Nine, Ten ... Never Sleep Again (9 page)

She bought him
a
bike. He had been asking for one ever since he was
four and his dad asked the question:

How will he ever ride a bike?

It had tormented Valdemar ever since and his
mother knew that, but up until this day she had refused to buy him a bike just
because he wanted to impress his dad. The fact was, it was impossible for the
boy to ride a bike and it was way too dangerous. He would only get hurt and his
dad would be less impressed than ever.

It was a bad idea.

At least that was what she thought until the day
she finally gave in to the boy's pressure. Every afternoon when they walked
home from school, Valdemar would stop in front of the bicycle store and glare
at the many bikes. There was one, especially, that held his attention. It was
blue, sparkling blue with a wide seat and, most importantly of all, it looked
exactly like the other kids' bikes. It wasn't made for handicapped boys. It
wasn't different.

So one afternoon, Anna finally gave in to those
big, pleading eyes. She bought the bike while the storeowner looked at her
strangely.

"He won't be able to ride it, you
know," he said.

Anna looked at the boy who refused to listen to
sayings like these. The same boy who had taught himself to use a spoon, who had
rebuilt their house by adding things everywhere so he wouldn't need anyone's
help with anything, the boy whose life up until now had been a study in
engineering.

Then she smiled. "Oh, he will," she
said. "He'll find a way."

"Suit yourself," the storeowner said.

Never had Anna seen her boy as proud as when
they brought it home and she placed it in the garage where Valdemar wanted it.
Now he was working on something in there that he didn't want her to see until
it was done, he told her and she was waiting in the living room, biting her
nails, wondering what he had come up with. Worrying that his dad would be angry
or let him down once again.

Michael stayed away from the house more and
more. Often a week would pass by where they didn't see him. He was on the road,
working, meeting clients he told her if she asked. But the trips were getting
more and more often now and Anna started wondering what he was doing all this
time. Staying in hotels? Eating alone in restaurants? It was no secret he
didn't enjoy being at home anymore. He hadn't enjoyed it ever since Valdemar
was born.

Anna sighed and hid her face in her hands. She
missed him so much. For six years now she had been on her own with this. She
had been alone, abandoned, having to make all the decisions herself, and
raising Valdemar on her own trying hard to protect him from getting hurt by his
father's resentment towards him. It was heartbreaking and wore on her strength.
The constant worrying about her boy had made her old. Her body was skinny, her
breasts hanging. Her hair had turned white overnight, right before Valdemar's
first birthday. It was the constant worrying, the doctor said. It happened from
time to time.

"At least you won't have to worry about the
greys popping up one after another like most people," he had told her to
cheer her up.

"But I look like an old woman. At the age
of thirty?"

"I think you're beautiful," the doctor
had told her and Anna had blushed. It had been a long time since anyone had
told her she was beautiful.

While waiting in the living room for whatever
wonder her boy had now come up with, she grabbed her long white hair and looked
at it. It wasn't too bad. At least she had learned to live with it, just as she
had learned to live with the fact that her husband was never going to accept
their son and his handicap. He saw it as a failure, like she had failed him as
a wife for giving him a son with no arms.

"If only he could see what I see," she
mumbled, as she heard the door to the garage open and Valdemar call for her to
come.

I took Peter's
boat
and sailed to the shore where I borrowed Peter's
Land Rover to go to Hasle. I didn't enjoy the fact that I left Peter and Julie
alone on the island. There was an old fishing boat in the yard they could use
to get to the main land if they really needed it, but still, I felt like I was
cutting off their only connection to the world outside the island.

"They'll be fine," I mumbled and
checked my hair in the rearview-mirror. I parked the Land Rover across the
street from the Hotel Bellevue. The street was packed with cars and
photographers; camera crews were crowding outside the building. I drew in a
deep breath and looked at my phone. I had received a text from Sune.

MEET YOU AT THE FRONT ENTRANCE

I looked at it again with my heart pounding in
my chest. Was I ready for this? Was I ready to face him again? I put the phone
in my bag and decided I was.

I walked up towards the crowd of working
journalists and photographers. A journalist from TV2 News was in the middle of
a live broadcast, speaking into the camera.

"… while they said after the first incident
in Brabrand, they were certain this was nothing but a one-time incident, the
police are now wondering if there is actually an organized gang behind these
attacks. They are asking the public for help, since the killer left no
fingerprints or any trace behind. Back to you Lisa."

I snuck past her and into the crowd. I elbowed my
way, ducked under cameras to not be seen until I spotted him. As usual, he
stuck out in the crowd like no one else. Tall and skinny and the only one here
with a Mohawk.

My heart dropped. We had spent so much time
together over the last several years. So many great articles, so much fun with
our kids, so much love between us. Could I just throw that away? And for what?
Pursuing some happiness and family life that I didn't even know if I wanted
after all?

