C3 Chapter 3

Captain Winsnes gallantly helped the ladies back onto land.

“I’ve always had a way with women,” he confided to Tova after he had helped Ellen off the boat. “Can I tell you something?”

“Preferably not,” Tova muttered.

But her words didn’t seem to discourage the old man. “There was a time when I was able to tame them like an animal trainer tames circus horses! The little creatures would eat right out of my hand.”

“And now it’s just the opposite,” Tova said sweetly. “Kick back and neigh!”

The skipper had no control over himself: all he could do was go down on all fours and kick back as he neighed as best he could.

“Goodness, Winsnes!” commented a passer-by. “You certainly are going out of your way to impress the girls!”

Tova was greatly amused. “And now you’re a dog,” she said, “Lift your leg against the bollard there.”

Winsnes did as she said and got very wet pants as a result.

“Tova!” Nataniel roared when it became apparent what was going on. “Come over here immediately!”

She almost forgot to release the old man from her spell. She did so with a nonchalant wave of her hand and then ran to join the others.

Nataniel was furious. “He’s a kind and helpful old man, Tova!”

“He’s ridiculous!” she countered.

“If you dare do anything like that again, bad things will happen to you! Both from this side and the other!” he threatened.

“Bah!”

She lagged behind the other two, who were crossing the road. Now she realized how much Nataniel’s friendship meant to her – and there he was, putting on airs for that ... that ...

I’ll throw her overboard! thought the hopelessly lonely Tova.

Nataniel was in a dilemma. He couldn’t take the girls with him to see Mrs Karlberg. On the other hand, he didn’t dare leave them alone together. He recognized the hateful gleam in Tova’s eyes only too well, and he understood her bitterness. He had displayed his feelings for Ellen much too explicitly. Finally, he made a decision.

He asked Ellen to go and buy some seasickness pills and then wait in the cafeteria. And he took Tova with him. The reverse would not have been a good idea. It would simply have hurt Tova bitterly and made her even more antagonistic towards Ellen who, on the other hand, would probably be better able to understand his decision. Perhaps.

But he clenched his teeth when he saw the unfortunate Tova smiling triumphantly at Ellen as he informed them of his decision.

He shoved a fifty-kroner note into the hand of the only girl he had ever wanted. “Here! Think of it as housekeeping money!”

Ellen’s eyes grew teary. “That was the nicest thing you could say to me!”

He caressed her cheek sadly. “If only it could be true! If only we could have met each other as two normal people instead of confused detectives in an impossible mystery!”

Ellen stood for a long time looking after them as they left.

Then she gave a deep sigh and went over to the shopping centre. Here she bought what she needed for the trip, and with the ground still rocking back and forth under her feet she made her way to the cafeteria. She wasn’t exactly hungry, but perhaps a cup of coffee would help her frayed nerves to settle down. The sight of the open sandwiches topped with a heavy layer of mayonnaise gave her a bad taste in her mouth, and the smell of food turned her stomach, but it was wonderfully warm in there after having been out on the cold deck of the ferry.

After a while she discovered that she was a little hungry after all, so the fifty kroner Nataniel had given her were soon put to use. She got talking to a nice lady sitting at the next table. When Ellen told her that she was going to sail on the Stella the woman shuddered slightly.

“I am, too, but I’m not exactly looking forward to it. Perhaps we can keep each other company! I travelled on it recently and it was absolutely horrendous!”

“Really?” Ellen asked in surprise. “Tell me why.”

“Well, it was four or five days ago. There weren’t so many people on board that night. You know, a lot of people prefer not to sail on the Stella anymore. Partly because she’s in bad shape, and partly because there’s talk of a ghost on board. I didn’t believe it at first, but just as I entered the rear lounge I saw a soaking wet figure standing by the bench with his back to me. When he heard me he started to turn around, but I got the unpleasant feeling that I should probably avoid seeing his face, so I just ran back out. No one else saw him even though they looked everywhere, but many have seen wet footprints both before and after sightings. There’s also someone who’s heard mysterious footsteps. The Strand brothers claim it is a ghost from the shipwreck spit who’s come on board.”

