I'm Travelling Alone (23 page)

Mia tightened her jacket around her and crossed the street again. They had nothing on the white Citro‘n. Nothing from the list of previous offenders. Ludvig and Curry had reviewed the Hønefoss case in detail – one of the offices in Mariboesgate was covered from floor to ceiling with photographs and notes – but, despite their efforts, they hadn’t discovered anything so far. After all, there had been nearly eight hundred and sixty staff members at the hospital where the baby had been taken. Not to mention everyone with easy access: patients, visitors, relatives. It all added up to thousands of potential suspects. Nor had the surveillance cameras picked up anything. There had been no cameras in the maternity unit itself in those days, only near the exit. Mia remembered watching hours of recordings without success. Nothing. Crates of interviews and statements. Doctors, nurses, patients, physiotherapists, social workers, relatives, receptionists, cleaners … she had personally spoken to nearly a hundred people. Everyone had been equally upset. How could it happen? How could someone just walk into a maternity unit and walk out with a baby without being challenged? She remembered how high-ranking officers at Police Headquarters had jumped for joy when the young Swede had ‘confessed’ and then killed himself. They couldn’t shelve the case fast enough. Brush it under the carpet. A blot on the force. It was a question of moving on.

Mia Krüger crossed the street again and entered a courtyard. It was a long time since her last visit, but the place was still there. The green door without a sign, hidden away in an invisible corner of the city. She knocked and waited for someone to open it. They had decided to offer a reward now, the girls’ families and their supporters. Munch and Mia had been against it – it would only increase the number of time wasters, telephone calls, block the lines for people with important information – but after consulting their lawyers they had decided to go ahead with it nevertheless. The police could do nothing to prevent it. Perhaps they might even benefit from it. Maybe the right amount of money would entice someone out from the shadows.

A small hatch opened in the door and a man’s face appeared.

‘Yes?’

‘Mia Krüger,’ Mia said. ‘Is Charlie there?’

The hatch was shut again. A couple of minutes passed, then the man returned. He opened the door for her and let her in. The security guard was new; she hadn’t seen him before. A typical choice for Charlie: a bodybuilder, big with a square body, tattooed biceps bigger than her thighs.

‘He’s down there.’ The man nodded, pointing further down the room.

Charlie Brun was standing behind the bar with a big smile on his face when she appeared. He hadn’t changed. Perhaps a tiny bit older and his eyes a little more weary, but as colourful as always. Heavily made up and wearing a bright-green sequin dress with a feather boa around his neck.

‘Mia Moonbeam.’ Charlie laughed, and came out from behind the bar to give her a hug. ‘It’s been absolutely ages, how the devil are you, girl?’

‘I’m good.’ Mia nodded, and sat down.

There were only a six or seven men in the club, most of them wearing women’s clothing. Leopardskin-print trousers and high heels. White dresses and long silk gloves. At Charlie’s, you could be anyone you wanted to be; no one cared. The lighting was soft. The mood relaxed. A jukebox in the corner played Edith Piaf.

‘You look terrible,’ Charlie Brun said, shaking his head. ‘Do you want a beer?’

‘What, you finally got a licence to serve alcohol?’

‘Tut-tut, girl. We don’t use words like that here.’ Charlie winked at her and pulled her a beer. ‘Do you want a small one or …?’

‘What’s a small one in this place in the daytime?’ Mia smiled, and took a sip of her beer.

‘It’s whatever size you want it to be.’ Charlie winked again and wiped the counter in front of her.

‘Sadly,’ he continued, ‘the place isn’t buzzing as much as it used to. We’re getting old, or least Charlie is.’

He flung the green feather boa around his neck and reached for a bottle on the shelf.

‘How about a Jäger?’

Mia nodded and took off her knitted beanie and leather jacket. It was good to be indoors where it was warm. Hide from the world for a while. She had hung out at Charlie’s back in the days when the investigation into her had been all over the media. Mia had discovered this place by accident and felt at home immediately. No prying eyes. Tranquillity and security, almost a second family. It seemed a very long time ago, in another life. She didn’t recognize any of the men wearing ladies’ clothes sitting in the booths over by the red wall.

Charlie found two glasses and poured them each a Jägermeister.

‘Cheers, darling. Good to see you again.’

‘Likewise.’ Mia smiled.

‘Goes without saying you don’t look a day older,’ Charlie said.

He cupped Mia’s face in his hands and studied it.

