Nine, Ten ... Never Sleep Again (19 page)

48
July
2011

Anna tried hard
to
hold back her tears. She was sitting outside
Michael's office waiting for him while his secretary was on the phone. She
looked down at the 60GB memory stick in her hand that she so sincerely hoped
would help save the life of her beloved son.

Valdemar had gotten a lot worse just in the last
month, since Anna had received the news from the doctor and waited to gather
the courage to face Michael for the first time since the day he left to be with
his other family.

Back then, he had offered to help them
financially, but Anna had refused to take any of his money. And, up until now,
they had done fine without him; to be frank, life had been much easier without
him. It was only the hurt in her son's eyes that reminded her that Michael had
once been in her life. Back when he left, she had thought she would never see
him again, especially never be asking anything from him again.

It was like life was laughing at her right now.
It was the cruel irony of destiny that she now had to beg him for something
again. It felt so humiliating, so demeaning.

Anna took in a deep breath to calm herself down.
When she was about to leave the house, she went upstairs to say goodbye to
Valdemar who had spent most of the week in bed. He was lying on his back
coughing heavily as she entered. She kneeled next to him fighting her tears.

"I'm leaving now, sweetie. Wish me
luck."

Valdemar had tried to laugh, but it ended in
another cough attack. The doctor had told them he only had ten percent of his
lung capacity left now. Valdemar looked at her while breathing heavily. Oh, how
she hated that sound, that wheezing, hissing sound he made when he gasped for
air. All night she would lie awake listening to him in the room next door,
worrying about him, thinking at least he was still breathing and fearing the
day the sound stopped and all she would wish was for it to start again.

"Why are you going there anyway? It's a
waste of your time," Valdemar said, out of breath. He paused and took in a
deep breath. "He's not going to say yes. What has he ever done for
us?"

"I know it's a long shot. But, he is, after
all, your father. I loved him once, remember? Enough to marry him, enough to
have a child with him."

Valdemar coughed and wheezed. "He's a
worthless bastard, that's what he is."

"I know, sweetie. But he's our only hope
right now."

Valdemar breathed with trouble. His nostrils
moved when he breathed in air. "I have something I want you to bring to
him," he said. "I want you to show him my game." Valdemar held
up a memory stick in the air with his toes and handed it to Anna.

Anna looked at her boy and stroked his hair
gently. Her handsome, sweet boy. All he ever wanted in life was for his daddy
to accept him, to love him. Still now, as a teenager, sick with a deadly
disease, that was all he could think about.

"It's all on this. Promise me you'll show
it to him, will you?"

"Of course, sweetie." Anna leaned over
and kissed his forehead. "I promise you I will."

Valdemar closed his eyes to rest. Anna stayed
and watched him breathe. A tear fell from the corner of her eye and rolled
across her cheek. Oh how she wished she could just give him both of her lungs.
She had pleaded with the doctor to take hers and give them to him, but the
doctor had said it wasn't legal, that she would die. Anna had said it didn't
matter, but still, the doctor refused.

"Mr. Jacobsen is ready for you now, Mrs.
Kragh," the secretary said and pulled Anna out of her reverie.

"Thank you," Anna said and walked
towards the door. With a deep breath she put her hand on the handle and pulled
it down.

Michael wasn't even looking up when she entered.

"Hello Michael," she said.

49
August
2012

Karl Persson
was still
grinning when Henrik closed the lid of the
laptop.

"So, aren't you proud?" he asked and
pointed at the TV where they were still talking about the death of Barbara
Rasmussen. "You're all over the news. Gives quite the kick, doesn't
it?"

Henrik shrugged and put the laptop away. "I
guess."

"Aw, come on. Don't be so modest. I know
how it feels. Usually I make sure no one ever finds the bodies, but it happened
to me once that my kill made the news. I remember feeling like the king of the
world. The entire country was appalled by what I had done. Everybody was
talking about the dismembered body of a teenage girl that had been found in a
dumpster. Chopped into small pieces. The public ate it all raw. Fascinated and
repulsed at the same time, they were all glued to the TV. That was back in the
late eighties, back when a killing like that was a huge thing and would be in
the news for weeks. Nowadays, it drowns in all the other bad stuff. You'll have
to do some real nasty stuff to impress the news. Like the organ story. That's
new. Never been seen before. I tell you, this Bill Durgin is a genius."