“Are you related to them?”

“To the Strand brothers? No, thank goodness! Frederiksen, on the other hand ...” she paused shyly.

“The one who fell overboard? Was he related to you?”

“Well ... not directly ... but I have a daughter. She’s fourteen now. She is his. We were never married.”

“I understand,” Ellen said kindly.

“It was horrible when he died. We were waiting for him to acknowledge Bjørg as his daughter but she inherited nothing from him. She wasn’t mentioned at all, and what there was of his estate was distributed among his nephews, the Strand brothers.”

“Was he wealthy?” Ellen asked.

“No, not by any means. The only thing he owned was a small, dilapidated house out here. But I had hoped for a little something for our daughter to remember him by. He cared for her, you see, was always asking how she was, that sort of thing. It was my parents who were against our marrying. He had an alcohol problem, you see.”

Ellen nodded. “Perhaps he had planned to arrange something for the girl. But then he died so suddenly and unexpectedly.”

“No, his days were already numbered. He was well aware of that. It was his liver.”

Suicide? Ellen thought. But why then the cry of terror and the broken gunwale? It didn’t really add up.

She shuddered slightly. It was probably going to get interesting once they were on board the ferry. She was a little afraid, but she was also curious. And then she had Nataniel, of course.

If only Tova had liked her a little more!

Nataniel was sick and tired of having to listen to all of Mrs Karlberg’s strange digressions, even though he also felt sorry for her. He knew that Ellen was waiting for him, and it felt as if this woman was never going to finish. She just kept droning on, delighted at finally having an interested audience.

Tova sat listening to her, strangely quiet. She seemed to be fascinated by all Mrs Karlberg’s drivel.

The whole case was crystal clear. It all derived from her husband’s attitude. “My wife certainly isn’t going to work,” he had decreed. “How would that look? As though I couldn’t support her!”

So Mrs Karlberg, a vivacious, intelligent woman of forty-five, was forced to stay cooped up inside this magnificent villa and walk around idly for hours on end with a mind that was never truly able to rest and calm down. Something had sparked her obsession with Louis XIV and convinced her that she had been Madame de Pompadour. A little confusion must have arisen here, because Madame de Pompadour was the mistress of Louis XV, Louis XIV’s grandson, but Mrs Karlberg had admired the Sun King ever since her schooldays.

“So this spiritual figure has a message?” Nataniel asked carefully.

“Yes, I am the medium that is to bring that message to the people of today.”

“And what is that message?”

“His Majesty is asking that we preserve the earth and not ruin it with pollution.”

“I doubt you need to go to Louis XIV to figure that out. Does he speak French?”

She became confused. “I’ve never thought about that. I suppose he doesn’t, because I myself don’t speak French, except for a few phrases, and I have no problem understanding him. I was Madame de Pompadour in a previous life, as you know.”

Well, it was terribly convenient that they were able to speak Norwegian to each other, Nataniel thought. “So, would you call it a kind of telepathy?”

Mrs Karlberg nodded eagerly. Nataniel could tell that Tova was dying to contribute to the conversation, but he wasn’t going to let her. She was much too unpredictable. Furthermore, he didn’t understand Tova’s evident interest in the case.

It wasn’t an easy task for him. He was neither a physician nor a psychologist, so even though the diagnosis was clearly self-suggestion, he didn’t really know how to help this vibrant and sympathetic woman escape her twisted train of thought. Saying straight out to her that it was all a big bluff would have been too brutal, because she believed in it herself. It was also pointless to try talking to her husband. That insensitive oaf would never understand.

Suddenly Nataniel had an idea. With that lively imagination of hers, Mrs Karlberg must have some talent for writing ...

Yes, Mrs Karlberg got excited when he mentioned this and showed him some fragments of brief short stories that were more like situational sketches.

