Peek A Boo I See You (Emma Frost #5) (16 page)

"They don't actually make a hero out of him. They just tell people that there is a purpose to what he is doing, even if it is horrible."

"But that's exactly what he wants. They're just doing precisely what he wants them to do. If he can get his message out like this, then who knows who else will follow him and try to do something similar? There are plenty of lunatics out there."

44

February 2014

I
FELT FRUSTRATED AND
angry most of the day. It was such an annoying feeling to be played with the way The Caring Killer was playing me and everyone else on the island. Even the media from the mainland had caught interest in the story now and it was all over. They were calling me like crazy asking me to tell everything I knew about The Caring Killer and why I thought he had chosen me. I refused to talk to any of them. I simply couldn't be a part of all this, of this grand plan of his. I felt like a puppet.

My mother hadn't shown her face all day and I was beginning to wonder if she had even come home at all. I tried not to care. At least I had a great morning with my dad and didn't have to worry about her coming down and ruining everything. I thought about going to her room several times to see if she was up there, but decided not to. It was none of my business what she did with her life.

Morten called me in the afternoon, just before the kids returned from school. I was happy to hear his voice, but hated the fact that all we ever talked about these days was the killer and the case. I wanted Morten to catch him as quickly as possible so I could get back to my life again, but, as it turned out, it wasn’t so easy. I didn't even dare to turn on my computer for fear of what might wait for me next. I was certain The Caring Killer wasn't done yet.

"So, what's new?" I asked Morten.

"Busy morning. I thought you'd like to know that Dagmar is going to be fine. We went to the mainland to visit her this morning and interview her and the doctor told us it didn't look like any of her internal organs had suffered any damage. They were going to keep her for a week and run more tests just to be sure, but so far it seems like you've saved her."

"Well, you were there as well," I said, thinking it was so sweet of him to try and comfort me by telling me this. "I wasn't alone."

"I know. But you really did well yesterday. Making her throw up saved her life, they told me. I can't believe you did that."

"I guess my motherly instincts took over," I chuckled. "It really wasn't so bad."

"Pretty brave if you ask me," Morten said. "Should have been you on the front cover of that paper this morning instead. You're the hero here."

"Thanks, that's really sweet of you to say."

"I mean it." He paused.

"So what did Dagmar tell you? Did she see his face?"

"She can't remember anything. Apparently, one of the pills she was forced to take causes amnesia, so she doesn't remember one damn thing. All she remembers is buying the pills at the pharmacy and coming home with them. Everything after that is completely blacked out."

"Oh no. That's awful."

"What about the other woman? The one who was attacked in her living room?" I asked.

"It's the strangest thing. She's going to be fine too. She was lucky, the doctor said, but the stab didn't hit anything vital. She lost a lot of blood, but will survive. She was actually able to talk to us when we were in the hospital to talk to Dagmar."

"Did she see his face?"

"That's the strange part about it. She told us she was watching TV when, suddenly, the door to her house was kicked in and…get this…a ninja jumped inside her living room and tried to kill her with his ninja-sword. She told us he was dressed exactly like a ninja, all in black and it covered his face. She could see his eyes, though, so we'll have a sketcher make a drawing of them."

"Doesn't exactly match with the man with heavy glasses that we had on the first sketch," I said.

"Unless he was wearing the glasses as a disguise."

"True."

"The strangest part of what she told me was what The Caring Killer said to her before he stabbed her."

"Don't call him that. It's catching on," I said.

"I'm sorry. I can't help it. Everyone down here calls him that. It's horrible. I know," he said apologetically.

"I know. I do it myself. So what did he say to her?"

"He called himself The Deliverer. He told her he was going to
set her free from her fears
."

"What?" I asked. This was getting more and more strange.

"I know. It sounds raving mad, doesn't it? He's a pure lunatic if you ask me," Morten said.

"I don't know about that," I said.

"What do you mean?"

