The Lost Woman

Louise Rick leaned back in her chair in the Search Department office and eyed her partner, who sat on the floor attending to Charlie. The retired police dog lay on his side, patiently allowing his paws to be cleaned of snow and road salt. Eik Nordstrøm rubbed him with a towel; he clipped the hairs between the pads of his paws and smeared them with Vaseline, praising the dog constantly until Louise at last rolled her eyes and shook her head.

A book about dog care lay on Eik’s desk.

Whoa, she thought. She hardly believed that a little snow on the street required this level of grooming. Never had she cleaned Dina’s paws of road salt or smeared them with Vaseline. If anyone had, it was Jonas. After all, her foster son was the one who’d loaned the book to Eik.

Watching the tender way the black-haired policeman nursed the big German shepherd, she had the realization that if he moved out of her apartment now, she would miss him terribly.

He scooted over and grabbed Charlie’s back paw.

Six months ago, Louise had been anxious about how it would go when her relatively new love—her partner, Eik—moved in with Jonas and her, while Louise’s friend Camilla stayed in Eik’s studio apartment in South Harbor with her husband, Frederik, and son, Markus. But it had worked out fine. So fine, in fact, that the thought of him moving back to his own apartment now felt all wrong.

Eik had come up with the idea that Camilla and Frederik stay at his place. They’d needed somewhere to live after their manor house near Roskilde had burned down. Markus had left for boarding school along with Jonas, so even though the place was small, it felt crowded only when he was home on weekends.

Louise suspected that Camilla and Frederik had actually grown tired of the manor house, with its high wainscoting and beautiful stucco ceilings, and wanted to move back to the city, though living in a five-hundred-square-foot space when they were used to ten thousand square feet had to be quite an adjustment. When Frederik left the hospital after the fire, he had made it clear that he wasn’t going to rebuild his childhood home. Louise understood why. Too much bad karma, too many strange old stories clung to the property, making escaping the past while living there very difficult.

But now they were moving on. They had just taken possession of a roomy penthouse in Frederiksberg, a few blocks from where Camilla and Markus lived before she met Frederik. The past six months had gone by so fast, however, that Louise and Eik hadn’t really talked about what they would do once his apartment was free again.

“I wonder what such an uptown dog will think about moving back to South Harbor,” she said, teasing him now.

“Yeah, the neighborhood probably isn’t his cup of tea.” Eik spoke without looking up, while working on the last paw. “You know how Charlie loves sniffing the fancy ladies on Allégade. Plus, there’re all his girlfriends in Frederiksberg Gardens.”

“Maybe,” Louise said. Eik got to his feet and tossed a treat to his now clean dog. “But Frederik and Camilla moved yesterday. And let me see…if I remember correctly, the deal was that you were only going to stay with me until they found another place.”

Eik was caught off guard for a moment, but then he smiled. “Oh, didn’t I tell you that Olle is coming by with his station wagon this afternoon to pick my things up?” He looked down at the big German shepherd. “And really, a dog needs to learn how to run around all sorts of places.”

He said this so offhandedly that Louise had to lower her eyes. Suddenly she went quiet inside. She didn’t want him to leave; living with Eik felt so natural, so secure.

“Hey!” He walked over and kissed her on the neck. “I’m not going anywhere. We just need to decide if we should keep the South Harbor apartment. Who knows? Maybe Jonas will want it someday, or maybe we should just get rid of it. But it’s so cheap to hang on to.”

The knot inside Louise loosened. He swiveled her chair around to him, and she stood and held him tightly. Losing him for a second, only to get him back, made her cling even harder as he pulled her blouse up. She breathed him in, the smell of leather, cigarettes, hair wax, and something indefinable yet unmistakable, an odor that was his and his only. She ran her hands down through his longish black hair, kissing him back.

Neither of them reacted in time when the door behind them opened. Rønholt stood in the doorway, mumbled an embarrassed apology, then stepped back and closed the door. He pounded on the door three times and cleared his throat before walking back in. “Would you be so kind as to step into my office?” As he turned to leave, he added, “Properly clothed, please.”