“Perfect!” said Nataniel when he had looked through them. “They have a clear sense of observation and the writing itself is well articulated and flawless. This is your future career, Mrs Karlberg!”

She became ecstatically happy, and he gave her some advice about starting with small pieces, perhaps contributing a few minor things to the local newspaper, a short story or two ... There was no reason to show any of it to her husband until it had been accepted for publication somewhere, because criticism can make a sensitive person lose heart. She nodded, full of eagerness and intensity.

But then there was the issue of King Louis XIV.

She was willing to go along with Nataniel “intensifying the contact” as he put it. She leaned across the table with her eyes closed and placed her hands trustingly in his. Nataniel silently asked forgiveness, both from her and from King Louis, for the lèse majesté he was about to commit, and then he concentrated on conjuring up an image of a decrepit, sallow-skinned man of fashion, ridiculously conceited and flirtatious, with bad teeth and a shabby wig, smelly and heavily powdered.

Mrs Karlberg was easily influenced, just as Nataniel had suspected.

“I can see him! I see him! He is here!”

Her enthusiasm gradually faded, until Nataniel quickly erased the image from her mind. Mrs Karlberg opened her eyes in confusion.

“Ugh!” she said with a shudder, smoothing her hair. “I haven’t had a proper look at him until now. Do you think I should risk writing a whole novel? I have an idea for one.”

“Yes, why not?” he said encouragingly. “But don’t expect to get anything published right away. You often have to write a lot before that happens. It can take years before you come up with a presentable manuscript.”

As he went out of the door he had an irresistible urge to laugh. The image he had conjured up of the Sun King had been too ridiculous. Such senile and dirty men probably didn’t even exist back then. Poor little Mrs Karlberg.

It wasn’t until he was outside the house that he realized that Tova hadn’t come out with him.

“Mrs Karlberg,” Tova whispered so that Nataniel wouldn’t hear. “Who was it who helped you to discover your previous life?”

“Goodness ... I don’t know ... I don’t think I’m supposed to ...”

“I must know. Something, or rather, someone inside me is waiting to do the same as you. It’s very important!”

“Do you have a message?” Mrs Karlberg whispered conspiratorially.

“I think so,” Tova whispered back. “An incantation from the old days won’t leave me in peace.”

“I understand. Oh, what was his name again? I think it was Gørensen ... no, Sölvesen ...”

“Where does he live?”

“I don’t know. He was just visiting here. He was some kind of doctor, I think. I’m sorry, I just don’t remember; it’s many years ago.”

“Oh well,” said Tova, “my cousin is waiting for me. But here is my name and telephone number. Should you recall the doctor’s name, do call me!”

“I will,” said Mrs Karlberg, but Tova could see that she had already pushed the thought aside because she was much too preoccupied with dreams of becoming an author.

Ellen introduced the woman to Nataniel and Tova as Mary and explained to them who she was. Nataniel immediately grew interested and posed her a number of questions, to which Mary responded to the best of her ability. Ellen understood that her own conspiratorial questions wouldn’t prove particularly useful in a police investigation.

He wanted to know how the figure had been dressed.

“Like most people around here when the sea is raging. In oilskins and sou’wester. And rubber boots.”

“The classic outfit for the ghost of someone who drowned,” Nataniel murmured. “Was he big or small?”

“Everyone looks big when they’re wearing those clothes.”

“Yes. You said that you were gripped with panic. Why?”

“It’s not so easy to explain. It hadn’t rained that day and the sea was quiet, so there was no reason for anyone to be dressed like that. And he was soaking wet – the water was running off him. I had heard the Strand brothers talk about the ghost, and we were right by the ship graveyard. At that moment I was gripped by an intense sense of fear and horror of seeing his face.”

“So deep down you felt that it couldn’t have been a living person? I mean, that was your initial reaction?”

“Yes, absolutely.”

Nataniel gave a nod of acknowledgment. He liked the direct way in which she answered his questions. It could be that she had been mistaken, that it was all just due to nerves, but nevertheless she certainly knew exactly what she had felt and could formulate it in words, which was something he really appreciated.