"It doesn't sound like him."

"Why not?" Morten asked, surprised. "It sounds exactly like him if you ask me. He has a purpose, remember? He wanted to set her free of her fears."

"Yeah, but his purpose was different before. It was to have us focus on things that weren't right. This seems somehow much different."

"It sounds exactly the same to me," Morten said. I could sense a slight annoyance in his voice. He really wanted it to be our killer. He wanted him to be raving mad, but I didn't think he was. The Caring Killer was smart, intelligent and had everything planned thoroughly.

"There is also the matter of the sword," Morten continued. "It could easily be the one used to decapitate our two social workers."

"Two?"

"Yes. It turns out Marianne Moeller from the souvenir shop used to be a social worker as well. She retired two years ago and opened her own shop downtown. According to her neighbors, she was making a lifelong dream come true."

"That makes sense," I said. "She wasn't a random victim. It was deliberate."

"Could be. It turns out, she’s been dead for two weeks. Everybody thought she was on vacation. She was supposed to go to Greece and had told everybody she would be gone and the shop was closed. She loved to travel and has no family, so no one wondered where she was. Get this. It was her blood we found on Tine Solvang's face. We ran a test and it matched."

"The other social worker? So he kept them in the same freezer, did he?"

"Looks like it."

I felt nauseated again. This entire case did that to me. It was frustrating. I wondered who had a freezer big enough to fit two women's bodies. I shook my head and tried to get rid of the thought. It was no use.

"So are we still on for tonight?" Morten asked.

"What?"

"Don't tell me you forgot?"

"Uh…I didn't forget?"

"You forgot what day it is today."

I tried hard to remember.

"I got nothing."

"It's Valentine's day."

"Valentine's day. I was just about to say that. Of course I didn't forget. We were supposed to go out. It's no problem. I'll ask my mom to look after the kids," I said and looked at the door like I expected her to walk through any minute now.

As soon as I find out where she is.

"Great. I'll pick you up at six. I’ve made reservations."

"See you then."

45

July 2007

A
LEXANDRA HAD TO BRING
baby Olivia with her to the meeting with the social worker at City Hall. She was waiting in the office when a woman in her mid-fifties entered. She looked at Alexandra with a grunt, then forced a smile.

"Alexandra Holm?" she asked, sitting behind her desk.

"Yes," Alexandra said.

"Marianne Moeller," the woman said. "I've been appointed as your social worker." She opened a file and flipped a few pages. "Your son, Samuel tried to kill himself recently?"

She looked at Alexandra over her glasses. The look in her eyes made Alexandra feel uncomfortable.

"Yes. He…he's had a lot of problems…uh…We've tried many things, medicine, therapy, and have seen every specialist we could, but each one gave him a different diagnosis and nothing ever helped. He's a very sensitive boy who can, at times, get very aggressive."

The social worker was nodding while looking down at the papers. "And he was at a boarding school when it happened?"

"Yes. We thought it would be good for him to have some discipline so…"

"After he had been homeschooled for years?" Marianne Moeller asked.

Alexandra didn't care much for the tone of her voice. It was condescending.

"Yes. He was expelled from school…I tried to homeschool him but couldn't…" Alexandra was about to cry. She hated to have to admit to people that she couldn't handle her own boy. "Well, to be honest, I couldn't control him."

"And you didn't think it was kind of a drastic move to suddenly put the boy in a boarding school far away from home, a home that had been his all his life up until then?"

"Well…yes, but…what I'm saying is, we couldn't…I couldn't…he was so aggressive and I…We had nowhere else to go with him. No other school would take him. What should we have done?"

The social worker shrugged. "What should you have done? Well, what do you think other parents do with their children? They discipline them, they raise them, and they punish them when they misbehave. Having an aggressive boy is not that unusual. Plus, maybe you should have looked a little into why the boy was being this aggressive, don't you think? See a family therapist. Not always focus on Samuel as being the problem. When a boy acts out in school, it is my experience that it is most often because things aren't well at home. Do your husband and you fight a lot?"

