Thirteen, Fourteen ... Little boy unseen (Rebekka Franck Book 7)

  “True,” David said. He drank his soda.

  “Okay, so what do we know? The twins. The sister had identity issues,” I continued, and found the picture in my pocket. I stared at the young girl, who looked like she was trying to hide from the world behind her long hair. “According to the neighbors, she wanted to look like a boy. If she was transgender, the story doesn’t tell yet. But we know she was being bullied.”

  I paused and thought for a little while. I drew on a piece of paper and wrote the names of the people who had been killed. “She could have been one of Dr. Korner’s patients. We were told he had this program where they tried to help children.” I rubbed my forehead in frustration. “The pastor was against homosexuals. Maybe the killer is just killing people who are against homosexuals?”

  “Like a reverse hate crime?” David said.

  “Something like that. But where does Leonora fit into this category?”

  David leaned back in his chair with a sigh. “She’s clearly not a lesbian; she’s not anti-homosexual either. It makes no sense.”

  Sara served us coffee and cookies after lunch, and I started writing my article about the hardworking rising star in the law firm, and then another about how this serial killer now had killed a second person in the same firm. I wasn’t sure I was going to publish that one until I had confirmed that she was killed by the same killer, and I needed Sune to get that confirmation. Only he could give me access to the autopsy file.

  “Maybe she wasn’t killed by the serial killer after all?” I said, and looked at David. “What if Henrik Pedersen took advantage of all these killings and made a copy, so no one would suspect him?”

  “There would still be differences in the way it was performed,” David said. “Copycats can be accurate, but never completely the same. We need access to that file. You’re sure you can’t get ahold of Sune?” he asked.

  I looked at my phone. Not even a text from him all day. He had threatened to move out. Was that really what he had done? Was it that easy for him to simply cut me off?

  “I can try and call him,” I said.

  David nodded. “Tell him we really need him.”

  I sighed and picked up the phone. I found his name and pressed the button. It started ringing. I looked at Sara, who bit her lip with anxiety.

  “How are we on finding the twins?” I asked.

  “I’ve been in contact with thirty-three men with the name Hans Toft so far, but haven’t found the right one yet.”

  “Keep it up. I want to find this guy or his sister. At least to give them the picture.”

  “I will.”

  “Hello?”

  It was Sune. My heart stopped.

  “Rebekka?”

  “Hey, it’s me. Did I wake you up?”

  “At one in the afternoon? How old do you think I am?”

  “I’m sorry. You just sounded so tired, that’s all.”

  “Well, I’ve been busy all day searching for apartments. Guess I am tired. I didn’t sleep at all last night.”

  “Me either. Listen, I…”

  “Could you find background information on Henrik Pedersen?” David asked Sara in the background. Sune went quiet.

  Uh-oh.

  “Are you at the office? Was that David?”

  “Yes.”

  Sune took in a deep breath. “So, he’s replaced me completely, has he?”

  “I…I didn’t think you…”

  “No, that’s great. Thank you,” he said and hung up.

  51

  “SO, IS SUNE COMING?” Sara asked. She knew the answer right away when she saw my face.

  “Guess not,” she said, and sat down at her desk.

  I pushed back my tears. I was getting so tired of being sad and angry at Sune. I couldn’t do anything right in this, so maybe it was time to just move on.

  “I’ll just revise the article,” I said. “I’ll write that it isn’t confirmed yet that Leonora was killed by the same killer. But there’s still a story about two people being killed from the same firm. Jens-Ole will like that.”

  “What about this Kragh guy?” David said, tapping his pencil rhythmically on the table.

  “What about him?”

  David shrugged. “He has a motive for killing his partner and taking over the company, and for killing the girl, since he had slept with her through the years and now he wanted to get rid of her.”

  I shrugged too. “I guess it’s a motive, even if it’s a little farfetched.”

  “Maybe Leonora threatened to tell his wife? Maybe she was pregnant?” Sara said.

