The Killing Forest (12 page)

T
hey found her. They found her! Sune felt as if he were about to explode.

The last few days he had watched the police cars from his hiding place; he'd heard their dogs, listened to them yelling. They had dug all over, and the earth from several of the old orphanage graves lay in uneven, coal-black mounds.

He'd stood hidden among the trees as two men in white coveralls unfolded a body bag. Even at a distance, he recognized her long, blond hair when they laid her in and zipped it up. They'd carried her back to the car with the tinted windows.

Now the police were finally gone, and he scampered back across the forest floor, away from the clearing and the dug-up graves. His heart hammered, and he felt dizzy from blood rushing through his temples. He'd been right all along. Deep inside he had hoped that he'd imagined it all, that he had been scared for no reason. But he'd seen her in the light of the bonfire, lying on the ground, so still.

The moon's pale light cast ghostly shadows around Sune, but he wasn't afraid of trees or dark forests. Nothing in nature unsettled him. It was all the other things.

He stopped to catch his breath, but he whirled around when he heard limbs cracking behind him, then the sound of heavy footsteps. He hadn't been paying attention, and he was about to run when he recognized his father's voice in the darkness.

“Wait! You have to listen to me. Your mother wants to see you!”

Thoughts flew through his head. His desperate flight. Punishment, the oath ring. His legs wanted to run, but his craving to see his mother stopped them. His heart beat so loudly that it would have scared the forest birds away if they hadn't already gone to roost. Now he and his father were alone.

“Sune.” His father approached him with open arms; it felt like a magnet to Sune, yet he kept his distance. His father's arms sank.

“The police came by asking about you. I had a tough time figuring out what to say. People think you've taken your life. They're talking about you.”

Sune didn't know what to say, either. He wanted this to end. His father seemed completely different from the night he had hissed in Sune's ear to pull himself together; to not shame him.

“Your mother's doing badly, and she's terribly upset. Come home for her sake, and we can work everything else out. You're a grown boy now—you have responsibilities.”

“I'm not coming home,” he whispered, unable to control his voice.

“You have to. I can't take care of you out here.”

“I can take care of myself,” Sune said, more self-assured now.

“Not anymore you can't. It's too dangerous. Come home with me, and swear on the oath ring. You're born into this; there's nothing to do about it.”

For a moment they stood in the clear moonlight, staring at each other. Then Sune shook his head; he realized what his father was after, and it had nothing to do with his mom.

“I'm trying to help you. You're one of us; we'll take care of you.”

Sune could almost see the bonds of the Asatro his father wanted to bind him with. They tightened, cutting into him, snarling like the worm that wrapped itself around Midgård and bit its own tail. But then his father's shoulders seemed to sink again as his expression loosened. He sighed.

“Don't decide right now. Why don't I come back tomorrow? But I have to tell you that if you still say no, you're on your own. Completely. Like a child who hasn't been knee-sat.”

Sune understood what that meant. A baby who hasn't been knee-sat belongs to no one. It could be abandoned to the wolves if the parents felt unable to take care of it. Sune had been knee-sat at the ceremony where he was given his name and his parents had officially accepted him. He'd been very young back then; he didn't remember. But no one had told him that the acceptance could be revoked.

“Tomorrow evening after sunset at the sacrificial oak,” his father said. “I'm holding the door open for you, but if you don't come in I can't protect you any longer.”

He turned and left.

H
ave you moved your unit out of the station, or what?” Olle asked when Louise met him in the hall Monday morning.

She was about to say that they'd been in during the weekend, but instead she explained that they were assisting Roskilde; that now they had three persons to identify. He asked if it was Nymand's case, and she nodded.

“Rønholt talked about it at the morning briefing,” Olle said. “He said they found three double graves and to expect that they'd need our help. We might have to contact Interpol and search their database for wanted persons.”

“I wouldn't doubt it,” Louise said. “Nymand is twisting arms and the pathologists are going to examine all three corpses this morning. As soon as we have the teeth, we'll start working on identification. There's more to go on with the most recent corpse; she had two tattoos and we've got the photographs. I'll gather everything up and bring it to the briefing.”

She smiled at her colleague and hurried down the hall to the Rathole.

“I'm guessing you'd rather drink your own tea,” Eik said when he came in five minutes later. He set a tray down on his desk and pushed a plate with two rolls over to her.

Louise was surprised by the mountain of sandwiches on his plate. Two slices of bread with cheese and four liver pâté sandwiches.

“Looks like the fresh country air gave you an appetite,” she said. But when he began scraping off the pickles and aspic from the four sandwiches, she realized what was going on.

