Three, Four...Better Lock Your Door (18 page)

"Come on, Mom. It's time to get up now."

Julie grabbed my arm and pulled me up.

"What are you so cheerful about this early?" I said.

"Today is my first riding lesson. I’m on the same team as Tobias down at the club."

I opened my eyes widely. "Excuse me? You're what?"

Julie froze. Then she sighed like only a child can sigh. "Grownups are so lame. Grandpa didn't tell you did he? He promised to take me today."

I shook my head. "I guess he forgot."

I walked downstairs planning on being very angry with Dad and his way of handling this. I had said no to my daughter and he wasn't supposed to just overrule that. Even my steps on the stairs were mad. But then I heard him whistle in the kitchen and the smell of bacon and eggs filled my nostrils I realized I couldn't be mad at him.

I walked into the kitchen. Dad turned and smiled. "Already up?" he asked. His cheeks were red from standing over the hot stove.

"Breakfast is almost ready."

I looked at the greasy bacon on the pan. It smelled really good and I was starving. I felt my jeans. They felt tight. I almost couldn't close them this morning. Then I thought about Christian and my plans to have dinner with him Wednesday night.

"Dad swung the pan and put it on the table.”Bacon? I even went to the bakery and got pastries to go with it." He showed me a basket of delicious looking pastries.

"I think I'll just grab some granola this morning, Dad. But thanks," I said.

"Granola?" Julie entered the kitchen and looked at me with a little wrinkle in her forehead. "You never eat granola."

I grabbed a box of cereal with granola from the shelf and poured some into a bowl. "Well I do now," I said.

"That's weird," Julie said and sat down. Then she started shoveling pastries in one at a time while I watched her with great envy. I used to be able to do that too and never gain a single pound. It wasn't fair. My granola with milk was dry and boring. I washed it down with lots of orange juice.

"So Dad, Julie tells me that you're taking her to her first riding lesson today?" I said.

Julie crouched in her chair.

Dad froze. He stared at me. Then he threw up his hands. "I'm sorry sweetheart. I meant to tell you, I really did, but you just haven't been home much lately ... and I know that you've said no but I thought that it would be good for Julie ..."

"It's okay Dad. I know she can be persuasive and she has probably not stopped talking about it since we had this conversation the first time. I was mad at her at first for going behind my back but I'm over it.  It's okay, really. As long as she’s home before dark and as long as you keep an eye on her all the time. We have to be very careful these days, you know."

Julie smiled. She jumped out of her chair and smothered me in an amazing hug. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! You're the best mom ever."

I hugged her back. Then I looked into her eyes. "Just promise to be careful, alright? And always wear a helmet."

"I will."

"You're wearing make-up?"

Sune stared at me like I had just fallen off the moon. I blushed. I didn't think he would notice let alone comment on it.

"Can't a woman wear make-up every once in a while?" I asked and stormed past him to my desk.

"You never wear make-up," Sune continued.

"Well I do now, okay. Leave me alone."

He raised his hands in the air resignedly. "Okay," he said and walked back to his desk. "So what's on the menu today? What are we working on?"

I stared at the big pile of papers and files on the floor next to me. "We have to go through all this," I said. "I haven't talked to Jens-Ole about it yet since I want to make sure that the documentation is there. I want to make sure we actually have a story. He didn't want me to pursue this story in the first place and I don't want him to shoot it down because I'm not properly prepared."

The door to the editorial room suddenly opened and Sara stormed in. She was out of breath. "Another one ... there ... heard it ... in my car ..." she gasped.

"Take it easy Sara. Catch your breath first. Then talk nice and slow," I said.

"There’s been another one. Another murder. All patrols are on their way there now. Just heard it in my car on my way here," she said.

Sune and I stared at each other. He grabbed his coat and camera.

"Do you have a police scanner in your car as well?" I asked.

She nodded still gasping for air. "It's on Lungshave, on Enoe, the nice and rich neighborhoods."

