Free One, Two ... He Is Coming for You by Willow Rose Page B

back.”
    I nodded.
    “But I could have stopped them,” he then said. “I should have.”
     
    We began to walk back to the riding club. I had promised Sune I wouldn’t
take too long since we had a long drive home, and he had to pick up his son.
    “You have a son?” I asked in surprise.
    “Yes I do.”
    “You didn’t tell me that.”
    “Well, you didn’t ask.”
    His son was apparently seven years old. Sune was only nineteen when he
got him. The boy’s mother had been young too, and she didn’t want the child. So
he was a single dad.
    I was stunned at the way people kept surprising me lately and wondered
what else he had kept from me as we walked back in silence. I also wondered
about this group of boarding school kids who had terrorized the whole school
for years without any consequences. I wondered what role Ulrik Gyldenlove had
in it and how I was supposed to put it all in an article without putting Irene
Hansen’s life at risk. I would have to discuss it with Ole, my editor, when we
got back., We reached the riding club where Sune was waiting for us together
with Ulrik’s daughter.
    “Can I see the picture again?” Ulrik asked just as we were about to
leave.
    I got it out of my pocket and handed it to him.
    He stared at it and I saw sadness in his eyes.
    “These two are dead now,” he said and pointed at Didrik Rosenfeldt and
Henrik Holch.
    I nodded.
    “Then there are only three of us left.”
    I looked surprised at him.
    “You mean four, right?”
    He put his finger on another boy’s face in the photo.
    “No. This guy, Bjorn Clausen, killed himself in 1987. That means there
are only three left.”

 
     
     
     
     
     
    15
     
     
     
    So one of the boarding school boys was already dead. But how did he die? I
searched the internet when we got back to Karrebaeksminde and in all the
newspapers at the library. And I had Sune find anything he could on Bjorn
Clausen and his suicide in 1987 from the Internet and the police archive. But
all we got was a small note in the local paper and an old report from the
police of what was a closed case, a definitely suicide.
    Jumped out from a bridge in front of a train
    I had run dry of ideas. Who was that guy? I asked myself and looked at
the picture. Brown hair, blue eyes. Tall, muscular. He looked a bit familiar
too me, but I couldn’t quite place him.
    I decided to let it go and concentrated on my article while Sune went to
get his son. I told him he could drop his son off at my dad’s and he would take
care of him while we were working.
    Sune called me after he had dropped off his son. I learned his son was
Tobias, Julie’s new best friend in school, so that turned out to be a very
popular decision. I was getting quite good at this small-town life I asked Sune
to bring pizza when he got back.
    Jumping out from a bridge, getting hit by a train was certainly an
effective way of killing yourself. But why? He was nineteen. He had just
graduated from high school six months before. Was it just teenage depression?
Ulrik Gyldenlove had described as a cold-hearted player of a game where they
would beat the living out of kids that were younger than them and rape a local
girl just for the fun of it Had he had some regrets? Some kind of conscience?
Was he unable to keep on living knowing what he and his friends had done? It
sounded a bit unlikely to me.
    “Maybe the killer had already begun looking to get revenge back in 1987.”
Sune said with cheese from the pizza on his lip.
    I signaled with my finger on my own lip, and he removed it.
    “That‘s possible. But why wait twenty-four years before killing the
next?”
    “I don’t know,” Sune said with his mouth full.
    “Maybe the killer has been away. Maybe he was sent to college somewhere
out of the country. Maybe in England or in the U.S.?”
    Sune nodded. ”That sounds likely. A lot of these kids went on to become
big-shots later in life and often they would have to go to foreign countries in
order to get