Nataniel placed his arm on Ellen’s shoulder. “Have you taken your pill?”

“I was just about to wash it down with the last of the coffee.”

Tova pointed at the cafeteria door and asked: “Is that one of the Strand brothers coming in?”

When the others turned towards the door she threw two of her own motion sickness pills into Ellen’s coffee cup. She could no longer stand Nataniel’s sheepish adoration of this pretty girl.

“No, it’s not one of the Strand brothers,” said Mary. “They’re probably already on board the ferry.”

“Yes, and isn’t it about time we went on board, too?” asked Nataniel.

Ellen quickly washed down her pill with the coffee. She made a face, as though it tasted bitter, and Tova concealed a smile.

Then they left.

It was already dark, as it was late autumn, and the wind was increasing. The Stella lay creaking and scraping against the edge of the pier. It was harder to see just how dilapidated she was in the darkness; nevertheless, a wave of repugnance went through Ellen as she crossed the gangway.

“Nataniel?” she whispered. “Do you feel the same about this as I do?”

He nodded and stopped in the narrow passage outside the stairs to the lounge. “It’s like entering a house that is full of bad memories. But that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s haunted.”

“No, but there’s generally a gloomy atmosphere here. Nataniel, I feel an intense sense of fear. Something within me is telling me to turn around before it’s too late. But it’s probably just because of my fear of becoming seasick.”

“No,” he answered slowly. “You know, Ellen, I think it would be best if you stayed on land. Tova and I will handle this trip on our own.”

“Yes, I think that would be best, too,” Tova said quickly.

Ellen was in two minds about it. “I feel exactly the same as I did when we were to visit the frightening place of my childhood. Do you remember, Nataniel? I was mortally afraid but I wanted to be with you. And everything turned out fine then.”

Nataniel looked alarmingly pale in the dull overhead light. “It’s different this time, Ellen. Back then we were only dealing with unpleasant visions; what we’re facing now is true danger. I sense it so clearly that it’s making my sweat run cold.”

Ellen bit her lip. Her hand squeezed his very hard, as though she never wanted to be separated from him again. “You’re probably right,” she said despondently. “But promise you’ll take care of yourself, Nataniel! This ferry is scary. You two probably ought to stay on land as well!” She gave a resigned sigh, then called along the passage: “Mary and Tova, I’m going back on shore but Nataniel will be with you the whole time. So you won’t be alone. Nothing can happen to you as long as he is with you.”

Mary gave them a surprised look. “Going ashore? But it’s too late, we’ve already left the pier.”

Not until then did Ellen notice the rhythmic vibration from the engine room. She stared at Natanial in fright. “Do you remember how I tried to jump from the train? When we tried to change the course of our fates? It is as though we are being relentlessly dragged towards the place we are destined to go, even if it’s against our will.”

He pulled her to him. She could sense his fearful, trembling breathing.

“And on such a small boat,” he whispered to himself. “With no possibility of getting off. Stella, heading towards the ship graveyard. Ellen, I’m not usually afraid, but I am now, terribly afraid!”

While Nataniel was talking to Mary, Tova stood watching the lights in Blåsvika disappear behind them. The biting winds didn’t bother her.

Ellen came and stood next to her. Tova felt like walking away but she forced herself to stay there.

Ellen sighed. “I wish you’d accept me, Tova. I’m also one of the Ice People, you know. We’re family.”

Tova didn’t answer her. This was mainly because she didn’t know what to say. She desperately wanted to hit back with a sharp reply but she knew perfectly well that she was the inferior one. She was the one who was acting stupidly.

“I know that it’s no fun having to see others who ... care for one another,” Ellen said in a low voice. “They always look so silly to the rest of the world. But you are much more fortunate in your relationship with Nataniel than I am.”

Tova scrutinized her covertly.

“You are Nataniel’s friend,” said Ellen. “You have the possibility of keeping him. Forever. Whereas with me ... Well, he likes me now, but that will pass someday. It must and will pass, because he and I can never have one another.”

