Sinking E-Book

Bernt Moehrle

• Herausgeber: Books on Demand
• Kategorie: Abenteuer, Thriller, Horror
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 282

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023

Beschreibung

John from Liverpool, Bjoern, a Swedish sailor, Tim, a Swiss bank employee, Morten, a capricious Dutch hippy and Jan, a music-making Dutch sailor met on a dream Thai beach Ao Sane, Nai Harn on the island of Phuket. At a New Year's party on Ao Sane, the idea was born in John's head to smuggle two tons of the best Moroccan hashish to Australia with his new yacht Summer King. What started as a sporting challenge ended in a fiasco with a dramatic outcome... The story is based on true events

Leseprobe

An AO SANE thriller

based on true events

written by Bernt Moehrle

Sinking

An other story from the Kingdom of Illusions

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

1

On approach to Amsterdam airport, Brad can't help but think of the ill-fated plane that crashed shortly after take-off in 1992. It was passing judgement on 200 people in a huge fireball.

The plane couldn't get its nose up and ploughed a swath through the Bijlmermeer residential area, until it got stuck in a large apartment building.

The people simply disappeared. With a thousand degrees of heat generated when such quantities of kerosene burn, human tissue vaporises completely. Brad was living in Bijlmermeer at the time. He might as well have been there with those it rolled away. His parents lived a few blocks from the scene of the accident. The images in Germany, where he was staying at this time, when it happened, hit him all the more. The sudden death of so many people he knew. He was shocked. Whose images now loomed dimly in his mind's eye during the landing procedure.

The Lord God spared me then, but he has already thrown his lasso at me. The noose is already around my neck,

Brad has realised this since his last visit to the doctor. With his HIV diagnosis and the progression of the disease, he doesn't have much time left. Time he'd like to have, now that things are going so well. Where things are really humming and he earned over a million euros last year.

It was harder than he thought it would be, until it finally started to go right. The risk of getting caught increased as he took more risks, but some situations came so unexpectedly, that he was able to escape the police by the skin of his teeth more than once. Finally he has made it! His first million is earned. It is quick money, "easy money" - drug money! No one knows better than Brad, how quickly such money is squandered again. "Easy come, easy go" is the formula. If he's not careful, the good money will soon be gone again. In this business, people like to get used to luxury and expensive lifestyles.

But Brad wants out, out of this business, no more coke and dope. He wants to quit it once and for all. Since he knows how sick he is, Brad wants to start a new life in peace, without stress, on an island somewhere.

Mona has problems with flying, as always. No direct fear of flying, but nervousness and a slight stomach ache. It helps her, when she folds up the centre backrest and huddles tightly against Brad. They both watch through the window as the plane touches down on the tarmac. Outside it has already become dark, it is raining. But fourteen degrees outside, as the purserette has just announced over the loudspeaker is too warm for mid-December, and thoughts flash through Brad's mind from climate change to rising sea levels. For a moment he sees Holland already covered by a huge expanse of water, which, however, after focusing his eyes and returning to reality, presents itself as his reflection on the rain-soaked dark window pane. Brad notices his forehead furrowed with worry, the wrinkles he always has when he thinks sharply or is afraid. He doesn't really like these wrinkles, although they ideally complement his rascally face and have often been confirmed as an interesting part of his appearance.

Next to his reflection in the glass, Mona's even face appears beautiful and mysterious. The dark colour of her skin reveals only the outlines, and her large, deep eyes seek Brad's gaze as the machine comes to a halt. "At last, Earth has us again!" she half whispers to herself as they both drop back into their seats and pause for a moment until they get up to head for the exit.

In the airport building they see Morten. He is standing behind passport control near the exit, moving in slow motion on the spot. Tai chi is his latest buzz, he works out whenever and wherever he thinks he can. Brad is not aware at this point how lucky he is to be waved through at passport control. He has no idea! But the officials look at Mona's passport all the more thoroughly. But her papers are in perfect order. The passport is new, and the visa for Holland that she had obtained at the consulate in Ghana, her home country, was expensive enough not to be worth anything now. No, there was nothing to complain about.

The customs officers saluted them back and waved them through. In the course of his career, Brad has become accustomed to very elegant and professional manners.

Morten looks on Bread, stiff as a salted herring with a deadpan face.

Sometime in the early eighties he overdosed on LSD and has since been suffering from a psychosis that has earned him a medical certificate from the Dutch health authorities stating that he is unable to work. Recently he has been receiving a monthly pension from the state.

The moment he sees Brad and Mona, he rolls his eyes like the Indian Kali and gestures for them to meet at the exit.

The three friends greet each other warmly, and Morten murmurs nasally how unsafe the situation in Amsterdam has become for them during their absence and that they should better not go to their flat. The police would have been there this morning. They would have questioned the neighbours.

"They're looking for you, Brad! They're looking for you! They caught José yesterday morning at the border to Germany. They must have been watching him for a while. The crazy thing is, he had bank receipts from Swiss banks in the car with your name on them, and now they want you, Brad!"

Then he stops and repeats, "They're looking for you, they're looking for you!" Each time he repeats the phrase, he turns his head alternately sometimes to Brad, then to Mona. To make matters worse, he performs Tai Chi exercises with sweeping movements in slow motion. He's just nuts!

"Listen, Morten," Brad hisses at him, "if you want them to catch us right here in the airport, keep it up, you're acting like a pause clown, can't you at least stop with your stupid movements! That's bound to get people's attention."

"Stupid movements? Did you say stupid movements? This is Tai Chi man, and it puts me firmly on the ground with both feet!" protests Morten, turning his head to the side in a huff.

