Iben takes a few more steps down. Denim Suit is getting closer. She turns around, facing up towards the landing. With her hands, she grasps the rails on both sides of the stairs and pushes off with her arms and legs for maximum speed. Her body flies upward and forward. Back on the landing she doesn’t turn the corner but puts one foot on the guardrail and throws herself at the old stained-glass panes. Protecting her face with her arms against the shards of many-coloured glass, she falls less awkwardly than she did that night in Anne-Lise’s garden. She is on her feet at once, unaware of how badly she is cut. She runs along the wall to the entrance leading to the communal bicycle storage in the basement. She hears no steps. The far end leads to the street behind Malene’s house.
She keeps running. The air is much colder now. Normally, taking in lungfuls of icy air would hurt, but it doesn’t. She is becoming conscious of the pain in her hands and feet.
At last, she reaches Gunnar’s street.
50
She throws herself into his arms. Her nose is running and her wrist is bleeding, making large, dark stains on his shirt.
Gunnar carries her inside. ‘Iben, what on earth …?’
He dries her face gently with his shirt and asks where the blood is coming from. She is crying so much he cannot make sense of what she’s trying to say.
He examines her hands and starts picking fragments of glass from her blouse.
‘Iben, listen. You need to get out of your blouse and take a bath so we can see where your wounds are …’
‘I want to lie down.’
‘Of course. You will. But first we need to find out where you’re bleeding.’
‘I want to lie down!’
‘Yes, yes. Of course.’ He helps her to the sofa.
The light is too strong. She closes her eyes, but the brightness won’t go away. It seems to make dancing patterns against her lids. She asks for a cushion to cover her eyes. With her face partly hidden, she tries to pull herself together.
‘We have to get hold of Malene and warn her. It is very important.’
She tries to explain what happened, but hears how garbled she sounds.
‘Iben, let’s phone the police right now.’
Iben doesn’t reply.
‘Are you absolutely sure that no one saw you coming here?’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘Yes, we definitely have to phone the police.’
‘Wait. Just a little.’
‘But Iben, it’s essential …’
‘Just wait.’ Her whole body is shaking.
Gunnar gets up.
‘Don’t go.’
‘I was going to phone a doctor.’
‘I’ve only got a few cuts on my hands. That’s all. It looks worse than it is.’
‘Sure, but …’
‘Gunnar, please stay. You’re not to phone anyone.’
She hears him sit down in a chair next to her.
‘I need to get some paper towels and a bowl of water. I can clean your cuts while you lie here. That’s all right, isn’t it?’
‘Yes. I’d like that.’
‘Tell you what … I won’t phone anyone until tomorrow morning.’
‘That’s very good of you. I’m just so …’
When Iben takes the cushion away, the first thing she sees is that the room is full of books, just like her own. The flat is large with ample space between the pieces of furniture. The effect is somehow unfinished, as if he had been allowed half of the family home after his divorce and let the years pass without buying anything new.
She looks at Gunnar. She wants him to hold her close again, like the moment she arrived. She tries to recall what his warm body felt like. She has found a safe place where Zigic won’t find her and where she will be taken care of. She touches Gunnar’s thigh with her hand and relaxes. She suddenly burps. They both burst out laughing. She begins to feel well enough to feel self-conscious in front of him.
Slow footsteps. Somewhere. Iben can’t quite make it out, but they could be coming from outside the door at the far end of the room.
She reacts without thinking. In an instant, the knife is in her hand. Her other hand, still flecked with drying blood, has grabbed a piece of orange stone that was on the coffee table. Before Gunnar can say a thing, Iben is standing, ready to fight.
Malene steps into the room, a damp towel wrapped round her head. ‘Iben? What are you doing here?’
Malene looks very sensual. Her hair and body are radiating warmth.
‘Oh, no! My God! Iben? Jesus, what have you done?’
Iben blinks several times and shouts: ‘What have you done?’
‘But … didn’t I tell you? Gunnar and I are together.’
Iben had no idea. ‘No, what’s going on with Zigic?’
‘Zigic? What do you mean?’
‘Have you stolen his address list? Are you blackmailing him?’
‘No! No way!’ By now Malene looks terrified. She must think that Iben is out of her mind.
Still, Iben can’t stop herself from almost screaming: ‘You and your tricks! You almost had me killed!’
‘What?’
‘Who do you work for? Apart from the Centre?’
‘But Iben, I don’t understand.’
Malene is so believable — as if she has done nothing wrong. It’s too much. Gunnar tries to intervene and calm the two women down.
‘You keep out of this!’
He reaches out to hold her, but Iben backs away quickly and raises her knife.
‘Watch out! Stay away from me!’
Gunnar and Malene stare at her. Suddenly Iben comes to her senses. ‘Oh, no, please. Gunnar, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it. You know that I’d never …’
Everyone is frozen.
‘It’s all so confusing.’
‘Don’t worry. I understand, perfectly. Come and lie back down.’
‘I’m not at all like this … I don’t want you to think that I am …’
‘Iben, believe me, we both understand. We’ll look after you.’
Iben fights her suspicion that they are collaborating with Zigic. She must not be paranoid. She notices the bloodstains on the sofa. Gunnar won’t be able to use it any more. She mumbles, ‘I’m sorry,’ and lies down slowly, after putting Gunnar’s stone back in its place.
Iben begins to tell Gunnar and Malene the story, but more coherently this time. Several times she interrupts herself to ask Malene what kind of contact she has had with Zigic. Malene insists that she has had nothing to do with Zigic or his files. He must have mistaken her for someone else.
Gunnar goes to the kitchen to find something for Iben to eat. Iben starts cleaning her left arm but Malene stops her.
‘Iben, let me do it. Just lie down.’
How strange to be looked after by Malene. During the last six years it has always been the other way round.
For the first time Iben picks up the smell of sex that hovers in the air — as if Gunnar and Malene have been on a sexual rampage for days, using every available surface. Iben feels so bitter. Everything is falling apart. The pain is starting to get to her.
Malene must have noticed. She produces two strong painkillers from her handbag. Iben lies still, waiting for the pills to take effect, and looks at Malene’s hands. While she was being held captive by Zigic, those hands were caressing Gunnar.
Gunnar returns with a bottle of whisky, a plate of sandwiches and mugs of hot chocolate for all of them.
Iben repeats how Zigic captured her all over again.
This time Malene says they ought to phone the police.