Her husband had died almost a year ago. He had fallen from an unsafe building under construction. Sarah Kiese was glad that he was dead. He had been a terrible husband. He had nearly ruined her life. She had wanted nothing more to do with him. She hadn’t even attended his funeral. The smell of other women. Money disappearing from her purse, from the jar on top of the fridge, which she had saved up to pay the bills. The disappointed expression on her daughter’s face on the rare occasions he came home but refused to play or talk to her. A memory stick from a solicitor containing a blurry film about something he had built. An underground room. She had put it out of her mind. Forgotten about it. She had her own life now. She had a new flat. She was happy for the first time in years. But then it had come back to her. The movie on the memory stick. The one she had deleted. They were offering a reward of one million kroner. Perhaps she had lied to the surly woman on the Incident Line. Perhaps the reward had prompted her to ring. It had certainly caught her attention. Her husband had seemed terrified. And he used to be a tough guy. His trembling voice had told her to go to the police should anything happen to him. He had built a room underground, in the middle of nowhere. With a service lift and a fan. She had deleted the film. She wanted nothing more to do with him. She felt clammy just thinking about him. More than anything, she wanted to throw up. She didn’t want him in her head or her life any more, so she had deleted the film, and that had made it all go away. Right until last week, when she saw the newspapers. A reward of one million kroner to anyone providing information leading to a conviction in the case. Pauline, Johanne, Andrea and Karoline. And that was when it hit her.
Her husband had built the room where the girls had been held prisoners.
Sarah Kiese found some chewing gum in her handbag and glanced around. She had been told to wait in the street. She thought Oslo Police had their headquarters in Grønland, but it would appear not. No, that was still true, but perhaps they had other offices. Suddenly, a door opened and a tall woman with blonde hair and plenty of freckles came towards her.
‘Sarah Kiese?’
‘Yes?’
‘Hi, my name is Anette,’ the police officer said, showing her warrant card.
‘I’m sorry for not calling earlier,’ Sarah apologized. ‘The lines were busy the whole time and, well, my husband and I were not exactly friends.’
‘Don’t worry about it,’ said the policewoman with the freckles. ‘It’s great that you’re here now. Did you bring the laptop you told us about?’
‘Yes,’ Sarah Kiese nodded, showing her the bag.
‘That’s great. Follow me.’
The policewoman called Anette gestured to a door in a yellow brick building and held up her card to a scanner.
They waited quietly in the lift. Anette was much nicer than the woman on the telephone. Sarah was pleased about that. She had been worried that she might be criticized for contacting them after such a long time. She had been criticized so much her whole life. She couldn’t take any more.
‘This way, Please.’ Anette smiled, and led the way through the corridors.
They reached another door, which was locked, and Anette ran her card over another scanner. The door opened and they entered a large, airy, modern office landscape. It was buzzing with activity; people were practically running back and forth, and the phones rang nearly all the time.
‘In here.’ The policewoman with the freckles smiled again and showed her into an office behind a glass wall.
A young man with short, tousled hair was sitting with his back to them in front of several computer screens. It looked almost like a scene from a movie, with screens and boxes and cables and small flashing lights and plenty of modern technology all over the place.
‘This is Gabriel Mørk,’ Anette said. ‘Gabriel, meet Sarah Kiese.’
The young man got up and shook her hand.
‘Hello, Sarah.’
‘Hello,’ Sarah said.
‘Please take a seat,’ Anette said, sitting down herself on one of the chairs. ‘Please would you tell us again why you called?’
‘Yes.’ Sarah coughed.
She gave a brief account of her situation. The death of her husband. The lawyer. The memory stick. The movie. The room he had built. How scared he had been. That she was now thinking it might have been about the girls.
‘And you deleted the film from your computer?’ the young man asked her.
She nodded.
‘Was that wrong?’
‘Well, it would have been better if you had kept it, but we’ll find it. Did you bring your laptop?’
