In the dark Jeanette Hvidt was sobbing desperately, while Pauline Berg tried to think. It was difficult, her situation seemed to be hopeless, and there was apparently nothing she could do to change it. Her two handcuffs as well as the back of the chair they were attached to were solid restraints from which she could not possibly free herself. All that remained was help from outside, but Andreas Falkenborg’s words that they could scream as much as they wanted did not bode well for that solution either. To start with she could not think of anything to do other than using her five senses, as far as possible, at least to identify the situation she was in. And then with all the mental strength that remained to her, try to control the panic that was constantly threatening to take over. She turned her head and said harshly to Jeanette Hvidt, “Stop that snivelling.”
The girl did not obey but cried even louder. Berg shouted, “Shut up! Or do you really want to die down there in that hole?”
The crying stopped partially. Jeanette sobbed, “I don’t want to die. I’m not the one who’s going to die.”
“Then be quiet. Do you think it helps to cry?”
After a while her sobbing stopped, and she said, “You’re the one who lost. You’re going to die when he comes back.”
“Yes, I know.”
“You’re going into the bag, not me.”
“Yes, damn it; me, not you. Do you need to spell it out?”
Jeanette did not listen, but continued speaking.
“I’ll do everything he says, he won’t kill me.”
Berg was in two minds how best to approach the girl; tell her the truth and risk her going into a complete panic, or pretend to believe in her foolish hope. For now she chose the latter.
“It might work out that way, but listen to me now—”
But Jeanette was not listening. Instead she persisted in her delusion.
“I can be his slave for the rest of my life, never talk back, always be obedient.”
“Yes, that’s fine. Would you care to listen to something different?”
“There is only one grave, it’s for you. He’s keeping me.”
“Sure, sure—but then you’ll be alone, Jeanette.”
“I have him.”
The answer came hesitantly. It was clear that the girl was balancing on the brink of a breakdown, but Pauline Berg still detected some grasp of reality in her words. She refrained from commenting and waited. Shortly after that Jeanette said quietly, “I know he’s going to kill me too.”
“Yes, he will.”
“He measured two graves. I saw that before you came. He drew lines on the floor, but they’re covered in dust now.”
“Did he have the mask on when he was measuring?”
“That other grave is for me. He just hasn’t dug it.”
Pauline Berg then said as firmly as possible, “Jeanette, you have to listen to what I’m saying.”
“Excuse me, what was it you were asking about?”
“If he had the mask on when he measured the . . . when he measured.”
“My grave.”
“Yes, your grave, damn it. Did he have the mask on?”
“He always has the mask on.”
“No, he doesn’t, I’ve seen him without the mask. He’s just a very sick man.”
“Do you think they’re searching for us?”
“You can count on that. They’re searching everywhere.”
“You’re a cop, so they’re searching twice as hard. They’ll really want to find you.”
“They really want to find both of us, and we’re going to help them if we can.”
“How can we do that?”
“I have an idea. To start with we’ll use our five senses, one by one, to see whether we can determine anything based on that. Do you follow me?”
“Not quite, what good would that do?”
“We don’t know yet.”
“So when will we know?”
“Just do as I say, okay?”
“Okay . . . but there is one thing.”
“What?”
“I’m sorry for what I said when he was here. That wasn’t nice of me.”
“It doesn’t matter now.”
“I’m so afraid to get the prod, it hurts terribly. I can’t bear the thought of it.”
“Then don’t think about it. Tell me instead whether you can remember the five senses.”
“Of course I can: smell, hear, feel, see and taste.”
“Let’s try vision first. Now we’ll be quiet, open our eyes wide and then look around as much as we can. Do you follow me?”
“Yes.”
Pauline Berg slowly turned her head from side to side with eyes wide open, ready to capture the slightest visual impression. There was none, the darkness was total. After a while she interrupted the activity.
“What did you see?”
“Nothing. It’s completely black.”
“The same here, but I think I can smell paint.”
“The paint is from the cross. I didn’t think we’d reached smell yet.”