The crooked Norwegian Police Chief Helmuth Krogstad and several of his officers, who were working for the Nazis, took her. Krogstad knew I was in the resistance and when they found out Ruthie was Jewish and my wife, they used her as an example for others. On his orders, they raped and beat her to death and then they killed our Anna. I know this because he bragged about it.
All known Jews in Norway have been deported, imprisoned and murdered. Some were able to flee to Sweden. A few may still be in hiding in Norway. I have nothing to live for now but revenge for what was done to my family and so many others. First, I will kill the chief of police’s family while he watches. He will feel my wrath come down upon him in a reign of terror even those inhuman creatures of evil who follow him will be horrified to witness.
Peder’s voice lowered to a whisper as he read the final entry.
July 1946—The war is over. I’m leaving for the United States to be near my brother, Rolf. There’s nothing for me here but terrible reminders of what I have lost and what I have done.
My hand went to my heart. The newspaper photos made sense now. The beheaded man was the police chief who tortured and killed Gunnar’s wife and daughter. Gunnar had done this, even killing Krogstad’s wife and son. Gunnar was my great-uncle, and Charley was Gunnar. I sat in stunned silence.
Peder set the journal on the table and the newspaper clipping slipped out. He looked at it, blinked and hurried down a hallway, talking over his shoulder. “Excuse me, I need to use the bathroom.”
He probably wanted a moment to collect himself. I had to call Wilcox. They must be finishing up at Charley’s or maybe they were questioning Anke. She was German. Maybe she had a connection. There were two boys in the family picture but only one son and the mother had been killed. The child would have to be in his seventies. Vik popped into my mind. He was Norwegian and the right age. He’d been keeping a low profile in Spirit Lake during the timeframe that everything had happened. Maybe the captions would reveal more information. I’d ask Peder to read them unless he was too upset.
I’d left my phone in my bag. I walked out the front door calling to Peder, “I’ll be right back. I’m getting my phone.”
My gaze was on the ground as I hopped off the porch and started toward the SUV. A set of animal prints caught my attention. The spongy ground sucking at my boots, I squatted for a better look. Those ragged paw prints shouldn’t have been there. Cold terror washed over me.
The door flew open behind me and Peder leaped from the porch and shoved me to the ground. I jumped into a crouch, ready to spring at him. “You took my dogs.”
I hadn’t noticed the gun aimed at my head until he came forward and knocked me on my side with a ferocious kick. I grunted and crab-walked backward. “What I can’t figure out is why you didn’t hurt them.”
His head snapped back, eyes wide. “I would never hurt a dog. I love dogs.” His foot came toward me again. I shrank away but this time it was a nudge. “Get up.”
Tongue-tied with too many questions fighting to be asked, I scrambled to my feet. He waved for me to enter the house first.
He pulled a chair away from the table. “Sit.” He saw my eyes on the journal and whisked it away. “You won’t be needing this.”
Keeping the gun pointed at me, he reached into a drawer and showed me a length of clothesline and a zip tie. “Planning. I’d hoped to get you here much sooner.”
He pushed me forward. “Hands behind your back.” One hand held the gun as he slipped the tie over my hands and pulled tight.
“How did you get them to go with you?”
“The dogs? Easy, I have a way with animals. Rock already knew me so I told him if he came with me, we’d go see Britt. Knute followed. When Rock figured out we weren’t going to see you, I already had the muzzle on him.”
“How did you get in?”
He waved a hand. “Also easy. The restaurant has been in chaos since Lars’ accident.”
I spat. “We both know it was no accident.”
“Okay, happy coincidence.”
I stared at him as if seeing him for the first time.
“They keep their keys on a peg just inside the kitchen. I slipped in and grabbed the key ring. If they’d asked, which they didn’t, I would have said I was on my way to the bathroom. I went back to the bistro for a few minutes, then slipped around back and unlocked the door. Back in the bistro, I gathered my things and returned the key ring to the peg before leaving. I’d driven to town and parked on the street. No one would recognize the car; I always came to town by boat.”
