I'm Travelling Alone (36 page)

She closed the door to the dairy cabinet and found the place where they kept the eggs. She put four boxes in her basket. Her basket was blue, she could see that, if she closed the eye, which was brown. If she closed the eye that was blue, the basket turned brown. It wasn’t true, but everything was possible if you just pretended. Four times twelve eggs equals forty-eight. She tried but failed to remember what else was on her list. Yes, bread. She went to the bread counter and chose a wholemeal loaf. There was still a sour smell in the shop, she had to pinch her nose. Carrying the basket with the eggs with one hand was difficult. The boy behind the till also smelled sour. He, too, had slept badly, that must be the explanation. She had money in her bank account. It said ‘approved’ on the terminal. The shop really was starting to reek now. She just about managed to put the eggs in her carrier bag and run outside into the fresh air before the whole shop rotted behind her. She sat on some steps for a moment until the air felt fresh again, then she picked up the bag with her right hand and started walking home.

Chapter 56

Munch had just parked a short distance from the apartment block with a view of the entrance when Mia’s phone rang.

‘Yes?’

‘It’s Curry.’

‘Is she at home?’

‘No, there’s no reply. We’re waiting for you, can you see us?’

Mia glanced down the road and spotted the black Audi.

‘Yes.’

‘What do we do?’

Mia looked at Munch.

‘Do we go in?’

Munch shook his head.

‘We must remember that this woman might be innocent. All that we know is that she used to know Roger Bakken and that she might have had access to Veronica Bache’s mobile. I’m not putting my neck on the line for as little to go on as this.’

‘No, we’ll wait a little longer,’ Mia said on the phone. ‘Do we have units in all streets?’

‘Yes.’

‘Send in Kim,’ Munch said quietly.

‘Send in Kim,’ Mia said on the phone. ‘See if one of the neighbours will let him in.’

‘OK,’ Curry said.

Soon afterwards, the back door of another Audi opened and they saw Kim head for the entrance. He rang a couple of the bells before the door was opened and he disappeared inside.

‘He’s in,’ Curry said.

‘Yes, we saw,’ Mia said.

They had done this many times before. Both during training and in real life. One or two men would go inside; the rest waited outside, in cars or on foot. There was a knock on Mia’s window. She opened it. Kyrre slipped a small bag inside and disappeared again. Mia opened the bag and handed the second set of earphones to Munch.

‘We’re up and running,’ Mia said, ending the phone call. ‘Kim, can you hear me?’

‘Yes.’

‘What’s on the inside?’

‘Door to the basement. Lift. Stairwell.’

‘Take the stairs to the second floor,’ Munch said.

‘OK.’

They waited until Kim reported back.

‘I’m here.’

‘Is it the right door?’

‘The sign says ìM. Stoltzî,’ Kim confirmed.

‘Ring the doorbell.’

They waited a few more seconds.

‘There’s no reply. Do I go in?’

Mia and Munch looked at each other.

‘Yes,’ Munch said.

Mia was reminded of Anette’s warning. Perhaps Munch was too close. Was he capable of making the right call?

‘I’m in,’ Kim said.

‘What have you got?’

There was silence for a moment.

‘Oh, my God,’ Kim then said.

‘What is it?’ Munch said, louder this time.

‘This is just … You have to see this for yourselves.’

‘What is it?!’

Munch was shouting now, but Kim did not reply.

Chapter 57

Malin Stoltz suddenly became aware again and discovered she had a plastic carrier bag in her hand. She must have been to the shops. She didn’t even remember going outside. She looked around. She was outdoors. The last thing she remembered was a strange dream. An angel had come for her. She would not have to be here much longer, it was just as she had planned; but after that she did not remember very much. She opened the bag and peered inside it. Four boxes of eggs and a loaf of bread. Good Lord.

