The Fire Witness

166

Elin is driving recklessly fast up the steep hill. Last spring the runoff corrugated the road, and the key ring is rattling violently in the spare-change cup by the gearshift. Tree branches slap the sides of her Jeep and the gravel beats against its underside. She brakes during a steep curve and almost skids. The tires slide over the gravel, but she shifts into neutral, comes around, and hits the gas again.

Elin is driving too quickly when she reaches the turnoff to her house. She slows down just a little, but she swings wide and scrapes the side of the Jeep against one of the gateposts, knocking off a side mirror. She hits the gas and it seems like she’s about to launch into the air as she reaches the top. The case of mineral water in the back falls over with a crash.

She brakes hard at the house and leaps from the car, leaving the engine running. She runs straight inside. The metal shutters are closed. It’s dark and she stumbles over boots in the hall as she hurries into the large living room.

“Vicky!” she yells.

Elin turns on the lights and runs up the stairs. She slips and bangs her knee, jumps back up, and rushes toward Vicky’s room. She pushes down the handle. It’s locked. Elin bangs on the door and can hear the hysteria in her voice as she screams, “Open up!”

She can’t hear anything inside. She looks through the keyhole. A chair has been overturned and shadows are jerking across the walls.

“Vicky?”

She moves back and then kicks the door. There’s a thud, but nothing happens. She kicks again. Then she runs to the room next door, but there’s no key in the lock. She runs to the next room, and there’s a key to that bedroom still in the keyhole. She grabs it and runs back, knocking over a glass sculpture, which thuds to the floor. Her hands are shaking, but she manages to get the key into the lock and throw the door open.

“Oh God!” she whispers.

Vicky is hanging from the whitewashed beam by a bed sheet made into a noose. Her mouth is open and her face has lost color, but she’s kicking her feet. She’s still alive. She’s holding on to the noose, trying to relieve the pressure on her throat.

Elin doesn’t stop to think. She runs to Vicky and lifts her as high as she can.

“Try to get loose!” she exclaims, crying, as she holds her up by her thin legs.

The girl fights with the cloth. Her body is cramping and she has to get oxygen. She’s panicking and tearing at the cloth to get the noose off.

Elin hears Vicky draw in a lungful of air. She coughs and takes another deep breath. She starts to pant and her body goes tense.

“I can’t get it off.” Vicky coughs.

Elin stands on her toes and struggles to lift Vicky higher.

“Try to climb!”

“I can’t!”

The noose tightens again and Vicky can’t get enough air. She’s jerking in panic-induced convulsions. Elin’s arms are shaking from the effort of holding her.

She won’t give up.

She tries to reach the fallen chair with her foot so she can climb on it. She can’t reach it. Vicky is covered in sweat and her body spasms. Elin tries to change her grip, but it’s too hard. Still, she lowers one of her hands just a bit so she can lift higher. Vicky uses the last of her strength to fight the noose and manages to slip it over her chin and then off her head. Coughing, she falls to the floor in a tangled heap with Elin.

Vicky’s neck has a red bruise and she’s taking quick, shallow breaths, but she is breathing. She’s alive. Elin kisses her cheek and wipes her damp hair from her face. She whispers to Vicky to keep quiet.

“It was Daniel.”

“I know,” Elin says. “The police are on the way. Stay here. I’m going to lock the door, and you must keep completely quiet.”