Nine, Ten ... Never sleep again (Rebekka Franck #5)

  "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 w
ith. 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."

  51

  July 2011

  "What a surprise to see you here," Michael said. "What can I do for you?"

  Anna sighed. The nervousness and anxiety made her stomach hurt. She looked into Michael's eyes, looking to see if she could spot the man she had once loved and who had loved her.

  "Valdemar is sick."

  Michael shrugged. "So take him to the doctor."

  "No not like that. He is really sick. Seriously ill. He has Cystic Fibrosis."

  "So what?" Michael said and looked down at his papers. "Listen, I'm really busy these days. In case you haven't heard, our company is in big financial trouble, the economic crisis has made people stop buying toys for their kids. We need something major to pick us up. I have to go through all these new products to find that one thing, that one big bestseller that can help us get back on top. If I don't, I'm fired. So you can understand why I'm trying to have you get to the point here. What is it you want from me?"

  "I want a part of your lung," Anna said.

  Michael dropped his paper. Now she had his attention. "You want what from me exactly?"

  "Valdemar needs a lung transplant or he'll die. His lungs are below ten percent in capacity as it is. And it's going downhill fast now, the doctor says. He keep getting infections and the doctor says he won't be able to pull himself through them for much longer. His body simply can't keep fighting them. So he needs new lungs. They need two donors. I'll be one and I'm asking you to be the other. They won't take your entire lung, just a part of it, or a lobe as they call it. I'm no expert but I know a person has five lobes and they'll only be taking one out. One from you and one from me. You'll naturally have to undergo a series of medical and psychological tests first."

  Michael stared at Anna like she was insane. "This is a joke, right? This is you getting back at me for leaving you, right?"

  Anna shook her head. "No. I'm serious here Michael. Valdemar will die if we don't help him."

  Michael exhaled and leaned back in his leather chair. He was quiet for a long time, while a million thoughts ran through Anna's mind.

  Come on, Michael. Step up for once. Show the boy you're not a bastard. Be human for once.

  Michael looked at Anna. He shook his head and leaned forward.

  "Michael. This is important. This is a matter of life or death for our son. Don't you dare …"

  But it was too late. Michael had made up his mind. Anna could see the determination in his eyes. They had the same cruelty to them as they had on the day he saw Valdemar for the first time in the hospital. "The boy was a mistake from the beginning, Anna. You know how I feel about him. Maybe this is just nature's way of sparing him a horrible life. You know he will never be able to do any of what other kids do. He will never be able to live a normal life. Who would hire him? Who would marry him, huh? A sick man with no arms? Do you think he is going to provide grandchildren for you, huh? How should he be able to do that? Who would want to be with him? Is he going to live with you for the rest of his life?"

  Anna couldn't believe what he was saying. The cruelty, the heartlessness. It was unbearable. "What are you saying, Michael?"

  "I'm saying, I think it is for the best if he dies. I know it's going to sound cold-hearted, but that's how I feel. It would give you a chance to finally move on. You've been stuck with him for way too long. He was never meant to live, Anna."

  "How can you be so cruel?"

  "Nobody likes to hear the truth, but that's all it is. The boy is useless."

  Anna lifted her hand and threw the memory stick on the desk. "You see this? On this memory stick is a game, a computer game that Valdemar has created for the sole purpose of impressing you. And that's just one thing. Our house is packed with inventions made by him. I tell you Michael, the boy is a genius. He is NOT useless. He is brilliant, and if you can't see that then you're fucking blind."

  Anna was standing in front of Michael's desk now, snorting in anger. When she saw no change in Michael's eyes, she turned around and left. Through the open door to his office, Anna heard Michael yell:

  "It's the best for him, Anna. I'm doing him a favor don't you see?"

  52

  August 2012

  Hours had passed. There was blood all over the floor. Henrik even had it on his face and all over his clothes from beating Karl. Now, he wasn't moving anymore and Henrik took a break. Panting, he blew on his hand, which was sore from the beating. He looked at Karl who still wasn't moving and realized he wasn't breathing either.

  Henrik shrugged, then went into the kitchen and found a big knife. He started cutting Karl open and took out his organs, one after another, making it look like organ thieves once again, in case they found his body. Then he found some black garbage bags and put all the organs inside of it. He tried to cut off the right arm, but it was way too hard and the knife wasn’t sharp enough. How Karl had been able to chop his victims into pieces, Henrik didn't understand.