Ragner Rønholt had been the head of the Search Department for more than two decades. A year ago, he had snatched Louise away from Homicide. He was steadily approaching retirement age. No one knew when he planned to step down, but it was becoming clear he was looking forward to the third stage of life, with a lot of cultural travel and bicycle vacations around Europe. Louise had only a sketchy knowledge of his private life. She knew he wasn’t married, though he split his time between two steady woman friends. He invited Pytte to concerts in Denmark Radio’s new concert hall, and took her on vacations to major cities, while Didder thrived in the kitchen of her home in Skodsborg, where he played the role of handyman. He lived in a large apartment on Østbanegade, a street in an exclusive part of Copenhagen, and grew orchids on his windowsills.

The head of Homicide, Hans Suhr, had once called him a lone wolf and bon vivant, a man who had tailored his life to fit his desires. The Search Department director didn’t spend his days making concessions to others. He did the things he wanted to, when he wanted to.

“This can’t go on. But then you’re both aware of that, aren’t you?”

Louise and Eik sat in his office. On the wall behind the door hung three newly pressed white shirts wrapped in plastic from a dry cleaner on Vesterbrogade, and below them lay a pair of bicycle shoes Rønholt changed into before riding home on his new road bike. Standard equipment for a man approaching retirement. Though Louise had never seen him wearing a jersey from one of the teams in the Tour de France. Or cycling tights.

“Everyone knows you’re living together. We have to face the fact that one of you is going to have to transfer.”

Silence.

“For now, let’s just keep our eyes and ears open.” He reached for a paper on his desk. “There’s a position at the police station in Næstved, for example.”

He pushed the paper over to them. “I’m willing to listen to suggestions about how else we can solve this problem. Which one of you is open to trying something new?”

Again, neither of them spoke. Louise stood up and grabbed the paper, promising they would find a solution.

“He’s right, you know,” she said on the way back to the office. “We can’t be partners if we plan to keep living together. But Næstved? No way!”

“You know Rønholt, it’ll blow over.” Eik put his arm around her. “We’re a good team, and if people start talking, I’ll just go back to my old office.”

Louise raised her hand. “No. It’s no different for us than for anybody else here. We can’t be out there together.”

“All right, I surrender. We’ll find a way.” He closed the door to their office and patted Charlie. “You looking forward to tonight?”

Louise smiled. “Nick Cave is more your cup of tea, but it’s been a long time since I’ve been to a concert. I can’t wait! I talked to Camilla and Frederik. They’ll meet us in front of Vega a half hour before it starts, so we can grab a beer. Do you have the tickets?”

Eik lifted an eyebrow and stared at her. She got the drift; she was being too motherly. “Everything’s under control” was all he said, and then switched on his computer.

For a moment, she was flustered. They hadn’t yet sanded off all their rough edges, and she knew this type of thing would happen now and then as they settled into a life together. It was still mostly one long party for them, and she loved waking up beside him every morning and falling asleep with him every night. But a few times she had caught herself picking his black jeans up off the floor and laying them on a chair, and now she had run into one of his borders. Got it, she thought, as she focused again on the job opening.

“One of us will end up working outside of town if we don’t start asking around,” she said. “And since I’m the last one in, it’s only fair that I’m the one who leaves.”

Eik was standing now, pulling the dog leash from his coat pocket. “We’ll see.” It still didn’t sound as if he were taking this seriously. “I’m going to run down for a pack of smokes and walk the dog. Come on, Charlie.”

She heard him whistling down the hallway. Most likely Nick Cave, though she didn’t recognize the song.

The voices had died down in the confirmation room. The teenagers sat still, listening to the priest talk about death being a natural part of life, about how God didn’t always let us know it was coming. Her husband excelled at getting restless adolescents to listen. Sofie had never quite figured out why. Maybe it was because they found what he said interesting. Or maybe the boys respected his success as coach of the sports club’s handball team, and they wanted to be on his good side now that it was moving up into a higher league before the tournament.

Stig had been on the junior national team before he became a priest and moved to town, and after he began coaching, she ran a concession stand at the arena. Thinking about it now, she smiled as she grabbed a pencil from the table, lifted her hair up into a bun, and stuck the pencil in. She arranged butter, thin wafers of chocolate, and sliced cheese on a platter, and filled a bread basket with freshly baked rolls.