‘Those cheekbones, girl. You shouldn’t have been a police officer. You should have been a model. But seriously, how about embracing healthy living, for the sake of your skin? And you are allowed to put on a bit of make-up every now and again, even though you’re a girl. Right, I’ve got it off my chest. Mamma Charlie always tells it like it is.’ Charlie winked and smiled faintly.

‘Thank you.’ Mia smiled, and knocked back her Jägermeister.

It warmed her all the way down her throat.

‘Could we have a bottle of champagne over here, Charlie?’

‘What have I said to you about shouting, Linda?’

Charlie was addressing a man at one of the tables. He was wearing a pink minidress, ankle boots, gloves and a string of pearls. He might be in his forties, but he moved his body and his arms like a fifteen-year-old girl.

‘Oh, come on, Charlie. Be a dear.’

‘This is a respectable establishment, not some Turkish brothel. Do you need fresh glasses?’

‘No, we’ll use the ones we already have,’ giggled the man whose name was Linda.

‘No class.’ Charlie sighed and rolled his eyes.

He fetched a bottle of champagne from the back room and brought it to the table. Opened it with a bang, to the delight of the men-girls, who clapped and cheered.

‘Right,’ Charlie said when he came back. ‘I thought we’d lost you?’

‘Rumours of my demise have been greatly exaggerated,’ Mia said.

‘A bit of rouge, a touch of foundation and I would agree.’ Charlie giggled. ‘Oh, that was naughty of me. What a naughty girl I am!’

Charlie Brun leaned over the counter and gave her a big hug. Mia had to smile. It was a long time since she had been hugged by a bear in women’s clothing. It felt good.

‘Was I being naughty? You look absolutely gorgeous – you do! A million dollars.’

‘That’s quite all right.’ Mia laughed.

‘Two million.’

‘That’s enough, Charlie.’

‘Ten million. Another Jäger?’

Mia nodded.

‘So what’s up,’ Charlie asked when they had both emptied their glasses.

‘I need your help,’ Mia said, and produced a photograph from the inside pocket of her jacket.

She slid the picture across the counter. Charlie put on a pair of glasses and held the photograph close to a candle.

‘Ah, Randi.’ Charlie nodded. ‘I had a feeling you were involved. Tragic story.’

‘Was he one of your customers? Sorry, I mean, was she?’

Charlie took off his glasses and pushed the photograph back across the counter.

‘Yes, Randi used to come here.’ He nodded. ‘From time to time. Sometimes she would come often, then several months would pass before we saw her again. Roger was one of those who – well, how do I put it? – wasn’t comfortable with who he was. I think he tried really hard not to be Randi, but you know what it’s like, he couldn’t help himself. He had to get very drunk in order to let himself go. Sometimes we had to ask Randi to leave when she started bothering the other guests.’

‘Any idea why?’

‘Why he jumped?’

Mia nodded. Charlie heaved a sigh.

‘No idea. It’s a tough world out there, that’s all I can say. It’s hard enough to be normal. It’s even tougher when society wants you to be one person while your body tells you something else.’

‘No one is more normal than you,’ Mia said, and raised her beer glass from the counter.

Charlie giggled.

‘Me? Christ, I gave all that up thirty years ago, but not everybody is like me, you know. Some are riddled with guilt, shame and a bad conscience. We can get the Internet on our mobiles and send vehicles to Mars but, mentally and emotionally, we still live as we did back in the Dark Ages, but then again, you would know all about that.’

‘Would I?’ Mia said.

‘Yes, because you’re smart, that’s why I like you so much. And pretty – that helps, obviously – but smart: I don’t need to explain everything to you. Why don’t you become prime minister, Mia? Teach this country a thing or two?’

‘Oh, I don’t think that would be a good idea.’

‘You may be right. You’re far too nice.’

Charlie chuckled and poured them each another Jäger.

‘Did she always come here alone?’

‘Who? Randi?’

Mia nodded.

‘Mostly. She bought a female friend a couple of times, but I never spoke to her.’

‘A man?’

‘No, a woman.’

‘What did she look like?’

‘Hard. Straight-backed. Dark hair scraped back in a ponytail. Rather odd eyes.’

‘What do you mean by odd eyes?’

‘They were different colours.’

‘Really?’

Charlie nodded.

‘One was blue and one was brown. She looked a bit freaky. Callous. Serious. I was quite pleased when he stopped bringing her, to be frank. She gave me the creeps.’

