I'm Travelling Alone (51 page)

‘Yes, you can go now,’ Lukas said. ‘Go with God. The gate is open.’

He caught a glimpse of the boy’s eyes as he passed him in the cold room.

‘Thank you,’ Tobias said, placing his hand gently on his arm.

‘I am Jesus.’ Lukas smiled again and showed them the way to the ladder with the torch.

He waited until they had both crawled out through the hatch before aiming the torch at the shelves again and finding the jerry can. It was heavy, but he managed to carry it up the ladder, dragging it up the steps with his torch tucked under one arm. He closed the hatch and stood watching the stars for a moment. He had rarely seen a more beautiful sight. Hope and joy twinkled across the sky. He smiled fondly to himself as he crossed the yard.

The pastor was standing inside the church, in front of the altar at the end wall, with his back to him. He turned when he heard Lukas enter.

‘How did it go?’ The pastor smiled, walking towards him with open arms.

He stopped, shocked, in the middle of the church when he saw what Lukas had in his hand. Lukas had drawn the gun from the lining of his trousers and was holding it in his outstretched arm with the muzzle pointing straight at the pastor’s chest.

‘Lukas? What are you doing?’

‘I’m saving you,’ Lukas smiled, walking softly towards the man with the white hair.

‘What do you mean, my son?’ the pastor said, gritting his teeth. ‘Come to me, my son. Give me the gun. You don’t know what you’re doing.’

He held out his arms towards the young man with the blond hair.

‘Shhh,’ Lukas said. His eyes were sparkling now. ‘Haven’t you realized it yet?’

‘Wh–at?’ the pastor stammered.

‘That the devil is inside you.’

‘You’re talking nonsense, my son,’ the white-haired man stuttered.

‘No,’ Lukas said gravely. ‘The devil has taken residence in you, but it’s not too late. I was put on this earth to save you. This is my mission.’

‘What the hell, Lukas,’ the pastor stuttered.

‘Don’t you see?’ Lukas nodded. ‘The devil has taken your heart. He’s talking through your mouth. We don’t treat children like that. We don’t treat people like that. We help them, we don’t hurt them. That’s not the will of God. It’s not your fault. You’re innocent, the devil tricked you. He got you to invite him in. Took your soul. Made you want to hurt other people. Everything will be all right now, Father. We can travel right now. We don’t need to wait. Let us go to Heaven together.’

‘Give me that gun, you damned …’ the pastor screamed frantically, but it was too late.

Lukas pulled the trigger, shot the white-haired man twice in the chest and dropped the gun on the church floor. The pastor was flung backwards by the heavy blow and collapsed, gasping, in front of him. Lukas opened the jerry can and started pouring its contents along the walls. He took his time. They were in no hurry. The smell of petrol started wafting through the small church. Pastor Simon was lying on his back on the floor, his mouth half open, watching Lukas with panicky eyes, clutching his chest with stiff, spasmodic hands. How beautiful, Lukas thought, when he saw the fresh blood trickle in small brooks across the newly polished floor. He tipped out the rest of the petrol by the altar and returned to the pastor, who was clutching his throat now, trying to say something, but only gurgling noises emerged from his mouth.

‘Don’t be scared,’ Lukas said, stroking the pastor’s white hair.

He stood up again and took out the lighter from his pocket. Checked to see if it worked. Watched the little flame flicker in front of him. He started in one corner. The petrol quickly caught fire. He went over to the other side, put the lighter to the floor, ignited the petrol and continued until the whole of the white church was filled with burning light. He threw aside the lighter, went back to the pastor, knelt by his side and held his hand. The church was ablaze now – curtains, walls, the floor, the altar. Lukas smiled to himself and started chanting. He stroked the pastor carefully across his white mane.

‘Can you see the devil? He’s leaving you now. Isn’t it wondrous?’ The young man laughed.

The pastor stared at him, horrified. His body was shaking. The blood was pouring out of the holes in his chest.

The flames started licking the ceiling. The whole building was burning now.

‘I’ll see you at home, Father.’ Lukas smiled.

And closed his eyes.

