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

  No, that would be a shame. There was still one person in there guilty of adultery.

  35

  August 2012

  I called Peter from the car on my way back and told him I was coming back. He was so happy, he told me and he was going to stay awake to wait for me. I kissed him when he opened the door and threw myself in his arms.

  "I'm so sorry," I said. "I'm so sorry for everything."

  Peter chuckled and stroked my cheek. "It's okay, Rebekka. I’m beginning to get how important your job is to you."

  I smiled and kissed him again, wondering for one insane second if he could taste Sune on my lips. Could he taste that I had kissed someone else?

  We went inside and up to bed where Peter wanted to have sex, but I told him I was way too tired. He looked disappointedly at me.

  "Tomorrow, Peter. Today I'm beat after a long day. I just want to go to sleep."

  Peter kissed my nose and turned around to go to sleep. I lay a long time with my eyes open, staring into the old, hand-carved, wooden ceiling, and feeling like the worst person on earth. I had been lying to Peter. I wasn't too beat to have sex. The fact was I didn't want to. I hadn't felt attracted to him.

  Probably just because you're so damn confused.

  I closed my eyes and forced myself to think about something else and finally, after half an hour or so, I fell into a heavy sleep.

  "Mommy! Mommy! You're back." Julie woke me up the next morning jumping into our bed with a shriek. I grabbed her and hugged her for a long time. "What do you want to do today?" she asked.

  "I want to do anything you want," I said and looked into her eyes.

  "Let's play hide and seek," she said.

  "Okay. After breakfast."

  "Do you want to play too, Daddy?" Julie said.

  "I guess I could play a little," he answered.

  "How's the painting going?" I asked. I looked at my family and felt suddenly overwhelmed with gratefulness. To think I had almost thrown all of that away again.

  "Not progressing as fast as I'd like it to," Peter said. "But, alright I guess."

  "Let's go," Julie yelled and jumped down from the bed.

  "I'll take a shower first," I said. "Be right down."

  I walked into the bathroom, when suddenly I felt incredibly nauseated. It was overpowering and I had to sit down on the bathroom floor.

  It's gotta be stress, I thought to myself.

  I undressed and looked at myself in the mirror. Had my breasts grown? They had been very sore lately and now I could hardly touch them. Another wave of nausea flushed over me and I barely made it to the toilet before I threw up.

  It was when I lifted my head and spotted the box of Tampax on the shelf that the penny finally dropped.

  Could it be? Could I be? No. No. No.

  I went through the stuff in my toilet bag, knowing I had hidden a pregnancy test somewhere in it from back when I was with Sune. I had used one of these a month, only to disappoint him with the results.

  With a beating heart, I pulled out the stick and peed on it. Then I waited, but I didn't even have to wait till the time was up before I had my answer. I couldn't believe my eyes. I checked the box again, hoping I was wrong, hoping I had misunderstood it. Nope. I hadn't. Two lines shows you're pregnant it said.

  I had to sit down. I stormed into the bedroom and sat on the bed staring at the small stick with the very serious message, wondering whom the father could be.

  Was it Peter? If so, then there was no problem. We were a family and now, an expanding one. Nothing wrong with that.

  Except the fact that you'd have to say a definitive goodbye to Sune. The thought hurt me deeply.

  But could the child be Sune's? We had tried for months without any luck. Maybe it had finally paid off? In that case, I would end up hurting both Peter and Julie. I would crush the dream of a family. Sune would be thrilled beyond anything, since he had wanted another child for all the time I had known him. But what about me? I looked at the stick again, then down at my stomach that suddenly seemed to have grown tremendously in the last five minutes.

  Did I really want another child? Did I want to destroy my family to have it?

  36

  August 2012

  Henrik Fenger was trying to run, but it hurt too much. He stopped for a little while to catch his breath, leaning towards the wall of a building. The bleeding had stopped and he had felt better waking up in his hotel room this morning. Last night had been a disaster for him. He had felt so confused and angry after talking to that journalist woman and after learning that there had been another victim like him. At first, he had freaked out thinking he had killed the wrong girl, but after a good night’s sleep, he finally saw things clearly now.