Alexandra shook her head, perplexed. "No. I mean it has taken a toll on our marriage to care for Samuel, but I hardly think…"

"Does your husband care about the boy?" Marianne Moeller asked.

Alexandra stared at her with wide open eyes. She had never felt so humiliated. "I don't see what that has to do with…"

"Does he love him? Does he hug and kiss him and tell him how wonderful he is? Do his eyes light up when he looks at him?"

"Well no, but that's…"

The social worker nodded. "More often than not, the problem is with the relationship with the father. Maybe you should work on that. And maybe you should consider that fact that Samuel might have tried to commit suicide because you and your husband suddenly decided to remove him from everything he knew and loved, placed him far away and decided to start a new family without him. Am I wrong?"

Alexandra felt the anger rise in her. She considered getting up and leaving, but she couldn't. She needed this woman's help badly.

"I don't…"

"And now you want the county to take care of him, right?" the social worker interrupted her. "Like so many other parents, you screwed up and you want us to fix it, to take the boy."

"I just heard about Hummelgaarden and heard that they do amazing things for children with mental illness. I just thought that maybe it could help him to go there. Help all of us. I have the baby to look after, as well. I simply don't have…"

"The energy to take care of a boy who needs extra attention; boy, have I heard that said in this office…many times." Marianne Moeller sighed. "The thing is, Hummelgaarden is very popular. It's fully booked for months. There’s a waiting list. I could put you on that list, but to tell you the truth, your boy isn't exactly material for Hummelgaarden. Right now, we rush in patients who are being appointed here by the court. He hasn't committed any crime. So, he will most likely be overlooked, even if he gets to the top of the waiting list."

"So, you're telling me if he went out and stole a car, then he could get in?"

Marianne Moeller shrugged. "I'm not allowed to say that, but yes, that would be a reason for me to push this thing forward."

 Alexandra scoffed. "That's ridiculous. The boy is dangerous. He has threatened me on several occasions. Doesn't that count for anything?"

"Not if it hasn't been reported and if he hasn't been convicted of anything. No. I need the court's word that he is dangerous."

Alexandra couldn't believe what she was hearing. It simply couldn't be true. She shook her head and looked angrily at the woman in front of her.

"Well, maybe we don't have to wait all that long. Maybe he'll kill someone and then I guess the door will be open, huh?" Alexandra snorted and got up from her chair.

Marianne Moeller took off her glasses and rubbed her forehead. "Listen. There might be something I can do for you."

Alexandra sat down again. She threw a glance at Olivia who was still sleeping in her carrycot. She was such a good sleeper. It still amazed Alexandra how calm she always was. Even when awake. She was such a joy.

"Like what?" she asked.

"Well they have a program for people like you. We can appoint Samuel to three appointments at Hummelgaarden. Three days where he can go there and stay all day and talk to one of our counselors. But that is all he can get. It's all I have."

Alexandra nodded. "I'll take it."

46

February 2014

I
FINALLY DECIDED TO
go and check in my mother's room and ask her if she could take care of Victor tonight. I thought about letting Maya babysit, but was pretty sure she had told me on another occasion that she had made plans with her best friend for tonight.

I knocked gently on the door. "Mom?"

No one answered. I knocked again. Slightly louder this time. "Mom? Are you in there?"

"Good morning, sweetie," a voice said behind me.

Startled, I turned and looked into my mother's face. She was wearing nothing but a towel around her waist.

"I was just taking a shower," she said. She walked past me and into the room. I followed her inside.

"Did you sleep until now? It's two in the afternoon."

She shrugged. "Well, I was out a little late last night. I thought I'd sleep in. Then, I spent some time in bed chatting with Arne on Facebook."

I closed my eyes and growled. I don't know what it was. I probably just didn't enjoy watching my mother act like a teenager.