The small island of Enoe was connected to Karrebaeksminde by a long bridge. It was a place mostly for camping, for vacation houses and summer guests. But there were a few neighborhoods were people lived all year, mostly elderly, retired people, but often they were very rich and just wanted to retire in beautiful surroundings close to the beach.

I had come there a lot a few years ago when I dated the Italian artist. He lived in one of the charming old houses right at the beach. We passed it on our way to the scene. I sent him a friendly thought and wondered how he was doing. If I knew him he had already found someone else and didn't miss me at all.

"Do you ever miss him?" Sune asked when we passed the house.

"No. He was an idiot," I said. "Cute, but not worth it."

Sune made a grimace. "Okay then. I get the picture. I shouldn't be asking more about him."

"No it's not like that. I don't mind talking about it. I'm completely over him."

We both went quiet. I chuckled.

"What?" Sune asked.

"Nothing."

"You chuckled," he said smiling.

"I like this, talking to you, even if it is only when we're working. I know we were supposed to stay strictly professional, but it's nice to talk about other stuff every now and then. I enjoy it."

Sune smiled. "I do too." Then he sighed. It wasn't a nice sigh. It was a longing one. I felt his eyes on me. I went quiet. I liked that he was looking at me, but I didn't want to like it.

"Stop staring," I said. "It makes me uncomfortable."

He turned his head, blushing. "I'm sorry. It's just because you look really great today."

I exhaled. I had to end this. I had to make him stop longing for me. It would end up destroying our relationship.

"I’m going out for dinner tomorrow night," I said. "With a man. Not that it's any of your business, but I want you to know."

Sune froze. He stared out of the window for a while in silence. Then he spoke without looking at me. "So who is he? Who's the lucky guy?" His voice was thick with disappointment.

I cleared my throat. "Christian Lonstedt."

Sune turned his head and looked at me. "Christian from the
Express
?"

"Yes."

"You can't go out with him," Sune said.

"Excuse me?"

"He’s from the other newspaper, our competitor. He just wants to steal your stories and your sources," Sune answered with a slightly desperate tone to his voice.

"Come on. This is not some movie. Who would ever go out with someone to get stories or secrets out of them?"

 Sune exhaled. "I just don't like it. I don't like him."

The scene of the crime was ahead of us now. I could see the pack of police cars parked in front. I drove up and parked not far away from the house. I turned off the engine and looked at Sune.

"Sune. You've always liked Christian. You like him more than I do. You're only saying that out of jealousy. I am going out with him tomorrow night. We are going to have a nice time and if everything goes well we might end up seeing each other again. You need to find peace with that if we're supposed to work together, okay? I love you as a friend. I don't want to lose you. If you're jealous then keep it to yourself. It will pass. You'll find someone else. Can you do that? Can you restrain yourself?"

Sune exhaled. Then he nodded. "Alright. You're right. This was about to happen someday anyway. I just have to make peace with it."

"That's what I wanted to hear. Now let's get to work."

C
HAPTER 32

T
HE SCENE OF THE
crime looked much like the three before it. Lots of police were working behind the red and white crime tape, the blue van from the forensic department, and people in blue suits dusting, securing fingerprints and taking footprints on the ground outside of the house. Neighbors had gathered, staring at the scene with terrified eyes, wondering why of all the houses did the killer pick this one? Why of all victims did he pick this man?

The victim was a sixty-seven year old man, Johannes Lindstroem explained to me when he saw me. He was a retired doctor who had his own practice in Naestved for ten years. The doctor was known to be the quiet type, his family very calm and nice according to the neighbors.

"He was killed in the shower, bled to death after having gone through what appears to be a lobotomy performed with a scalpel."

"Like the other three," I said.

"Just like the others. The perpetrator leaves no fingerprints behind. We have however found a few more blond hairs at the scene close to the body, which leads us to believe that we are looking for a woman.

"Who found the body?" I asked.

"The wife. She found it in the shower this morning."

"Did something happen last night? Did the neighbors hear or see anything?" I asked. "Anything out of the extraordinary?"