It was not the first time this had happened, but it scared her just as much all the same. Once, she had woken up on a tram. Another time, she had been on her way to Tøyenbadet Swimming Pool. She took a deep breath and sat down on a bench. Perhaps she ought to go see her doctor again. She hated going to the doctor’s, but perhaps it was about time. The blackouts had become more frequent, especially on the days she did not go to work; as long as she was at work she could manage, but at home was another matter. Where she had to be herself. That was the tricky part. She was pleased that it would soon be all over. Not long to go now. Soon she could rest. Soon she would no longer have to be Malin Stoltz. Or Maiken Storvik. Or Marit Stoltenberg. She tried focusing on the walk home, but images kept cropping up in her head. She tried concentrating on her carrier bag instead. She touched the plastic. That was tangible, wasn’t it? It was here? Yes, it felt real. She looked down at herself. Matching shoes. Very good. Trousers. Excellent. T-shirt and a thin jumper over it. She had done well. She had not gone outside naked. She had got herself dressed. She was a little cold, that was all, but at least she was dressed. She patted herself to warm up and tried once again to conjure up images of how to get from the bench and back to her flat. She looked at the shopping again. It said Rema Supermarket. She had been to Rema. To get home from Rema she had to walk past the pizzeria. She looked around and saw a neon sign on the corner. Pizzeria Milano. She knew the way from there. Well, kind of. She rose quickly from the bench and crossed the street. She was cold now. She wanted to get home as quickly as possible. She did not want to catch a cold. If she had a cold, she could not go to work; they were strict about that. The old people were frail. They could not have germs at the care home. She reached the pizzeria and paused while she scouted for the next landmark. The one-way street. Walk in the opposite direction of oncoming traffic. Down the street with the red sign with the white bar. She saw the sign and aimed for it, but then she stopped.

Something was wrong. Something was not right. The neighbourhood seemed different. Different to how it usually was in the morning. There were no people in the parks. There were no people sitting in their cars, looking around. Slowly, it dawned on her. Very slowly. Then she realized it.

She dropped the Rema bag on the tarmac, spun around and started running down the street in the opposite direction.

Chapter 58

Sarah Kiese was standing outside a brick building in Mariboesgate, waiting for a woman called Anette. She had tried calling for several days, but the line had always been busy.

You have reached Oslo Police Incident Line. All our operators are busy taking calls. Please hold.

Eventually, after trying for three days, she had got through. The last time, she had been on hold for more than forty minutes, but she had not given up, she had waited patiently, and finally her call had been answered. She had expected the voice on the phone to be pleasant, but it was not. The woman had sounded irritated. Abrupt, like,
What do you want?
Sarah Kiese was starting to think that she was doing the wrong thing. That the woman assumed she was calling because of the reward, but she wasn’t. She didn’t care about the money.
One million kroner for anyone who can provide information that leads to a conviction in this case.
She had read about the reward in the newspaper and that was when it had started to dawn on her.

Her husband had died almost a year ago. He had fallen from an unsafe building under construction. Sarah Kiese was glad that he was dead. He had been a terrible husband. He had nearly ruined her life. She had wanted nothing more to do with him. She hadn’t even attended his funeral. The smell of other women. Money disappearing from her purse, from the jar on top of the fridge, which she had saved up to pay the bills. The disappointed expression on her daughter’s face on the rare occasions he came home but refused to play or talk to her. A memory stick from a solicitor containing a blurry film about something he had built. An underground room. She had put it out of her mind. Forgotten about it. She had her own life now. She had a new flat. She was happy for the first time in years. But then it had come back to her. The movie on the memory stick. The one she had deleted. They were offering a reward of one million kroner. Perhaps she had lied to the surly woman on the Incident Line. Perhaps the reward had prompted her to ring. It had certainly caught her attention. Her husband had seemed terrified. And he used to be a tough guy. His trembling voice had told her to go to the police should anything happen to him. He had built a room underground, in the middle of nowhere. With a service lift and a fan. She had deleted the film. She wanted nothing more to do with him. She felt clammy just thinking about him. More than anything, she wanted to throw up. She didn’t want him in her head or her life any more, so she had deleted the film, and that had made it all go away. Right until last week, when she saw the newspapers. A reward of one million kroner to anyone providing information leading to a conviction in the case. Pauline, Johanne, Andrea and Karoline. And that was when it hit her.

Her husband had built the room where the girls had been held prisoners.

Sarah Kiese found some chewing gum in her handbag and glanced around. She had been told to wait in the street. She thought Oslo Police had their headquarters in Grønland, but it would appear not. No, that was still true, but perhaps they had other offices. Suddenly, a door opened and a tall woman with blonde hair and plenty of freckles came towards her.

‘Sarah Kiese?’

