Katherina looked out of the side window, away from Jon.
'You didn't know what you were doing,' he said. 'How could you know?'
The feeling of guilt was back, full force. Hadn't she known? The incident in the classroom had taken place after she had first met Luca, who had warned her at the very beginning not to focus her powers too intensely. And even though she'd been totally immersed in the story, she had still picked up tiny danger signals, such as the fact that Grethe's body was shaking and the nervousness of the other kids. Yet in spite of everything, she had kept on going until it was too late.
'They said she had a cerebral haemorrhage. In biology class they showed us how something like that can happen. They went over the model of the brain and explained how blood pressure, veins and blood flow are all connected.'
'You didn't tell anyone about this?'
Katherina shook her head. 'Not until much later. Then I told Luca and Iversen and a couple of others in the Society. They were the only ones who would be able to understand.'
'What about your parents?'
'I'd already subjected them to enough, with my dyslexia and the voices I claimed to hear.'
Jon turned off the motorway and they began a lengthy drive along country roads through villages and woods and over hills. After a while, as they were driving past green fields, Jon slowed down. He pulled out a piece of paper from between the seats.
'There's supposed to be a turn-off on the left somewhere around here,' he said, leaning forward to peer out of the windscreen. A few hundred metres further along, he stopped the car. On the left a muddy, rutted track led across the field and disappeared into a grove of trees. Next to the track was a sign with the number 59 on it.
They looked at each other.
'Ready?' asked Jon.
'Ready.'
Jon turned the wheel and slowly drove along the rutted track. Even at that slow pace they were tossed about in their seats.
After twenty metres a sign appeared at the side of the road.
'"No trespassing",' Jon read.
Ten metres further on there was another sign.
' "Private property" and "Trespassers will be reported to the police",' Jon quoted. 'Not especially hospitable, is he?'
'He knows we're coming,' said Katherina calmly.
'What do you mean? Have you seen him?'
'No, but he can hear us.'
'Are you sure? We can't even see the farm yet.'
'The signs,' Katherina said. 'They're not just there to keep people away.'
Jon gave her a look of surprise.
'They act as a warning system,' she explained. 'He "heard" you read them.'
Jon stared at her for a couple of seconds in disbelief, until he realized what she meant.
'Now I get it.' He looked embarrassed. 'Sorry.'
'That's okay,' said Katherina. 'Such brief texts can't tell him anything about us except that we're on the way.'
They followed the track through the small grove of trees. More signs stood along the road. Others were fastened to tree trunks, and even though Katherina sensed that Jon tried not to read them, she still received their text: 'No admittance', 'Guard dogs', 'Private property'.
After a hundred metres they arrived in a big clearing, and there stood a white-painted farm building with three wings and a thatched roof. In many places the paint was peeling off the walls. Big green patches of moss covered the straw on the roof. One window was covered with plywood and the rest looked as if they hadn't been washed since they were installed. The perimeter of the clearing was filled with rusty farm implements that had long since served their purpose and had been left to fall apart.
Jon drove his Mercedes into the farmyard where grass and weeds had taken over most of the area from the gravel. A grey Volvo estate car was parked next to one wing of the building.
'That must be the main building,' said Jon, pointing to the one behind the Volvo. He parked in front of the estate car, and they got out.
After the echo from the closing doors had faded, the place was utterly quiet. Katherina savoured the silence as she looked around. The house they had decided was the main building was about a hundred square metres with windows a metre and a half off the ground. She couldn't see in, either because of the thick layer of dirt on the panes or because something was covering them on the inside. The two other wings were in worse shape. On one, half the roof had caved in; the other lacked both windows and doors.
Jon went over to the front entrance. A big sign with a lot of text was fastened to the heavy oak door.
'Don't read it,' Katherina warned. 'It's too long – it'll just make things easy for him.'
Jon nodded and looked the other way as he fumbled with the door knocker. The pounding sound echoed over the farm. Jon leaned close to the door to listen. Nothing happened. He glanced at Katherina and shook his head. He knocked again, this time a little harder.
Katherina went over to one of the windows and tried to peer inside, but a dark cloth prevented her from looking into the room. She tried the other windows facing the yard, but they were all covered with curtains, furniture or plywood.
'Hello! Anybody home?' shouted Jon at the door.
Katherina thought she saw a shadow in one of the empty windows in the building with the collapsed roof. She slowly strolled towards what must have once been the stable. Again she saw a shadow, this time behind a windowpane that was so filthy it was impossible to tell what or who the shape was.
'Jon,' she called in a low voice as she kept walking towards the stable.
Jon stepped away from the front door and went over to her.
'Yes?'
She pointed at the stable without speaking.
The door was in the middle, facing the yard. It had once been blue but dry rot and wear and tear had turned it almost completely grey and it hung wearily from its hinges. Katherina gave it a shove. With a long-drawn-out screech the door reluctantly opened.
'Hello?' she called. 'Anyone here?'
She stepped inside with Jon right behind her. The space had not been used as a stable in a very long time. The stalls were filled with rubbish, the remains from the collapsed roof or crates and furniture.
'Over there,' said Jon, stepping past her.
At the other end of the stable, closest to the main building, a door opened and they saw a silhouette run out, slamming the door. Jon raced for the door, having to jump over crates and old junk blocking his way. Katherina instead turned on her heel and ran out into the yard and then over to the main house. She reached the corner of the building just as Jon came bursting out of the door. They continued on together to the gable end and then around to the back of the house. They didn't see anyone, but they did hear a door slam. Banging and pounding sounds revealed that the door was being emphatically bolted.
They slowed down and stopped outside a dark, solid-looking door with black metal hinges.
'We just want to talk to you,' shouted Jon, out of breath.
There was no reaction from inside the house.
'Tom?' Katherina ventured. 'We need your help.'
Jon knocked on the door.
'Tom Nшrreskov? We know you're in there.'
They listened tensely.
'Go away,' they suddenly heard from behind the door. 'You have no business being here.' The voice was low and hoarse.
'We just want to talk to you, Tom,' said Katherina.
'I have nothing to say to you. Get out of here, or I'll call the police.'
'Won't you at least confirm that your name is Tom Nшrreskov?' asked Jon.
'There's no Nшrreskov here. My name is Klausen. It says that on the door. Now go away.'
'We know that you changed your name in eighty-six,' said Jon. 'We know that you were thrown out of the Society, and we know why.'
For several seconds there was no response from behind the door. Then they heard a faint muttering. Katherina and Jon looked at each other.
'It sounded like he repeated the words "thrown out",' whispered Jon.
'What are you whispering for?' yelled the man behind the door. 'Who are you? What do you want?'