“You're not. You're not feeding him that!” She looked down at the German shepherd, who was staring up at the source of all that aroma. “He'll fart all day and drive us out of the room.”

“Take it easy. I'll go over to Netto later and buy dog food,” Eik promised. He set the plate down on the floor.

Louise sighed. She knew who would have to stop by the vet and pick up some decent food for Charlie. But before she could say anything more, Olle knocked on the door and stuck his head in. He eyed the dog nervously.

“Take a look at these photos.” He held out a folder. “It's a twenty-four-year-old woman from TÃ¥rnby. Her sister reported her missing about three weeks ago. She has a little boy; she disappeared the night before his third birthday. And she has two tattoos.”

It was Station City's case, and the young woman was a prostitute. Presumably, it hadn't been given a high priority, Louise thought. Normally the police stalled on a missing person case anyway, as people often turned up by themselves.

“Lisa Maria Nielsen,” she read out loud.

“When exactly did she disappear?” Eik asked. He brushed the crumbs off his T-shirt.

“May thirty-first or June first,” she said. She cocked her head and thought a moment. “The same time as the boy.”

She turned to Olle. “Can I keep this for a while? We need to be sure, of course, but thanks, Olle.”

He left, and Eik asked her to read it out loud.

“Lisa Maria has a young son. He turned three on June first, and he's the reason her sister reported it at once when she didn't come home. Lisa would never willingly be gone on her son's birthday. He meant everything to her. She had invited his friends from the day care for a birthday party, with sandwiches and a birthday cake. Her sister was to have taken care of that. It was difficult for her to explain to her nephew where his mother was.”

“Unfortunately, it happens in that profession,” Eik mumbled. “Who's taking care of the boy?”

“Her sister. They shared one floor of a house. She has a four-year-old daughter.”

For a moment she studied the photos of Lisa Maria that her sister had given the police. Louise recognized both tattoos. She called Olle.

“Get hold of the sister and make arrangements for an identification. I don't know how soon Forensics can have the body ready. Try Flemming Larsen. He was on duty this weekend; he was there when the bodies came in.”

She hung up and pushed the folder over to Eik. Then she opened the green folder she'd started on Sune Frandsen and looked it over. “They've been missing within the same time period.”

“But we don't know if they disappeared in the same area,” Eik pointed out. He tossed the last half of his cheese sandwich down on the floor.

“Stop that, you're going to make him sick,” she said. “It's true, we don't know that, but she was buried where he's hiding.”

“So you're thinking, he might've seen something?” He nodded. “And that could be the reason he's hiding. He witnessed a crime and doesn't dare come home. What do you think?”

The pieces were falling into place. “He might have been the one who killed her!” Louise said. Murderer or witness to a murder. Two good reasons to go into hiding.

“It's a possibility. But he's fifteen years old. Could he do it?”

“He might've seen something that scared him out of his senses; he could have reacted like a wounded animal.”

“Teenagers disappear every day,” he reminded her.

She nodded. Normally the search for teenagers was intensive at first. Police dragged lakes, searched often-used routes, checked debit card usage, and if nothing showed up, later on they would check Freetown Christiania—a haven for quirky and troubled characters, who could find refuge and a place to hide from the authorities—and then youth houses. Often the latter steps would be unnecessary when hunger set in and the comforts of home became too inviting. When the smell of their own bodies became too much.

“The pattern just doesn't fit here,” she said.

“We have to look into it,” Eik conceded. He asked if it was true that the father said he was going to look for his son, now that they knew approximately where he was hiding.

Louise nodded. “He promised to call if he found him. Anyway, I'm calling Nymand. If the boy can be connected with this killing, it's his case.”

Louise was put through to the deputy commissioner. She told him that they likely had identified the young woman and added that Sune Frandsen had been hiding in the forest since the day Lisa Maria disappeared.

She summed both cases up for him and gave him the number of the missing person case concerning Sune, so he could see a photo of him.

Nymand decided to instigate a search for the boy in the area. “If he's there, we'll find him. But if he has nothing to do with my case, we don't have time to run around looking for runaway teenagers for you.”

“Of course,” Louise said. Odd, she thought, that his ridiculous remark hadn't angered her. She must be tired.

“I'll call the father and let him know that Roskilde is organizing a search,” Eik said.

Louise took a bite of the roll, but the dry bread clogged her throat. She was hungry, though. She unwrapped a block of butter, spread a thick layer onto the bread, and attacked it. By the time Eik had finished talking, she'd cleaned off her plate.

“Tell Nymand to cancel. Sune is back home.”