“Okay, fresh bread right out of the oven,” she said, interrupting their confirmation studies as she entered the room. Stig smiled and waved her in. “There’s juice, and tea, too. The paper cups are in the cupboard.”

Refreshments were always served at the parsonage. She and Stig had discussed whether it might be seen as a type of bribery, but in the end, they’d decided they wanted visitors to feel welcome there, and besides, preparations for confirmation weren’t meant to be a punishment. The afternoon class got a sandwich or a dessert, while the early class was served breakfast.

While the teenagers ate, Sofie listened as a girl asked Stig if he believed in life after death. He answered that there was no way to stop life from ending. But no, he found no solace in the belief that a new life awaited on the other side. He took comfort in knowing that when the time came and God called you, it was because you were ready to leave this life. Even when death seemed unmerciful and abrupt. He believed the only thing waiting on the other side was heaven’s peace.

“And only God knows when the time is right for each person,” he said, when Sofie had emptied the bread basket.

The phone in the kitchen rang. Sofie smiled at Stig, closed the door behind her, and answered.

“Your mother won’t drink the protein drink I leave for her,” her mother’s home care aide jumped right in. “It’s not good, not at all. She’ll get even weaker and start aspirating again, and she’ll end up back in the hospital. You have to talk to her!”

“I’ll come over right now,” Sofie said. She turned off the oven and wet the dishtowel covering the rolls that were rising.

She was about to dig her boots out from under the mountain of teenage shoes when she noticed the open gun case. Which made her so mad, she could scream! Stig seldom irritated her, but this thoughtlessness, forgetting to lock up his hunting guns when the house was full of kids, was so typical of him.

“Will you please come out here and lock your muskets up,” she yelled to him through the door. Several of the boys snickered; she’d done this before, and it was always good for a laugh.

Not much was left of her mother. Less than a week ago, she had been released from the hospital after a serious case of pneumonia. Her white blood cell count had been sky high, and the infection had spread to her blood. Now she sat on the sofa with a blanket over her and a thick book on her lap. Was she reading the book, or did it simply give her a sense of dignity? Sofie had once caught her mother sitting with a book turned upside down.

She was sixty-seven, but after being diagnosed with multiple sclerosis, she had gone downhill fast. Suddenly, she was an old woman. She also had arthritis in her hands, shoulders, and back. Sofie knew the pain was worse than her mother let on, and she couldn’t hide her exhaustion. The once-energetic woman had disappeared. She still cleaned her small apartment above the flower shop, but it was a far cry from back when she had kept her large house, mowed the acre of lawn, and washed the windows before driving down to shop—without anyone thinking a thing about it. It was as if the energy had seeped out of her.

“Ohhh, it is so irritating being old; I’m no good at it,” she often said. Her mother was now at the point where the day was a success if she had the energy to get out of bed and drink a cup of morning coffee while reading the newspaper.

It was okay to be a slow starter, as Sofie put it. “There’s nothing you absolutely have to do. It’s okay to slow down,” she said, when her mother felt terrible about being old and unable to do anything.

She kissed her mother on the cheek. “Mom, you have to sip on the protein drink, otherwise they’ll stick you back in the hospital.”

Her mother’s steely blue eyes had softened over the past year. “Oh, Sof. I don’t want to go on. You have to understand, my time has come, my strength is gone.”

“Let’s not get into that now, Mom.” Sofie walked out into the kitchen for the protein drink. “I don’t want to lose you.”

Sofie sat down beside her mother on the sofa. “And I’m not leaving before you drink this. Then I’ll go down to the pharmacy and pick up your medication. What do you need from the store?”

Her mother laid her hand on Sofie’s arm. “Honey…you said it yourself, can’t you hear? I can’t even walk down the street anymore.”

“It’s only for the time being. You just got home. Being in the hospital is exhausting.”

“No. This is my life now.” Her mother let her hand fall. “I’m not myself anymore.”

Sofie couldn’t hold back her tears. They’d had this talk many times, but it had never felt so serious, so close.

