The Dinosaur Feather (38 page)

Vibe nodded.

“And yet it’s the worst case I’ve ever been involved with. It touches every raw nerve. Everybody’s lying to me! Or, most of them are. They’re lying to protect something that isn’t worth protecting. Something they believe must remain hidden at any cost. Just like I did with Maja. The investigation only started five days ago. The papers call us clueless, but that’s a load of rubbish. It took us four weeks to solve the Malene case and we were praised for our swift work. They just write that because I’m not coming across very well.” He looked embarrassed. “And I always used to. I spoke to two reporters the other day. The headlines could have been worse. They should have said
Top cop gets personal
or something like it.” He swallowed.

“And I’ve fallen for with one of the suspects,” he said. Vibe didn’t reply. When he looked at her, she had turned to one side and didn’t appear to have heard his last confession.

“Are you okay?” Søren asked, scared. He thought about John, who had taken the dog for a walk and Vibe’s massive stomach, which looked as if it might burst at any moment.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “I’m not about to go into labor.” She smiled. “But . . .”

“But what?”

“I’ve got something to tell you, too.”

And then Vibe told Søren something that changed his life.

Afterward Søren thought long and hard.

Henrik had been right. Things weren’t always black and white.

Chapter 13

As promised, Karen was waiting on the platform when Anna and Lily arrived at Copenhagen central station after their visit to Odense. She was carrying a plastic bag full of chips and bottles of wine, which she nearly dropped when she hugged Anna. Anna froze, but Karen whispered, “Never let me go,” and Anna cautiously put her arms around her.

Lily’s turn was next. Sleepy and groggy, she received the greeting of her life from a woman she had never met. Anna had to laugh, and Lily showed how wrong all theories on how quickly an object can melt could be. She radiated, even more so when Karen conjured up a teddy. Lily wanted to hold Karen’s hand, Karen wanted to hold Anna’s hand, and together they walked through an almost deserted station to the taxi stand.

When Lily had been put to bed, they made themselves comfortable in the living room. Karen wanted to know everything. Anna showed her photos from Lily’s birth, of Thomas in the maternity ward, sitting down with Lily in his arms, and standing, smiling, flanked by Cecilie and Jens. Karen made no attempt to hide her interest and looked at the photographs for a long time.

“Well, it’s obvious,” she said, at last.

Anna didn’t understand. Karen pointed to Thomas.

“He’s way out of his depth.”

Anna took the photographs. She thought Thomas was gorgeous. Relaxed, calm, on top of things. Everything she had ever dreamed of. His chin was lifted, his gaze was confident.

“Watch his hand.” Anna followed Karen’s finger. “You don’t clench your fist in the hospital when you’ve just become a dad. And look into his eyes.”

Anna looked into his bright blue eyes.

“His fear is killing him. And you’re probably just as terrifying.” Karen’s eyes flashed. “If you’re a wimp, I mean.”

Anna mulled it over. Then she started to laugh.

“What are you laughing at?”

“At you,” Anna replied. “At your ability to wave your wand and put everything into perspective. By the way, what on earth were you thinking, calling Troels after we spoke last night, you dork. Are you trying to save the world?”

“How do you know about that?” Karen asked, not looking the least bit embarrassed.

“I saw him today.” Anna was serious now. “It was really weird. It started off all right. In fact, I was pleased to see him. But then it went wrong, somehow. There was something . . . strange about him.”

Karen looked at Anna for a long time. Her gaze was warm. Then she said, “I really wanted us to be friends again. All three of us. Like in the old days. It was the best time of my life. The years with you. I want that again.”

Anna hugged her.

“You hopeless romantic,” she said into Karen’s hair. The ice was broken, it had melted and the water was warm. They drank all the wine and ate all the chips. They put the world to rights. Anna found she couldn’t stop talking, and Karen laughed at everything she said. If only Søren could see me now, Anna thought triumphantly. Anna in her living room, relaxed, tipsy on red wine, in the company of a good friend. She began to cry. Karen gave her a worried look and took her hand. “What is it? What’s wrong?” she wanted to know.

“Do you know who Sara is?” Anna said, looking straight at Karen. Karen’s mother had been Cecilie’s best friend. Always and forever. And Karen and her mother were close and shared everything. What if everyone knew who Sara was? Everyone except Anna?

“Nope,” Karen replied. “I don’t know anyone named Sara. Who is she?”

An idea occurred to Anna. The photograph. It was hanging to the right of the stove in its lacquered wooden frame, looking at her, like a face. She got up.

“What is it?” This unexpected shift in mood mystified Karen who straightened up in the sofa.

“Hang on.” Anna wiped her eyes and took down the picture.

“How old am I here?” she asked.

“I don’t know . . . two? I don’t know anything about children,” Karen said, apologetically.