Julie was right. I needed to figure out my life
soon.

I exhaled and walked closer. Sune was already
taking pictures. I put my hand on his shoulder. He turned around and our eyes
met. For one moment, we both forgot everything. It felt like a punch in my
stomach. It completely knocked the air out of me. At that instant, looking into
his eyes, seeing him so close to me again, I felt heartbroken. Heartbroken with
longing for feeling his arms around me again. Heartbroken for wanting so badly
to kiss those lips again. And, worst of all, I sensed he felt it too. He stared
at me like he was searching for words, looking for something smart to say, to
break this moment between us. I watched his lips part, but no sound came out.
All the people around us became nothing but a distant buzz.

Speak for crying out loud. Say
something.

It was Sune who said the first word.
"Hi."

I smiled. "Hi."

He bit his lip, then lowered his eyes. And just
like that, the moment was gone. "Let's get to work," he said.
"What do you need?"

"I … uh … I was thinking some pix of the
main building. The front entrance, maybe even all the journalists in front of
it to document how big of a story it is."

"Already got all that."

"Great."

I cleared my throat. I felt like crying. Being
this close to him again reminded me of everything we had together. Of all that
I had given up to save my marriage. I felt sick to my stomach with longing for
him. I pushed it away. I swallowed my tears and my emotions along with them.

"What's next?" he asked.

"Let's get out of this crowd. We're not
getting anything here that all the others won't have."

"I hear you."

We elbowed our way out and walked around the
building. "I want to talk to the employees," I said.

Sune followed me. How I loathed this strange air
between us. Why couldn't we just go back to how things were? Why did everything
have to change all of a sudden? I hated it.

We walked around a corner and bingo. Three
people who looked like hotel employees were smoking behind the dumpsters. I
turned and winked at Sune.

"There is our story."

The bartender had
seen
the girl often at the bar, he told Henrik. She
came there to pick up guys and he thought she was a prostitute, but she could
just be a girl looking for men. It was hard to tell. Whatever name she had
given to Henrik the night they had spent together, he couldn't remember it, no
matter how hard he tried. But the bartender knew it.

Annabelle Svendsen
.

After getting her name it didn't take Henrik
long to look her up. There were only two people by that name in all of Denmark.
And one of them lived in Elsinore, in the other end of the country. But one
lived in Silkeborg, half an hour’s drive from Brabrand.

Henrik called the police from the car he had
rented on his way there and spoke to officer Jansson, asking him how the
investigation was going. The officer told him they were very busy, but they
would let him know as soon as they knew anything. Henrik considered asking
about the girl, about why they hadn't arrested Annabelle, but that would be the
same as admitting that he had lied when he said he slept alone that night.

"So, there are no suspects yet?" he
asked. "No arrests made?"

"No. None so far. We'll let you know, Mr.
Fenger."

"Fucking morons," Henrik groaned as he
hung up. Why hadn't they arrested the girl? Well, it was all the same. He was
actually glad they hadn't. Or else he wouldn't get his revenge, now would he?
In his head, the story was as clear as they get. He had offended the girl, she
was angry with him because he didn't want to be her boyfriend, because he
didn't want to take her out to fancy vegetarian restaurants and chitchat about
beetroot and zumba-classes.

But why she had chosen to take his kidney?
Henrik had no answer to that question. Maybe it was just her way of getting
back at him, the freaking cunt. Maybe it was bigger than that. Maybe she was
even making money off of his kidney, earning a living on selling his organ.
Henrik didn't care what the motive or purpose was. All he knew was that he
wanted to see her in pain for what she had done. Unlike the police, he wasn't
going to let her get away with it.

Henrik slammed his fist into the wheel of the
car several times in anger, then drove off towards Silkeborg.

Annabelle Svendsen lived in an apartment close
to the center of town. Henrik found a parking space a block or so away and walked
the rest of the way so he wouldn’t be seen. As he stood in front of the front
door to the apartment building, he wondered how to get inside. He considered
just pushing all the buttons to all the apartments until someone thought he was
the paperboy and buzzed him inside, when suddenly someone, a young girl, walked
out of the door. He smiled at her and grabbed the door before it shut.

"Thanks," he said.

The young girl smiled, then disappeared down the
street. Henrik walked up the stairs, checking every nametag on the doors on the
way up. On the third floor, he found her name.

A.Svendsen

Henrik chuckled. It was almost too easy. It was
like the universe wanted him to find her. He lifted his hand and put his finger
on the doorbell. Then he waited. Henrik fixed his hair and put on his most
devilish smile.

The door opened. The girl looked at him with
astonishment.

"You?"

"Me."

"But … What are you doing here?"

"We need to talk."

"Sure." Annabelle stepped aside.
"Come on in."

Henrik smiled widely, then walked past her into
her apartment. Annabelle closed the door behind him.

"I'll make us some coffee," she said.