Before the Frost Read online

  Time was of the essence. She couldn’t keep wandering around in circles in these sand dunes. She had to make a call. But the phone wasn’t in her pocket. She felt through all her pockets. The hat, she thought. It must have fallen out when I took out the hat. It fell onto the sand and I didn’t hear it. She started crawling around in her own tracks with the flashlight on but she didn’t find it. I’m so incompetent, she thought furiously. Here I am crawling around without a clue. But she forced herself to regain her composure. Again she tried to determine the right direction. From time to time she stopped and let the flashlight cut through the dark.

  At last she found the path she had walked in on. The house with the brightly lit windows was on her left. She veered as far away as she could, then broke into a run toward the dark blue car. It was a moment accompanied by a rush of relief. She looked down at her watch: a quarter past eleven. The time had flown by.

  The arm came out of the darkness from behind, and it gripped her tightly. She couldn’t move; the force holding her was too great. She felt his breath against her cheek. The arm turned her around and a flashlight shone into her face. Without him saying a word she knew that the man looking at her was Torgeir Langaas.

  50

  Dawn came as a slowly creeping shade of gray. The blindfold over Linda’s eyes let in some light and she knew the night was coming to an end. But what would the day bring? It was quiet all around her. Oddly enough, her bowels had held up. It was a stupid thought, but when Langaas had grabbed her it had sped through her mind like a little sentry, screaming: Before you kill me you have to let me go to the bathroom. If there isn’t one around, then leave me for a minute. I’ll crouch in the sand, I always have toilet paper in my pocket, and then I’ll kick the sand over my shit like a cat.

  But of course she hadn’t said anything. Langaas had breathed on her, the flashlight had blinded her eyes. Then he had pushed her aside, put the blindfold over her eyes, and tightened it. She had hit her head when he forced her into the car. Her fear was so great it could only be compared to the terror she felt when she was balancing on the edge of the bridge and arrived at the surprising insight that she didn’t want to die. It had been quiet all around her, just the wind and the roar of the sea.

  Was Langaas still there by the car? She didn’t know, nor did she know how much time passed before the doors to the car were opened. But she deduced from the motion of the car that two people had climbed in, one behind the wheel and the other on the passenger side. The car jerked into action. The person driving was careless and nervous, or simply in a hurry.

  She tried to sense where they were driving. They came out on the main road and turned left, toward Ystad. She also thought she felt them drive through Ystad, but at some point on the road to Malmö she lost control of her inner map. The car turned around, changed direction several times, asphalt gave way to gravel which in turn gave way to asphalt. The car stopped, but no doors opened. It was still quiet. She didn’t know how long she sat there, but it was toward the end of this phase of waiting that the gray light of morning started to trickle in through her blindfold.

  Suddenly the peace was broken by the sound of the car doors being thrown open, and someone pulled her out of the car. She was led along a paved road and then onto a sandy path. She was ushered up four stone steps, noting that the edges were uneven. She imagined that the steps were old. Then she was surrounded by cool air, an echoing coolness. She immediately realized she was in a church. The fear that had grown numb during the night returned with full force. She saw in her mind’s eye what she had only heard about: Harriet Bolson strangled in front of the altar.

  Steps echoed on the stone floor, a door was opened, and she tripped over a doorjamb. Her blindfold was removed. She blinked in the gray light and saw Langaas’s back as he walked out and locked the door behind him. A lamp in the room was lit. She was in a vestry with oil portraits of stern ministers from the past. Shutters were closed over the windows. Linda looked around for a door to a toilet, but there was none. Her bowels were still calm, but her bladder was about to burst. There were some tall goblets on a table. She thought God would forgive her and used one of them as a chamber pot. She looked down at her watch: a quarter to seven, Saturday, the eighth of September. She heard a plane coming in to land passing right over the church.

  Linda cursed the cell phone she had managed to lose during the night. There was no phone in the vestry. She searched the cupboards and drawers. Then she started to work on the windows. They opened, but the shutters were tightly sealed and locked. She looked through the vestry one more time but didn’t find any tools.

  The door opened and a man walked in. Linda recognized him at once, even though he was thinner than in the pictures Anna had showed her, the pictures she had kept hidden in her bureau. He was dressed in a suit with a dark blue shirt buttoned all the way up. His hair was combed back and long at the neck. His eyes were light blue, just like Anna’s, and it was even more clear than from the photographs how much they looked like each other. He stopped in the shadows by the door and smiled at her.

  “Don’t be afraid,” he said kindly and approached her with his arms outstretched, as if he wanted to demonstrate that he was unarmed and did not intend to attack.

  A thought flashed through Linda’s head when she saw his open, outstretched arms. Anna must have had a weapon in her coat pocket. That’s why she came down to the station. To kill me. But she couldn’t. The thought made Linda weak in the knees. She staggered to one side and Erik Westin helped her sit down.

  “Don’t be afraid,” he repeated. “I’m sorry I was forced to let you wait blindfolded in the car. I am also sorry that I am forced to detain you for a few more hours. Then you will be free to go.”

