Sarah Kiese was standing outside a brick building in Mariboesgate, waiting for a woman named Anette. She had tried calling for several days, but the line had always been busy.
You have reached Oslo Police Incident Line. All our operators are busy taking calls. Please hold.
Eventually, after trying for three days, she got through. That last time she was on hold for more than forty minutes, but she didn’t give up; she waited patiently, and finally her call was answered. She’d expected the voice on the phone to be pleasant, but it was not. The woman had sounded irritated. Abrupt, like, What do you want? Sarah Kiese was starting to think that she was doing the wrong thing. That the woman assumed she was calling because of the reward, but she was not. She didn’t care about the money. One million kroner for anyone who can provide information that leads to a conviction in this case. She had read about the reward in the newspaper, and that was when it started to dawn on her.
Her husband had died almost a year ago. He’d fallen from an unsafe building that was under construction. Sarah Kiese was glad he was dead. He’d been a terrible husband. He had nearly ruined her life. She’d 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, money 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 with her or talk to her. A memory stick from a lawyer containing a blurry film about something he had built. An underground room. She’d put it out of her mind. Forgotten about it. She had her own life now. She had a new apartment. She was happy for the first time in years. But then it came back to her. The movie on the memory stick. The one she’d 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 call. 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 elevator 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 did not want him in her head or in her life anymore, so she’d deleted the film, and that 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, Karoline, and Andrea. And that was when it hit her.
Her husband had built the room where the girls had been held prisoner.
Sarah Kiese found some chewing gum in her handbag and glanced around. She’d 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 blond hair and plenty of freckles came toward her.
“Sarah Kiese?”
“Yes?”
“Hi, my name is Anette,” the police officer said, showing Sarah her ID card.
“I’m sorry for not calling earlier,” Sarah apologized. “The lines were busy the whole time, and . . . well, my husband and I weren’t 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 the policewoman the bag.
“That’s great. Follow me.”
The policewoman named Anette gestured to a door in a yellow brick building and held her card up to a scanner.
They waited quietly in the elevator. Anette was much nicer than the woman on the telephone. Sarah was pleased about that. She’d 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 down the corridor.
They reached another locked door, 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 all those screens and boxes and cables and small flashing lights and plenty of modern technology everywhere.
“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 in 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’d built. How scared he’d 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 garbage.”
“Ha, ha, yes, unfortunately, I won’t be able to find that,” the young man said.
Sarah started to smile. They were so nice in here. She felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She’d 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 again.
“Would you like a cup of coffee?”
“Yes, please.”
The police officer with the freckles smiled and left the room.