“And that idiot didn't even call?” Exhausted or not, Louise was furious.

“He kept apologizing, said it was very emotional when the boy was reunited with his mother. They needed some time alone, and he just forgot about calling. Apparently the boy is already back at school, but that sounds really strange. I mean, he's been gone three weeks!”

“That's how it is in a small town,” Louise said. She shrugged sadly. “Everything has to get ‘back to normal' as soon as possible.”

Eik shook his head. “You'd hope that somebody will look in on the boy, check to see how he's doing. Is that how it works there, or is it just more convenient to forget about it?”

That last remark sounded like an accusation against Louise. “He'll be checked on. By us. Before we cancel the search and close the case, we're driving over to talk to him. I want to know why he hid for three weeks in the forest. And when we're done, we'll make sure someone keeps an eye on him.”

“Shouldn't we do that now?” Eik laid his palms on his desk, as if he was about to stand up.

“You mean, while he's in school?”

He nodded. “Wouldn't it be easier for him to tell us why he didn't want to go home if his parents aren't around?”

Of course, Louise thought. An adult would have to be present, but they could find a schoolteacher or perhaps an administrator.

“Let's go,” she said. She was on her feet.

W
hen they drove past the lake, Louise realized she hadn't been inside Hvalsø School since she'd graduated from ninth grade. School had practically been her whole life back then. It had ended so abruptly. But why should she have come back? After you graduate, there's no reason to return.

She did remember her way around. She directed Eik to park in front of the auditorium, and they walked past the bicycle sheds. It was a shortcut, plus they wouldn't have to use the main entrance. But they would have to go through the cafeteria, where curious eyes would follow them all the way to the principal's office.

The sense of being in familiar territory slowly faded when she discovered that the cafeteria wasn't there anymore. And of course she realized Mother Ellen wouldn't be selling sandwiches and candy to the older students. She actually felt a bit indignant over all the changes in her old school.

They explained to the woman in the secretary's office that they wanted to speak to Sune Frandsen, and they were sorry it had to be during classes, seeing that he had just returned to school.

The secretary looked surprised, but she recovered quickly and smiled. “I wasn't aware he was back. That's so nice to hear. He's a very sweet boy, and no one could understand why he would do such a thing. To take his own life…” She seemed upset suddenly. “No child or young person—no one at all—should be able to go so far. Oh dear. Well, if you'll have a seat, I'll bring him in a moment.”

She pointed at two chairs under a wide photograph of the school. Gray cement, rust-red square windows. A long line of students stood in front of the school. Louise remembered when that picture had been taken. In fact, she was in it somewhere.

The principal came out of his office. They introduced themselves and nodded when he said that he'd been hoping this regrettable case would have a happy ending.

“Last week we held an assembly for ninth-grade classes. We talked to them about how life can be difficult and confusing; how sometimes you just want to give up.”

The secretary returned, accompanied by Sune's class teacher.

“Who told you that Sune was in school?” The teacher looked back and forth at Louise and Eik. “Because he's not. His classmates haven't seen him, either. Who told you that?”

“We've just spoken with his father,” Eik said. “He said that Sune had started school again.”

The teacher was visibly upset. “I've talked about it several times. We should contact social services and find out what's going on in that home. But no one does anything. I've called the district, tried to convince them to visit the parents. Nothing happens. It's not so strange that things like what happened in Tønder and Mern take place—no one has the time anymore to protect the interests of children. It's all about money, passing the buck to someone else, taking on less yourself.”

“Easy now, I think we should…” The principal sputtered, then recovered. “I'll call his parents and see what they have to say.”

“I'm not saying this is a case of abuse or neglect,” the teacher said. “But when a fifteen-year-old boy vanishes into thin air this way, something is very wrong. I've said so from the beginning, and even when he showed up on that photo, no one wanted to listen.”

“We've done nothing but work on this case, ever since you pointed out that newspaper photo to the police in Holbæk,” Eik said, and stood up. He was a head taller than Sune's teacher. Ordinarily this cop in black clothes and leather jacket, his longish hair combed back, didn't look threatening. But he was annoyed. “There's no certainty that the family is in any way at fault. But we suspect that Sune might have witnessed a serious crime. That could be why he's hiding. We can't really fault the family for that.”

Louise watched the young schoolteacher retreat.

“Could he be in danger?” the principal asked.

“Possibly,” Louise admitted. She emphasized that they very much wanted to talk to Sune. “If he does show up, please call us at once. We're going to pay a visit to his parents. Hopefully, we'll find him there.”

On the way out, she glanced once more at the school photograph. Klaus had to be somewhere in it, too.