Infuriated by Karl's last sentence, Henrik
stared at the screen. A reporter was talking to the anchor while yellow signs
were flashing in the bottom
BREAKING NEWS - Woman
killed in her home by the organ thieves last night
.

Henrik didn't care one bit about all this. All
he kept wondering was how he was going to get out of this apartment alive. This
lunatic was dangerous and, right now, planning on killing him and chopping him
into pieces. Henrik looked around and saw no knives or other deathly weapons.
Karl was still grinning like someone who had just won the lottery.

"We should celebrate your newfound fame,"
Karl said and went into the kitchen.

Henrik looked at the front door and wondered if
he should just make a run for it. But where was he going? He looked around the
small basement. He could also choose to stick around for a while.

"I have beer," Karl said and showed up
carrying a six-pack. He handed one to Henrik.

"Cheers," Henrik said.

They drank. Karl emptied his, but Henrik only
took a small sip. He still felt sick from yesterday's drinking and he wanted to
stay alert.

"So, are you hungry?" Karl asked when
he was done with his beer. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"A little," Henrik answered.

Karl smiled from ear to ear. "Me too."
He stared at Henrik, like he was sizing him up. "I thought I might chop
something up for us. Make a stew or something. One of those that need to simmer
for hours in a delicious sauce. What do you say?"

Henrik took another sip of his beer. It tasted
suddenly strange and he wondered if Karl had put something in it. Or was he
just imagining things? Was Karl staring at him with lust in his eyes? Lust for
the kill? Was it really him that he had written about in the chat or could it
be someone else? Could it have been an old message?

Of course it was you, you
idiot. Don't be a fool.

Henrik smiled. "I say it sure sounds great.
What kind of stew?"

"I was thinking either heart in crème
sauce, or I could do something completely different, how about pan fried liver,
or kidney flambé? I once made boiled, smoked tongue, now that was really
something. What do you think?”

“I think it all sounds very delicious. It’s hard
to choose really. I’m fine with any of it,” Henrik said. His hands were
sweating. It was hard to hold on to the beer. “Or we could just call for a
pizza?”

“Oh, but that's so boring, now isn't it? So
ordinary," Karl said and took a step forward.

Henrik nodded and pulled back. "I
guess."

"So, what'll be then?" Karl asked.
"The guest decides."

"I'm really not that hungry anymore."

"Oh, that's a shame. Good thing that I've
been known to have an appetite for two then."

Henrik was sweating heavily and had clammy
hands. Karl was approaching him slowly now, looking at him like he was studying
him closely.

"You know, I did wonder for a long time
what to do with a man once I killed him," he said. "I mean, women I
know how to handle. I rape them, then kill them. But why kill a man I kept
asking myself? Besides the rush of the kill, what will I get out of it? Last
night, I kept wondering and wondering until I came up with the idea. Why not
COOK them?"

As Karl spoke the last words, he jumped towards
Henrik and grabbed him around his neck with both hands and started squeezing.
Henrik gasped for air and tried to fight Karl off. He took the bottle in his
hand and hit it hard against Karl's head until it shattered. Karl cursed and let
go of Henrik, who was now standing with a broken bottle in his hand. Karl was
holding a hand to his head when Henrik swung the broken bottle towards his face
and cut him. Karl screamed, then tried to punch Henrik, but Henrik grabbed his
fist mid-air, and bent it backwards, until Karl screamed. Henrik stared at the
squirming Karl who was bleeding from his face. Henrik was breathing heavily and
feeling the anger rising in him again. It felt incredible.
He
was like the incredible Hulk, bending
Karl's arm backwards, till he heard it crack and Karl screamed in pain. When
Henrik let go of the arm again, it was dangling from Karl's shoulder, the
cracked bone poking out through the skin. Now it was Henrik who was grinning as
he approached Karl puffing himself up like the Hulk, feeling how the anger
allowed his muscles to grow and his strength to increase.