  They were in on it together. The both of them had worked together on this. Two whores picking up guys in bars just to sedate them and steal their organs at night. It was very simple really. That was the only explanation he could come up with. Maybe there were even more than two? Maybe they were an entire group of women working this way. Maybe getting their revenge over men, who hadn't been treating them right or something.

  That was it. A group of man-hating, freaking feminists. Maybe they were even trying to prove a point or something. Maybe they were like activists trying to tell people something through their desperate and violent actions.

  Freaking feminists. Thinking they can have it all, thinking that they are as good as men. Bah.

  Henrik looked at the piece of paper with the address in his hand, then at the iPhone where he had plotted the address in the app called maps. He had parked the rented car far away, so it wouldn’t be seen. He had to turn right at the next corner and then left on the first street. Henrik looked up the hill thinking it was going to be hard for him to walk all that way. Then he thought of Annabelle and how she had been deceiving him all night, whispering sweet words in his ear telling him how handsome he was, how she enjoyed being with him. Henrik growled and felt the adrenalin rush through his veins. Anger was the best drive he could think of. He roared and started walking again, now with renewed strength while picturing this Barbara character doing all the same things to this guy who she had ended up killing.

  "Barbara Rasmussen," he mumbled.

  He had gotten the name from the bartender at the hotel in Hasle where the other guy had been killed. Martin Damsgaard was his name. It was a name Henrik was going to make sure Barbara Rasmussen wasn't going to forget anytime soon. Martin wasn't here to take his own revenge, so Henrik would do it for him. It was the least he could do. Make sure these women realized they weren't getting away with this, even if the police were too stupid to see what was going on.

  Henrik had paid the bartender five hundred kroner to give him the name and address of the girl. The bartender told him he had slept with her once, himself, at her place, so he knew exactly where to find her.

  Henrik turned a corner and walked some hundred yards until he finally found the street where Barbara lived. It didn't take him long to spot the right building. A garbage truck further up the street emptied the dumpsters. A couple of neighbors were talking in a door opening.

  "You hear about Jessen's daughter in number fourteen?"

  "Yes terrible story. You think she ran away from home?"

  "Nils in number twelve B says he saw her walk home yesterday afternoon after school, as usual. She passed his window at three o'clock, but she never made it home, her parents say."

  "You think they're lying? They have beaten her before, remember?"

  "Ah yes, terrible story."

  Henrik shook his head and walked past the chatting women, not caring that they saw his face. Women weren't his favorite species among humans right now. He fought an urge to yell at them, to scare them senseless and give them something real to talk about. But this was not why he had come here.

  37

  August 2012

  I was close to tears as I walked down the stairs to eat breakfast. I had been thinking about it over and over aga
in, but had not come up with any good solutions to my situation. So, I decided to try and ignore it. At least for a couple of hours while playing with my daughter, spending time with my family. Whatever happened, I didn't want to ruin this vacation for Julie. My editor had been calling my phone and leaving messages, but I hadn't listened to them or called him back, since I wasn't in the mood to work today. Today he would have to find someone else.

  When I walked inside the kitchen, the TV was on and both Julie and Peter were staring at it.

  "What's going on?" I asked.

  "Looks like you have to work again, Mommy," Julie said.

  "What do you mean?"

  "It happened again," Peter said. "Someone was attacked at a hotel in Silkeborg."

  My heart stopped. "In Silkeborg. I was just there yesterday. What hotel? What hotel, Peter?"

  "Easy now, Rebekka. I don't know the name of the hotel."

  "Hotel Mercury," Julie said. I stared at her. My heart stopped.

  "Who was the victim? Have they told who it was yet?" I asked.

  "No. They don't know yet. All they know is that some guy was attacked in his hotel room and was found covered in ice cubes in the bathtub. They say he had his spleen taken out."

  "Oh my God. Is he alive?"