“It’s summer in this photo. I’m wearing a vest. Cecilie is in a bikini. So I must be between eighteen months and two and a half. And I don’t think it’s the latter. I still have those chubby breastfeeding cheeks. So my guess is eighteen months. Do you agree?”

“Er, all right.” Karen scratched her head. Anna fetched her handbag and took out Ulla’s photograph. She showed it to Karen.

“That’s you and Jens, right?” Karen said. “Gosh, Lily looks so much like you!”

“This photo was taken in August 1978. I’m roughly eight months old in that photo. So I’m eighteen months in one picture and eight months in another, do you follow?”

Karen nodded. Anna fetched a letter opener from her desk and placed the framed photograph face down.

“What are you doing?”

“My parents are lying,” she snorted. The old frame was an obstinate devil. The small brackets had practically rusted into the cardboard backing.

“About what?” Karen was completely lost.

“Turn that photo over.” Anna nodded in the direction of Ulla’s photograph on the table while she struggled. By now, she didn’t care if she broke the stupid frame. Karen sat diagonally behind her, curled up in the sofa, and Anna sat on the edge, using the coffee table as her workspace. Finally, the stubborn brackets started flying.

“Sara Bella and Jens, August 1978,” Karen read out loud. “I still don’t get who Sara is?”

“Don’t ask me.”

Anna slipped the letter opener under the cardboard backing.

“Spooky,” Karen mused. “Perhaps you had a twin sister who died?” Anna stopped in her tracks. This was an explanation she hadn’t even considered. She examined it quickly.

“That baby,” she pointed the letter opener at Ulla Bodelsen’s photograph, “is me. And this baby,” now indicating the picture she was easing out, “is me as well. The girls are identical.”

“Identical twins,” Karen whispered, dramatically.

“It makes no sense, Karen. Why would my parents keep it a secret that I had a twin sister who died? Anyway, that can’t be it. Ulla, the health visitor I saw today, said nothing about twins.” The cardboard came off, underneath it the faded backside of the photograph appeared. Anna cheered. On it someone had written
Anna Bella, Dad, and Mom. July 1979.

Anna placed the two photographs side by side on the coffee table. They sat up and studied them.

“It’s the same child,” Karen stated. “But in August 1978 she was called Sara and the following July, her name was Anna. That’s just weird.”

They sat in silence for a long time, lost in thought. Anna felt a strange sense of purpose. She wasn’t alone. Karen was there.

“Why would you change a child’s name?” she asked Karen.

“Why don’t you just ask Jens and Cecilie?” Karen suggested.

“True,” Anna said. “And I’m going to. But let’s play detectives. I want to be prepared.”

“Okay,” Karen said, indulging her. “A name usually marks the beginning of a life. You’re named and you go through life with that name. You keep that name—unless you visit a numerologist who tells you you’ll win the lottery, if you change it to Solvej, or something like that.”

Anna started to smile.

“So, a name marks a beginning,” she said slowly. “Cecilie was ill. She had problems with her back.”

“Hmmm,” Karen said. “I do remember something about that. My mom used to say that’s why you were so close to Jens. Because he carried you everywhere during your first year.”

“He was practically a single dad,” Anna said. “Cecilie spent a lot of time in the hospital. Though I think he managed quite well,” she added.

Soon afterward they went to bed.

Saturday morning Anna woke up and, for a moment, she didn’t know where she was. She sat upright, feeling dazed. It was past ten and she was in her bedroom. She couldn’t recall the last time she had slept past ten. She heard muted laughter and got up. She went to the kitchen. The door to Lily’s room was open, and Karen and Lily were sitting on the floor drawing pictures. They had taped paper to the floorboards and were drawing houses and roads as seen from a bird’s perspective. Lily had started furnishing one of the houses with small teddies and furniture from her doll’s house. The radiator was on at full blast, and she could smell toast.

“Hi,” Anna said.

“Mom,” Lily shouted, dropped everything and threw herself into Anna’s arms. Anna lifted up her daughter and sat down on a chair in the kitchen. Lily’s body was warm and soft under her PJs.

“Did you sleep well?” Karen asked. Anna nodded.

“Cool afro,” she said, giving Karen a nod of approval. Karen’s hair was—if possible—even frizzier in the morning. They both burst out laughing.

“Why are you laughing?” Lily asked, confused.

“Auntie Karen’s monster hair,” Anna explained.

“Auntie Karen has a lion on her head, Mom,” Lily said.

Karen and Anna laughed even louder. The kitchen was welcoming, and Anna wanted some toast. With lots of butter and cheese. It was just like the old days. Karen and Anna rolling down a hill in the sunshine, laughing and rolling. They could take on the world. The cow pies they rolled over, the spinning globe, hunger, thirst, everything. As long as they were together.