  “You watch way too many soaps,” I said, laughing. “I guess Hans Toft had a face transplant as well, so that’s why he could come back with a new identity and no one recognized him?”

  Sara chuckled. “It could happen, you know? I heard they do some very good ones in Sweden and South Korea.”

  I shook my head and returned to my screen while Sara’s phone rang. This was too far out even for me. I had to admit I liked the theory of the lawyer guy. I didn’t like him one bit from the moment I saw him. And he did have a motive. I wondered if the police had looked closely at him. Only Sune could help me answer that and…well, I wasn’t going to count on him anymore. I had to figure out a way to get my stories on my own, at least for now.

  “What about the fact that he was supposed to be a policeman?” I suddenly blurted out.

  David looked at me. Sara was busy chatting on the phone.

  “It was the theory in the beginning, remember?” I continued. “I even wrote an article telling how hard it was to get a hold of a real baton. That sure puts Henrik Pedersen in the hot seat, doesn’t it?”

  “I just got some info about him,” Sara said, and put the phone down.

  “He grew up here in Karrebaeksminde,” I said. “That much I know. He told me we went to the same school. We even lived on the same street.”

  “He did grow up here,” Sara said. “But so did I, and as you probably know by now, I know some people around here. I’ve asked around a little. And we have some mutual friends. One of them just called me back and told me that Henrik is well known in the gay circles around town. He is often seen at Pan’s. The town’s only gay bar.”

  I shook my head. “But that makes no sense. He was madly in love with Leonora?”

  “No. He’s not gay. But his sister is. A couple of years ago, she was the victim of an ugly hate crime that left her beaten half to death. It happened right after she had left the bar. Today, she lives in an institution for the handicapped. Henrik has since taken it upon himself to keep the streets and bars safe for the gays. He parades in there, wearing his uniform, every Friday and Saturday night. The bar likes to have him there. It makes the guests feel safe.”

  “Wow, that’s a sad story,” I said.

  “I know,” Sara replied.

  I looked at David. “Sure gives him motive, though.”

  “The best one we’ve seen yet.”

  “Let’s go talk to him. Feel him out a little,” I said, and grabbed my jacket.

  “With pleasure,” David said, and followed.

  52

  WE FOUND Henrik Pedersen at the police station downtown. He was sitting behind his desk with his legs up, drinking coffee, and playing candy crush. He smiled and sat up straight when he saw us.

  “Rebekka? What a great surprise.”

  “Well, we were just in the neighborhood and wanted to see how the investigation was going.” I looked at the screen. “I see you’re working hard.”

  Henrik Pedersen blushed and removed the game. “I was just on a little break. Besides, I’m not investigating, you know that. That’s not my field.”

  “I know. We were just thinking about the case with the five killings, and wondered if you had looked into the gay angle?”

  Henrik Pedersen looked perplexed. “What do you mean?”

  “The pastor was speaking out against homosexuals. The therapist had a program where they apparently thought they cou
ld turn kids away from being gay with the right influences. I don’t know the details, but something like that. The Toft couple had a daughter who was gay that they wouldn’t accept.”

  Henrik Pedersen nodded pensively. It looked like it was the first he’d heard of it. “I see. That is an interesting angle. But how does Leonora fit in that?”

  Bingo. So, Leonora was killed by the same killer.

  “That’s the only one that is unaccounted for. But it fits with the killer’s desire to dress up his victims like the opposite sex and mutilate the genitals to make them genderless, right?”

  Henrik Pedersen leaned back in his chair. “I…I don’t think anyone has thought of that.”

  “Really? Not even you, Officer Pedersen?”

  He shook his head. “No. Now, we’re not supposed to talk about the case with the press, but I’ll drop a word with the investigators about this. I don’t have to let them know where it came from. They need to know the connection.”

  He was a good actor.

  My eyes dropped to his belt. “So, you found your baton, I see?”