“Why take them and then let us find them?”
His lips stretched, but it wasn’t a smile. “Wilcox had a deputy here asking questions. I needed to do something to point them back at the Willards.” He came closer and stroked a strand of my hair. I jerked away. His face darkened. “But now I need to get back to Sasha.”
“I get it that you must be connected to what Gunnar did in the ‘40s, but we had nothing to do with that.”
He stuck his face close to mine, perspiration beading along his upper lip. “My mother and father had nothing to do with it either, and yet I never knew any of my real family because of what your kindly old flower-growing great-uncle did to my grandparents.”
I scrambled to make sense of what he said. “The people in the news clipping?”
He seemed lost in his thoughts.
I said, “There’s no need to go after Little, now, right? You have to get out of here fast or you’ll be caught.” I tried to keep my voice neutral, but the reedy warble gave away my terror. “They know I’m here.”
His lip curled. “You didn’t tell them because they wouldn’t have let you leave by yourself.”
He stood over me, his finger tapping his chin. “True, Little’s not going to propagate the Johansson family line.” He caught his lower lip between his teeth. “I have to get moving and he’s being guarded as if he’s the President. I’m out of time.”
He looked like a little kid who wanted to show his mommy the picture he drew in school that day. He needed to get killing me over with so he could go to his sick dog, but desire to brag about what he’d done must be even stronger.
“Why Lars? He’s not related.” I worked at the tie biting into my wrists but couldn’t loosen it.
He raked the hair away from his face. “Lars was a spur of the moment opportunity.”
“But you were in the restaurant when he was on the lake.”
He shrugged. “I had plenty of time to make my usual appearance.”
I hadn’t even considered that. “How did you get to him?”
“I happened to be looking out my window at the incessant rain when Lars passed by in his boat. I followed him into that cove at the island. I called out, but he wore earbuds. He drifted close to shore, I cut my engine and used the oars to get closer.”
“Lars is bigger than you. What if he’d seen you?”
That open, friendly smile I’d found so engaging spread across his face. “I’d say hello and go on my way, but he still faced away from me when I pulled up alongside, so I bashed him in the head with my oar. He fell out of his boat and hit his head on a rock. I thought he’d drowned.”
I wanted to cover my ears. I’d tried to get him to talk and now I wished he would shut up. His voice rose and he paced back and forth. “I dragged him into that clearing, but he started to wake up. You’d told me he was half-Jewish and it infuriated me that if it wasn’t for the Jews I would still have a family. I beat him until I thought I’d killed him.”
I lunged at him. “If it wasn’t for your monster of a grandfather you’d still have a family.” He stuck the gun in my face and pushed me back down. Why had I never noticed how cold his eyes were? But he’d looked so unthreatening. He didn’t even appear strong enough to drag Lars into the woods.
His voice flat, he said, “I’d never been a violent man before, but torturing Charley to get the information about his lawyer and the safe deposit box and then killing him
was such a release, I needed to do it again.” He turned predatory eyes on me. “And I need to do it again now.”
Nervous sweat trickled down my back. “What was in the safe deposit box?”
“Gunnar’s Norwegian identification papers, proof that I had the right man. Keys to the boxes you found, but no information about where they were hidden.” He came closer, a menacing smile played at the corners of his mouth.
I leaned away, frantically tugging at the tie around my wrists. “We have a piece of the oar. They’ll trace it to you.”
That stopped him. “Impossible, I dropped them in the middle of the lake.”
“I guess you missed a chunk that flew off when you attacked Lars. That explains why you didn’t have oars when you ran out of gas.”
“I wasn’t out of gas when we found him. I was trying to get you away from there.” He shot another gloating smile at me. “I dumped the gas when you sent me for help so I had a good excuse.” He checked his watch, stuck the clothesline in a pocket and pulled me up by my elbow.