“What sort of nonsense is that?” Tova hissed.

“It’s the truth,” Ellen said despondently. “We have to forget one another, because Nataniel has seen that if we so much as kiss one another it will lead to catastrophe.”

“A catastrophe? From a kiss?” Tova snorted.

“Yes, don’t ask me to explain it because he doesn’t even understand it himself. I just wanted you to know, because you are his friend.”

Tova still couldn’t think of anything to answer so she walked along the deck, running her hand along the railing. It hurt in the pit of her stomach, with an unpleasant sense of spiritual pain. She loathed those who loved each other, whether they got one another or not.

She went down to the big lounge in the bow with the others. It was furnished with plush-covered couches that had once been deep red, but the colour of the material had faded and the edges were threadbare so that the grey wool underneath had started to show. The lighting on the Stella probably hadn’t been replaced since the ship’s heyday. The pale light of the moon shone through the roof, and dead flies and wasps lay inside the lamps.

There was only a small handful of people in the lounge. Winsnes was there, a little more sober now, and four workers and a housewife who were clearly defying both the storm and the corpses that had been washed ashore. Winsnes winked at them and they went and sat down.

“Welcome aboard my ship,” said Winsnes. “I’ve told the deck boy that there are three passengers travelling for free. Why hello, Mary, so you’re also sailing with us today?”

Mary smiled shyly.

Ellen looked around anxiously. She felt a tingling inner sense of distaste for the old boat. Everything was shabby and dilapidated; not even the tiny spark of romance that small coastal boats could display was present here. It was just cold and draughty, dirty and messy and shabby. Had Ellen slapped the plush with her hand a cloud of dust would probably have arisen from it. So she decided not to.

“Tell me, Winsnes,” said Nataniel. “Was the Stella anchored in Blåsvika while the new ferry was in use?”

“No, she had already been transported to town for redressing. She was in the shipyard there.”

“Could anybody have climbed aboard at that time?”

“No, that’s impossible. The shipyard is closed off and strictly guarded, both on land and from the seaward side.”

Nataniel thought for a moment. “Could someone have tampered with the engine of the new ferry?”

Now the old man got excited. “Yes, I believe that is a lot more likely! I’m certain that the Strand brothers drained it of all its oil. They wanted to take revenge on me, by means of the new ferry. They have ruined everything for me!”

The Stella rocked back and forth considerably more than the big car ferry, and Ellen hoped that the pill would soon work. She asked Mary: “Was it in this lounge that you saw ... that?”

“No, in the stern lounge. I’ll never go back there.”

The deck boy, who had a fox-like sly appearance and a scowling gaze, went around selling tickets. He looked at the three strangers with curiosity. Winsnes referred to him as Egil and was given a disrespectful glance in response.

“May we see the stern lounge?” Nataniel asked Winsnes.

“You can see the whole boat. I’ll show you around.”

“Thanks, but no thanks,” said Mary. “I’m staying here.”

Ellen took a deep breath that turned into a gasp. “I think the tablet is beginning to take effect,” she said, laughing awkwardly. “These pills always make me drowsy. If only I could go and lie down somewhere.”

“Try to stay awake,” said Nataniel, smiling. “This coastal vessel is a veritable museum. You don’t see too many of them in use now.”

“A coffin ship!” said Tova irreverently. She didn’t have the least respect for museums.

They followed Winsnes up the worn staircase. Ellen avoided touching anything, unless it was absolutely necessary. She thought of the boat as a living, malicious entity. It creaked and groaned everywhere, like a quarrelsome old woman protesting at its treatment by the wind and waves. The smell of oil from the engine room and the pervasive semi-darkness everywhere were extremely annoying. Perhaps Ellen should really have felt sorry for the old boat that was now on its final voyage, but she couldn’t. Everything on board seemed gloomy and ominous. Furthermore, she was constantly mortally afraid that the boat would simply dissolve and sink silently and without trace.

