Tweedledum and Tweedledee (16 page)

I decided it had to be another restroom, so I started going through all of them on the deck. But I found no man that had fainted or anyone who could tell me about it. I stopped several strangers on my way and asked if they knew about a guy fainting in the bathroom, but no one could tell me anything.

It was all a little odd, I thought.

After about twenty minutes, I decided to get back. I wasn't getting anywhere with this. Maybe him fainting had nothing to do with the killings. After all, he could just have been sick or something.

Except your mom said he was bleeding from the shoulder.

Well, he could have hurt himself, right? Maybe he fainted and hurt his shoulder in the fall. I took the ship’s elevator back to my deck, then walked to my suite’s door and slid my card through the reader. I opened it and walked inside. I noticed the ship was hardly moving anymore and, suddenly, it came to a stop. I was surprised by this, since I had expected it to find harbor as soon as possible.

"Mom? Dad? I'm back. I couldn't…"

I froze immediately. There was no one here? "Mom? Dad? Victor?" I asked.

I walked into the living room and found Victor sleeping on the couch. The TV was still on, but where were my mom and dad? Where was Christoffer? I turned off the TV, walked to his room, and found it empty. That was strange. Had they gone back to their suite and taken only Christoffer with them?

"Mom? Dad?" I asked again.

Then I heard it. The sound no child should ever have to hear. The sound of my parents having sex.

Oh, my God! Oh my…they're doing it in my bedroom?!

I had no idea what to do with myself. I felt infuriated and embarrassed, all at the same time. But most of all, I felt frustrated because I had no idea where Christoffer was. And what about Victor? Had he heard any of this?

How can they be this irresponsible? They're supposed to be grown-ups. They're my parents, for crying out loud.

I had no idea what to do next. I was standing there, listening to my mother whine and my dad groan, covering my ears with my hands.

This is crazy! What do I do? I can't go in there. I simply can't. I don't want to see them like this. But I need to know where Christoffer is. And I need this to stop. I need to let them know I'm in here. Let them know that I can HEAR them!

I felt mostly like screaming. So, that’s what I did. I yelled their names. Standing right outside their door.

"ULLA and BENGT!"

The noise stopped. I looked at Victor. He moved, but was still sleeping. There was turmoil behind the door and I moved away. I heard fumbling, chitchatting, and someone moving fast. Finally, my dad came out. His thin hair was messy and his clothes were disorganized. He was blushing and panting at the same time.

"Emma! You're back," he said.

"Yes. Yes, I am," I said, talking way too loud and shrill.

"Well, your mom and I were just…," he straightened his hair back while he searched for an explanation. It was painful to both watch and hear. "Well, we were just…taking a little nap."

"Don't even try," I said.

My dad chuckled. "Sorry. Guess you heard us?"

"Kind of hard not to."

"Sorry about that."

I exhaled. My dad had a blissful look on his face. I was thrilled to see him this happy, I had to admit. Even given the circumstances. I just wished it hadn't been in my bed. I would have to have one of the maids come to my room and change the sheets.

"Just don't do it in my bed again, alright?"

My mom came out of the bedroom. She was blushing as well. "Emma? Is that you? You're back fast."

I shook my head, trying to erase the mental images I had made. I really wanted to forget it.

"Let's not talk about it anymore," I said. "Where is Christoffer?"

My mom and dad looked at each other then at the couch in the living room where Victor was sleeping. My mom walked to Christoffer's bedroom.

"He's not here?" my dad asked.

My heart started racing in my chest. "You mean to tell me you don't know where Christoffer is?"

"Easy now, Emma," my mother said. "He's must be here somewhere. Maybe he is hiding…Have you checked everywhere?"

I stormed back into the living room, calling his name.

"Christoffer?"

With angry and frustrated steps, I walked onto the balcony and looked for him, then the bathroom, and the bedroom, checking the closet, underneath the bed and any place he could be hiding.

