Peek A Boo I See You (Emma Frost #5) (7 page)

Calm down Anders. You have to save your air until help arrives. You have to stay calm.

Crying and sobbing, he looked up at the camera again.

"Please. Please HELP ME!"

14

February 2014

"
I
GUESS IT'S NO SURPRISE,"
Morten said on the phone, "but the head sent to you
is
the one that belongs to the body we found outside of City Hall yesterday."

"Well at least no more have been killed then," I said.

It was afternoon when Morten called and I was waiting for Maya and Victor to come home from school. I had baked some of my very unhealthy wheat gluten-packed buns and had sent my mom into the living room, where she was sitting with her laptop checking her e-mail and Facebook.

Meanwhile, Sophia had taken off for work, even though she had insisted on staying for a while to be there for me. Alma had started daycare and Sophia was back in her part-time teaching job at the local school, which she loved.

Finally, I had some time to myself before the kids came back and I enjoyed it immensely. I was still shaken by this morning's events, but I tried to not let it get to me. I couldn't shake the feeling that the two women had died because of me, somehow, and that made me feel terrible.

"Are you alright?" Morten asked on the phone.

"I will be," I said. "Did you ID the second woman?"

"As a matter of fact, we did. It wasn't too hard once we had the head…," he cleared his throat. "I mean, since it's a small island and everything. So when I brought it down to the station, my colleague Allan immediately recognized her."

"So, who was she?"

"Tine Solvang. She was a social worker down at City Hall," he said. "Went missing after a fight with her husband a year ago. Hasn't been seen since. Everyone thought she had left the island and gone back to Copenhagen where she originally came from…even her husband, since he received a letter from her telling him that she had left him and that she never wanted to see him again. It was sent from Copenhagen."

"Wow," I said. "A year ago, you say?"

"Yes. The forensics people told me her body had been frozen. It's hard to determine the exact time of death, but they believe she was killed about twelve months ago, then frozen until a couple of days ago when her body was thawed and the head cut off. It was definitely done after she was killed and the body frozen."

"How was she killed? There was blood on her face," I said, remembering how I had gotten it on my fingers and scrubbed them to get it off.

"That's another story." Morten exhaled. This was tough, even on him, I could hear. "The blood on her face wasn't Tine's."

"Then whose was it? Susie Larsen's?"

"Apparently not."

"So maybe it was his?" I asked hopefully.

"That's what we hope. But there's another possibility. One I don't like to think of."

I covered my mouth with my hand. "It might be from another victim?"

"Well, we don't know yet. We're getting it analyzed in the lab."

I grabbed a chair and sat down, touching my forehead in distress.

"So, he’s planned this for a long time, huh?" I asked.

"At least a year, maybe even more," Morten said with a heavy voice.

"And what part do I play in it all?"

"That's what we need to find out."

"Please, do it quickly," I said and spotted Victor and Maya walking past the kitchen window. "I don't want any more people to die because of me."

"Emma, you need to let go of that thought. If he hadn't chosen you to deliver his message to, he would have chosen someone else. It’s not your fault. You hear me?"

The front door opened and I could hear my children in the hallway, taking off their winter boots and heavy jackets.

"Whatever," I said. "Just catch this guy for me, will you? Please?"

Morten chuckled. "Anything for you. You know that."

I smiled and waved at Maya as she entered the kitchen, looking cold with her rosy cheeks and red nose tip. "I know. Gotta go."

"Talk to you later."

15

February 2014

"
H
OW WAS YOUR DAY, SWEETHEART?"

Maya exhaled and sat down in a chair. "The usual," she said.

"And you Victor? Did you have a good day?"

"Why?"

I smiled. "I know I ask the same question every day. But did anything exciting happen today?"

"No."

I felt the buns to see if they were cool enough to eat, then picked a couple and put them in a basket that I placed at the table. "Did you learn anything new?" I asked Victor. He wasn't looking at me, but for once, I seemed to have his attention and I wasn't going to let it go easily.

"No."

I buttered a bun and placed it in front of him. He started eating, still staring down at the table.

"What's your subject in History?"

I only asked because I knew Victor loved history lessons and he could spend hours in his room reading about the French revolution, which was his favorite subject.

"The Battle of Copenhagen on April 2
^nd
, 1801."

I buttered a bun for myself and started eating as well. Maya only had a glass of juice.

"You're not having any?" I said, a little hurt.

"I'm not that hungry. Plus, I don't think all this gluten is good for you. I prefer Grandma's bread."

I scoffed, knowing she only said it to hurt me, which she succeeded at, but I pretended she didn't. "Well, suit yourself. You're missing out, right Victor?"

"I'm done," he said and got up. "I'm going to play in the yard."

"Don't forget to get your snowsuit on. And gloves," I yelled after him, but he was already gone.

"I should be going too," Maya said and got up.

"Where are you going?"

"I have homework, then I promised Grandma I’d take her downtown to visit the organic health store."

"The organic health store, huh?" I sipped my coffee and bit down on my buttered bun. "Well, have fun. Go crazy."

"Thanks, Mom," Maya said, and stormed out of the kitchen.

I exhaled and leaned back, not knowing what to think of it all. At least Maya wasn't doing drugs or hanging out with boys at the harbor. But a health freak? My daughter? I couldn't believe it. I grabbed my laptop from the table and opened it. While finishing my bun, I opened my mailbox and scrolled through my e-mails. I sipped my coffee, while going through all the e-mails from my readers telling me how much they loved my books, asking for signed copies, and so on. I answered as many as I could, then opened a new e-mail. It seemed to be from another fan, but as soon as I read further down, I realized it wasn't. As I read the letter, my heart started pounding. Then I grabbed the phone.

"Morten, I think I've received an e-mail from the killer."