Upstairs in the little gangway that ran under the bridge, Winsnes said: “These two doors lead to the crew’s cabins. The one on the right side is vacant, so if the young lady would like to lie down for a moment, she is welcome to use it.”

“Thank you, perhaps a little later,” Ellen answered. “As long as I am able to stand on my feet I’d prefer to stay and see what happens.”

Lying all alone in a cabin on this terrible boat was completely out of the question for her! As long as she could cling to Nataniel, with a firm grip of his coat pocket, she would be all right.

But her sense of fatigue overwhelmed her and she gasped again.

They went out on deck and were forced to grab hold of the handrail in order not to be thrown overboard. Ellen was sure that the rail would break, but it seemed stable here along the side of the boat. They were now out on the open sea, and the waves were crashing all the way up onto the deck. A long stretch of the coast was visible, and the terrible spit with its many shipwrecks on its conscience could be discerned way out in the darkness. There was a small lighthouse out there, glowing bravely in the stormy weather.

Nataniel was very distracted and not at all attentive to her. All his senses were preoccupied with something Ellen couldn’t identify; nevertheless, she was able to grasp and sense its presence. That which she could only faintly sense he must be experiencing very strongly. She didn’t dare ask him what he was going through.

But worse than anything was Tova’s attitude. The girl followed Ellen’s every movement very carefully, with glimpses of a sly, hopeful and deeply despicable smile on her unattractive face. Once, Ellen had felt sorry for Tova, but she was finding it increasingly hard to feel any sympathy for her. The girl is evil, Ellen thought. Evil and hard and ruthless – and she hates me. What is it she’s expecting to happen?

“You saw the forecastle deck when you came on board,” Winsnes shouted, pulling his skipper’s cap down over his ears. “Below that is the lounge that we’ve just left, and way up front is the room for the anchor windlass. We’ll go to the stern now.”

Walking as unsteadily as drunkards, they made their way back through the ship.

“This door leads down to the engine,” said Winsnes. “We can go there afterwards if you like.”

“Yes, please,” said Nataniel.

He and Ellen exchanged glances. It wasn’t the engine they wanted to see.

Ellen’s eyelids felt as heavy as lead. It was hard for her to move her feet. She couldn’t understand how a single pill could knock her out to such a degree. To be allowed to sleep now would be the most wonderful thing.

They continued back towards the worn afterdeck, where a tarpaulin was whipping and fluttering. Gusts of wind sent spindrifts in through the open sides. A staircase led down to the stern lounge and they climbed down it.

This lounge was smaller than the first one, but otherwise closely resembled it. Threadbare couches and other benches fastened to the floor stood in pairs in rows across the floor, creating a small aisle and two corridors. A few broken tables were still standing, otherwise marks on the floor indicated where others had once stood when they had been fastened to the floor. There was only a single working lamp hanging from the ceiling. The light was even dimmer in here than it had been in the big lounge.

Ellen observed with horror how Nataniel’s eyes grew big with surprise while the corners of his mouth turned down. Oh, she knew that look all too well, but she wished she didn’t have to see it on board this wreck of a ship drifting on a winter-cold sea with an infamous ship graveyard straight ahead.

“What is it?” she asked Nataniel in a low voice. Winsnes was also looking at Nataniel in wonderment.

“Can’t you see it?” Nataniel asked agitatedly.

“Yes, I can,” Tova hurried to say, with barely concealed triumph in her voice.

“See what?” Winsnes asked, his mouth agape.

Nataniel looked around at the walls, ran his fingers across a plush seat and then pulled his hand back, making a grimace as he did so. Then he carefully stepped forward, gazing at the floor. Tova followed him. She, too, avoided certain spots on the floor. Then Nataniel pulled himself together.

“Something’s taken place here,” he said with a deliberate tone of indifference in his voice, as though he didn’t want to scare them. “All of Stella is evil, but the root of all its evil is located here. Do you know the boat’s entire history, Winsnes?”

“Not from before I took it over. And it was already old then.”

