The Exception (63 page)

Zigic jams his hand up hard between her legs, but looks at Iben when he speaks. ‘You wish you got that, don’t you?’

She knew it was coming. She knows what he is like. Gunnar and Malene had no idea. I should have acted, Iben tells herself. The phrase sticks. I should have acted. I should have acted.

From somewhere above her she hears Zigic parroting a woman’s voice, meant to be Iben’s. ‘Oh, dear! I think I’ll just run away from Mirko Zigic.’

She raises her head a little. He brings a heavy boot down on the back of her head.

Something cracks – like when a pair of poultry shears cut through a strong chicken thigh. Pain suddenly shoots into every part of her face. Iben screams in agony. In front of her eyes the pale, mottled surface turns a deep red.

Zigic kicks her in the side. ‘Shut up. I tried to be kind and take it easy on you. You didn’t want to cooperate, did you? You forced me to treat you differently.’

Nenad has spotted the computer. The open email with its attached file makes him whistle excitedly, which attracts Zigic’s attention.

Iben raises her head cautiously and turns it sideways to shift its weight from her broken nose. Now the coffee table is in her line of sight. She can see Nenad is talking and pointing to the screen, and Zigic is smiling, obviously pleased. The new position of her head slows the flow of blood to a steady drip. Iben watches the drops and tries to forget the pain by thinking ahead. Zigic will have to move his prisoners somewhere else, she thinks. Sooner or later Gunnar’s neighbours will call the police. And besides that, the police station will begin to worry about the lost radio contact with their men, who are probably lying dead downstairs.

Where will Zigic take them? Some secret place where he can hold them indefinitely. He will need to torture them until he
knows who might have seen the file or made copies of the disk. He will make the outside world seem utterly distant and meaningless to them. Will he want all three of them? Three prisoners are harder to control than two, or one. Will Zigic pick them out one by one to find out if they know anything, then kill them if they don’t? If he decides to get rid of someone right now, who will he choose?

Zigic lifts the laptop’s keyboard and fiddles with the small hard disk until it comes out. He puts it in the breast pocket of Nenad’s jacket and addresses him in Serbian.

Then he turns to his three captives. ‘OK, now I have one copy of the file. Where are the back-up copies?’

No one answers.

‘OK. Listen hard. If there turn out to be any other copies in existence after my visit to Denmark, then things will look bleak for you. Bleaker than you can imagine.’

Zigic is in no hurry to leave the flat. ‘Even if I can’t come back to kill you personally, someone else will. And don’t think it is just you who’ll die. Your families will die too and anyone close to you.’

This little speech sounds calm and considered. It is so tempting to think that once he has secured the files, all will be well.

‘Listen, if you want to get out of this, pray to God: “Dear God, please, please help us to remember to tell Mirko about every little thing. And please God, don’t let us make any tiny little mistake in anything we say to Mirko!” You get my message? You understand?’

‘Yes.’

Zigic has had enough. ‘Right. We’d better get out of here, but before we go, tell me this. Are there any more copies of the file kept anywhere else in this flat?’

‘No.’

‘Good. Next question. We are going to take you to a place we know. Is there anywhere we should stop off on the way, any other copies hiding elsewhere?’

Gunnar speaks up. ‘Yes. I have a copy in my office.’

Iben thinks this a very good idea. The reception at Gunnar’s office at the Ministry for Foreign Affairs is open around the clock and is well guarded. The building has long corridors, ideal for escape.

Zigic turns to him. ‘Is that so? At your office everyone will stay in the car, except for you and one of my men.’

He moves until his boots are immediately in front of Gunnar’s face. ‘And if you can’t produce a file, we’ll kill one of the girls. Immediately. This time, think carefully before answering. Is there a copy of the file in your office?’

‘No,’ Gunnar cries.

Iben is so disappointed in him. He has fallen into Zigic’s trap. It’s because he doesn’t dare not to trust the prison guard. Gunnar needs to believe in the only reassuring option, which is that they might survive if they cooperate.

Denim Suit has done the rounds of the flat. He returns with a broad grin on his face, waving a used condom, and Nenad joins him in fooling about with it. Denim Suit finally empties the contents over Malene’s head.

Iben wants to let Gunnar know he mustn’t worry about taking responsibility. ‘I have a back-up copy. I left it in the Ministry for Foreign Affairs for safe keeping.’