"What are you saying?" he asked, startled.

"I’ve received a very strange e-mail. I think it might be from the killer of those women."

"What does it say? Can you read it to me?"

"It all seems a little strange. It starts with
Dear Emma Frost
.
I'm a great fan of your work.
Then it gets weirder
. I'm sorry to have been so drastic in my way of getting your attention, but it is hard these days to be noticed. Now that I have your full attention, we can move on. Do you like to play, Emma Frost? I do. My favorite game as a child used to be Hide and Go Seek. Do you want to play Hide and Go Seek with me, Emma Frost? I think you do. Here’s the deal. Attached to this e-mail you'll find a video and some information. If you know how to connect the dots correctly, you'll win. Isn't this fun? But you must hurry, Emma. As you watch the video, you'll understand. Time is of the essence here. Good luck. It's already so much fun playing with you. Yours sincerely."

"Then what does it say?" Morten asked. "Is there a name? Anything?"

"No, there’s nothing. No name, nothing. Not even a sender on the e-mail. I can't reply to it."

"That's the oddest thing I've heard in a long time," Morten said, puzzled. "Have you looked at the attachments?"

"No. I'm pressing play on the video now," I said, and moved the cursor.

A picture of a guy showed up on my screen. He was panting and desperately knocking on the walls of, what appeared to be, a small box that he was in. He was crying and screaming desperately, pleading into the camera for help.

I gasped.

"What is it?" Morten asked.

"I think you better come over here."

16

February 2014

"
W
HAT'S GOING ON?"

Morten stormed into the kitchen a few minutes after we’d hung up. I was still looking at the screen on my computer, trying hard to calm myself and my desperately beating heart down.

"I…it's…It looks like a guy is trapped in a box somewhere," I said. "Why? Why would anyone send a video like this?"

"Let me see," Morten said.

I pulled away so he could better see. "Please tell me what the heck is going on here, Morten. Who is doing these things? The two women, the head in the box and now this? Tell me you have a suspect. Something."

Morten exhaled, tired. "I'm sorry. We don't have anything yet." He looked at the screen where the man was knocking on the roof of the box while screaming for help.

"Who is he?" I asked.

"I don't know. This is awful. We can't even tell if the guy is alive or if the video is old."

"It's a live feed," I said.

Morten looked at me. "It's happening right now?"

"Yes. That man is in that box right now. And see the clock in the corner?"

"It's counting down?"

"My guess is that is how long the guy has left before he runs out of air," I said. "The killer attached some documents from NASA as well as some about how much Oxygen a person needs at rest in an airtight space. At first I didn't understand them, but then I saw the small clock in the corner of the live stream and then I understood."

"So he has less than two hours left?" Morten asked.

"Guess so."

Morten pulled his hair. "And we have no idea what the killer wants, do we?"

"None whatsoever. There are no demands in this e-mail and, as I said, I can't even reply to it to ask what it is he wants."

"Have you looked through all of the attachments?" Morten asked.

"I have. But it makes no sense. It's mostly newspaper clippings about a place on the island that is about to close, then there are statistics about young people with psychiatric diseases…I…I really don't get it."

"Let me have a look at it," Morten said, and opened the attachments. He looked at the numbers and scrolled through the reports.

"It's a lot, right? I mean, we can't sit here and read all this while the guy is running out of air. We need to do something."

"But the answer has to be in these documents, somehow," Morten said. "Wasn't that what the letter said? You had to connect the dots to win?"

"Yes, but…What if he is just a maniac and none of it makes any sense? Then we're going to be too late," I said. "The poor guy will die."

"What is this place that the articles are talking about?" Morten asked, and started reading.

"It's this place called Hummelgaarden. It's an institution for young kids with psychiatric problems," I said.

"And it's closing? Why?"

"Apparently, because the city can't afford to run it, but some of the articles say it's because the neighbors don't want it. They say it devalues their houses and make them afraid in case one of the youngsters runs loose and attacks one of the neighbors or their children. But, officially, it's because there’s no money." I paused and looked at Morten. "I think you're right."

"What are you saying?"

"Maybe the killer wants something after all," I said.

"Like what?"

"He wants us to stop the closing of Hummelgaarden. Don't you see? All these statistics show how many young people with mental diseases there are who commit crimes…and then this place that tries to help them is being closed. I think he wants us to save the place."

"A killer with a noble motive? It sounds a little out there."

"I know. It does. I mean, he killed two women to get our attention about this, why would he do such a thing? Unless…"

"Unless there was a message in it," Morten said. "One was a social worker, the other a young woman who was diagnosed with bipolar disorder when she was in her teens."

"Of course," I exclaimed. "That's why he put the head of the patient on the body of a social worker. It was all part of the message."

"Because it's in the head she was sick and needed help."

"Just like the kids placed in Hummelgaarden."

Morten sighed and leaned back in his chair. "Wow that's a lot to take in at once. So how do we do it? How do we save this guy?"

"We raise enough money to keep Hummelgaarden open."

17

May 2006

"
I
LOVE YOU SO
much mom!"

"I love you too, Samuel," Alexandra said, forcing a smile.

You don't mean that. Why are you lying to the boy? The fact is, you can't stand him. You're scared to death of him, even on the good days.

She was standing in the kitchen cutting carrots for dinner when Samuel came up to her and said the words. She looked at him only briefly, afraid to say or do something that might cause another of his fits. The fact was, he could be so sweet and loving at one moment, but then change in an instant and Alexandra was never prepared for when that was.

Unlike Poul who had stopped talking to the boy at all, Alexandra hadn't given up on Samuel yet. She still believed that somewhere, deep inside, the real Samuel was hiding and that there was a way to help him. But, as she had experienced in the last several years, there wasn't much help to get anywhere.