‘When was this?’

‘Oh, I can’t remember.’

Charlie found a cloth and started wiping the bar counter again.

‘Some months after you stopped coming here, I guess. By the way, where have you been?’

‘I left the world for a while.’

‘Well, it’s good to have you back. I’ve missed you.’

Charlie winked at her and raised her shot glass.

‘Do you want me to throw out the other guests? Then we can have a proper drink, like we used to in the old days.’

‘Some other time, Charlie.’

Mia put on her jacket.

‘Too much to do right now.’

She found a pen in her pocket and scribbled down her number on a napkin.

‘Call me if you remember anything else, will you?’

Charlie leaned over the counter and kissed her goodbye on both cheeks.

‘Don’t be a stranger.’

‘I promise.’ Mia smiled.

She pulled her beanie well over her head and stepped out into the rainy Oslo evening. She scouted for a taxi, but saw none. Never mind. She wasn’t in a hurry. It wasn’t as if anyone was waiting for her back at the hotel. She pulled the hood of her jacket over her beanie and had just started walking back to the city centre when her mobile rang. It was Gabriel Mørk.

‘Hi,’ Mia said.

‘Hi, it’s Gabriel. Is now a good time?’

‘Absolutely,’ Mia replied. ‘Are you still at the office?’

‘Yes.’

‘You don’t actually have to be there 24/7 – you are allowed to go home, you know. I don’t know if Holger has told you that?’

‘No, I know that, but there’s quite a lot to learn.’

Gabriel sounded a little weary.

‘So, any news for me?’

‘Yes, as a matter of fact, there is. It occurred to me that there must be a way to retrieve deleted text messages, so I called a mate of mine, an Apple freak.’

‘And?’

‘Simple. I found them.’

‘Everything that was on Roger’s mobile?’

‘Yep.’

‘Wow, that’s brilliant,’ Mia said. ‘So what have we got?’

‘Good news and bad. I found the deleted messages, but there weren’t many of them. His mobile must have been quite new. I’m starting to get cross-eyed and I don’t have the energy to read them all out loud; do you think you could look at them tomorrow?’

‘Sure. Am I right in thinking there was no sender this time, either?’

‘No, I have a number.’

‘Whose is it?’

‘It’s not listed. That’s why I’m calling. I’m going to have to hack several databases to find out who owns it.’

‘How many are we talking about?’

For a moment there was silence at the other end.

‘As many as I have to.’

‘And?’

‘Er, it’s illegal. We should really get a court order first. What do you think?’

‘Have you spoken to Holger?’

‘He’s not answering his phone.’

‘We can’t wait for him,’ Mia said. ‘Go ahead.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes.’

‘OK,’ Gabriel said.

‘Are you starting now?’

‘I thought I might hit the sheets first.’

‘As you like. I’m sure it can wait until tomorrow morning.’

‘Or I could do it now.’

‘Now is fine. I’m staying awake.’

‘OK.’

Mia ended the call and continued towards the city centre. The streets were practically deserted. She could see people through the windows, the glare from their television screens. Suddenly, her hotel seemed even less attractive than it had done earlier. There was no reason to go there. She wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway. She might as well have another beer. Try to focus her mind.

Fortunately, Justisen was not busy. Mia ordered a beer and found a table in a quiet corner. She took out pen and paper, and sat staring at the blank sheet in front of her. Four girls. Six years old. Pauline. Johanne. Karoline. Andrea. She wrote down their names at the top of the sheet. Pauline. Went missing from her nursery. Found in Maridalen. Johanne. Went missing from her nursery. Found by Hadelandsveien. Karoline and Andrea. Taken from their homes. Where would they be found? She could see no pattern. The answer had to be there somewhere. Roger Bakken/Randi. The text messages. ‘It is unwise to fly too near the sun.’

‘Who’s there?’

‘Bye, bye, birdie.’

First message. Icarus. Roger had done something he shouldn’t have. Second message. ‘Who’s there?’ She seemed to remember a series of jokes that went like this. ‘Knock knock.’

‘Who’s there?’

‘Doris.’

‘Doris who?’

‘Doris locked, that’s why I’m knocking.’ It made no sense. ‘Bye, bye, birdie.’ That was easier.
Bye Bye Birdie
was a musical popular with gay men. The eagle tattoo.
See you later, birdie.