‘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.
Mia got a foul taste in her mouth and ordered another Jäger to wash it away. The alcohol made her feel good. She was starting to get a little drunk, but it made it easier to think. She found another piece of paper and placed it alongside the first. Satchels. Books. Paper. The names on the books. Doll’s dresses. I’m travelling alone. ‘These go together,’ she quickly scribbled. They add up. Pig’s blood. ‘Who’s there?’
‘They don’t add up,’ she wrote below it. Two from nursery school. Two in their homes. Ten dresses. A woman. Mia ordered another beer. It was happening now. Her head was clearer. The transvestite. A woman. Gender. Playing with gender? Gender confusion? Shame. Guilt. ‘I’m travelling alone.’ The first symbols were clear proof of intelligence. Satchel. Sign. Doll’s dresses. The others didn’t fit in with the rest: they were just white noise. Pig’s blood? ‘Who’s there?’ She tore off another sheet and placed it next to the first two. Knocked back her beer and ordered another one and a chaser. This was it. She was on to something. She wrote ‘woman’ at the top of the third piece of paper. Hønefoss. Maternity ward. Washed and got the girls ready. Anaesthesia. Care. Nurse? Photofit. Looks like everyone else. Invisible? How can you hide in plain sight? She left a section of the paper blank and wrote something at the bottom. Callous. Serious. Different-coloured eyes. One brown and one blue. Schizophrenia? One in Maridalen. One near Hadelandsveien. Forest. Hidden. Have to search. Have to work. Have to hunt. On display, and yet hidden. She wants to show us what she’s done, but not make it so obvious that we don’t have to look. Pig’s blood? ‘Who’s there?’ Why so clean first? Serious? Why so unclean later? Mia ordered more alcohol and found another sheet of paper. It was starting to flow now, there was something there. Something was taking shape, but it refused to come into focus. Pride. Look at me. Look at what I’ve done. Toni J. W. Smith. You’re useless, and I’m going to prove it. It’s me against you. A game. Why so clean first, and then so unclean? Blood? Pig’s blood? Staged. So theatrical. Fake. Ignore it. It was loosening up inside her now. A rush of unstoppable thoughts. That was it. Fake. Ignore it. Mia scribbled furiously; she almost forgot her drinks. Ignore it. Not everything matters. Not the staged elements. Not the theatricality. It is dishonest. Fake. It doesn’t add up. Look at what does add up. What is true. Which symbols point where? What do we need to address and what can we disregard? Is that the game?