Karianne Kolstad hated selling lottery tickets. Selling lottery tickets was the worst thing she knew. The fourteen-year-old had considered quitting the Girl Guides simply because of those stupid lottery tickets. She didn’t mind fund-raising activities—she had picked strawberries and cleared rocks from fields for farmers—it was just these stupid lottery tickets that she couldn’t stand. Karianne Kolstad was shy. That was why she hated selling lottery tickets. She had to ring people’s doorbells and talk to them.
Karianne Kolstad tightened her jacket and walked down the road to Tom Lauritz Larsen’s farm. She didn’t mind knocking on his door; she knew he would be all right. The pig farmer was a bit eccentric, but he was nice and she’d spoken to him before. The last time she visited, he bought practically all her tickets. She hoped she might be just as lucky today. Karianne Kolstad opened the gate and entered the farmyard.
Tom Lauritz Larsen had become something of a minor celebrity after someone had cut the head off one of his sows. Their local newspaper, Hamar Arbeiderblad, had written about it several times. First when the head went missing and then when it reappeared. LOCAL PIG FOUND ON STAKE IN “BABES IN THE WOODS” CASE had been the headline, and there were photographs of Larsen as well as his farmhand.
Karianne Kolstad knew everything about the dead girls, had read every word about the case in the newspapers. There’d been meetings as well, first at school, then with the Girl Guides, then in the village hall, where everyone had turned up, not just people with daughters about to start school but practically everyone in the village. They’d lit candles for the dead and missing girls, and she had helped start a Facebook group to show her respect to the girls. Starting a Facebook group was easy—all she had to do was sit in front of her laptop, not like now when she had to talk to real people. She went up to the farmhouse and knocked on the door. It was starting to get dark, but the light was on in the kitchen window. She could hear music, too, so he was probably at home. She knocked again, and the door opened. She breathed in and braced herself, trying to put on a smile.
“Hello?” Larsen said, looking at her kindly. “Are you out selling lottery tickets again?”
Phew, thank God, at least she wouldn’t have to tell him that.
“Yes.” She nodded, relieved.
“You had better come in,” Larsen said, peering into the darkness behind her.
“Are you out this late all on your own?” he asked when she stepped inside the kitchen.
“Yes,” Karianne said shyly.
“And what is it for this time?” Tom Lauritz Larsen had already produced his wallet and was holding it in his hand.
“Our group is going on a camping trip. To Sweden.”
“Well, I imagine that will be nice.”
“Yes, I hope so,” Karianne agreed politely.
“I’m usually unlucky at gambling.” Larsen chortled as he took out a hundred-kroner note from his wallet. “But you have to support the young, don’t you think?”
“Thank you,” Karianne said. “The tickets are twenty kroner each, and you can win a fruit basket and some coffee, plus some things that we made ourselves.”
“Oh, I don’t suppose I’ll win anything, but I’ll certainly buy some tickets.” Larsen smiled at her. “Unfortunately, I only have one hundred kroner, that’s all.”
One hundred kroner. Five tickets. It meant she would have to keep going tonight. She had left it to the last minute. Unsold tickets had to be returned to the group tomorrow, and she still had many tickets left to sell.
“Well, at least it’s a start,” Larsen said, giving her the hundred-kroner note and taking the tickets she gave him.
“Now, be careful,” he said, sounding a little anxious when she was back on his front steps again.
He stared out into the darkness behind her and wrinkled his nose. It was clear that something had happened to him after the pig-head incident. He hadn’t seemed so nervous the last time she came by.
Karianne Kolstad walked across the yard and back out through the gate. She continued toward Vik Bridge and was sorely tempted to just go home and forget all about selling tickets when an unreal scene suddenly unfolded right in front of her.
At first she couldn’t believe her own eyes. It seemed impossible. Here in Tangen. The most boring place on earth, where nothing ever happened. Right across the road, there was a small house. She didn’t think anyone lived here—she’d always believed that it was empty, and no one had ever seen anyone come or go. Now the front door was wide open and a small girl was running out of it. The girl wore a strange dress and was screaming at the top of her lungs. Karianne Kolstad recognized her immediately. She’d seen her in the newspapers. There were pictures of her on Karianne’s Facebook page. It was girl number five. It was Marion Munch.
Karianne froze with her mouth wide open. The little girl had jumped down the steps but tripped and fallen in the gravel. A woman came chasing after her. Marion got back on her feet, glanced over her shoulder, let out a scream, and ran on. The woman behind her was much faster. The woman snatched her, placed her hand over the little girl’s mouth, carried her back inside the house, and closed the door.
Then everything fell quiet again.
For a moment Karianne Kolstad was in shock. She had dropped the lottery tickets and the money and her cell phone on the ground.
Then she bent down quickly, picked up her phone, and pressed 112 with trembling fingers.