  “What? Oh, yeah. That day I didn’t bring it, I’d left it in my car. Silly me.”

  “Could I see it?”

  He stared at me like I had asked if I could marry his sister.

  “It’s just…well, I’ve never held one of those and I really wanted to feel it in my hands. I know it’s a little strange to ask.”

  Henrik Pedersen smiled. I could tell he liked me. I used it.

  “No. That’s okay.” He pulled out his baton and I held it in my hand.

  It was so much heavier than I had imagined. I tried to picture it hitting someone in the head.

  “Probably wouldn’t take more than one hit to knock someone out, huh?” I handed it back, and he put it on his belt.

  “That’s kind of the idea,” he said.

  “Of course it is. Have you ever used yours?” I asked.

  “It happens. When you have to separate people in a bar fight, for instance.”

  I stared at Officer Pedersen. I was scrutinizing him, trying hard to see if he was just a very good liar. I hated the fact that he seemed so sympathetic. He had, after all, made life a living hell for his ex-girlfriend. But then, he also acted as the homosexuals’ protector in the nightlife. Was he a superhero or a serial killer? I couldn’t decide. He was kind of creepy as well.

  “Anything else I can do for you two?” he asked.

  I looked at David, and then shook my head. “No, I think we’re done here.”

  “Well, give me a call sometime,” he said, and handed me his card.

  I stared at the card, then up at him. He blushed.

  “Just in case you come up with any new theories that we should take a look at,” he said with a shy smile.

  53

  I PICKED up the kids a little early that afternoon, thinking they deserved it, since I had been late so many times. We had tea in the kitchen with my dad and ate cookies. The mood around the table was low, and I tried to cheer them up by talking about how it would soon be spring, and then we were going to play in the yard again, maybe go out on one of our friend’s boats. But it didn’t seem to help. Besides, we all knew spring was months away, and darkness still reigned outside.

  “When do you think my dad will be back?” Tobias asked, looking so sad it almost hurt.

  I hated what this was doing to him, to all of them. William was fussing, and I let him down from his chair. “I don’t know, Tobias. I talked to him earlier, and he told me he was looking for a place for the two of you.”

  Julie let out a shriek. “What? They’re moving out?”

  “We don’t know yet, but yes, that might be the consequence. Sune and I aren’t getting along very well, and think that maybe a little time apart will help things get better.”

  Julie’s eyes filled up. “But…But…I love Sune. I love Tobias. I don’t want to live apart. What about William?”

  I put a hand on her shoulder to try and calm her down. “Take it easy, now. We’ll figure all those things out. Don’t you worry about any of it. You’ll still get to see Tobias. Maybe you can also go on weekends there when William goes. We’ll figure it out.”

  Julie was crying now. “I hate this!” she said, slamming her plate onto the table. “I hate you!”

  Then she stormed out of the kitchen and up the stairs. Tobias ran after her. I could hear their angry steps on the stairs.

  Damn you, Sune!

  I felt my dad’s hand on my shoulder. Now he was trying to comfort me.

  “Let her process it. She’s entitled to be angry for a little while. Then, go talk to her. She’ll be fine.”

  “I just hate doing this to her again. To them. It’s not fair.”

  “It’s not all your fault,” he said. “I must say, I find Sune a little cowardly for not being here when you broke the news.”

  “Well, he didn’t know,” I said. “I kind of just blurted it out. We haven’t talked it over yet. We don’t speak at all. He’s shutting me completely out, Dad. He won’t listen to anything I have to say. I had to tell them something, right?”

  My dad nodded and put his arm around my shoulder. “He’ll come around. Give him time. Sune is a good guy.”

  I sniffled and looked at my dad. What on earth would I ever do without him? Maybe I wasn’t staying in his house because he needed it as much as because I needed him?

  My phone vibrated in my pocket and I picked it up. My heart stopped.

  “It’s him,” I said.

  “Well, pick it up.”

  “Hello? Sune?” I said.

