Seven, eight ... Gonna stay up late (Rebekka Franck #4) (9 page)

We tried to
go to the police. I showed them the poster and told them I believed it was
Princess Amalie of Merchenburg and that she had been kidnapped by some man and
that her friend had been taken too. As the words left my lips I knew how insane
they sounded. The police officer - one of two on duty in the middle of the
night looked at me like he thought I was drunk, which he probably did. How else
would I come up with such a story?

He smiled friendly and looked at the poster, then
at me. "Well, I don't really know what to say to all that," he said.
"I mean has someone filed a missing person's report? You say the girls are
both fourteen, have their parents been informed? Are they searching for
them?"

I sighed annoyed, knowing he would never take us
seriously. I could tell by the tone of his voice. "No, they are not.
Because their parents don't know that they have gone missing yet. The girls
were at the festival when they were taken."

The officer tilted his head and smiled.
"Princess Amalie of Merchenburg at Roskilde Festival? Well that's news to
me. Don't you think we would have heard about it somehow if she were to attend?
Don't you think at least the paparazzi would be lurking everywhere? Don't you
think the papers would be writing about it? I really think they would."

"You're not going to take this seriously,
are you?" I asked.

The officer shook his head slowly. "I don't
think so."

"Let's go," Sune said. "We're not
getting anywhere here."

I left my card with him and then we left the
police station. Sune drove the car downtown. We decided to spend the night at a
hotel. I needed to get away from the festival in order to think. Jens-Ole kept
calling me for the article and I promised to finish it and send it before I
went to bed. He told me he left room for it and could manage to put it in
anyway, but without reading it first, so
just
don't make any mistakes
.

"What was that you told me about some guy
being beaten?" Sune asked as he drove across town. We passed the old
cathedral and I looked at the clock in the car. It was two a.m. I didn't feel
like sleeping, I was tired, exhausted, but knew I wouldn't be able to close an
eye. I stared out the window into the bright summer night.

"I don't know who he was. I found him when
I was running out of the tent while looking for Camilla. He was lying behind
the tent, badly bruised. I helped him get to the hospital."

"Hmm," Sune said and turned the car
around a corner.

"What?"

"I don't know. It's just ... well don't you
think it’s a little too coincidental?" he said and drove into the parking
lot in front of Hotel Scandic. He stopped the engine. I looked at him.

"You think it might be the same guy? Why
would he beat someone up right before he went after Camilla? Isn't that a
little too risky?"

Sune shrugged and pulled out the key of the
ignition. "It might be. But you have to admit it is a little strange,
right?"

I opened the door and got out of the car. Sune
went in the back and took out our backpacks. I stared at the hotel in front of
me. I would rather go back home, I thought. Back to Karrebaeksminde, to Dad and
... well Julie was still in Aarhus, so she wouldn't be there. Oh my god how I
missed her at that instant. I knew she was fine with Peter. I had spoken with
her earlier the same day and she had been thrilled. Peter was spoiling her by
taking her to the Tivoli, shopping and eating at nice restaurants. With Peter
money had never been an object. I was happy that she was enjoying herself, but
slightly worried that she would get too used to living a life where money
wasn't a problem, and she got everything she wanted. I couldn't give her that.
But Peter could. He came from a rich family that went way back.

Sune carried our backpacks into the lobby and we
received the key. A few minutes later we both threw our heavy bodies on the
soft bed. Sune leaned over and kissed me gently. I wasn't quite in the mood for
anything, so I pulled away after our lips had departed.

"I need to write this article,
remember?" I whispered, then leaned over and kissed his forehead.

He looked disappointed while I opened the laptop
and found the article. I wrote a sentence, then deleted it again. Then I wrote
another one that I immediately deleted.

I sighed and looked at Sune. He had undressed
and was under the covers. His eyes were closed but he wasn't sleeping. I could
tell by the way he breathed.

"Are you awake?" I asked.

"No," he said.

"I have an idea."

"Mmm."

"It might get us in trouble."

"Mmm."

"Should I do it?"

"Mmm."

"You're right," I said and opened a
blank page. "It never stopped me before."

"How long
do
you think he intends to keep us down here?"
Camilla asked. Amalie had been crying now for a long time, and she had waited
for her to be able to talk. Camilla wasn't going to give up that easy. She was
ready to fight for her life. And for Amalie's.

"I don't know," Amalie said.

"I'll get us out of here," Camilla
said.

"How? Did you tell my dad what
happened?" Amalie asked.

Camilla sighed. "No," she said quietly
realizing that it would after all have been the smartest thing to do.

"Why?" Amalie cried. "Why didn't
you call home and tell anyone I was missing?"

Camilla exhaled deeply. "I was afraid you'd
be angry at me if your dad had found out that you had lied to him. I didn't
know if you were just drunk somewhere or doing drugs with some guy. Maybe you
intended to just show up later. I was scared, okay?"