  "He was airlifted to the hospital in Aarhus. That's all they’ve said, so far."

  I felt nauseated and had to sit down to not faint. "Are you okay, Mommy?" Julie asked. I felt her hand on my neck. It was like the room was spinning around me and I was suffocating at the same time. I wasn't sure I could stand up. The pregnancy, the decisions, the prospect of having to let them all down, and now this?

  I reached into my pocket and found my phone. I found Sune's number and called it. Peter looked at me while I waited for an answer. But none came. His voicemail started and I hung up.

  Peter was still looking at me. "What's going on, Rebekka?"

  I shook my head and tried to call Sune again. Still no answer. This time I left a message on his voicemail.

  "It's Rebekka. Call me when you get this."

  I hung up. Peter had an angry look to his eyes. "It's him, isn't it? You're worried about that Sune guy, right?"

  "What?" Julie said. "What about Sune?"

  My hands were sweaty. I wiped them on my pants. My heart was racing like crazy. I felt like crying. Why the hell wasn't he answering his phone? Sune always answered his phone. This couldn't be … it simply couldn't be happening. A thousand thoughts ran through my mind and I had no time to consider Peter's jealousy or emotions at this point.

  "Rebekka, I think you're exaggerating here. You don't know why he isn't answering his phone. Maybe he is still sleeping. Maybe he is already on his way home. He was going by train, right? Maybe he caught an early one?"

  I nodded, while pressing back my tears. I had a horrifying feeling inside that something was wrong. I couldn't explain it. I only knew I was certain that something bad had happened to him and I couldn't bear it.

  I looked up at Peter. "I need to borrow your car again," I said. "I have to go back to the hotel."

  I got up from the chair and started packing my bag again. Peter exhaled. "Rebekka is this really necessary?"

  "I'm afraid so, Peter. I have to do this. I have to make sure he is alright. Besides Jens-Ole probably wants me to cover the story for the paper anyway. He has already called me several times this morning and left messages in my voicemail. I just haven't called him back yet."

  Peter handed me the keys to his Land Rover with a sigh.

  "I'm sorry, Peter. But this is something I have to do."

  "I don't understand it," Peter said. I detected anger in his voice. "It's not just about the work, is it? It's about him. Is he really that important to you? I'm sure if you wait half an hour he will call you back. Why Rebekka? Why is he still this important to you?"

  I kissed Julie and put on my jacket. "I don't know Peter. He just is, alright?"

  "Do you still love him?"

  "Let's talk about it when I get back. First of all I need to know if he is alright. Then, I think we need to sit down and talk."

  Peter growled, then grabbed my arm. It hurt. He pulled me back. "No."

  "No what?"

  "No you're not going anywhere. You're staying here with me, with us."

  I looked into his eyes and suddenly saw the Peter I remembered from back when he wasn't well. I gasped and pulled my arm away.

  "Don't ever tell me what to do, Peter. Not ever again."

  38

  August 2012

  I was both frustrated and angry as I drove across the countryside towards Silkeborg. I kept calling Sune, but he still didn't pick up. I had no idea what to think. On the radio, they talked about the third case of organ theft in the area and interviewed a police officer about how people should approach this, asking him if they should be scared.

  "No I don't think that they should. So far, the victims have all been white males and all have been staying in hotels. There is no reason that normal people should be afraid in their homes."

  "But maybe if they're staying the night at a hotel?" The journalist asked.

  The policeman sighed. "I don't want to spread panic or ruin the hotel business so, no, you're not going to get me to say it is dangerous to stay in a hotel."

  I turned the volume down when there was a commercial break and drove on. It was raining now and the winds had picked up a lot. When the commercials were done on the radio, the presenter talked about a storm that was on its way. I tried calling Sune again, but still no answer. I called Jens-Ole instead and told him I had received his messages and was on my way to the hotel in Silkeborg. Then I asked him if he had heard anything from Sune.

  "Not since last night when he sent me the pictures for today's story. Great article by the way."

  "Thanks."

  "I thought you were with him. Didn't you stay at the same hotel?" He asked.