‘Yes?’

‘Hi, my name is Anette,’ the police officer said, showing her warrant card.

‘I’m sorry for not calling earlier,’ Sarah apologized. ‘The lines were busy the whole time and, well, my husband and I were not exactly friends.’

‘Don’t worry about it,’ said the policewoman with the freckles. ‘It’s great that you’re here now. Did you bring the laptop you told us about?’

‘Yes,’ Sarah Kiese nodded, showing her the bag.

‘That’s great. Follow me.’

The policewoman called Anette gestured to a door in a yellow brick building and held up her card to a scanner.

They waited quietly in the lift. Anette was much nicer than the woman on the telephone. Sarah was pleased about that. She had been worried that she might be criticized for contacting them after such a long time. She had been criticized so much her whole life. She couldn’t take any more.

‘This way, Please.’ Anette smiled, and led the way through the corridors.

They reached another door, which was locked, and Anette ran her card over another scanner. The door opened and they entered a large, airy, modern office landscape. It was buzzing with activity; people were practically running back and forth, and the phones rang nearly all the time.

‘In here.’ The policewoman with the freckles smiled again and showed her into an office behind a glass wall.

A young man with short, tousled hair was sitting with his back to them in front of several computer screens. It looked almost like a scene from a movie, with screens and boxes and cables and small flashing lights and plenty of modern technology all over the place.

‘This is Gabriel Mørk,’ Anette said. ‘Gabriel, meet Sarah Kiese.’

The young man got up and shook her hand.

‘Hello, Sarah.’

‘Hello,’ Sarah said.

‘Please take a seat,’ Anette said, sitting down herself on one of the chairs. ‘Please would you tell us again why you called?’

‘Yes.’ Sarah coughed.

She gave a brief account of her situation. The death of her husband. The lawyer. The memory stick. The movie. The room he had built. How scared he had been. That she was now thinking it might have been about the girls.

‘And you deleted the film from your computer?’ the young man asked her.

She nodded.

‘Was that wrong?’

‘Well, it would have been better if you had kept it, but we’ll find it. Did you bring your laptop?’

Sarah Kiese took the laptop out of her bag and gave it to the young man.

‘And you obviously don’t have the memory stick?’

‘No, that went out with the household rubbish.’

‘Ha-ha, yes, unfortunately I won’t be able to find that,’ the young man said, and winked at her.

Sarah started to smile. They were so nice in here. She felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She had been scared that they would be strict, tell her off, like the woman on the phone.

‘I would like to take a written statement. Is that all right with you?’ Anette asked.

‘Yes.’ Sarah nodded.

‘Would you like a cup of coffee?’

‘Yes, please.’

The police officer with the freckles smiled once more and left the room.

Chapter 59

After morning prayers Pastor Simon told Lukas that the two of them would be spending the day together. Lukas could hardly believe his ears. Together? Just the two of them? He had felt flushed with excitement. Lukas was often near Pastor Simon, but the pastor was always busy with something or other; usually, he was in conversation with God, or preaching the word of God to the apostates who needed to hear it, and Lukas was mostly told to carry out other important tasks, such as washing the floor or doing the laundry or making sure that Pastor Simon had clean bedlinen. One evening some years ago, Pastor Simon had said that Lukas was the person closest to him, his second-in-command, and since that day Lukas had walked tall; he had stood by the pastor’s side, his back straight and his chin up. But there was one thing he had been longing for, not that he wanted to complain about the past – indeed not, that would never occur to him – but if he was allowed to miss anything, then it was that he would also like to be by the astor’s side when it came to spiritual matters.

And that was what Pastor Simon had inferred today. Lukas had seen it in his eyes.
Today, you and I will be together, Lukas, just you and me.
That was what the pastor had meant. Today, Lukas would be initiated. Today, he would learn the secrets and hear God speak. He was sure of it. They had left the farm, Porta Caeli, after morning prayers and breakfast. The women on the farm really knew how to cook. Lukas was proud of Pastor Simon for having picked such wonderful women. Fifteen women who obeyed the word of God, who could cook, keep house and do laundry: they were hard workers. The kind of women they would need when they got to Heaven. Not self-obsessed, vain women who spent their time lying in front of the TV, painting themselves like whores, demanding that men did all the work.