  But it wasn't his thing, he discovered. It was way too difficult. Instead he put the remains of Karl on the rug and rolled him inside of it. He really didn't care what happened to Karl's body, but he didn't want to leave it in the basement, since Henrik was planning on crashing there for a couple more nights.

  So, Henrik pulled the rug into a small closet where he placed it leaning against the wall and placed the black bag of organs next to it, then closed the door and locked it.

  There. Out of sight out of mind.

  Henrik took a shower and put on some of Karl's clothes. Luckily, they were almost the same size. He looked at himself in the mirror and thought he could easily be mistaken for Karl. Henrik went back into the living room and looked at the old laptop on the coffee table. Then he picked it up. Karl was still logged into the chat room and someone had written to him.

  Karl are you there? The one called Andreyer had asked half an hour ago.

  Henrik smiled to himself, then wrote. Yes. I'm still here.

  A few minutes passed before there was another reply. Did you make your kill?

  Henrik chuckled as he wrote: I did.

  How do you feel? Was it good?

  It was amazing. Much better than expected.

  Henrik found a new beer and sat down on the couch with the TV still on in the corner of the basement. Some British series was showing. He looked at the screen and waited for an answer.

  Suddenly, a small line on the screen said Bill Durgin joined the chat. Henrik almost choked on his beer and sat up straight. Bill Durgin. This was the one he was looking for. He was the one who had taken the organs, Karl had said. Was he the one who had taken Henrik's as well? Karl had said he was the only one doing this, but that would mean Henrik had killed those girls in vain?

  Well not in vain. They were stupid bitches who no one was going to miss anyway. But, he was willing to admit that maybe they hadn't been a part of some greater feminist conspiracy after all. That much he would give them. But they deserved to die. Just like Karl deserved to be killed. Henrik was still doing the world a favor. He was still a hero, of sorts. Not one who would ever be honored for his accomplishments. No, as a matter of fact, he was a little like the incredible Hulk. Misunderstood, but still a hero. And so what if he accidentally killed a few innocent people along the way? The end justified the means after all, didn't it? Well, something like that. Henrik didn't feel guilty or bad for killing the girls. He was way beyond feelings like that. Killing them had made him feel better and killing Karl had been the best sensation he ever had. That justified anything, in his mind.

  What's up, Bill? He wrote. Chosen a new victim yet?

  Seconds passed by while Henrik finished his b
eer. Finally the curser blinked and Bill wrote:

  Looking at him as we speak. He's eating Soft Tofu soup.

  53

  August 2012

  I was furious with Peter and ran upstairs, pretending to have to go to the bathroom. I was walking back and forth in the bedroom not knowing what to do. He knew about the pregnancy, and now he had told Julie about it as well? Julie was so exited and apparently so was Peter. But I wasn't. I had no idea what to do.

  I sat on the bed and felt my stomach. Yes there was already a small bump there, one that only I could see, but it was there. It was really happening. But what if the child wasn't Peter's? Did I pretend it was? Did I just decide it was probably his and then say nothing to Sune? After all, he had told me he wanted out of my life completely. That he never wanted to see me again. I felt my stomach and realized I really wanted this baby. I was already looking forward to seeing it, to holding it in my arms. Who cared who the father was? And, I knew Peter would be a great father, just like he was to Julie. But could I live without knowing for sure?

  I shook my head with a sigh. Of course I couldn't. Sune wanted a second child more than anything. I couldn't deprive him of it. He had to know. I would have to ask him to take a paternity test at some point. That was the right thing to do.

  But how was Peter going to react to that? Would he resent the child because he wasn't the father?

  My head was spinning with thoughts and worries when my cell phone suddenly rang. I looked at the display and realized it was my sister.

  "Hello?" I said.

  "Rebekka. I …"

  She sounded upset. My heart stopped.

  "What's the matter? Is it something with dad?"

  "He … I came to check in on him and found him. He was lying on the floor in the kitchen. He had fallen and hurt his head. Rebekka, you have to come home. I'm afraid it's serious. We're at the hospital now. They say he had another stroke."

  "Oh my god. I'm coming right away," I said and hung up.

  I shoved my things into my suitcase and stormed downstairs. "What's going on?" Peter asked.