Ellen froze. “Nataniel,” she said. “There’s someone standing behind me.”

“Yes, I dare say there is,” he said dryly.

She turned around. A man had come down the stairs and stood holding on to the door frame, observing them with contempt and suspicion.

“What are you doing here?” he asked roughly.

Winsnes straightened his back. “You would think that I would be allowed to go wherever I wanted. This is, after all, my boat.”

There was a hint of a smile on the man’s face. “Not for much longer.”

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you what you’re doing here?” asked Winsnes. “Who’s at the helm?”

“Egil.”

“You let the deck boy take the helm? In this weather? Get back there immediately!”

The man didn’t budge. He resembled his brother to a remarkable degree, except that he was a bit older and seemed more sly. He glanced around the group assembled before him.

“So you’ve got some ghost experts with you, huh? Is that really going to help?” His voice grew cold. “Passengers don’t have access to this room. Bad ghosts of drowned people may come and abduct the young ladies, and we wouldn’t want that, now would we?”

At that very moment the Stella keeled over, and Winsnes shouted in a shrill voice: “Go up to the bridge!”

With calculated slowness, Ingvar Strand let his gaze rest on Winsnes. It was clear that he had no intention of taking orders from the old man.

But Tova had had enough. Nataniel heard her muttering a long incantation, then Ingvar Strand stared down at the floor – whereupon he let out a wild scream. His feet moved as if they had been exposed to burning coals; he struggled and toiled to get away from something and then flew up the stairs.

“Tova!” Nataniel said sternly. “What was that all about?”

“Scorpions,” she answered lightly. “Beautiful little scorpions, all ready to attack and sting.”

“Scorpions!” he whispered back furiously. “Couldn’t you at least have thought of something more credible?”

“It isn’t easy to think clearly when every second counts the way it does here,” she said, in such a nonchalant voice that he could have hit her. But he had difficulty keeping a straight face.

Winsnes didn’t know what to say.

“Don’t give it a thought,” said Nataniel. “Let’s get out of here!”

When they had climbed the stairs Winsnes said to Nataniel, “This won’t work at all. I don’t trust those brothers. We’ll have to go up to the bridge.”

Ellen stayed on the afterdeck, where the wind tore through the tarpaulin above them. “I ... I don’t think I’ll be coming up with you,” she said, clinging to the stairway. “Perhaps it’s best if I lie down for a little. Just a very little while.”

“As you wish,” Nataniel said, smiling. “You don’t look too well. My mother gets the same reaction when she takes seasickness pills. She nods off and just sleeps the whole way.”

If only you knew, Tova thought, smiling maliciously. Just you go to sleep, then you won’t be in my way anymore.

Nataniel accompanied Ellen down to the cabin, which, although it wasn’t particularly clean, did at least have a bed. Ellen practically collapsed onto it. Nataniel spread a more or less clean blanket over her but asked her to stay awake long enough to lock the door behind him when he left.

“I don’t like the crew on board this ship,” he said in a low voice. “You are not to let anyone in!”

Not even Tova, he was about to add, but just couldn’t get himself to say it.

Ellen’s gaze was hazy. She thought Nataniel had suddenly grown very tall. He towered above the bed like a giant several metres high.

“Nataniel, what was it you saw in the stern lounge?” she asked, her voice grainy.

He hesitated for a moment. “Blood. There had been a fight there. But I could only see the fallout, no people. I don’t know how long ago it was, either. And then there was something about a key.”

“Did you also see a key?”

“No, it just emerged before my mind’s eye.”

To think that it should be so hard for her to keep herself awake now that she finally had the opportunity to be alone with Nataniel! But they weren’t allowed to get close to one another. An intense pain that threatened to develop into tears burned within Ellen.

“I just need to rest for ten minutes. Promise me you’ll come back and wake me,” she said, half-stifled.

He promised her he would and after quickly stroking her cheek he bade her goodnight and left. Ellen reached up and turned the key by the lock, and then her eyelids shut of themselves. She sensed how heavy her body became and how her thoughts began to slide away.

