“What am I supposed to do with them?” asked Gordon nervously.
“Do the round one more time, Gordon. Visit all the kiosks, restaurants, and people again. Only this time bring photos of Denise and Birgit Zimmermann. Show them to people and ask if they know anything about the women’s movements or finances. Whether the mother and daughter went out together. You’ll come up with something to ask. Are you with me?”
“I’ve just been in contact with a foreman at the steel plant,” said Gordon. “He’s agreed to give you a tour up there with Leo Andresen this Monday. They’ll be waiting for you outside the main gate at ten o’clock. Is that okay?”
Carl nodded. “Did he know Rose?”
“Yes, he clearly remembers both her and the dad. But he didn’t say much about the accident. Only that Rose witnessed it and that she saw her dad die. He referred to the incident as strange and very terrible, so it isn’t a surprise that she became hysterical afterward. The way he remembers it, she was laughing and screaming at the same time. As if she was possessed. He didn’t know anything but said he would ask around among the former employees.”
“Okay, Gordon, thanks.” He turned to Assad. “My office tomorrow at six sharp. What do you say?”
“Of course. The early worm escapes the bird, as they say!”
“Er, no, Assad. It’s the early bird catches the worm!”
He looked at Carl doubtfully. “Not where I come from, let me tell you.”
“Just a second, Carl,” interrupted Gordon. “Vigga called. She said that if you don’t visit your ex-mother-in-law today, you’ll be in for it. She said the old woman isn’t well and that she’s been asking after you.”
Carl huffed.
There went his hopes of a quiet drive home.
—
In front of the nursing home, a group of demented old fogeys were being unloaded from a minibus, all walking off in different directions as soon as their feet touched the ground. The staff were really being kept on their toes.
Only one of the old people stood waiting patiently, her head shaking as she watched the scene. It was Karla.
Carl breathed a sigh of relief. His ex-mother-in-law was obviously having one of her good days. As usual, Vigga had exaggerated to get him out there.
“Hello, Karla,” he said. “You’ve obviously been out for the day. Where’ve you been?”
She turned slowly toward him, inspecting him for a moment and throwing her hand out theatrically at her unruly fellow passengers.
“Didn’t I warn them? Look how these children are running around. Don’t say I didn’t tell them how dangerous the traffic is here in Rio de Janeiro.”
Whoa, I overestimated her a bit, he thought as he carefully took her by the arm and led her toward the entrance.
“Careful,” she said. “Don’t hurt my arm.”
He smiled knowingly at one of the carers who had managed to round up a couple of the other passengers.
“What’s happened? She thinks she’s in Rio de Janeiro.”
The carer smiled back looking tired. “When Mrs. Alsing has been out on a trip, she’s always confused about where she is when we get back. And you’ll have to shout if you want her to hear you.”
Carl realized that his ex-mother-in-law wasn’t quite right in the head as they walked to her room. She regaled him with a picturesque account of the heavy rain, fallen trees on mountain roads, and the driver who had shot himself in the head as the bus had swerved off the road and into the abyss.
When they finally arrived at her room, she sat down and put her hand to her chest. It was understandable after the adventure she had described!
“It sounds like you had a terrible trip,” shouted Carl. “Lucky you made it back alive.”
She gave him a surprised look.
“I always do,” she answered, fishing out a half-smoked cigarette from behind a cushion.
“Greta Garbo doesn’t just die before the director tells her to,” she corrected him while she placed the cigarette in a cigarette holder.
Carl looked bemused. Greta Garbo? That was a new one.
“Vigga says you’ve been asking for me!” he shouted to change the subject.
She lit the cigarette and took a couple of deep puffs, filling her lungs to the bursting point.
“Have I?” She hesitated with her mouth open as the smoke swirled out. Then she nodded.
“Oh yes. Vigga’s boy gave me this. What’s his name again?”
Carl took the cell she handed him. A Samsung smartphone that was newer than the one Jesper had given him two years ago. Where would you be in life without your children’s cast-off electronics?
“His name is Jesper, Karla,” he bellowed directly into her ear. “He’s your grandson. What do you want me to do with this?”
“I need you to teach me to take selfies, just like all the young girls on the Internet.”
Despite his shock, Carl nodded approvingly. “Selfies, Karla! You are becoming very modern these days!” he shouted. “Then what you need to do is press here, with the camera lens pointing toward you, and hold the—”
“No, no, not that. That Jesper boy showed me already. I just need to know what to do.”
Maybe her hearing really was failing her, so this time he decided to use a booming commando voice as if he was dealing with a difficult arrest. “What to do? You just point it at yourself and then press.”
“Yes, yes, stop shouting. I’m not deaf. Just give me the basics. Should I take off my clothes now or afterward?”
32
Thursday, May 26th, 2016
Jazmine was dreaming soundly. She was cocooned in lace fabric, the heat from strange men’s bodies, and the rays of the sun. Intoxicated by the scent of pine and lavender mixed with fresh seaweed. She could hear the sound of waves and music and feel gentle hands on her shoulders, which suddenly shook her so hard it hurt.
Jazmine opened her eyes and saw Denise’s shocked face looking back at her.
“She’s done a runner, Jazmine,” she said, still shaking her.
“Stop that! You’re hurting me.” She sat up in bed rubbing her eyes. “What are you saying? Who has?”
“Michelle, you idiot. There was a bundle of thousand-kroner notes on the table and now it’s gone. She took some money and packed all her stuff. She must have left in a rush because she forgot her iPad.” She pointed at the shelf next to the dining table, where they had also placed the hand grenade.
“How much has she taken?”
“I don’t know. Twenty, thirty thousand, I think. I haven’t counted all the notes.”
Jazmine stretched. “Well, does it matter? If she only took thirty thousand, then that leaves more for us. What’s the time?”
“Are you stupid or what? She isn’t coming back if she’s packed her things. She’s gone back to that shit, Jazmine. We can’t trust her. We have to go after her. Now!”
Jazmine looked down at herself. She was in the clothes she had been wearing yesterday. She had sweat marks on her blouse at her armpits, and her scalp was itchy.