationship with Jonas. To destroy Jonas. Make him a statistic. Henning threw himself into his work, more fearless than ever. Everything that they’d had, that he thought was so good … gone.
He’d been the biggest idiot in the world.
And now…
He would have given anything to be out there. He would have done anything to find her, to save her.
He should have fought.
It was too late now, for them, but not too late for Nora. She still had her life in front of her. Henning glanced over at Iver.
They still had their lives in front of them.
The phone rang. Henning picked it up.
The life jacket pushed her up and she managed to get her head out of the water again. The light burned in her eyes.
But she heard something new – a voice shouting, ‘To the right, to the right.’
She turned round, splashing with her right arm and hand, trying to do a stroke at the same time as getting air down to her lungs. The pressure in her head lessened and it was easier to see again. And what she saw, only a few metres away, galvanised her that little bit more.
A lifebuoy.
Nora tumbled round and took another stroke, let herself be lifted by the next wave, before tackling the water again. It was heavy work; the wave had pushed her away from the lifebuoy, but she focused on just how close she was, on the baby in her stomach, and pushed back the water with one arm, then the other. She took short breaths, kicked with her legs. Only one metre more.
Nora threw herself towards the lifebuoy, managed to touch it with her fingers, but it slipped away again. Another wave was coming, so she waited for it, let it lift her up and away. She heard the same voice calling from the deck, but she couldn’t make out what it was saying, could only think about the next stroke, the next centimetre. She had to do it.
Nora took three deep breaths. Then she put her head down in the water and swam as fast as she could while holding her breath. She closed her eyes and forced her way forwards, stretching out towards the lifebuoy. But she couldn’t feel it at her fingertips; she splashed and thrashed a little more.
Suddenly she had her hand on something round and smooth. She held onto it for dear life, threw her arm round the inside of the ring. Then she pushed herself up from the water’s deadly hold.
‘They’ve found her,’ Løken shouted from the phone. ‘They’ve just pulled her out of the water!’
Henning felt his jaw drop. He swallowed, turning towards Iver, and gave him the thumbs up.
Iver collapsed in the seat beside him.
Henning did the same. He blinked hard several times. He needed to compose himself for a few moments before he could speak.
‘Fantastic,’ he said, quietly.
‘But they’re not coming in just yet, they’re still looking for Patrik.’
Henning coughed. ‘Haven’t they found him, too?’ he asked.
‘No,’ Løken replied.
Henning thought about the moment when Jonas came into the world. Up to that point, every second in the birthing suite had been loaded with fear. Nora’s pain, everything that could go wrong. And then, when Jonas came out, when Henning heard the sound of his voice – the most delightful scream, so strong already. The relief was tangible and lifted him – them – up. A feeling that he’d never experienced since.
Not until now.
‘Thank you for letting us know,’ he said, slowly, and then hung up.
He looked over at Iver again. Nora’s boyfriend was staring out of the window, rubbing his eyes.
Henning put a hand on his shoulder. Said nothing. Just let it rest there as the seconds ticked by. And he thought to himself that something was right in the world.
The lights from another car hit the rear-view mirror. It was approaching at speed. Henning watched until it had passed. It was actually an ambulance.
It made him think about Hedda and everything that had happened. Everything that Nora had told him.
Henning called Løken back. The inspector answered immediately.
‘Where did they take Hedda?’ Henning asked, and straightened himself up.
‘The hospital in Tønsberg,’ Løken told him.
‘So the chances are that some of her family are there as well?’
‘Yes, I should think so.’
‘OK. And that’s where they’ll take Nora, isn’t it? I wondered if you might like to have a chat with some of the Hellbergs first. I’ve got an idea of how all this might fit together.’
61
The Vestfold Hospital was on Halfdan Wilhelmsens gate in Tønsberg: a modern building made from redbrick and glass. The entrance to the emergency department was paved. And even though it was the middle of the night when Henning and Iver arrived, there was still a row of taxis waiting outside.