He shoved me out the back door and pushed me up against a tall pine. Then he wound the clothesline around my chest and waist, anchoring me to the tree.
A limb from a birch lay on the ground next to an axe. He sat on the back step, pulled a knife from his jeans pocket and whittled the top into a sharp point. I tried not to visualize what he intended to do with it.
I said, “I’ve never met anyone like you before.” It wasn’t true. I’d met worse scumbags than him who did their murdering on massive levels but better to keep him talking.
He tossed his hair back, pleased with himself. “I needed to find the most important thing to each of you. For you, you said it yourself, it was your brother’s safety.”
He continued pushing the knife in an upward motion through the birch, honing the point, using his thumb to test it, and watching the effect his words had on me.
Chills shook my body. When he saw my reaction, his eyes glittered.
“What did I miss? How could you have tricked me so thoroughly?” I didn’t realize I’d spoken out loud.
“You’re not the brightest. I did my research and discovered you have a big blind spot. You’re a crusader. Some articles even use that term to describe you. You have to stop bullies, so I gave you the gay hate thing and you came up with the Willards. Bolger, another bully, came along on his own. That’s why you didn’t suspect me.” He pointed the stake at my throat. “I’m a different kind of animal.”
I shrunk away. “You’re a weasel.”
He tossed his hair. “I’d have had you sooner but Wilcox must not have anything better to do than watch over you.” His head jerked toward the road as if wondering if the sheriff was there.
I looked too, mouthing a silent prayer. Sheriff, I promise to always do everything you ask if you get me out of this. Thor’s admonishment about how my actions had distracted the sheriff from doing his job came back to me. And I’d done it again by sending them after Anke.
Peder leaned the sharpened stake against the house and paced in front of me, lost in thought.
When I’d gotten my voice under control, I said, “You’re alive so it’s not true your entire family line has been ended.”
“You don’t know anything.” He looked like he wanted to cry.
“Why don’t you explain then, because I just think you’re a madman.”
“My father was four when Gunnar killed his parents, my grandparents. He even killed his older brother. A neighbor, Mrs. Jorgensen, saved my father. She was giving him a violin lesson when Gunnar attacked the others. The Jorgensens brought up my father as their own child. My father grew up, married and had me, an only child, but didn’t tell me the true story until he was dying.”
I listened hard, trying to figure out a way to stay alive.
“He showed me newspaper clippings and photos of my real grandfather’s head on a stake, same as the one in that journal. My father had tried his entire life to find Gunnar. He’d researched Trondheim Johanssons who had family in other countries and it took him years of searching to find the connection to your grandfather, Rolf.
Near death, he asked me to finish his work, and I promised to destroy Gunnar if he was still alive, and all his living relatives. Charley was the only ninety-year-old man in this area who had a relationship with your father, so I tortured him and threatened that I’d kill all of you unless he confessed.”
Poor Charley. “You did this for revenge because you have no family? Surely there must be relatives still living from your father’s birth family.”
“Don’t you think I tried to find them? I was so happy when my research gave me names and addresses. I went to see them, expecting to be embraced as a family member. But they didn’t want to have anything to do with me because of what my grandfather did to the Jews.”
He picked up the stake and poked it at my throat. “Your great-uncle killed my family and ruined my life. Now I’m going to make sure your family line ends with you in the grave.”
I tried to reason with him. “Why would you want to be part of a family that had a member who raped, tortured and killed innocent people?” I had to keep him talking. As soon as he stopped, he’d kill me. “You could start your own family line.”
He shrieked. “I can’t have children. My wife left me because she wanted a baby, the selfish bitch. I suggested we adopt, but she wouldn’t do that. Our divorce was final three months ago, and she’s already pregnant. I found out she was having an affair when we were still married.” His lips opened in a snarl. “When I finish with you I’m going back to deal with her. She can’t do this to me.”
What would a psychologist make of this? His wife divorced him, his father died and he learned the horrific family history. His original family rebuffed him because they didn’t want to be reminded of the past and he was all alone. Had that been enough to make a sane man lose all reason?