Karen joined Anna at the table while she ate her breakfast. Lily went back to play in her room. Karen had made coffee. It tasted heavenly.

“What’s behind that door?” Karen asked, pointing over Anna’s shoulder. Anna swallowed her toast and turned around to look at the door to Thomas’s old office, as if seeing it for the very first time. Then she stole a look at Lily who was absorbed by her game.

“It was Thomas’s office when we lived together. I nailed the door shut when he moved out. We didn’t need all that space.” She smiled bitterly.

“What’s inside it now?” Karen wanted to know.

“Nothing,” Anna said, taking another bite of her toast.

“Aha,” Karen said. A short silence followed. Then Karen remembered that Jens had called.

“Seven times on your cell and twice on the landline. I unplugged it so it wouldn’t wake you.” Karen gave Anna a searching look.

“Did you speak to him?”

“No. Your cell is over there.” She gestured to the kitchen counter. “I saw his name come up on the display.”

Another pause. Karen turned on the radio.

“Okay,” Anna said, eventually. “Would you answer it when he calls back? I’m going to Professor Helland’s funeral at one o’clock.” She checked her watch. “Shit, I need to buy flowers . . . how long is a funeral? Two hours? Three? Would you tell Jens I can meet him at four thirty? At his place. Without Cecilie. And I want him to respect that. I can only stay an hour because I have an important lecture at the Bella Centre at six o’clock, and if Cecilie is there, I’ll leave immediately. All depending, of course, on whether you’re prepared to babysit Lily? I’ll be back between seven and eight,” she added. Karen thought it over.

“Yes, that’s fine,” she said. “But I want a favor in return. I want you to promise me you’ll meet with Troels, properly. I want to be there. I want all three of us to get together and see if we can be friends again. If not, well, then I’ll just have to accept it. But I want you to give it a try, Anna.”

Anna mulled it over, then she held out her hand.

“Deal,” she said.

“Great,” Karen replied.

Jens called while Anna was in the shower.

“He sounded surprised I answered your phone,” Karen said. “I told him you were showering, but you would be at his house at 4:30 p.m. And no Cecilie. He protested to begin with.”

“Yes, it’s tough to do anything without Cecilie.” Anna towel-dried her hair angrily.

“Anyway, he agreed eventually. He sounded really upset.”

Anna disappeared into her bedroom to find some suitable clothes. She decided on black jeans, a thin black sweater, and Chuck Taylors.

“You can’t wear that,” Karen objected. “Chuck Taylors?”

“I wear what I want,” Anna said. “They’ll just have to take me as is.”

They hung out in the living room for another hour. Lily and Karen played with Lego bricks on the floor, and Anna sprawled in an armchair she had dragged to the window. She looked across the rooftops. There was a huge lump in her throat, and every time she closed her eyes, she saw Johannes. His bad skin, his soft gaze, and his hair with the awful red dye that was growing out. Lily came over to her chair.

“Mommy’s crying,” she said. Anna looked at her daughter. She was about to shake her head, deny it, wipe away her tears, and lie, but suddenly the light outside changed and it was as if Lily’s small head glowed.

“I feel really sad,” she said. “Because I have a friend I can’t visit anymore.”

“Why not?” Lily asked.

“Because he’s dead. He’s in heaven.” Anna pointed to the clouds, which had parted and for a moment the columns of light beamed down to the earth. Lily looked in the direction of Anna’s finger and narrowed her eyes.

“He’s kicking a ball around. I think he’s happy. Heaven is a good place, but I’m here on earth, and I’m sad because we can’t see each other.”

“I want to go to heaven,” Lily said, looking longingly out of the window. Anna lifted her daughter onto her lap.

“You will one day,” she said. “But first you need to be here on earth with your mom for a long time.” Lily snuggled up to Anna for a few seconds. Then she climbed down.

“I want to play with Auntie Karen,” she said.

Karen had been watching them.

“It’s terrible what happened to . . . your friend,” she said quietly. “What was his name?”

“Johannes.”

“It’s terrible what happened to Johannes.”

Anna nodded.

Shortly afterward Anna put on her army jacket and pulled the hood up.

“You’re wearing that?” Karen stared at Anna in disbelief. Anna zipped her jacket up to her chin and flashed her yellow eyes at Karen.

“Yep,” she replied. Then she left.

Anna recognized Professor Freeman immediately. He stood outside the church, next to an impeccably dressed younger man, digging his shoe into the gravel like a child. Anna approached with caution and tried to hide inside her jacket, until she remembered that Freeman didn’t know what she looked like. She positioned herself fifty feet away from him, and when he entered the church she followed and took a seat in the pew opposite, two rows behind, where she could keep an eye on him.