Sarah Kiese took the laptop out of her bag and gave it to the young man.
‘And you obviously don’t have the memory stick?’
‘No, that went out with the household rubbish.’
‘Ha-ha, yes, unfortunately I won’t be able to find that,’ the young man said, and winked at her.
Sarah started to smile. They were so nice in here. She felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She had been scared that they would be strict, tell her off, like the woman on the phone.
‘I would like to take a written statement. Is that all right with you?’ Anette asked.
‘Yes.’ Sarah nodded.
‘Would you like a cup of coffee?’
‘Yes, please.’
The police officer with the freckles smiled once more and left the room.
Chapter 59
After morning prayers Pastor Simon told Lukas that the two of them would be spending the day together. Lukas could hardly believe his ears. Together? Just the two of them? He had felt flushed with excitement. Lukas was often near Pastor Simon, but the pastor was always busy with something or other; usually, he was in conversation with God, or preaching the word of God to the apostates who needed to hear it, and Lukas was mostly told to carry out other important tasks, such as washing the floor or doing the laundry or making sure that Pastor Simon had clean bedlinen. One evening some years ago, Pastor Simon had said that Lukas was the person closest to him, his second-in-command, and since that day Lukas had walked tall; he had stood by the pastor’s side, his back straight and his chin up. But there was one thing he had been longing for, not that he wanted to complain about the past – indeed not, that would never occur to him – but if he was allowed to miss anything, then it was that he would also like to be by the astor’s side when it came to spiritual matters.
And that was what Pastor Simon had inferred today. Lukas had seen it in his eyes. Today, you and I will be together, Lukas, just you and me. That was what the pastor had meant. Today, Lukas would be initiated. Today, he would learn the secrets and hear God speak. He was sure of it. They had left the farm, Porta Caeli, after morning prayers and breakfast. The women on the farm really knew how to cook. Lukas was proud of Pastor Simon for having picked such wonderful women. Fifteen women who obeyed the word of God, who could cook, keep house and do laundry: they were hard workers. The kind of women they would need when they got to Heaven. Not self-obsessed, vain women who spent their time lying in front of the TV, painting themselves like whores, demanding that men did all the work.
Lukas started the car and drove through the gate. God had given them lovely weather; the sun was high in the sky and he was increasingly convinced that today was going to be the day. Today, he would be initiated. He didn’t know very much about it, for obvious reasons. The pastor had dropped a few hints and Lukas had also overheard him talking to God several times. Lukas felt a little guilty for eavesdropping, but he couldn’t help himself. The pastor would often talk to God in his office. Lukas always made sure he was washing the floor outside it when he heard voices in there. In that way, he could be on his knees scrubbing, while at the same time being filled with the word of God without there being anything improper about it. It was the pastor who had paid for Lukas’s driving lessons. In the same way he had paid for everything else that Lukas had. A black suit for special occasions. A white suit for prayer meetings. Three pairs of shoes. And a bicycle. And his food, obviously, and his room at the attic of the Chapel. The pastor was rich. God had given him money. Pastor Simon was not one of those people who did not believe in money. Many people would preach about this very subject, how you would not need money if you had God, but the pastor knew better, obviously. In the next world, you won’t need any money – there, we will be taken care of – but in this world different rules apply. Lukas never read the newspapers and he did not watch television but, even so, he knew that this world was founded on money. Some people were poor and others were rich. Poverty was often a punishment from God. There could be many reasons why people had to be punished. They might be homosexuals, or drug addicts, or fornicators, or blasphemers, or they might have spoken ill of their parents. Sometimes, God would punish whole nations or continents. Often with floods or droughts or other plagues, but mostly by making sure they were poor. It was not the case that all rich people had been given their money by God, Lukas knew that. Some of them had stolen the money from God. It was straightforward. All money belonged to God, and if someone had too much and had not been given it by God, like Pastor Simon had been, then they had acquired it dishonestly and so needed to be punished.