Zigic moves towards her and repeats his threat. ‘We’ll check. And remember, if it isn’t as you say, I’ll kill one of your friends. So it’s your turn to think carefully and answer me. Do you have a file copy in the Ministry?’

‘Yes.’

When Malene hears this, she gasps and shouts at Iben: ‘No, you don’t!’

Iben slips into Danish. ‘Malene, you’ve just killed me by saying that.’

‘What?’

‘He’ll kill me now. If I haven’t got a file he’ll kill me here. You’ve just told him to.’

Iben’s outburst makes Malene break down. She starts crying again.

Zigic kicks Iben. ‘You’re not to speak Danish. If you do, I’ll have your families killed.’

Malene tries to speak in English but is crying so hard she is incomprehensible. ‘But what else … Iben, oh, Iben … when they don’t find it, it’ll be me who …’

Zigic laughs. He walks towards Iben. Somehow, he draws his handgun. It is suddenly there, in his hand. It is the first time she has seen it. A little click as he releases the catch.

Gunnar speaks quickly. ‘Iben. That copy I gave you. Is that what you did? Deposited it in the Foreign Affairs Ministry?’

‘Yes.’

Zigic addresses Gunnar with condescending sarcasm. ‘Listen to you, no-balls. How interesting. I think I believe you.’

He bends over Iben, pushes the muzzle of the gun against the back of her head and slides it down until it digs into the hollow where the cranium meets the neck.

‘I believe you, Mister No-Balls.’ And he presses the trigger.

Her mind explodes. Gunnar. Malene. Evil. A future. A life. Omoro, who died. Rasmus, who died. Father, who died. A moment in Africa, when she stood on the back of a white pickup truck and decided that everything should be different from now on.

The blood under her cheek. The pool of blackening red is about to seep into her ear. She realises that there was no shot, no bullet in the chamber.

She looks up at Zigic. He’s still standing over her. She’s still lying at his feet.

Malene screams, a long howl, with her face pressed into the floorboards.

Zigic speaks quietly to Iben. ‘No such luck. Not this time. Maybe it will be second time lucky.’

Zigic orders them to get up.

Nenad turns to Iben, explains that he is going to clean the
blood off her face. Of course – her bloody face would make driving through central Copenhagen unnoticed quite a bit more difficult.

Nenad goes off to fetch a roll of paper towels and, in the meantime, Iben slumps down on the middle of the three armchairs. He returns, cleans her nose and cheeks, twists the paper up her nostrils and pushes. It hurts like hell, but Iben thinks how careful he is being. It’s a little like being a piece of fillet, lovingly marinated by a top chef, but knowing that seconds later, he might decide to carve you up or tenderise you with a mallet.

While he concentrates on her nose, Iben fumbles a little under the chair. And then she too is ready to leave.

The three Serbs stroll downstairs with the prisoners between them. Zigic is at their side, with Denim Suit scouting in front of them and Nenad following behind, keeping watch up the stairwell. They have been told to be silent and when Gunnar tries to catch Iben’s eye, Zigic knees him in the groin.

It has snowed. A thin powdery layer covers the dark, abandoned street.

An empty police car is pulled up on the white pavement outside Gunnar’s front door. Iben looks around for the bodies, but they are nowhere to be seen.

Zigic orders them to climb into a silver car parked nearby, Iben first. She is to sit in the back, with Malene on her lap. Gunnar is told to sit on the bulge in the middle of the back seat and direct the driver. Denim Suit sits next to him. Zigic gets into the driver’s seat and Nenad into the front passenger seat, so he can keep his gun trained on the prisoners.

Iben’s broken nose means that she cannot smell her friend, but they are so close it seems that she can taste her. The sweet, iron flavour of blood blends with the warm pressure of Malene’s body. It is the same familiar body she has hugged so many times, when they met or when something important happened.

Iben realises that Malene’s hand is trying to find hers. She responds, reaches out, despite all that has passed between them.
The car’s movements press Gunnar’s thigh against Iben’s, making her sense every slight vibration.

They cross the harbour canal on Knippel Bridge. One left turn to go. Zigic directs a question towards the back seat: ‘Tell me again. Is there a back-up copy at the Ministry?’

Gunnar and Iben both answer him: ‘There is.’

‘OK. And you know what happens if we don’t find it.’

‘Yes.’