As he lifted his fist and punched Karl hard in
the face again and again, knocking out teeth and breaking his lip, he realized
that Karl had been absolutely right.

Henrik did get a kick out of killing people. It
was his fix and from now on he would never be able to live without it again.

50
August
2012

I was stunned.
Heartbroken beyond speech as I drove with Julie back to the island. The winds
had picked up a lot now and leaves were flying everywhere, even branches kept
falling from the trees as we passed them. On the radio, they kept talking about
the storm that was supposed to approach tonight and sweep across the country
during the next couple of days. They expected roads to be closed due to falling
trees and possible flooding and asked people to stay inside and only go out if
absolutely necessary.

The trip across the lake was nasty with the
churning water, but we made it to the dock and walked across the island towards
the big mansion with our clothes flying in all directions.

"Mommy I'm scared," Julie shrieked,
when the wind pushed her sideways. I grabbed her hand and pulled her closer. I
held her tight and helped her push her way against the strong wind. When we
were closer to the house, Peter came storming out and grabbed the both of us
and helped us get back inside.

"I saw you from the window," he said.
"You should have called me and told me you were on your way back. I had no
idea you were out in this horrible weather."

I took off my jacket and put my bag on a table.
I had no idea what to say to him or to anyone for that matter. I still had a
hard time comprehending that Sune never wanted to see me again and that my
daughter had been deprived of her best friend. I was heartbroken, to put it
mildly.

"Are you okay?" Peter asked as he
tucked my hair behind my ear. "Is Sune alright?"

"Sune is fine," I said feeling the
tears press from behind my eyes. Peter saw it and pulled me close. He hugged me
for a little while and it felt really good. I wanted so badly to cry, but
didn't want the questions that were bound to follow. I simply couldn't tell
Peter why I was this upset. It would hurt him. I wondered what to do next and
felt so hopeless.

What about the baby? What if
it is Sune's?

"Let's go get some hot chocolate,"
Peter said. He looked at Julie who nodded with a smile.

"That sounds great," I said.

We went into the kitchen and sat at the table
while Peter made the hot chocolate for us. I enjoyed watching him in the kitchen.

"So Sune is going to be alright?"
Peter asked.

"That's what the doctors say, yes," I
said.

"And then they're moving," Julie said.
"It's so unfair."

Peter looked at me. "They're moving?"

"Yes. Sune told me they're leaving
Karrebaeksminde as soon as he gets back. He told me he will be leaving the
paper as well. Guess he wants to move on."

"Well that is great news," Peter said.

"No it's not," Julie said.

"Try to hide your enthusiasm just a little,
Peter," I said.

"No, of course it's not great that you're
losing your best friend, sweetie," he said and served the hot chocolate
for us. He put whipped cream on top. "But you'll make a lot of new friends
soon."

"Not one like Tobias," Julie said.

"No, but another one. Maybe even a better
one, right? Maybe a little girl who likes horses just like you?" Peter
tried again. He sat next to Julie while I sipped my cocoa, hoping it would help
cure my sadness. "Look at it this way," Peter said. "When we get
back, you have a lot to look forward to. Your mom and dad will probably move in
together again and you'll get your family back."

Julie smiled and leaned her head on her dad's
shoulder. "I would like that," she said. "But what about
grandpa? Who's going to take care of him?"

"We'll hire a nurse," Peter said.

That's your answer to
everything, isn't it Peter? Just hire someone to fix it.

"We will visit him all the time," I
said. "And we'll find a house close by."

"Yeah. But who am I going to play
with?" Julie said. "I loved to play with Tobias."

Peter looked at me and smiled, then he looked
back at Julie. "Well your mom and I just might have an answer for that
too," he said. "See, right now your mommy is carrying a little
brother or little sister in her stomach and when he or she comes out, you'll
always have someone to play with. Isn't it wonderful?"

I spurted out a mouthful of hot cocoa on the
table.

"We're having a baby?" Julie shrieked.

Peter smiled and nodded.

I stared at him.

"What?" He asked. "I found your
pregnancy test in the garbage in the bathroom. We had to tell her at some
point. This seemed like the perfect time."

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