"I don't understand this, Emma," my dad said. "I swear he was in his room. Sound asleep. We would never have gone in the bedroom if he was awake. They were both asleep, so we thought there wouldn't be any harm in…"

"It's the truth, Emma. They were both asleep when your dad and I decided to…," she looked at my father. Then she looked down. "To also take a little nap."

"I can't believe this," I growled at them, infuriated. "I left you in charge of the boys and now one of them is gone. What the hell were you thinking?"

Victor woke up now. He sat up and rubbed his eyes.

"Now, easy there, Emma," my dad said. "Your mother is right. He fell asleep on the bed. Let’s think about this for a little while. I mean, what can have happened here? No one can get in here when the door is locked. He must be hiding here somewhere. I…I…can't see how…"

"Of course you can't. But that’s what happened. He is missing. Just like the Alberto Colombo kid and Francesca Alessandrino. All because you didn't keep an eye on him like I told you to. All because you couldn't…keep your hands to yourselves."

45

April 2014

I
WAS SO ANGRY
I couldn't stand still. My mom and dad looked like children who had messed up. They were coming up with new excuses and trying to calm me down.

"Now Emma, let's try and be reasonable here," my dad said. "We need to think this through first, alright?"

"Yes," my mom said. "We can't jump to any conclusion now. We need to keep our heads clear."

It didn't work. I stared, infuriated, at my irresponsible parents while a thousand thoughts flickered through my mind. Where could he be? Had the killer taken him? If so, then I needed to react fast, didn't I? Was it already too late?

Oh, my God. I'll have to tell Sophia if he’s missing. It'll crush her. I need to find him.

"Now, let's just take it easy," my dad continued.

"Yes, let's' wait and see," my mom continued.

I stared at them. "Wait and see? Wait for what? For his picture to be shoved under the door?"

"Now, Emma," my dad said. "We don't know that this killer-person has taken him. I mean, the door was locked. Can't he have wandered off on his own? Maybe he went on an adventure on the ship."

"That's not very like Christoffer," I said. "He’s very responsible." I could hear my voice was shaking. I couldn't just stand here while Sophia's son might be in danger. I had to do something. I was responsible for him.

"I'll go look for him," I said.

"I'll go with you," my dad said. "Four eyes are better than two."

"Someone has to stay here with Victor and in case he comes back on his own," my mom said. "I'll do that."

I stormed out the door with my dad following me. "So where do we start?" my dad asked.

"I have an idea," I said. I ran towards the stairs and took them two steps at a time until I reached the deck below ours. My dad followed me closely.

"Where are we going?" my dad asked, panting.

"I don't know just yet. But I have an idea where his kidnapper might be. Follow me. My guess is, he’s on the pool deck."

I found the entrance to the pool deck and ran through the glass doors. I scanned the area quickly and spotted the photographer on the other side. He was talking to a family of four, then he took a picture of them.

"I always thought there was something odd about this guy," I said and walked quickly towards him. "I mean, look at how he dresses. Who wears a black coat outside when it's eighty degrees?"

I ran up to the man and threw myself at him. "Where is he?" I yelled, while grabbing his coat. "I want him back. Now!"

The man in the black coat held onto his camera like it was his only lifeline while I shook him. People surrounding us started to look.

"You took him, didn't you?" I continued. "You killed Alberto Colombo, Francesca Alessandrino, and the guy she was with; I know you did. And you placed those photos underneath their doors, you bastard. Why did you even do that? To make them suffer, huh? To let them know how powerful you are? That you decide who will live and who will die? Is that it? Is it a power trip?"

The photographer tried to fight me off and break loose. I held on to him, then tackled his legs so he fell onto the deck. I placed my foot on his neck and held him down. People had started gathering around us.

"Where is he? Where is Christoffer?" I yelled. "Tell me where he is!"

"I don't know where he is," the photographer moaned. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

I sat on his back and held his head into the pavement of the pool deck. "I don't believe you. You took him. Where is he?"