The thin layer of fresh snow makes the streets and buildings look delicate. Iben’s face is close to her friend’s back. Once, when the car bumps, her nose hits Malene’s spine and it feels like being knocked out. The blood must have soaked through the paper twists, because now a red blob stains the pale blue material of Malene’s blouse.

Malene’s body is trembling and she is crying silently.

They park in the lot in front of the Ministry, a grand building that is almost completely dark. Two rows of street lamps cast a faint light on the snowy cobbled yard.

Zigic turns to Iben. ‘You. Are you ready to come in with me?’

Iben answers at once: ‘Yes.’

Maybe she sounded too eager. Zigic turns to Gunnar. ‘You know where it is too, right?’

‘Yes.’

‘And you’ve got a night pass to this place?’

‘Yes.’

‘Good. You should worry more about your pals than that bitch next to you. You come with me. And you know what happens if anything goes wrong? Anything at all?’

‘Yes.’ So it isn’t Iben who will have a chance to knife Zigic and flee from him in the long corridors of the Ministry. It is to be Gunnar. Unarmed.

Iben winks at him when he climbs out. It’s all she can do to try and tell him that he must feel free to do whatever he can, because when he returns to the car Iben and Malene will either be dead or gone.

Denim Suit gets out too. He starts pacing up and down restlessly away from the car. Perhaps he’s beginning to worry.

Malene moves to sit next to Iben. Nenad watches them. His gun looks different from anything Iben knows. Longer than other handguns, the muzzle cross-section is square and there is a bulge below the stock in front of the trigger.

He keeps an eye on them, but can’t see everything. Iben’s knife is hidden in her underwear, across her buttocks. She scratches her bum. The next moment she has the knife in her hand, hidden behind the back of the driver’s seat.

Malene sees it. Her face turns to stone, but she stays quite still.

Iben watches the pulse on Nenad’s neck. It beats in a slow rhythm. Da-dum. Da-dum. Da-dum. It is alive. Nenad’s life is there. She stares. Da-dum. Nenad is good at computers. He likes his coffee and biscuits. Nenad treated Iben’s nose with real care. There it is. That small beating thing, the spot that her knife must hit. Just there. And his life will be spurting out of him.

She leans forward, shifting the knife to her right hand behind the back of the driver’s seat. Her leg muscles stiffen in readiness to leap.

She waits. The best possible moment may not be now. Maybe it will never come. Maybe Denim Suit will return any second.

It might have been Malene’s quickened breathing that alerted Nenad, or the frightened look on her face. He moves over, craning to see. He will soon find out what Iben is hiding.

She throws her body across the small car and raises the knife with both hands. She plunges it in, straight into the life-sustaining pulse.

His blood sprays all over Iben and the car. His eyes roll up. His lips draw back over his teeth and his arms begin to shake. Still his eyes stare at her. Then slowly fade. He falls.

She grabs the gun from his lap. Denim Suit, who had been about ten metres away, must have heard something and runs back to the car. Iben doesn’t lower a window, just shoots at him
through the rear window. She only touches the trigger, but a volley of shots rings out. It is some kind of miniaturised machine gun.

Malene’s face is white. She might be about to faint. Iben shouts at her, ‘Get out! Out! Out!’

Iben shouts, ‘Run!’

Malene runs.

Iben searches Nenad’s pockets, but can’t find a spare car key. She’ll have to get out and run too.

She’s only gone a few steps when Zigic and Gunnar come out through the brightly lit main door of the Ministry. Zigic sees her. He doesn’t turn towards Gunnar, but thrusts the knife sideways with an instant backhand stroke. The blade is driven precisely into the centre of Gunnar’s chest and he slumps to the ground.

Malene has reached the other side of the short channel of dark water flowing between the complex of Ministry buildings and draining into the harbour canal. She shouts that she has seen a taxi. Iben runs after her, following the waterway.

She is in time to see the taxi on the far side of the Ministry compound. Despite Malene’s flailing arms and shouting, the cab drives off.

Zigic is closing in on her. It is the worst conceivable place for running. The cobbled quayside is deserted. Tall, dark warehouses on one side; on the other, the black, freezing water of the canal. Where can she hide? There is nothing. She runs on.

Zigic is fast. Iben turns to shoot at him, but after a short burst the magazine is already empty. It is much smaller than a real machine gun. She throws it into the snow and runs.