Amalie sighed deeply. "Well that was
stupid. If you'd called home and talked to someone there they would have told
my father and he would have found me by now. And you would never be here. At
least you could have helped me when you were still on the outside. In here
you're no help."

"I know. I'm sorry," Camilla
whispered.

They both went quiet. Camilla wondered where
they were. She hit the plastic once again trying to break it, but it didn't
even move.

"Don't bother," Amalie said.
"You're in a box, it's impossible to get out of it. Believe me I’ve tried.
I have kicked, banged and screamed. No one will hear you, except the creepy guy
who brought you here. I’ve seen him come down here once to get a bottle of
wine. That's all I have seen. But I recognized him from the night he knocked me
down with his flashlight. I have no idea what he wants from me ... or us. I'm
hoping he wants money. My father will give him what he wants, then destroy him
after we have been released."

Camilla inhaled sharply. "I hope you're
right. I just don't get what he wants from me? Why has he taken me as well? And
what's with these boxes?" she said and tried to push the plastic open with
all her strength, but it was no use.

"I don't know the answer to any of that.
I’ve been here in complete darkness for what feels like days. Only once has he
turned on the light long enough for me to see the box. It's made from some sort
of see through plastic. Impossible to break. Air comes in from a tube in the
corner. I don't know how long this tube is, but at least it gives us air. I
tried to stick my hand in it and feel it, but can't get it far enough in it.
Maybe you could try. You're skinnier. Your hand is smaller."

Camilla felt around the box and found a small
round hole in the corner. She stuck her hand inside of it as far as she could,
but never reached the end.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I can't
reach the end of it."

"I thought so," Amalie said.

Camilla took in a couple of deep breaths to calm
herself down. It suddenly felt like the box was getting tighter, like it was
closing in on her body. She started to sweat and kept moving around as much as
she could to not feel trapped.

"It gets kind of claustrophobic after a
while," Amalie said. "Just try your best to not panic. Move a little
now and then to prevent it from hurting. It helps me to think about something
nice. Like the open ocean, or my favorite horse Pompadour. It makes it less
unbearable. Find something that makes you smile then keep thinking about it.
Make it your happy place while we wait."

Camilla closed her eyes and tried to find
something that would make her happy. She could only think about one thing. The
salty kiss from Amalie's lips. Then she went even further and thought about her
naked body against hers. The scent she had secretly smelled on her skin so
often, the feeling of her soft breasts against hers. She could never tell her
friend that, but she knew it was enough to keep her sane through whatever was
in store for her.

"What do you think he wants to do with
us?" Camilla asked once the fantasy had managed to calm her down once
again and given her new hope.

"I don't know. But I have a feeling we're
about to find out soon."

As expected I
didn't sleep at all that night. I kept wondering about Camilla and why the
kidnapper came back for her. He had taken Amalie, the royal princess and had to
have a reason for picking her. It couldn't just be a coincidence, could it? It
had to be deliberate. But why Camilla? Because she had seen him? But how could
she? Amalie had left Camilla to go to the restrooms when she disappeared. If
Camilla had seen the guy, she would definitely have told me. She would have
described him to me and she would have known that something bad happened to
Amalie. She wouldn't have expected her to show up at the festival or to maybe
have gone with someone. Camilla would have gone to their parents and the police
if she had known that something bad had happened to Amalie. So that wasn't it.
Maybe it was just to keep her quiet. She was after all the only one who knew
Amalie had been at the festival. The rest, especially her parents thought she
was somewhere else, Camilla had told me. So maybe it was part of removing his
tracks. With Camilla also gone they wouldn't know anything about Amalie's
whereabouts on the day she disappeared. There was no one to tell where to look.
In that way it would take a long time for the police to track him down. By then
he would be gone and maybe Princess Amalie would be too.

So what did he want this kidnapper? Was he
keeping Amalie alive somewhere? Was he going to blackmail the royal family? Was
he demanding some ransom? Maybe they already knew about this. Maybe the
kidnapper had already contacted the royal family and given his demands? They
would most certainly keep that a secret from the public. No doubt about that.
Maybe they were even taking care of it as I was lying there in my bed debating
with myself? The thought made me feel calmer and I felt my eyelids slowly
become heavier.

I might only have slept for ten minutes or so,
when the tunes of One Direction woke me up with a start. I jumped out of the
bed and ran towards the phone. I had put it in the charger overnight. The
display said Amalie.

With pounding heart and sweaty hands I answered
it. "Hello?" I said.

"Well hello there, Rebekka Franck,"
the voice from earlier said.

Every cell in my entire body froze to ice. I had
to calm my breathing to not sound too agitated. "Who is this?" I
asked.