  "No. I went home to be with my family."

  "Too bad. I thought I had you on the inside. That would have been a great story," he said.

  Yeah, then we could both have been victims and made the front cover, I thought, sarcastically.

  "You're not thinking something might have happened to him?" Jens-Ole asked.

  "I don't know what I’m thinking. All I know is, he spent the night there at the same hotel and there weren't that many other guests. Is there any news about the identity of the victim?"

  "Not yet. My guess is they are looking to inform the relatives first," Jens-Ole said. "I'm sure he is fine, Rebekka."

  "I really hope so."

  "Call me when you find him." I detected a slight concern in Jens-Ole's voice.

  "I will."

  I hung up and continued through the many hills and forests thinking of nothing else but Sune and all the fun times we had had together. I thought about Tobias back at home in Karrebaeksminde. Who was going to tell him?

  You're being ridiculous, Rebekka. Of course he is fine. You're overreacting. Calm down, for Pete's sake.

  I felt tears pressing my eyes again and speeded up, hoping that there were no police in sight. Luckily, they were all at the hotel, parked by the front entrance, where they had put up a roadblock to keep curious passersby out. I parked down the street, then ran towards the crowd. I held up my press card and elbowed my way through the crowd. I spotted officer Jansson, who I had talked to the day before on the phone about the organ thefts. He was walking behind the roadblock. I called out to him. I knew him from way back, when I worked at a big national newspaper in Aarhus.

  "Rebekka Franck?" He said and approached me. He signaled that I could come behind the police strip. "It happened again, huh?" I asked. "Any ID on the victim?"

  The officer shook his head. "I haven't been up there yet. I just came in from Aarhus, so I don't know much. As far as I know, he is still on the operating table."

  "But he must have had personal items like a wallet or something, right? They must have found his stuff in his room?"
/>   "Probably. But you know how it is. They need to inform the relatives first, before they can tell the media."

  "Naturally."

  "You look worried." He suddenly said.

  "I know someone who spent the night here last night. I guess I am just scared …" I could hardly hold the tears back now. Officer Janssen saw it.

  "My God, Rebekka. Are you alright?"

  "I don't know. I just need to make sure it wasn't him. What room was the victim staying in?"

  "Room 237."

  39

  August 2012

  "Who are you?"

  The woman Henrik guessed was Barbara Rasmussen stared at him. "How did you get inside the building?"

  Henrik grinned. "You don't know me, but I know a lot about you."

  Barbara closed the door a little. "I'm not interested in buying anything."

  "Oh, I'm not here to sell anything."

  "So what do you want? Say, haven't I seen you somewhere before? Yes, I have. On TV. You're that kidney-guy. The guy who had his kidney stolen?"

  "Guess I have become quite the celebrity, well we don't need any further introductions, then."

  Barbara's eyes softened. She opened the door a little more. "I'm so sorry for what happened to you. Is that why you're here? Because you heard I was with Martin Damsgaard that night before …"

  Save the drama, bitch. It doesn't work on me. I see right through that little act of yours.

  Henrik smiled compassionately and nodded. "Yes. That is exactly why I'm here. I wanted to talk to you about that night."

  Barbara shrugged and opened the door completely so Henrik could step inside her apartment. "I don't have much to tell, but if it'll bring you any comfort, then you're welcome."

  Henrik put a hand to his chest. "Thank you so much. It means a lot to me. I have so many unanswered questions and no one to talk to about it." Henrik walked through the hallway and into the living room.

  "Oh, I can understand how that must be hard," Barbara said behind him. "I feel like such a victim in this too. I'm so confused and I’m having a hard time sleeping at night since this happened. I mean, it was a close one for me too. I could as easily have been killed as well if I hadn't left during the night. I know I was lucky, but it still lingers with you, you know? Well, I guess you do know more than anyone, right? You must be frightened to death of going to sleep after this. Oh where are my manners? Do sit down in any of the chairs or on the couch. I'll make us some coffee. How do you take it?"