My brain scrambled for ways to keep him talking. “Peder, you don’t want to do this.”
His eyes were lifeless. “My name is Fredrik.”
I blinked. “Who’s Peder Halvorson?”
He threw back his head of silky blond hair dark with sweat, and laughed. “He’s my ex-wife’s fiancé.”
His jugular bobbed with each swallow of air. “All I care about is my Sasha. I have to get back to her. To both of my beautiful dogs.”
He dropped the stake and grabbed the axe lying next to a birch limb. He held it high in the air. My life could not end like this. I swallowed the voice inside me that wanted to beg for mercy. “That’s not what you used on Charley.”
“His chain saw is in the middle of the lake.”
Desperate, I said, “I thought you liked me. We were friends.”
He rested the axe on his shoulder and smiled at me with affection. “It’s true. I liked the way you swam with such grace and power. And the way your hair blew back in the wind when we were on my boat, like one of those wooden figureheads on the prow of a ship facing fearlessly into the wind.”
His hand caressed my forearm and my skin retracted. “You’re so direct, not like my ex-wife with her subterfuges and betrayals. You were the reason I didn’t end this sooner. I didn’t want to stop seeing you.”
If this was what he did to women he liked, what might he do to his ex? I wanted to spit in his face but forced myself to look into his eyes, my voice gentle. “Stop now, and get help. We can get you a good lawyer. I’ll be there for you.” I’d be there to see that he got the maximum penalty.
He wavered for a moment and then laughed again. “You are lying.”
“You’ve made your point by killing Charley. Why don’t you get away while you can? Leave me tied to the tree. I’ll probably get eaten before they find me.” The mosquitos alone would drain my blood by morning.
He hesitated, and I hoped he was considering it but he untied me from the tree, shoved me to the ground and raised the axe. I stared up at it, my pulse racing. “That’s going to take a long time, especial
ly for someone who doesn’t know what he’s doing.”
The axe stopped midair. I said, “Ben and Wilcox are probably on their way now, tracking me through my SUV’s GPS. They expected me at the restaurant an hour ago. Even if I’m dead, they’ll track you anywhere you go.”
His eyes widened. “I’ve got to get out of here.” He brought the axe down. I screamed and rolled away. The blade came down and the blunt end caught me at the back of my head mid-turn.
Half-conscious, I was dimly aware of my head banging on the steps, back scraping against the threshold as he dragged me into the house. He said, “As you Americans say, Plan B. They’ll never prove anything or find me.”
Peder grabbed a gas can from the back porch, emptied it on the kitchen table and chairs, then lit a match and tossed it. I blacked out.
I woke to fire licking at my hair and the back of my shirt and I flattened myself against the rug to extinguish the flame. The room was filled with smoke so I squat-walked, keeping low to the floor and made my way to the door. I used my shoulder to push through, lost my balance and fell down the steps.
A car engine roared and I opened my eyes. Had I blacked out again? Peder backed out of the garage, saw me and came running. I tried to roll out of the way but he jumped on top of me, his hand grabbed for my throat. My martial arts trainer’s voice came to me. “When things get meaningful, unleash the beast.”
I bucked up and snapped my legs around Peder’s neck, trapping the arm that had reached for my throat tight against a pressure point in his neck. Adrenalin pumped through me and I squeezed harder. His head slumped forward. I hoped I’d killed him.
Chapter 25
Windows exploded and flames climbed the walls, devouring the cottage. Using every ounce of my strength to keep Peder locked between my thighs, I watched the sparks shooting up like a fireworks display, disappearing into the trees and dark sky.
Screaming fire engines snapped me out of a daze. The driveway filled with vehicles. Fire fighters raced toward the house with hoses and equipment. Someone yelled, “Get those flames out before we have a forest fire.” More lights and sirens filled the night. Someone half-lifted, half-dragged us away, and still I squeezed.
Close Up on Murder Page 23