Henning dropped Iver off, found a parking space a few minutes’ walk away from the hospital and hurried back. When he arrived in the emergency department, he saw a small cluster of people surrounded by police officers; he presumed these must be members of the Hellberg family. A short man with bluish patches on his cheeks limped as he walked back and forth. Fritz Hellberg III, Henning guessed. A thin woman with beautifully cut hair, a sharp chin and her arms crossed couldn’t seem to decide which leg to stand on. Unni Hellberg. She straightened her red glasses. William Hellberg was there, too; he was sitting, tapping something into his mobile phone.
Henning remained at a distance, in order to observe the various family members. What astonished him most was the absence of grief and anger – each seemed entirely caught up in his or her own thoughts. Fritz and Unni were standing a few metres apart, but both looked worried. Neither of them seemed to know what to do with their hands.
When Inspector Cato Løken came in, he walked straight over to the family.
He stopped by Unni. ‘How is your daughter?’ he asked.
She shrugged, palms up. ‘It’s too early to say, but they’ve done a brain scan. Is there any news about Patrik?’
Løken shook his head. ‘We’re using all our resources to search the area, but the conditions are difficult.’
Unni lowered her eyes, put a hand to her mouth, and let out an almost inaudible sob.
Løken gave her a few moments. In the meantime, he caught the attention of Fritz and William and waved them over.
‘Mrs Hellberg,’ he said. ‘I’d like to have a few words with you all, if I may.’ He indicated all three of them with his hand.
Unni dried a tear and looked up at him. ‘Now?’
Løken nodded.
‘About what?’
‘What’s going on?’ William asked when he came over.
‘I’d like to have a few words with you all,’ Løken repeated.
‘About what?’ William asked, repeating Unni’s question.
A tall man had joined them. ‘My clients have been through a lot this evening, officer,’ he said smoothly. ‘I’m sure you can find another more suitable time.’
Preben Mørck, the Hellberg family lawyer, Henning guessed. He held himself with dignity and authority.
‘I’m sure I could,’ Løken said. ‘But this is a criminal case and I take it for granted that the family will do their utmost to help solve it. I certainly hope they will provide as much assistance as they can.’
Unni and William exchanged glances with Fritz, before looking over at the lawyer, who seemed to be waiting for a decision from them.
‘We could also do it down at the station,�
� Løken continued. ‘But we’re closer to Hedda here; in case there’s any news. As I said, it’s just a few words, you’re not being questioned.’
Unni lifted her shoulders and sighed.
‘In that case, I would like to come with you,’ the lawyer said.
‘I’ll see if I can find a room,’ Løken said. ‘There are too many people here.’
The Hellbergs exchanged glances again as the policeman walked off. Henning felt William’s eyes on him as he wandered over to Iver, who was feeding coins into a vending machine to get some chocolate.
‘I’ll stay here in case they bring Nora in,’ Iver said.
‘OK.’
‘Good luck.’
Løken soon returned. ‘Follow me,’ he said, with a nod.
Henning brought up the rear of the family group, listening to the clacking of the lawyer’s shoes and wondering if Løken was going to manage this; if he would remember everything.
They went out into a corridor, walked past some chairs and a table with flowers on it, and some trolleys. The patients were asleep; it was the middle of the night, and none of the lights outside the rooms was flashing.
Løken stopped by a door and held it open for them all to file in.
‘Please, sit down,’ he pointed around the room.
It was a standard meeting room, with a large table. The chairs were scattered about, as though people had had to leave the last meeting in a hurry. Everyone sat down, all except Løken. He stood at one end of the table.
‘Why is he here?’ the lawyer asked, pointing at Henning.
‘For several reasons,’ Løken said. ‘He’s provided the evidence that I’ll show you later, and he’s here in case I forget anything. I’m not getting any younger.’ He gave them a small smile, but none of them was open to charm.
‘I object to him being here,’ the lawyer said.
‘Well, you’re very welcome to leave the room if you find it uncomfortable,’ Løken replied. ‘As I said, you’re not being questioned, although that could easily be arranged if you prefer. But we would need to go down to the station, and I’m sure that there will be members of the press hanging around down there and it would take a good deal longer.’