I'm Travelling Alone (50 page)

Even though it was light all the time, she didn’t find it difficult to sleep. Weird, really. The same thing would happen every time: After she had eaten, she would fall asleep. Even though she hadn’t felt tired at all. It was almost as if the food made her sleepy. As if the food was magic. She remembered Alice in Wonderland, who had felt strange after eating something – first she had turned big, then she had grown small – so magic food probably existed. Was it possible for food to be magic even though it tasted bad? Marion ran her tongue across the dent in her nail, just as she heard the wall started to hum again.
Brr, vrr,
the magic food was coming, it was travelling down to her through the wall. She got up and went over to the hatch. Stood there waiting for the food to land. She recognized the sounds now.
Brr, vrr, brr, vrr
and a
clonk.
Then she could open the hatch to see what she had got. It was mostly mashed potatoes and carrots and that stuff she didn’t like. Cauliflower. No, broccoli. Never pizza or sausages or tomato soup, never her favourite things. Marion waited for the
clonk
, still with her thumb in her mouth. Come to think of it, she never heard the service lift go back up again. It only ever came down. She would take out the food, eat it, and then the lift would come back down again. Because she had been asleep, was that it? It probably was. The magic food made her sleep, and then the lift would go up through the wall again while she was asleep; that had to be how it was.

There was a
clonk
. Marion Munch opened the hatch to see what was there. A bottle of squash this time, that was good. But the food looked revolting. There was something made from potatoes, and that green stuff again. Broccoli. She took the plate and the bottle out of the lift and sat down on the chair by the desk. She picked at the food with the fork which had accompanied it. She didn’t have much of an appetite now. Most of all, she wanted to cry. Not eat, just cry. She could feel the tears pressing, but she steeled herself. There was no point in crying. Not in this room. No one would come. No matter how many tears she cried. But, even so, she couldn’t manage it. Holding them back. She sat with the fork in her hand while she watched the tears drip down on her plate.

What if she didn’t eat the food? She had no idea where that thought had come from. Suddenly, it just appeared in her mind. What if she didn’t eat the food, then what? Would she stay awake? Would she hear the lift go back up again? She glanced at the hatch in the wall. How did she get that idea? Out of nothing and into her head. Because it was a brilliant idea, wasn’t it? If she didn’t eat the food, would the lift still go back up? She quickly got up and went over to the hatch. She opened it and peered inside. She could fit inside it, couldn’t she? She had hidden out in much smaller places. Once, they had played hide and seek and she had hidden in the saucepan cupboard in the kitchen, and no one had found her; in the end she had had to give herself up. And that cupboard was really tight; no one had suspected a thing, they had all been terribly impressed. She was going to trick the lift, that was her plan. She would pretend to eat the food but empty it into the lavatory bin, then put the plate in the corner with the others and lie down on the bed. The lift must go when she slept. Perhaps it would still do so if she pretended to be asleep? Marion positioned herself with her back to the lift and picked up the plate from the table. It was important that the lift didn’t see what she was doing. Or it might change its mind. She carefully raised the paper lid from the bin and tipped the food into it as swiftly as she could. She quickly sat down again and glanced at the hatch in the wall.

‘Oh, my tummy is all full now,’ she said out loud and patted her stomach a few times.

The lift did nothing. It had clearly not noticed anything was amiss.

‘Oh, I feel so tired now,’ she said, letting out a fake yawn.

