‘Who? Gabriel? Yes, absolutely. I like him. I’m glad we hired him.’
Mia took another Fisherman’s Friend and opened the window slightly.
‘Did you get anything from him? About Isegran Fort?
‘Absolutely.’ Mia nodded.
She repeated what Gabriel had just told her.
‘Damn.’ Munch swore softly to himself. ‘So this is about me? It’s my fault that these girls are dying?’
Munch narrowed his eyes and banged the steering wheel hard.
‘We don’t know that for sure,’ Mia said. ‘How long before we get there?’
‘One and a half hours,’ Munch said.
‘I think I’ll take a nap,’ Mia said.
‘Good idea.’ Munch nodded. ‘Have one for me, too, while you’re at it.’
Chapter 50
The sun was rising when they reached the police cordons. Munch showed them his warrant card and they were waved through by a young police officer with messy hair who looked as if he had just got out of bed. They parked the car outside a small red building called Café Galeien, where they were met by Curry, who guided them along the old stone wall. Mia could make out the seaside promenade on the other side where the bronze statues would be located. Edvard Munch’s mother and aunt. Laura Cathrine Munch and Karen Bjølstad. Mia knew a lot about Edvard Munch. Most people from Åsgårdstrand did. Their little town had always been proud that he had lived there, even though the fine ladies back in the day had twirled their parasols in disgust when they encountered the disreputable artist. Typical, isn’t it? Mia thought, as she spotted the white plastic tent the crime-scene officers had erected. Back then, they had despised him, but today we’ve conveniently forgotten all about that. Did that apply to all of Norway’s great artists? Did they have to die before we started valuing them? She was aware that this was not an original thought. She had heard it from her mother. Art and literature had always been highly valued in her childhood home. She had often sat by the kitchen table listening to her mother talking; it was almost like a lecture at school. Sigrid and her as the pupils, each with a bowl of porridge in front of them and their mother, Eva, as the eager teacher.
Curry seemed surprisingly wound up and kept talking all the way to the tent. The experienced police officer could come across as cold and hard, with his shaved head and muscular body, but Mia knew better. Curry was extremely talented and had a big heart, even though he looked and acted like a bulldog.
‘Two students found them. A couple. From Glemmen College. They were very upset, so we sent them home.’
‘Anything to do with this?’ Munch asked.
‘No, no, they could barely get a word out. I’ve never seen two students sober up so quickly in all my life. I think the discovery made the alcohol evaporate from their bodies.’
‘Any observations from the neighbourhood?’ Mia asked.
‘Not yet,’ Curry said. ‘Fredrikstad Police are doing door-to-door inquiries now. But I doubt they’ll come back with anything.’
‘Why not?’ Mia asked.
‘Is that a serious question?’ Curry smiled wryly.
‘It’s not exactly amateur hour, is it?’
They reached the tent just as an older man in a white plastic overall emerged from it. Mia was surprised to see a familiar face. She had worked several cases with criminal pathologist Ernst Hugo Vik, but she thought he had retired by now.
‘Munch. Mia.’ Vik nodded to them as they arrived.
‘Hello, Ernst,’ Munch said. ‘Did they drag you all the way from Oslo for this?’
‘No.’ Vik sighed. ‘I was hiding in my cabin, trying to get some peace, not that it did any good.’
‘What have we got?’ Mia asked.
Vik pulled down the white plastic hood and peeled off his gloves. He lit a cigarette and kicked a bit of dirt off his boots.
‘They haven’t been lying there long. One hour max before they were found would be my guess.’
‘And the time of death?’
‘The same.’ Vik sighed again.
‘They were killed in situ?’
‘It looks like it,’ the man said. ‘But I can’t tell you for certain until we get them on the table. What’s going on, Munch? I have to say it’s one of the weirdest cases I’ve ever seen. Rigorous.’
‘What do you mean?’ Mia said.
‘Well,’ Vik said, taking another drag on his cigarette. ‘What can I say? For a ritual murder, it’s very tidy. The girls are neat and clean. Dressed. Satchels. And then there’s this pig’s head? Damned if I know. You take a look for yourself. I need a break.’
The old man stuffed the gloves into his pocket and shuffled towards the car park. Munch and Mia put on the white overalls that had been put out for them and entered the tent.
Karoline Mykle was lying on the ground with her hands folded across her chest. She was wearing a yellow doll’s dress. A satchel had been placed by her feet. Andrea Lyng lay only a few metres way; she, too, had her hands folded on her chest and a satchel near her white shoes. Both girls wore identical signs around their necks, just like Pauline and Johanne. ‘I’m travelling alone.’ An almost religious scene with a grotesque pig’s head placed in the middle. Mia Krüger put on her gloves and bent over Andrea. She held up her small white hand and studied her fingernails.
‘Three,’ she nodded.
She carefully replaced the hand on the girl’s chest and went over to Karoline.
‘Four.’
At that moment, Munch’s mobile rang. He looked at the display but ignored the call. The phone rang again.
‘I don’t bloody believe it,’ he said, and pressed the red button for the second time.
‘Language,’ Mia said.
She nodded in the direction of the girls and got up again.
‘Sorry,’ Munch said as the phone rang for the third time.
He pressed the red button again and, almost immediately, Mia’s mobile started to ring. She saw Gabriel’s name on the display.
‘Gabriel?’ Munch whispered.
Mia nodded and pressed the button to ignore the call.
‘Did he just ring you?’
Munch nodded as Mia’s mobile rang again. She stepped outside the tent to answer the call.
‘This had better be important,’ Mia snarled.
Gabriel sounded upset, almost out of breath.
‘I have to talk Munch,’ he panted.
‘He’s busy. What is it?’
‘I’ve decoded the message,’ Gabriel started.
‘What message?’
‘He got an email. A challenge. A coded message. Margrete_08. I’ve cracked it. The Gronsfeld cipher. I’ve decoded it.’
‘Surely it can wait?’ Mia sighed.
‘No, it definitely can’t.’
The young hacker was practically screaming down the phone now.
‘You have to tell him. Now.’
‘Tell him what? What was the message?’
Gabriel fell silent for a moment, almost as if he was too scared to say what he had found out.
‘Gabriel?’ Mia said impatiently.
‘Tick-tock little Marion = 5.’
‘What?’
‘Tick-tock little Marion is number 5.’
‘Christ!’ Mia exclaimed, and ran into the tent to tell Holger Munch.
IV
Chapter 51
Miriam Munch was sitting in the back of her father’s Audi, trying to keep her emotions in check. On orders from her father, she wore a woolly cap pulled over her ears and large sunglasses. Marion was lying on the seat next to her, curled up under a blanket which completely concealed the little girl. Miriam had not understood very much when her father had woken her up two days ago and told her to lock all the doors. Don’t let anyone in. Keep Marion home from nursery.
What do you mean, keep her home from nursery?
For God’s sake, Miriam, just do as I say!
The thought had occurred to her, obviously. Miriam Munch was not stupid. Quite the contrary. Miriam Munch had always been one of the smartest girls in school. Ever since she was little, she had found it incredibly easy to do what others struggled with. Rivers in Asia. Capitals of South America. Fractions. Algebra. English. Norwegian. She had soon learned to keep quiet about her cleverness, not to come first in every test, not to put up her hand too often. She also possessed emotional intelligence. She wanted to have friends. She didn’t want to be thought of as better than anyone else.