Her mother had made it clear that she wanted an out when she lost the will to live. They’d talked about it even before Sofie’s father died. In fact, Sofie had feared her mother would take her own life if her father went first. But it hadn’t happened; she hadn’t even spoken of it back then, though it was obvious how terribly she missed him.

A year after his death, Sofie had invited her mother out, and for an entire evening they had talked about the right to choose when someone no longer wants to go on.

“Of course it’s not something to be taken lightly,” her mother had said, to calm her daughter’s fears. “But life can take you to a place you don’t want to be, and that’s when I want to be allowed to end it. I promise you, though, I’ll hang on as long as I can.”

Now Sofie stroked her mother’s hand before walking into the bathroom to get a grip on herself. To stop her tears. She leaned over the sink for a moment, then blew her nose, took a deep breath, and returned to the living room. “But it doesn’t have to be now,” she said, after sitting back down. “Wouldn’t you like to see spring?”

Her mother reached again for Sofie’s hand. “My strength is gone.”

“But do you even know how much medicine you need to take your own life?” Sofie blurted out. She squeezed her mother’s hand. “I will not come here and find you in a pool of blood, and don’t try anything with the gas oven in the kitchen. It could be dangerous for everyone else in the building.”

They sat for a moment in silence.

“And what am I supposed to do with myself while you’re lying here dying? Do you want me to sit here with you? Or should I just pace around at home, knowing what is happening? I just don’t know if I can do that.”

Her mother shook her head quietly. “Let’s not talk about it anymore.” She picked up the carton of protein drink Sofie had placed in front of her.

“I understand you, and I don’t want to be egotistical,” Sofie said a while later. She held her mother’s hand again. “I want to set you free. I just love you so much, and I can’t even express how much I’m going to miss you.”

“I love you, too.” Her mother set down the empty carton.

Have you seen Eik?” Louise asked Olle Svensson, when she ran into him in the hallway outside the lounge. The thin-haired investigator had shared an office with Eik before Rønholt moved Eik in with Louise and made them partners.

“No, he didn’t come to lunch. He’s probably outside sucking on one of his cancer sticks.” Olle sipped at his coffee.

Louise shook her head. “It’s been over two hours now since he went down to pick up some cigarettes and walk Charlie, and I just think it’s strange he isn’t back yet.”

She didn’t like the look on Olle’s face. His brown eyes widened, and she really didn’t want to hear what he was about to say. Suddenly she wondered if he and Eik had, in fact, talked about moving his things out of her apartment later that day. Or if it actually had been said in jest.

“Is there any more coffee in there?” she asked, nodding at his cup. Before he could answer, she was on her way into the lounge.

Rønholt was right, Louise thought, as she walked back into the office. Everything was simply too awkward. She couldn’t even mention her partner’s name to anyone else in the department without it sounding suggestive. But where the hell was he? Surely he wasn’t so aggravated by her asking if he had the tickets that he just took off!

Annoyed now, she walked over to the window. This was just pathetic. Had it been anyone else in the department, she would simply have assumed he’d gone for the day and had forgotten to say good-bye. Or else that something had come up.

Or would she?

She leaned forward and stared at the dog leashed to a hook in front of the convenience store. It looked exactly like Charlie. For a long time she waited for Eik to walk out of the store, but when the door finally opened, an older lady pulling her shopping cart emerged. Then the owner of the shop came out and set a plastic bucket of water in the snow by the wall. He petted the dog, then he said something and pointed to the bucket.

Damn, it was Charlie! Definitely. But there was no sign of Eik.

It took Louise two minutes to shut everything down in the office and slam the door behind her. She ran down the stairs through the rotunda, and a moment later was outside on the square.

The German shepherd began wagging his tail when she approached. She strode into the store, and after seeing there were no customers around, she asked, “Where’s Eik?”

The owner came out from behind the counter and shook his head. “Don’t know. He’s gone. Bought cigarettes and forgot the dog. I brought him inside, but he started growling every time a customer came in. It’s been almost two hours, though, and it’s cold out there.”

He shrugged his shoulders all the way up to his ears and looked at her as if resigned.

“Charlie’s been out on the street all this time?” she asked. “What did Eik say when he left? He couldn’t have just forgotten him!”