Chapter 86

Holger Munch crept quietly towards the old cottage with a feeling that something was wrong. The windows were bolted shut. There was a gaping hole in the roof. There were no signs that anyone had lived there for years. The cottage looked as if it might collapse at any moment. Could this place really be Karen’s hide-out? This dilapidated hut? Strange. The closer they got to the house, the stronger was his feeling that something was amiss.

‘All Delta units, this is 9,’ he whispered into the walkie-talkie, just as he felt his mobile vibrate in his pocket.

‘Anyone see anything?’

‘Negative,’ came the reply in his ear.

He could see Curry shifting from foot to foot only a few metres in front of him, his pistol at the ready. Curry shrugged his shoulders as if to say, What are we waiting for?

This house really was uninhabitable. Had she built somewhere she could live underneath it? The small room they had seen on the Kiese movie? From what he had seen of the short film, that room was far too small to live in. Of course, there might be several such rooms next to each other, but it seemed unlikely.

He tried frantically to make a decision. They had absolutely no time to lose. She had Marion. She had Mia. They had to do something. They might be too late already.

Too late already.

He didn’t even dare to think of the consequences if the latter was true. For Miriam. Marianne. For everyone. Everyone in the unit. Not least him.

‘9, this is Delta 1,’ he heard in his earpiece. ‘We’re on standby and ready for entry. Clear signal for go? Over.’

Curry shrugged his shoulders again, almost over-eager now. It seemed as if he was up for anything and, unless Munch gave the order soon, he would storm the house single-handed.

Munch had crouched down on one knee on the grass, not far from the cottage, trying to get a clearer view of the situation when he felt his mobile vibrate in his pocket for the second time.

No, this wasn’t it. It didn’t feel right. Building a small, underground, sealed room was one thing, but a place you could actually live in? Why on earth would anyone do that? Surely it would be much simpler to make changes to the basement in a house which was not about to cave in?

‘9?’ He could hear in his walkie-talkie again.

It wasn’t only Curry who was getting twitchy now, the whole entry team was on edge.

His mobile buzzed again like an angry wasp against his trouser leg.
What the hell?

He eased it out of his pocket and glanced at it while trying to screen the light from the display with his hand so he would not be seen.

He had two missed call from Ludvig Grønlie, and a text message which was now glowing at him from the mobile.

Wrong place!!! Witness reports eye contact with Marion. Call me!!!!

‘Delta all, Delta all, this is 9,’ he said quickly and firmly into his walkie-talkie. ‘We have a new location. Regroup and await new orders. I repeat, no entry, we have a new location, regroup and await new orders.’

He got up, walked quickly back to the car and rang Ludvig Grønlie.

Chapter 87

Emilie Isaksen sat behind the wheel, driving her car up the narrow gravel track leading into the forest. She had spent a long time weighing up the pros and cons. After all, she had promised Torben a pizza, but the boy had seemed happy with some chocolate and a banana she had had in her bag. She didn’t know why, but she had a hunch that time was of the essence. Tobias had been missing for a week. On his way to a kind of cult in the forest, to the Christian girls, as Torben had called them. The thought that he might be there and in need of help was unbearable, she had to do something now, even if it was a futile gesture. After all, she didn’t even know exactly where this place was. But she had been provoked by the slow response from the police and had decided to take matters into her own hands and, as Torben was sitting next to her with a small smile and chocolate around the corners of his mouth, he seemed quite content.

She had never known a case like this. These kids needed a new home. No doubt about it. You shouldn’t be allowed to treat children like this. Emilie Isaksen was so angry she wanted to bang her fist against the steering wheel, but she controlled herself for the sake of the little boy. Even so, she had some doubts as to whether she had made the right choice. It was dark outside now. The only light she had came from her headlights, the track was winding and they were surrounded by forest; if an elk had suddenly run out from between the trees, she wouldn’t have been able to stop in time. So she drove slowly. The car crept across the gravel track and, as if visibility hadn’t been bad enough to begin with, small drops of rain had started falling on her windscreen. Social workers. She didn’t know much about how they worked; they probably had to follow procedures, write letters, summon the parents, give them an opportunity to explain themselves, endless bureaucracy, possibly legal proceedings – you couldn’t just separate children from their parents, and that was probably a good thing but, in this case, when they couldn’t even contact the parents?

She had a friend who worked for Social Services, Agnete; they had met at an aerobics class and had coffee together a couple of times. She made up her mind there and then to call her once they got off this horrible gravel track; Agnete would probably know what to do.

