“I’m afraid he’s been taken ill,” said the voice on the phone.
“What are you saying? Who are you?”
“I was sitting here in the same compartment working when it happened. I’m so sorry to have to tell you this, but I’m quite certain he’s dead.”
“Hey!” Rachel yelled. “What’s going on? Who are you talking to, Isabel?”
“Thank you,” was all Isabel could muster in reply to the man at the other end. And then she snapped the mobile shut.
She looked at Rachel and then at the blur of trees as the car hurtled along. If a deer wandered out of the woods, or if they hit a patch of wet leaves at the wrong angle, they’d be done for. The slightest thing could mean disaster. How could she find the courage to tell Rachel what she had just heard? There was no telling how she might react. Her husband had died only seconds ago and she was tearing through this darkened landscape like a woman possessed.
Isabel had often felt depressed about her life. Loneliness was an ever-present shadow. In the long evenings of winter she had often succumbed to the darkest thoughts. But now, at this moment, her mind was quite differently engaged. Now, with vengeance spurring her on, with the responsibility for the lives of two children resting in her hands, and their kidnapper, Satan personified, speeding along in the car in front of them, Isabel knew that she wanted to live. She knew that no matter how awful the world might appear, she could find her own place in it.
The issue was whether Rachel could, too.
And then Rachel turned her head toward her. “Tell me, Isabel. Tell me now. What’s happened?”
“I think your husband’s had a heart attack, Rachel.” That was as gently as she could put it.
But Rachel sensed that the sentence hung unresolved in the air. Isabel could tell.
“Is he dead?” Rachel demanded to know. “Oh, God! He is, isn’t he? Tell me, Isabel!”
“I don’t know.”
“Tell me NOW! Or else…” Her eyes were wild. The car was already beginning to swerve.
Isabel reached out toward Rachel’s arm to calm her down, but then she thought better of it. “Keep your eyes on the road, Rachel,” she said. “This is all about your children for the moment, remember?”
Her words lodged inside Rachel’s soul, and she began to tremble. “NO, NO, NO!” she screamed. “NO, tell me it isn’t true. Oh, Mother of God, tell me it isn’t true!”
She gripped the wheel, sobbing violently, saliva dribbling from her lips. For a moment, Isabel thought she was about to give up the chase and stop the car, but then she jerked her body upright again and put her foot down hard on the accelerator.
Lindebjerg-Lynge read a sign that appeared at the side of the road, but Rachel did not slow for a second. The road curved through a cluster of cottages, and then everything was trees again.
Now the bastard in front was clearly under pressure. His car snaked on a bend, and Rachel cried out for Mary, Mother of God, to forgive her for breaking the fifth commandment, for she was now about to kill.
“This is insane! We’re doing almost two hundred kilometers an hour, Rachel. You’ll get us both killed!” Isabel screamed, thinking for a moment that she ought to pull the keys from the ignition.
But the thought of the steering wheel locking flashed through her mind, and instead she braced herself for the worst, her knuckles showing white as she gripped the sides of her seat.
The first time Rachel rammed the Mercedes in front, Isabel’s head lurched forward and then jerked back sickeningly. But the Mercedes held the road.
“OK,” Rachel yelled. “So that makes no impression on you, Satan?” And then she rammed his rear end once more, this time with such force that the hood of the Ford crumpled. Isabel braced herself again but was nevertheless surprised by the violent snap of her body against the safety belt.
“STOP THE CAR!” she commanded, feeling pain in her chest. But Rachel wasn’t listening. She was somewhere else altogether.
In front of them, the Mercedes hit the verge, swerving out of control for a second before correcting again on a straight stretch where the road widened slightly and was dimly lit by yellow light from a large farm.
And then it happened.
At the same moment that Rachel was about to ram the back end of the Mercedes one more time, the driver veered suddenly to the left and jammed on his brakes amid a screeching of tires.
They flew past, and found themselves in front.
She sensed Rachel’s panic. Now they were going far too fast, the Mercedes no longer there to absorb their speed in the repeated collisions. The front wheels skidded to one side. Rachel straightened up, braking slightly, though not enough, and then came the sound of crunching metal from the side, causing Rachel instinctively to brake again.
Isabel turned her head in shock toward the shattered side window and the rear door, now crumpled in against the backseat, and at the same instant the Mercedes came in from behind. The lower half of the monster’s face was in shadow, but his eyes were clearly visible. It was as though the light of sudden clarity passed over his face. As though everything at once fell into place.
All that must never happen had now happened.
And then he rammed them one last time, causing Rachel to lose control of the vehicle. The rest was pain and glimpses of a world careering by in the darkness that surrounded them.
When everything was still again, Isabel found herself hanging upside down in her safety belt. At her side, Rachel lay lifeless, the steering wheel wedged beneath her bleeding body.
Isabel tried to turn, but her muscles would not respond. Then she coughed and felt the blood well in her throat and nostrils.
Odd, how nothing hurt, she thought briefly, and then her entire body exploded in pain. She wanted to scream but couldn’t. I’m dying, she thought, and coughed up blood.
Outside, she saw a shadow approach. The footsteps on the shards of glass were measured and firm. They boded ill.
She tried to focus, but the blood from her mouth and nose ran into her eyes. When she blinked, it felt like her eyelids were sandpaper.
Only when he came close enough for her to hear what he said did she become aware of the heavy metal object in his hands.
“Isabel,” he said. “You were the last person I’d expected to see today. Why did you have to get involved? Look what you’ve done.”
He sat on his haunches and peered in through the side window. She presumed he was considering how best to deliver the final blow. She tried to turn her head to see him more clearly, but still she was unable to move.
“Other people know who you are,” she groaned, feeling pain surge violently in her jaw.
He smiled. “No one knows me.”
He walked around the car and stared at Rachel’s body from the other side. “No need to worry about her anymore. Which is good. She could have been a threat.”
Then suddenly he straightened up. Isabel heard the sirens. A flash of blue passed across his legs, making him reel a couple of steps backward.
And then her eyes closed.
32
The smell of burned rubber gradually grew stronger, forcing him to pull into a rest area just outside Roskilde. Once he had heaved the battered right wing away from the tire, he walked all the way around the car to inspect the extent of the damage. Obviously it had taken a beating, but he was still surprised at how little the results of the impacts showed.
As soon as things died down, he would have to get the car fixed. All traces would have to be removed. He would find a workshop in Kiel or Ystad, wherever happened to be convenient at the time.
He lit a cigarette and read the note he had found in the bag.
This was usually that special moment he’d been looking forward to. Standing somewhere in the dark with traffic zooming past, knowing that once again he had done what he needed to do. The money in the bag, and then back to the boathouse to finish the job.