The photographer was about to answer me, when the sound of something approaching in the air drowned out every word. I looked up and saw a huge helicopter floating over our heads. It had the word Polizia written on its side.

46

April 2014

"
R
IGHT ON TIME,"
I muttered, as the Italian police came onboard the ship. They sprang out of the helicopter when it landed on the heli-pad on the tip of the ship.

An officer with very blue eyes came towards me, flanked by four other officers. Between them walked a guy I thought I had seen before and, as they came closer, I realized where.

The surveillance camera! He's the guy that was with Francesca!

I couldn't believe he was alive. But what did it mean?

"What is going on here?" the officer with the very blue eyes asked as he approached me.

I looked down at the photographer beneath me. I was still sitting on his back. "This man has kidnapped a boy. I believe he killed three…uh, two passengers onboard and that he is planning on killing this boy too. I'm responsible for the boy."

"Let us take care of this," the officer said and signaled for me to get up. He grabbed the photographer by the neck and pulled him up. The guy from the surveillance camera stepped forward.

"Is this him?" The blue-eyed officer asked.

The guy shook his head. He was wearing a patch to cover his right eye.

The officer turned to look at me. Then he stepped up on a table and looked at the entire crowd.

"My name is Officer Del Rossi. This man, Mr. Ferdinando Cirillo has told us he was pushed in the water from this ship by another man. The coast guard found Mr. Cirillo when they were looking for Francesca Alessandrino, who was believed to have fallen in also, but now we have reason to believe she has probably been killed aboard this ship."

The crowd gasped. People looked at each other then at Officer Del Rossi for explanation.

"Now, now," he said. "We don't know exactly what has been going on. That is why we are here. Mr. Cirillo believes he can identify the man who pushed him and we believe he is the same man that has abducted Francesca Alessandrino. We ask of all of you to remain calm and cooperative when we start to search the ship. We will be asking a lot of questions and no one will be spared until we have our man. As you may or may not have noticed, this ship stopped sailing on our orders and will now stay here until we have found our man. No one enters this ship and, most importantly, no one leaves. Thank you for your cooperation."

The officer looked at me, then at the photographer next to me. "Now you two. Explain what is going on, please."

"I don't know," the photographer said. "She suddenly attacked me, claiming I had her son."

"He's not my son. He's a friend of my son's. But I'm responsible for him," I said.

"Do you have her son?" Officer Del Rossi asked.

"He is not my…," I gave up. What did it matter if they thought he was my son? As long as we found him. Hopefully alive.

The photographer shook his head.

"He uses Polaroid," I said. "Just like the ones that were pushed under the door of Mr. and Mrs. Alessandrino and the Colombo's door."

Officer Del Rossi looked at me. He squinted his eyes. "You know about the photos? And you say the Colombos also received a photograph?"

"Yes. I found it in their room. Mrs. Colombo had left it in the safe before she took the gun out."

"In the safe you say? What were you doing in their safe, might I ask?" Officer Del Rossi asked suspiciously.

I exhaled. "I was looking for the photo…I really don't have the time for this. I need to find the boy before he is killed…it might even already be too late. I need you to search this man's quarters for me." I pointed at the photographer.

"I don't have him. I told you," he argued.

"We'll see," Officer Del Rossi said. He signaled his colleagues, "We’ll start in his cabin. You, the one with the camera. You show us the way."

47

April 1984

T
HE TWINS DIDN'T SLEEP
much that night after the visit from the men in white coats. They had no idea what to do. It was frustrating.

Their arms and legs were still strapped down. There was no way they'd be able to escape. There wasn't even a window in the room and the door was locked. In the darkness of the cruel night, they wondered what to. They both knew they would fight this separation with all they had in them. They were joined together for a reason. They were born this way and didn't know anything else.

"I can't live without you, Deedee."

"And I can't imagine a life without you, Dumdum."

"God wanted us to be this way. He created us like this. No one has the right to separate us," Deedee said.