She put the plate in the pile with the others and went to bed. She lay facing the lift and closed her eyes. She lay very still with her thumb in her mouth. She was good at lying still. That time she had hidden in the kitchen cupboard, she had lain still for … well, for a long time. So long that her parents had started calling her name. Marion squeezed her eyes shut and lay still, waiting for the lift to move. There was no sound. She could feel herself getting a little impatient. This was not like lying in the kitchen cupboard when she knew that there was someone outside. That someone was looking for her. Who would be delighted to find her. Here, there was no one. She felt the tears press against the inside of her eyelids again, but she managed to keep them at bay. If she was crying, then she couldn’t be asleep. The lift would probably know that. She stuck her thumb even deeper into her mouth and tried to think of something else. When she had curled up in the kitchen cupboard, she had made up a game in her head. A story. A story based on Monster High, a story she hadn’t seen on television, one she had invented all by herself. The time had flown by; it hadn’t been a problem at all. She pretended to be DracuLaura, who has forgotten to do her homework. This was a big mistake because the teacher would come soon, and then she would have to say that she hadn’t done her homework, and she didn’t want to do that. DracuLaura might seem like a tough girl, but she wanted to do well at school; the others might not think so, but that was what she wanted. But now she had forgotten it, her homework. She hadn’t meant to, it had just slipped her mind. There had been so much else going on. Marion was just about to decide why DracuLaura had forgotten to do her homework when she suddenly heard the lift starting to stir.
Brr, vrr.
On impulse she leapt out of bed and ran to the hatch. She quickly pulled it open and crept inside the hole in the wall. The lift was very small, and first she couldn’t get her foot inside. She pulled it in with a jerk and, suddenly, all of her was inside it. She was inside the lift! And it was going up!

The lift squeaked and creaked its way upwards through the wall, and she couldn’t see a thing. Marion curled into a tiny ball and tried not to be scared of the dark. Her heart pounded inside her small chest; she was almost afraid to breathe.
Brr, vrr.
It moved slowly, slowly upwards, and then, suddenly,
clonk
. The lift had stopped. The lift had stopped without noticing that she was inside it. She carefully nudged the hatch and discovered to her delight that it opened. Marion Munch climbed out of the hatch and stood on the floor with a gawping expression on her face.

She was in a living room. In a house she had never seen before. There weren’t any windows here either – no, there were, but the curtains were closed. There was a woman in a chair by a table in the middle of the room. Marion looked around and reluctantly walked up to the her. She had her eyes closed and grey tape covered her mouth. A tube with water or something from a bag was going into her hand.

Marion Munch stood in the middle of the room, not knowing what to do and glancing around frantically. There was a hallway with shoes and boots, just like at home. And a door. A front door. Marion tiptoed to the door. The stupid dress made it difficult for her to walk, and it also made a lot of stupid noise. Did she dare open the door? How would she know what might lie behind it? In this house where everything was so strange?

‘Stop!’

Marion Munch jumped when she heard the shrill woman’s voice behind her.

‘Stop! Stop!’

Marion Munch put her hand on the door handle, pushed open the door and ran out into the darkness as quickly as her little legs could carry her.

Chapter 84

Karianne Kolstad hated selling lottery tickets. Selling lottery tickets was the worst thing she knew. The fourteen-year-old had considered quitting the Girl Guides simply because of those stupid lottery tickets. She didn’t mind fundraising activities – she had picked strawberries and cleared rocks from fields for farmers – it was just these stupid lottery tickets she couldn’t stand. Karianne Kolstad was shy; that was the reason she hated selling lottery tickets. She had to ring people’s doorbells and talk to them.

Karianne Kolstad tightened her jacket and walked down the road to Tom Lauritz Larsen’s farm. She didn’t mind knocking on his door; she knew he would be all right. The pig farmer was a bit eccentric, but he was nice and she had spoken to him before. The last time she called he had bought practically all her tickets. She hoped she might be just as lucky today. Karianne Kolstad opened the gate and entered the farmyard.

Tom Lauritz Larsen had become something of a minor celebrity after someone had decapitated one of his sows. Their local newspaper,
Hamar Arbeiderblad
, had written about it several times. First, when the head went missing, and then when it reappeared. ‘Local pig found on stake in Babes in the Wood case’ had been the headline, and there had been photographs of Larsen, as well as his farmhand.

Karianne Kolstad knew everything about the dead girls; she had read every word about the case in the newspapers. There had been meetings as well, first at school, then with the Girl Guides, then in the village hall, where everyone had turned up – not just people who had daughters about to start school, but practically everyone in the village. They had lit candles for the dead and missing girls and she had helped start a Facebook group to show her respect for them. Starting a Facebook group was easy, all she had to do was sit in front of her laptop; not like now, when she had to talk to real people. She went up to the farmhouse and knocked on the door. It was starting to get dark, but the light was on in the kitchen window. She could hear music, too, so he was probably at home. She knocked again and the door opened. She breathed in and braced herself, trying to put on a smile.