  “Where am I?”

  “That I cannot tell you. The only thing that is important is that you should not be afraid. I also need you to answer one question.”

  His tone was still concerned, the smile seemed genuine. Linda was confused.

  “You have to tell me what you know,” Westin said.

  “About what?”

  He fixed her with his gaze, still smiling.

  “That wasn’t very convincing,” he said softly. “I could ask my question more directly, but that won’t be necessary, since you understand full well what I mean. You followed Anna last night and you found your way to a house by the sea.”

  The majority of what I tell him has to be true, she thought quickly, otherwise he’ll see through me. There is no alternative, she thought, giving herself more time by blowing her nose.

  “I never made it to a house,” she said. “I found a parked car under the trees. But I was looking for Anna.”

  Westin seemed lost in thought, but Linda knew he was weighing her answer. She recognized his voice now. He was the one who had been preaching to an invisible audience in the house by the beach. Although his voice and presence made an impression of a gentle calm, she could not forget what he had said during the night.

  He looked at her again.

  “You did not find your way to a house?”

  “No.”

  “Why were you looking for Anna?”

  No more lies, Linda thought.

  “I was worried about Zeba.”

  “Who is that?”

  Now he was the one who was lying and she the one trying to conceal the fact that she saw through it.

  “Zeba is a friend we have in common. I think she’s been abducted.”

  “Why would Anna know where she is?”

  “She has seemed awfully tense lately.”

  He nodded.

  “You may be telling the truth,” he said. “Time will tell.”

  He stood up without taking his eyes off her.

  “Do you believe in God.”

  No, Linda thought. But I know the answer you’re looking for.

  “I believe in God.”

  “We shall soon see the measure of your faith,” he said. “It is as it is written in the Bible: Soon our
enemies will be destroyed and their excesses consumed by fire.”

  He walked over to the door and opened it.

  “You won’t have to wait by yourself.”

  Zeba came in, followed by Anna. The door closed behind Westin and a key turned in the lock. Linda stared at Zeba, then Anna.

  “What are you doing?” Linda asked.

  “Only what needs to be done.”

  Anna’s voice was steady, but forced and hostile.

  “She’s crazy,” said Zeba, who had collapsed onto a chair. “Out of her mind.”

  “No, a person who kills an innocent child is crazy. It is a crime that must be punished.”

  Zeba rushed up from her chair and grabbed Linda’s arm.

  “She’s crazy,” she shouted. “She’s saying I should be punished because of the abortion.”

  “Let me talk to her,” Linda said.

  “You can’t reason with crazy people.”

  “I don’t believe she’s crazy,” Linda said as calmly as she could.

  She walked over to Anna and looked her straight in the eye, feverishly trying to order her thoughts. Why had Westin left Anna in the same room as her and Zeba?

  “Don’t tell me you’re part of this,” Linda said.

  “My father has returned. He has restored the hope I had lost.”

  “What kind of hope?”

  “That there is a meaning to life, that God has a meaning for each of us.”

  That’s not true, Linda thought. She saw the same thing in Anna’s eyes that she had seen in Zeba’s: fear. Anna had turned her body so that she could see the door. She’s afraid it will open, Linda thought. She’s terrified of her father.

  “What is he threatening you with?” she asked in a low tone, almost a whisper.

  “He hasn’t threatened me.”

  Anna had also lowered her voice to a whisper. It can only mean she’s listening, Linda thought. That gives us a possibility.

  “You have to stop telling lies, Anna. We can get out of this if you’ll just stop lying.”

  “I’m not lying.”

  Time was short. She didn’t launch into an argument with Anna. If she didn’t want to answer a question, or answered with a lie, Linda could only go on.

  “Believe what you like,” she said. “But you won’t make me responsible for people being murdered. Don’t you understand what’s going on?”

  “My father came back to get me. A great task awaits us.”

  “I know what task you’re talking about. Is that really what you want? Do you really want more people to die, more churches to burn?”

  Linda saw that Anna was near the breaking point. She had to keep going, not relax her grip.

  “And if Zeba is punished, as you call it, you will have her son’s face in front of you for all eternity, an accusation that you will never be able to escape. Is that what you want?”

  They heard the sound of the key in the lock. They had run out of time. But just before the door opened Anna pulled a cell phone out of her pocket and passed it to Linda. Erik Westin appeared in the doorway.

  “Have you said good-bye?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Anna said. “I’ve said good-bye.”

  Westin stroked her forehead with his fingertips. He turned to Zeba and then to Linda.

  “Only a little while longer,” he said. “An hour or so.”

  Zeba lunged at the door. Linda grabbed her and forced her down in the chair. She kept her there until Zeba started to calm herself.

  “I have a phone now,” Linda whispered. “We’ll get through this.”

  “They’re going to kill me.”

  Linda pressed her hand over Zeba’s mouth.

  “If I’m going to get us out of this, you have to help me by being quiet.”

