prickling under her skin. If one death certificate was forged, the other one could be as well.
“I was told that all the practicalities had already been taken care of by the undertaker who usually dealt with the residents there,” he said. “But it wasn’t my impression that they got their own grave because they never asked me to pay for anything. I guess there was a communal grave that belonged to the place for the ones whose families didn’t bring them home.”
“So you never saw for yourself that your daughters were buried,” Louise pressed him, hating having to ask, and ignoring the piercing look from her partner.
“No,” Viggo Andersen admitted, “I didn’t.”
He asked if he could see the picture of his daughter again. Eik handed it to him and said he was welcome to keep it, although the quality wasn’t the best.
“Thank you,” he said, tenderly stroking the creased paper.
“So then she wasn’t put in the ground at all?” he quietly concluded after a moment, looking at Louise for confirmation.
She shook her head.
“We think your daughter was alive until last Thursday. Unfortunately, Mr. Andersen, we don’t know where she’s beenstaying or why she vanished from the system all those years ago—or how it was even possible.”
She had briefly considered showing him the death certificate in her bag, but now felt it unnecessary.
“Then she’s going to be laid to rest next to her mother,” he said. A small smile played at the corner of his mouth before he suddenly turned serious once again. “But what about my Mette, then, what became of her? Is she not dead, either?”
He looked at them with concern.
Louise gazed at the floor, unsure how to reply.
“She couldn’t possibly make it on her own; especially not without her sister. She became so agitated without Lise.”
The father nodded to himself. “I have to find her,” he mumbled. “I need to know if she’s still alive, too.”
V IGGO A NDERSEN WALKED them to the front door and opened it so they could avoid the dog.
“We’re so sorry for coming here and opening old wounds,” Louise said as they stood in the courtyard.
“Don’t be,” he replied, shaking his head. “I’m glad you came. Maybe now I can make up for some of what I’ve done. It’s always been hard for me to accept that I let them talk me into letting down my girls.”
He shook his head a little.
“They were always called Lisemette,” he said with a small smile. “The two of them belonged together even though they had different dispositions. Lise was the courageous one; the one to take the lead and take care of her sister. Mette was less independent but, like I said, she was in a worse state.”
He chuckled quietly.
“But there was never any doubt about her feelings when she flung her arms around you and held on.”
Then he caught himself and looked down.
“Could they have been alive all these years while I walked around believing they were dead?” he said as they reached the car. “Where have they been? What happened? It just seems incomprehensible…”
Louise took his hand.
“I know; it does. This has to be so difficult. We need to ask you to go to the Department of Forensic Medicine to identify your daughter,” she said. “So we can confirm that it is, in fact, her.”
“Of course,” he said quickly. “And maybe I can arrange the funeral?”
“I certainly don’t see a problem with that.” Louise smiled before saying good-bye and getting in the car.
13
T HEY WERE BOTH quiet as they drove back on the freeway, until Louise’s cell phone started ringing.
“No, don’t bring raw food,” she said after putting the headset on. Camilla was in Copenhagen and had dropped Markus off at home with Jonas. Now she was offering to take care of dinner. “Melvin is making rissoles; I’m sure you’re welcome to join us.”
Louise felt like she needed to shake off the visit to Lisemette’s father before she got back to Frederiksberg if
“I was told that all the practicalities had already been taken care of by the undertaker who usually dealt with the residents there,” he said. “But it wasn’t my impression that they got their own grave because they never asked me to pay for anything. I guess there was a communal grave that belonged to the place for the ones whose families didn’t bring them home.”
“So you never saw for yourself that your daughters were buried,” Louise pressed him, hating having to ask, and ignoring the piercing look from her partner.
“No,” Viggo Andersen admitted, “I didn’t.”
He asked if he could see the picture of his daughter again. Eik handed it to him and said he was welcome to keep it, although the quality wasn’t the best.
“Thank you,” he said, tenderly stroking the creased paper.
“So then she wasn’t put in the ground at all?” he quietly concluded after a moment, looking at Louise for confirmation.
She shook her head.
“We think your daughter was alive until last Thursday. Unfortunately, Mr. Andersen, we don’t know where she’s beenstaying or why she vanished from the system all those years ago—or how it was even possible.”
She had briefly considered showing him the death certificate in her bag, but now felt it unnecessary.
“Then she’s going to be laid to rest next to her mother,” he said. A small smile played at the corner of his mouth before he suddenly turned serious once again. “But what about my Mette, then, what became of her? Is she not dead, either?”
He looked at them with concern.
Louise gazed at the floor, unsure how to reply.
“She couldn’t possibly make it on her own; especially not without her sister. She became so agitated without Lise.”
The father nodded to himself. “I have to find her,” he mumbled. “I need to know if she’s still alive, too.”
V IGGO A NDERSEN WALKED them to the front door and opened it so they could avoid the dog.
“We’re so sorry for coming here and opening old wounds,” Louise said as they stood in the courtyard.
“Don’t be,” he replied, shaking his head. “I’m glad you came. Maybe now I can make up for some of what I’ve done. It’s always been hard for me to accept that I let them talk me into letting down my girls.”
He shook his head a little.
“They were always called Lisemette,” he said with a small smile. “The two of them belonged together even though they had different dispositions. Lise was the courageous one; the one to take the lead and take care of her sister. Mette was less independent but, like I said, she was in a worse state.”
He chuckled quietly.
“But there was never any doubt about her feelings when she flung her arms around you and held on.”
Then he caught himself and looked down.
“Could they have been alive all these years while I walked around believing they were dead?” he said as they reached the car. “Where have they been? What happened? It just seems incomprehensible…”
Louise took his hand.
“I know; it does. This has to be so difficult. We need to ask you to go to the Department of Forensic Medicine to identify your daughter,” she said. “So we can confirm that it is, in fact, her.”
“Of course,” he said quickly. “And maybe I can arrange the funeral?”
“I certainly don’t see a problem with that.” Louise smiled before saying good-bye and getting in the car.
13
T HEY WERE BOTH quiet as they drove back on the freeway, until Louise’s cell phone started ringing.
“No, don’t bring raw food,” she said after putting the headset on. Camilla was in Copenhagen and had dropped Markus off at home with Jonas. Now she was offering to take care of dinner. “Melvin is making rissoles; I’m sure you’re welcome to join us.”
Louise felt like she needed to shake off the visit to Lisemette’s father before she got back to Frederiksberg if
Similar Books