‘Hello?’ Larsen said, looking at her kindly. ‘Are you out selling lottery tickets again?’

Phew, thank God, at least she wouldn’t have to tell him that.

‘Yes,’ she nodded, relieved.

‘You had better come in,’ Larsen said, looking out into the darkness behind her.

‘Are you out this late all on your own?’ he asked when she had stepped inside the kitchen.

‘Yes.’ Karianne nodded, shyly.

‘And what is it this time?’

Tom Lauritz Larsen had already produced his wallet and was holding it in his hand.

‘Our group is going on a camping trip. To Sweden.’

‘Well, I imagine that will be nice.’

‘Yes, I hope so.’ Karianne nodded politely.

‘I’m usually unlucky at gambling,’ Larsen chortled as he took out a hundred-kroner note from his wallet. ‘But you have to support the young, don’t you think?’

‘Thank you,’ Karianne said. ‘The tickets are twenty kroner each and you can win a fruit basket and some coffee, and some things that we have made ourselves.’

‘Oh, I don’t suppose I’ll win anything, but I’ll certainly buy some tickets.’ Larsen smiled and winked at her. ‘Unfortunately, I only have one hundred kroner, that’s all.’

One hundred kroner. Five tickets. It meant she would have to keep going tonight. She had left it to the last minute. Unsold tickets had to be returned to Brown Owl tomorrow, and she had still many tickets left to sell.

‘Well, at least it’s a start,’ Larsen said, and gave her the hundred-kroner note and took the tickets she gave him.

‘Now be careful,’ he said, sounding a little anxious when she was back on the steps outside again.

He stared out into the darkness behind her and wrinkled his nose. It was clear that something had happened to him after the pig’s head incident. He had not seemed so nervous the last time she had called.

Karianne Kolstad walked across the yard and back out through the gate. She continued towards Vik Bridge and was sorely tempted just to go home, forget all about selling tickets, when an unreal scene suddenly unfolded right in front of her.

At first, she couldn’t believe her eyes. It seemed impossible. Here in Tangen. The most boring place on earth, where nothing ever happened. Right across the road, there was a small house. She didn’t think that anyone lived here, she had always believed that it was empty; no one had ever seen anyone come or go. Now, the front door was wide open and a small girl was running out of it. The girl wore a strange dress and was screaming at the top of her voice. Karianne Kolstad recognized her immediately. She had seen her in the newspapers. There were pictures of her on her Facebook page. It was girl number five. It was Marion Munch.

Karianne froze, her mouth wide open. The little girl had jumped down the steps but had tripped and fallen in the gravel. A woman came chasing after her. Marion got back on her feet, glanced over her shoulder, let out a scream and ran on. The woman behind her was much faster, she snatched her, placed her hand over the little girl’s mouth, carried her back inside the house and closed the door.

Then everything fell quiet again.

For a moment Karianne Kolstad was in shock. She had dropped the lottery tickets and the money and her mobile on the ground.

Then she bent down quickly, picked up her mobile and pressed 1-1-2 with trembling fingers.

Chapter 85

Lukas put down the gun on the ground and inserted the key into the padlock. It was chilly outside now; he could feel the cold evening air on his neck. He unlocked the padlock and lifted up the heavy wooden hatch. He shone his torch into the dark space. The light swept down a long ladder and hit the concrete floor some metres further below. He stuck the gun into the lining of his trousers and descended the ladder. The boy and Rakel were standing with a blanket wrapped around them when he came down. He pointed the light at them but lowered it when he saw them shield their eyes against the strong beam.

‘I’m Jesus,’ he said, making his voice as calm as he could. ‘Don’t be scared, I’m not here to hurt you.’

He shone the torch around the room and found what he was looking for. A jerry can in front of a shelf of cardboard boxes. The boy and Rakel crossed the concrete floor and came towards him reluctantly.

‘Can we go now?’ the boy asked tentatively.