Suddenly she started and struggled to wake up again. Had Nataniel returned already? No, he had just left her.

But somewhere close to her someone was wandering about. Someone who was so big and heavy that every step he took made the walls shake. It had to be a scary monster of some kind. As he dragged his feet it thundered like a warning of Judgment Day in the old, doomed vessel Stella.

Ellen tried to wake up. It was physically painful to leave the paralysing state of slumber she had been in, and the terrible thundering overpowered everything, vibrating in her ears so that she curled up. She wanted to scream but it would have been drowned out by those relentless footsteps.

Suddenly she realized that the footsteps had entered the passageway just outside her door. And she heard more and more because it was as though all sounds were becoming louder and louder. Rubber boots swished in water, oilskins rustled and everything was splashing with water.

Ellen had lain like this once before listening to footsteps outside her door, but back then she hadn’t known Nataniel and she had been all alone in an old inn. She had become inured since then. And this time he and many others were present aboard the ship, so she was not alone.

And her ability to sense fear wasn’t at its normal level, either. She was in a deep, slumbering state because of the pills, and she was no longer sure whether she was awake or dreaming.

But it was incredible how strongly that one little sleeping pill had affected her! Never before had she had such a strong reaction to them.

The footsteps moved away from the door and went astern. With an enormous effort, Ellen staggered half unconscious to the door, unlocked it and went outside.

“I’m coming,” she muttered in response to an unspoken question.

Hazily and unclearly, she saw the big, wet prints of a pair of boots. They showed her the way. Her head was swimming, and she felt as though she was rocking back and forth. The ferry creaked and listed more intensely than before, and when she came out on the deck a lighthouse was suddenly flashing right before her eyes and made her jump back. The lighthouse was right opposite the ferry, and around the flashing light cascades of foam glowed grey in the evening darkness. The roaring boom of the breakers struck her. They would soon be passing the cliff with the ship graveyard at its foot.

Ellen struggled to move towards the stern of the boat. The footprints were no longer visible, partly because of the darkness and partly because the deck was so wet. But she could just discern a big figure disappearing down into the stern lounge.

She cried out Nataniel’s name in the direction of the bridge, but it was no use. Perhaps he wasn’t even up there any longer. No one could have heard her soft voice in all that noise. It was as though she was all alone aboard the ship, as though it was only her and Stella and this unknown figure that had now disappeared from the afterdeck.

Had Ellen been properly awake she would never have gone down the passage on her own but right now she had a hazy notion that she needed to follow that vanishing figure .

The boat listed abruptly, and it was only because she was holding onto the rail so firmly that she managed not to get thrown overboard. She thought of Frederiksen, who had been tossed over the rail. It seemed sturdy enough, she thought. With fumbling hands, she reached the stairs to the lounge, opened the door and practically sleep-walked down the steps.

The door behind her slammed with a frightening, definitive bang.

The lounge lay deserted before her. The single lamp in the ceiling couldn’t provide enough light. She grew tired standing there with her hand resting on the door handle. She swayed slowly back and forth with the movements of the boat.

“Yes?” she said quizzically in a hazy voice.

The lounge was still empty but up on the afterdeck running footsteps could be heard trying to get away.

In Ellen’s hazy consciousness a thought emerged unclearly. She stood still for a moment, listened inwardly, and began to fumble her way across the floor. She fell, hurt herself on a table, lay there in a fog, but got back on her feet. She had to reach the opposite wall. She just absolutely had to.

But why? She couldn’t quite remember.

She reached the wall and sat down on a dilapidated couch as the boat creaked once more. She shook her head and continued. The light from the lighthouse with its irritating flashes shone directly on her through the window pane. Her hands fumbled across the bench and sought underneath the plush seat, which had been torn to pieces.

Suddenly she straightened up. Through the noise coming from the breakers she thought she could hear someone shouting for help.

At the same time it grew strangely quiet.

The engine had stopped.