"You know who this is," the voice
hissed. "Don't patronize me."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to," I said
afraid that he would hang up. "Why are you calling? What do you want from
me?"

The voice chuckled. Then he made a smacking
sound with his lips. "I can't stop thinking about you," he whispered.

"How do you know me? How do you know my
name?"

"Again with the condescending tone. It's
annoying, my dear."

I sighed annoyed. He was beginning to really
piss me off. "Where are the girls?"

"Why do you care?" he said hissing.

"I care about them. I care that nothing
happens to them," I said. Sune was beginning to wake up. He groaned and
turned. Then he opened his eyes. I signaled that he should be quiet.

"Well isn't that nice," the voice
said. "Maybe I will let you see them again. Maybe you'd like to pay them a
visit."

"I would like to see them," I said
feeling my heart drop. He hadn't made some deal with the family and I got the
feeling that he wasn't about to either. That wasn't his plan. Money wasn't his
goal. It was something else. Something a hell of a lot more scary.

The voice laughed hoarsely. "Be careful
what you wish for," he said.

"Are the girls okay? Are they
alright?" I asked. But it was too late. He had hung up. Angrily I pushed
the screen and called him back. No one answered. I threw the phone on the bed.
Sune looked at me, then jumped out of the bed.

"Who was that? Was it him again?"

I nodded, then let the tears roll across my
cheek. "He still has the girls. He even knows my name. How does he know my
name, Sune? How?"

Sune put his arms around me and hugged me.
"I don't know. Maybe he's just really smart."

I looked out the window. It was almost morning
now. I sniffed and hugged Sune again. Then I got up and found some clean
clothes in my backpack. I put it on the bed. "We better get dressed,"
I said. "It's going to be a busy day."

Sune stretched himself. "Isn't it a little
early? We worked till late last night. It's Sunday. We're done with this
assignment, the festival is over."

I found a pair of his clean underwear and threw
them at him.

"The festival might be over, but our work
has just begun."

Sune grabbed the pants and held them in his
hand. "Why do I feel like there's something you're not telling me?"

"Because there is," I said and went
into the bathroom to turn on the shower. When I came out to get my shampoo Sune
stared at me.

"There is? Do you mind telling me,
then?"

"See for yourself," I said and looked
at my laptop that was open on the table in the corner.

"What's this?" He looked at the
screen.

"My article in today's paper."

Sune scanned it quickly, then stared back at me
with wide open eyes. "Have you gone completely mad?"

I shrugged. "I might. I don't know how a
person can actually tell if they have in fact gone mad or not."

"But ... but ...you wrote an article about
Princess Amalie of Merchenburg and her friend being abducted during this year’s
festival? Are you crazy?"

"I guess. I thought it was the only way I
could get the message out to people. Jens-Ole said that he wouldn't be able to
read my article since it was finished so late. I guess he trusted me. Don't
think he'll make that mistake again."

Sune shook his head. "You have finally
completely lost it. Do you have any idea what kind of media circus this is
going to create?"

"I have a feeling, yes. But I thought it
was worth a shot."

"But you have no documentation. No police
statement, nothing. You risk getting fired over this."

"I know. I wrote it as a personal story. I
wrote about how I met Camilla and what she told me. Then I wrote that she had
disappeared last night. I don't assume anything, I just tell them what happened
and then I used the photo from the poster. I'm hoping to wake up the parents
and get them to react somehow. And I'm hoping to wake up the population to get
them to start looking for the two girls. Maybe someone saw something? If a
small hint leads to their rescue, then I'm perfectly willing to sacrifice my
job and career."

Sune smiled at me. "Now that's what I love
about you," he said. Then he walked over to me and grabbed me by the waist.
He kissed me gently, then demandingly. His hands were on my breasts when my
phone rang. Then we laughed.

"And so it begins," Sune said.
"Don't answer this now. Wait till you are done in the bathroom. If it's
important they'll call again. You better get in that shower now while you still
have the time. In about half an hour they will be all over you like
vultures."

 "I know," I said and kissed him
one last time before I went back into the bathroom. When I got out Sune was
sitting by the computer.

"Have you seen this?" he asked.

"I haven't seen the paper yet, if that's
what you're asking." I took off the towel wrapped around my hair, then
found my brush.

"It's not in the papers yet. It's all over
the news agencies and the online papers."

"About Princess Amalie? That was
fast." I walked closer expecting to see my story on the screen. Instead it
was something completely different.

"Someone stole the remains of Erik Klipping
from Viborg Cathedral. They found his grave under the altar empty this morning.
They took the coffin and everything. Apparently removed the altar somehow, then
dug themselves through the floor.

I dropped the brush on the bed and stormed to
him. "Erik Klipping? As in the King Erik Klipping? The king who was
murdered in Finnerup Lade in 1286?"

"The one and only."