So of course the thought had crossed her mind. Her daughter was due to start school this autumn. And her father was heading the investigation into the murder of four girls. She was not an idiot. But she had been stubborn. There was no way she would allow herself to be intimidated. Her life would not be destroyed by some madman. She had taken precautions, of course, who hadn’t? She took Marion to and from nursery school herself. She had already said no to letting Marion go to birthday parties, to her daughter’s great despair. She had organized a meeting at the nursery with staff and parents of all girls due to start school that autumn. Some of the parents had taken time off work, too frightened to send their children to nursery; some thought the nursery ought to shut temporarily; others wanted to be with their children – it had been mayhem, but Miriam had managed to calm them down. Convinced them that it was about living as normal a life as possible. Not least for the girls’ sake. But all the time there had been a nagging voice at the back of her head: You might be at greater risk. You have the most to fear. And now this had happened.
Miriam wrapped the blanket more tightly around her daughter, who was sound asleep. It was dark outside, and the black Audi drove smoothly through the almost deserted streets. Miriam Munch was not frightened, but she was concerned. And sad. And frustrated. And irritated. And outraged.
‘Is everything OK in the back?’
Mia Krüger turned to look at her. They had yet to tell Miriam why she was being moved again, the second time in as many days, but deep down they guessed she knew.
‘We’re fine.’ Miriam nodded. ‘Where are we going this time?’
‘A flat we have at our disposal,’ her father said, glancing at her in the rear-view mirror.
‘Isn’t it about time someone told me what’s going on?’ Miriam said.
She tried sounding stern, but she was exhausted. She had barely slept for two days.
‘It’s for your own good,’ her father said, looking at her in the rear-view mirror again.
‘Has the killer made a threat against Marion? Are you doing this just to be on the safe side? I have a right to know what’s going on, don’t I?’
‘You’re safe as long as you do as I say,’ her father said, jumping a red light at a junction.
She knew what her father was like once he had made up his mind about something, so she didn’t push him. Suddenly, she felt as if she were fourteen again. He had been incredibly strict when she was younger, but he had mellowed with age. Back in those days, there had been no point in trying to talk to him. No, Miriam, you can’t wear that to school, that skirt is far too short. No, Miriam, you have to be home by ten. No, Miriam, I don’t like you seeing that Robert, I don’t think he’s good for you. Her paranoid police-officer father micromanaging her teenage life. It had raised her status among her friends, though. Those who had it toughest at home got the most sympathy from the other students at school. Besides, she knew how to pull the wool over her father’s eyes, no matter how good a police officer he was. Towards the end, he had barely been at home, which meant he rarely presented a problem for her. Her mother, too, had been bound up in her own concerns. Christ Almighty, adults, parents, did they really think their children didn’t know what was going on? Miriam had known about Rolf before the eruption at home. Her mother, whose routine you could set your watch by. Who suddenly had to ‘see a friend’? Who suddenly got a lot of calls, which turned out to be ‘wrong number’. Please.
‘Is she asleep?’
Mia Krüger turned around again and looked at Marion, who was still curled up under the blanket.
Miriam nodded. She liked Mia, always had. There was something about her personality. She was charismatic. She had great presence. At times, she might seem a little distant and eccentric, but not to Miriam. Mia reminded her of herself; perhaps that was why she had taken to her. Intelligent and strong, but also quite vulnerable.
‘Your father received a coded message via a website,’ Mia said.
‘Mia!’ her father hissed, but Mia simply continued.
‘The sender pretended to be a Swedish mathematician called Margrete. When we cracked the code, it turned out to be a direct threat against Marion.’
Miriam could see her father’s face grow redder.
‘Seriously?’ Miriam said.
To her surprise, she realized she was intrigued rather than scared.
‘And how long have you been in contact with her? Online, I mean?’
Her father made no reply. His jaw was clenched and his knuckles white around the steering wheel.
‘Almost two years,’ Mia said.
‘Two years? Two whole years?’
Miriam couldn’t believe her ears.
‘Have you been in contact with this person for two years, Dad? Is that true? Have you been communicating with a killer for two years without realizing it?’
Her father still made no reply. His face was puce now, and he pressed the accelerator hard.
‘He couldn’t have known,’ Mia said. ‘Everyone on that website was anonymous. It could have been anyone.’
‘That’s enough, Mia,’ Holger Munch hissed.
‘What?’ Mia said. ‘Maybe Miriam knows something. If the killer has been in contact with you for two years, he might have contacted her as well? We have to know.’
Without warning, Holger Munch slammed on the brakes and pulled over.
‘You, stay where you are,’ he ordered Miriam in the mirror. ‘You, out.’
‘But Holger,’ Mia protested.
‘Out. Get out of the car.’
Mia unclicked her seatbelt and left the Audi against her better judgement. Holger Munch opened the driver’s door and followed Mia out on to the pavement. Miriam couldn’t hear the exact words, but it was clear that her father was incandescent with rage. He waved his arms about and was practically frothing at the mouth. She could see that Mia was trying to say something, but her father didn’t let her get a word in edgeways. He jabbed his finger right up in her face and, for one moment, Miriam feared that he might slap her. Her father ranted at length and, eventually, Mia stopped talking. She was just nodding now. Then the two police officers got back inside the car. Her father started the engine, and nothing more was said. The mood in the car was tense. Miriam thought it best not to say anything. Two years? Her father had been in touch with a killer that long? No wonder he was livid. Someone had tricked him. And now four girls were dead. Was Marion number five? Had that been the message? Was that why they had to go into hiding? Miriam tightened the blanket around her daughter even more and stroked her hair while the black Audi continued through the night to a safe house not even she knew the location of.
Chapter 52
Mia was standing on the pavement outside the grey apartment block in West Oslo, wondering if someone was watching her. It wasn’t the first time the thought had crossed her mind; ever since she had returned to Oslo she had had this horrible feeling of being followed. She had dismissed it as paranoia. Quite normal for someone in her situation. It was vital not to give into it. She wasn’t anxious by nature, so that wasn’t the problem, but even so, she couldn’t shrug it off. She glanced about her, but she couldn’t see anyone. The streets around her were completely quiet.
They had moved Miriam and her daughter to a safe flat in Frogner. Safe in the sense that it was not listed anywhere. Not in official archives. The night before, they had kept mother and daughter in a flat further east, but Munch had not felt safe there and decided to move them again. The flat they were using now was reserved for politicians and other important visitors who needed protection, but Munch had pulled a few strings on the quiet so that only a small number of people was involved. He was getting really paranoid now, but she could see his point.