  Zeba did as she was told. Linda was shaking so hard she dialed the wrong number twice. The phone rang again and again without her dad picking up. She was just going to hang up when he answered. When he heard her voice he started to shout. Where was she? Didn’t she understand how worried he was?

  “We don’t have time,” she whispered. “Listen.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Be quiet and listen.”

  She told him what had happened after she left the station, first leaving a note on his desk. He interrupted.

  “There’s no note. I stayed there the whole night waiting for you to call.”

  “Then it must have gotten lost. We don’t have time, you have to listen.”

  She was about to cry. He didn’t interrupt her again, only breathing heavily as if each breath were a difficult question he needed to find an answer to, an important decision that needed to be made.

  “Is this true?” he asked.

  “Every word. I heard them.”

  “They’re completely mad,” he said.

  “No,” Linda objected. “It’s something else. They believe in what they’re doing. They don’t think it’s crazy.”

  “Whatever it is, we’ll alert all major cities,” he said, “I believe we have fifteen cathedrals in this country.”

  “I only heard mention of thirteen,” Linda said. “Thirteen towers. The thirteenth tower is the last one and marks the onset of the great cleansing process. What it all means I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know where you are?”

  “No. I’m pretty sure we drove through Ystad; the roundabouts matched up. I don’t think we could have made it as far as Malmö.”

  “In what direction?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Did you notice anything else when you were in the car?”

  “Different kinds of road. Asphalt, gravel, sometimes dirt roads.”

  “Did you cross any bridges?”

  She thought hard.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Did you hear any sounds?”

  She thought of it immediately. The airplanes passing overhead. She had heard them several times.

  “I’ve heard airplanes. One was close by.”

  “What do you mean by close?”

  “It was about to land. Or else it was taking off.”

  “Wait,” her dad said.

  He called to someone in the room.

  “We’re getting out a map,” he said when he came back on the line. “Can you hear an airplane right now?”

  “No.”

  “Were they big or little planes?”

  “Jet planes. Big.”

  “Then it must be Sturup Airport.”

  Paper rustled in the background. Linda heard her father tell someone to call the air traffic control tower at Sturup and to patch the call into his line with Linda.

  “We have a map here now. Can you hear anything?”

  “Airplanes? No, nothing.”

  “Can you tell me anything more about where you are in relation to the airplanes?”

  “Are church towers toward the east or west?”

  “How would I know that?”

  Wallander shouted out to Martinsson, who answered.

  “The tower is always in the west, the altar area in the east. It has to do with the resurrection.”

  “Then the planes have been coming from the south. If, as I think, I’m facing east, the planes have been coming from the south heading north. Or maybe northwest. They have been passing by almost directly overhead.”

  There was mumbling and scraping on the other end. Linda felt the sweat running down her body. Zeba sat apathetic, cradling her head in her hands. Wallander came back on the line.

  “I’m going to let you talk to a flight controller called Janne Lundwall. I’ll be able to hear your conversation and may jump in from time to time. Do you understand?”

  “I get it. I’m not stupid, Dad. But you have to hurry.”

  His voice wavered when he answered.

  “I know. But we can’t do anything if we don’t know where you are.”

  Janne Lundwall’s voice came on.

  “Let’s see if we can figure out where
you are,” he said cheerily. “Can you hear any planes right now?”

  Linda wondered what her dad had told him. The flight controller’s upbeat tone only increased her anxiety.

  “I can’t hear anything.”

  “We have a KLM flight due in five minutes. As soon as you hear it, you let me know.”

  The minutes passed extremely slowly. Finally she heard the faint sound of an approaching plane.

  “I can hear it.”

  “Are you facing east?”

  “Yes. The plane is approaching on my right.”

  “Good. Now tell me when the plane is just above you or in front of you.”

  There was a noise at the door. Linda turned off the cell phone and shoved it in her pocket. Langaas came in. He stopped, looked at both of them, and then left without saying a word. Zeba sat curled up in her corner. Only when Langaas had left and slammed the door behind him did Linda realize the plane had come and gone.

  She dialed the number to her father again. He was clearly upset. He’s just as scared as I am, Linda thought. Just as scared and he has as little idea of where I am as I do. We can talk to each other but we can’t find each other.

  “What happened?”

  “Someone came in. The one called Torgeir Langaas. I had to hang up.”

  “Good God. Here’s Lundwall again.”

  The next plane was due in four minutes. Lundwall told her it was a charter flight from Las Palmas that was fourteen hours delayed.

  “A whole lot of grumpy, pissed-off passengers on their way in for landing,” he said smugly. “Sometimes I’m grateful I’m tucked up here in my tower. Can you hear anything?”

  Linda told him when she heard the plane.

  “Same as before. Tell me when it’s above you or right in front.”

  The plane grew nearer. At the same time the cell phone started to beep. Linda looked at the display. The battery was almost out of power.

  “The phone is dying,” she said.

  “We have to know where you are,” her dad shouted.