It was raining more heavily now, and it was near impossible to see anything out of the windscreen. She didn’t even know how far away the farm was. It seemed irresponsible to go on. After all, she had a small boy in the car. Better to turn around and drive back. Let the police look for Tobias while she looked after Torben. Give the boy some more food and a warm bed. Contact Social Services. Start the process which would provide these boys with a good foster home, with trusted, responsible adults who would care for them, love them, like children should be loved.

She was just about to look for a place to turn around when two figures suddenly appeared in the middle of the road, hand in hand, blinded by the headlights.

Tobias.

Emilie Isaksen’s heart almost jumped out of her throat when she saw the two terrified teenagers abandon the road after spotting the unfamiliar car and run into the forest.

She hit the brakes and stepped out into the rain with the engine running and the handbrake on.

‘Tobias!’ she called out.

Not a sound from anywhere. Just heavy rain hitting the gravel and drumming ominously against the bonnet.

‘Tobias!’ she called out again, with the water pouring over her face.

‘It’s me, Emilie. Don’t be afraid. You can come out now. Everything is all right. I’m here to pick you up. Tobias? Are you in there?’

The seconds passed and seemed to Emilie like eternity, but then some branches stirred not far from her, and soon two quizzical faces appeared in between them.

‘Emilie?’ Tobias said tentativel,y as he walked slowly towards her.

‘Yes.’ Emilie smiled. ‘Are you OK? Is everything all right with you?’

The handsome boy looked worn out and confused, but at least he was alive. She heaved a sigh of relief.

‘This is Rakel,’ Tobias said cautiously, gesturing to the girl who was hiding behind him.

The girl, who was wearing a heavy grey woollen dress and a white bonnet, as if she was from a different century, was standing trembling behind Tobias, not quite daring to show herself.

‘She needs help,’ Tobias said, and it wasn’t until now that Emilie realized how exhausted the boy was. His eyes threatened to roll into the back of his head, and he could barely manage to stay on his feet.

‘Get in,’ Emilie said, opening the rear door.

‘Tobias!’ Torben cried out when he saw his shattered bother climb into the car.

The little boy undid his seatbelt in a second and made his way to the back, where he gave his brother a big, long hug.

How could this be allowed to happen? What on earth had people done to these children?

Emilie got back behind the wheel and found a place to turn around.

‘Are you all right in the back?’ she said when they had driven some way down the road.

She caught Tobias’s eye in the rear-view mirror. The boy still looked dazed, but it seemed as if, regardless of the kind of cruelty they had been subjected to, he was slowly starting to believe that they were in safe hands.

‘We’re fine,’ he nodded, his voice trembling. ‘Will you help us?’

He looked at Emilie in the rear-view mirror.

‘Definitely.’ Emilie nodded back. ‘Everything will be all right now, Tobias, I promise you.’

Emilie Isaksen drove as quickly as she dared down the narrow gravel track.

And then she headed into town.

Chapter 88

For the second time in less than an hour Holger Munch was sitting in his car with the binoculars raised to his eyes, with a Delta team ready for entry, but this time outside the right location. Definitely the right one. A girl had seen Marion run out of this very house. Only to be brought back inside. By Karen Nylund. The girl was local and she knew what she was talking about; there was no longer any doubt. And where everything about the old, ramshackle cottage they had just left had felt wrong, everything here felt absolutely right. It was an old, red house, a little shabby but clearly habitable. There was a faint light coming from behind the windows as if someone had covered them with film to prevent anyone looking in. A thin column of smoke rose from a brick chimney on the roof. An idyllic little cottage in the country. From the outside. But it was clear to them that inside was another story. Karen Nylund was inside. She had murdered four six-year-old girls. She had ruined the lives of innocent parents, grandparents, siblings, friends, neighbours; inflicted extreme pain on them which would never go away. She had tricked him into thinking he might experience love again. He felt his hatred well up in his chest, his forehead grew hot and his palms sweaty, but he tried to stay calm. Professional. Not acting rashly. She had Marion. Marion was alive. Or at least she had been less than an hour ago. Holger Munch didn’t dare to contemplate if Mia was inside and what might have happened to her.