  “I found a place to stay. We’ll be able to move in next week. I’ll stay here till then, and Tobias can stay with you or come here to live with us. It’s up to you.”

  I sighed. My hands started shaking. It was suddenly so real. “So, that’s it, huh? Is it that easy for you to just leave us?”

  “You have yourself to thank for that, Rebekka. You kept pushing me out. I can’t be treated like a child for the rest of my life.”

  “You’re not even willing to talk it over? We miss you here. I miss you.”

  He sighed again. “I miss you too, Rebekka. Goddammit. You don’t make it easy. Hell, I love you, but…”

  “I love you too. Isn’t that worth working for? Come home, Sune. Let’s talk instead.” I wanted to say something about Jeppe and tell him the truth about what had happened in William’s bedroom, about how he had sent me those creepy texts…to make Sune understand, but I hesitated. I was so afraid he wouldn’t listen, that he would just get angry again.

  “I…I can’t…Not now at least. Now, do you want Tobias to stay with you or not? I know he’d prefer to live with you as long as possible. Besides, Jeppe’s place isn’t exactly suitable for children.”

  I hid my face in my hand and started crying. “Sure,” I said through tears. “He can stay as long as he wants.”

  54

  THE MAN was excited. Everything was going the way he wanted it to. Leonora was gone. Got what she deserved, the bitch. The newspapers were filled with pictures of her and packed with questions as to why anyone would kill someone like her.

  Such a beautiful young woman with such a promising career ahead of her. What a shame.

  He knew the journalist lady was onto him. That Rebekka Franck woman. She was close, but she wouldn’t be able to stop him. Not in time, at least.

  “So, what do you say, Alex?” he asked his reflection.

  “I’m so proud of you,” his reflection spoke back.

  The man smiled. It felt so good. Justice had served the people who had hurt them. He felt his baton on his belt. He liked holding it and took it out. He liked the weight of it. So much power in one little stick.

  The power of life and death.

  The man looked at the newspaper again, with Leonora’s picture on the front. He had kind of gotten to like seeing his work in the papers. It gave him a sense of satisfaction. Of being someone. He mattered. He had a cause, a
nd the people were going to understand his message. Not yet. Not now. But, one day, they would. When he had finished his work.

  The man touched his reflection. A tear left his eye. “I’m sorry, Alex. I’m sorry for everything that happened to you. I’m so sorry!”

  He grabbed the newspaper and held it up, so his reflection could see it. “You see? She got what she deserved. They all did.”

  The man sobbed, thinking about how unfair it had been, how badly everyone had treated his sister while growing up. He could hear her screaming inside his head, and held his hands to his ears to block it out.

  I’m not a girl! I don’t want to be a girl. I want to shave. I want to shoot guns. I want to cut my hair. Why won’t they let me be who I am? Just leave me alone!

  He remembered the day when she had dressed up in their father’s suit after school and put her hair up under a hat, just as their father had walked in. Oh, how he remembered it. How their father had grabbed Alex in his arms and thrown her in the bathroom, where he had stripped her down and tied her hands with his belt, then beat the crap out of her with the whip that the pastor had given them. Alex had screamed and cried.

  “I’m a boy! I’m a boy!”

  Four hours the man had listened to his sister being beaten and screaming. Until she suddenly went quiet and their father came out of the bathroom, all sweating and red in the face. He had caught a glimpse of his sister inside the bathroom, her back striped in blood. The anger he had felt towards his parents at that instant filled him with such hatred he would never look at them the same way he used to again. That night, in their bedroom, while stroking his sister’s hair to make her fall asleep, he swore they would one day pay for what they had done. They had made a pact back then, the two of them. A pact to get out of there, to escape before their parents drove them crazy. Before it was too late. The man had saved his money from being a newspaper boy. He had put it all away in a shoebox. Along with all the birthday money and the money he had saved up from the tooth fairy; they could get by for a little while. It had to work. It simply had to. It was their only chance.