"That's what we're trying to find out. The wife has been taken to the hospital in Naestved. She is in a state of shock and not of much help yet. She has somehow lost her voice and can only whisper. What we have gotten out of her so far has led us nowhere, mostly mumbling and a few words here and there. The fact is we have no idea what has gone on here. Other than she woke up this morning went to the bathroom and found her husband."

"Okay, thanks," I said and let him get back to his work. Sune danced around the scene and taking pictures needed. I approached him.

"Anything good?" he asked while still shooting.

"They don't know much. The wife is in shock. But it's the same killer alright. Same methods, they even found more blond hair, so they're pretty sure they're looking for a blond woman."

"Hmm," Sune said while checking the last picture he had taken.

"What?" I asked.

"Isn't it weird that someone who leaves no fingerprints on the scene isn't careful enough to not leave hair behind?"

I nodded pensively. "I guess. So you're thinking that maybe someone wants us to think that it is a blond woman?"

Sune shrugged. "Just a thought."

"Hi there." Christian Lonstedt approached us. He had his camera around his neck and a notepad in the hand. He looked great.

I smiled. Sune scoffed and shook his head.

"Hi Christian," I said feeling a little awkward thinking about our upcoming dinner plans. He gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. Sune continued taking pictures.

"So one more, huh? This is really ugly," Christian said. "Makes you kind of afraid to go out at night."

"Except half of them have been killed in their homes," Sune growled. "So my guess is going out would be the safe thing to do."

He had a point, I thought to myself.

"Unless the killer picks her victims while they're out and then follows them home," Christian argued.

He made a good point as well, I thought. Maybe it was as simple as that. Maybe the victims were coincidental? It didn't seem like the good Dr. Martin Frandsen had engaged himself in anything particularly morally wrong like the three others. Maybe our theory was as farfetched as it sounded?

"Well I'd better get back to work. I have to get back and write the article," Christian said. "See you tomorrow. I'll pick you up at six."

Sune and I stayed till the body had left the house in a body bag and then we headed back to the editorial room in Karrebaeksminde. Sune was awfully quiet all the way back but I let him sulk all he wanted to while I tried to keep myself joyful and happy.

"Don't you ever wonder how he gets there so fast?" Sune said when we had crossed the bridge and drove back towards town.

"Who Christian?"

"Yes. He is always there when we arrive."

I shrugged. "My guess is that he has a police scanner in his home just like Sara."

"But he has to go all the way from Naestved?"

I shrugged again. "Today he didn't. Today he didn't come until after we were there. Maybe he is just a really good reporter."

"Maybe he doesn't have a life."

I scoffed while I drove the car to our usual parking lot near the office. "Let it go, will you?" I said. "I like him and you have to accept that."

We bought lunch at a small café that we passed on the way and brought the sandwiches up to the editorial room. Sune didn't speak to me at all and avoided my eyes. It was getting on my nerves, it was so childish and for the first time I felt how young he really was compared to me. It was also very unattractive.

Sara sensed the tension right away and shook her head. "I told you you were heading for trouble," she mumbled.

 I ignored her. I wrote a couple of articles about the new killing while finishing my lunch. Then I sent it to my editor. He e-mailed me back that it looked great. He especially loved the portrait of the retired doctor. I had talked to a bunch of neighbors and Googled Martin Frandsen. In my article I painted a picture of a respectable hardworking man who was very well-liked in his community and by his patients.

“It shows that anybody could be the next victim,” my editor wrote.

I went for coffee in the kitchen. I came back with a cup for Sune and placed it on his desk.

"Thanks," he mumbled.

"You're welcome," I said and went back to my desk.

"There is cake too," Sara said. "Cinnamon stick, your favorite."

"I saw it but I'm skipping cake today," I said and tapped my belly.

Sune scoffed. "She has a date tomorrow," he said.

"It's not a date!" I exclaimed. "Just two friends having dinner." I sat down and sipped my coffee ignoring him. Sara looked at me with curious eyes.

"So who is he?" she asked.