"Tai Chi not only gives me a firm footing, but iron bars grow on my feet. Nothing will knock me over there, my friend!"

"Sure Morten, it's obvious, but not here and now. We need to go somewhere underground first and figure out what we're going to do you know what I mean, Morten?"

Morten then looks at Brad with his typical look. His eyes then look through his counterpart as if reading off an imaginary teleprompter in the background. A facial expression that could be described as enraptured at this moment. When Morten looks like this, Brad knows that something is working inside him. The acid in his head moves something and he either comes back to the carpet, or else he totally snaps. Brad holds his breath. But Morten remains calm. Since he's been taking the pills for his delusions, he handles stressful situations much better. Calmly he says:

"You can't stay here. You have to leave Holland as soon as possible! We're going to see Jost in Lemmer first! I've already called him."

Jost has a small recording studio in the old town of Lemmer. His order situation is rather modest. He earns his money by providing sound for the Lemmer municipality's summer cultural programme and similar events in the area. Especially in the season, when the Ijsselmeer is teeming with sailors and tourists, there are often karaoke competitions and techno parties. Every now and then, a well-known rock band plays.

This is always a special event for Jost, because he can show, what he is capable of as a trained sound engineer by mixing a perfect sound for the bands.

Jost, Morten and Brad have known each other since they were kids. They all come from Bijlmermeer. After school they went their separate ways, but they never completely lost sight of each other. On the contrary, today they are best friends.

Jost has integrity of character, is reliable, always positive in his thinking and for many of his friends a place to go when it comes to soul massage or all kinds of problems. They say Jost always knows advice.

"Where did you leave Mona?", Jost asks them as they greet each other.

"There are problems!" replies Brad. "She stayed in Amsterdam."

"What kind of problems? Come let's go into the studio, we'll be undisturbed and can talk about everything."

"Good idea," says Morten, who has already resumed his Tai Chi training.

The studio is in the basement, and during construction Jost made a point of having a window built in the control room, through which daylight shines. This does not create the underground atmosphere of many closed-off studios.

Jost puts the twenty-four-track tape of his last production with Max, a Dutch songwriter, on the Lyrec. The music resounds while Brad tinkers with a joint. Jost proudly points out to the friends that he has an analogue tape machine in addition to digital recording capabilities. This would give him a warm sound like the old rock bands, which today's bands appreciate. "Look Jost, here's the thing! Morten has already told you that they have caught José. Unfortunately, they also found out about me through some bank statements. I have to get out of Holland. I'm a wanted man. It may only be a matter of hours, then it will be very difficult to get out of here, to find a safe place," Brad starts.

"So it has to be quick, and I already know where I want to go, to Thailand. Since I've been HIV positive, that's where I want to go. No more business, no more fear. Just spend the time I have left in peace and quiet, that's what I want!"

"You have AIDS, I didn't know that before!" interrupts Jost, looking at Brad worriedly.

"Then please keep that to yourself!" Brad admonishes him.

"Yes, please keep that to yourself", repeats Morten, who has given himself over to his Tai Chi in time to the music.

"You know Jost, it's not just that I'm positive, I have a fungus in my blood," Brad continues. "That means the disease has broken out. No doctor can help me with that. They just can't get it out of my system. I've seeing so many doctors. Nothing! Sometimes I have severe pain because the fungus settles in the blood vessels where it multiplies. Then I beat on the painful areas with my fists, practically box myself. I don't know if that's medically correct, but it gives me relief."

"Are you always in pain?" asks Jost.

"No, it comes in spurts. Thank God there are also times when I am pain-free. But Jost, I feel I don't have too much time left. I have to think about death so often.

Several times a day it appears in my thoughts. It scares me! I'm sure I'll feel better in the warm sun in Thailand.

There is supposed to be a small beach there where people live like in paradise. Jan told me about it. He's been flying there for years."

"Like paradise," Morten mimics. "You can get a little taste of it there, he he."

"If I didn't know you so well, I'd say you were a giant asshole," Brad returns him.

"Obviously you haven't lost your sense of humour since they certified you insane," Jost adds. The three look at each other with slightly reddened eyes and burst out laughing almost hysterically.

"If that's the case, we'll have to see how we can get you to Thailand as soon as possible. You can't fly from Holland," Jost ends the burst of laughter. "But wait a minute! It would probably be safest from Zurich. Of course! Tim is still in Amsterdam. But he wanted to go to Switzerland tonight. Twenty kilos of Morocco are supposed to go to Zurich."

"That would be great," Brad says delightedly, "call him and ask him if he can give me a lift." Brad immediately calls his Swiss bank to report that he wants to withdraw a large amount at short notice. In three minutes Jost has informed Tim by phone what has to be done, and in the evening Tim and Brad are sitting together in the prepared Benz with 20 kilos of first-class Moroccan hashish in the tank on the way to Zurich.

Morten wants to go back to Amsterdam, wants to see what's up with Mona. She would have loved to go to Thailand with Brad, but because of the circumstances Brad said she should join him later.

Tim takes the route via Belgium and France to Switzerland. Everything goes smoothly at the borders.

They are not even stopped.

Arriving in Zurich, Brad gets himself dropped off in front of his Swiss bank. He withdraws an amount of eight hundred thousand dollars. The money is handed over to him without a hitch. He knows that actually only half of it still belongs to him. He should have paid the other four hundred thousand to his Moroccan connection. It is the remaining debt from his last delivery for Germany. But he hasn't paid it yet! The guys from the connection are pretty smart in their own way, but they are also not squeamish when it comes to collecting debts. Actually, he only wants to borrow the money a little, he will pay it back somehow sometime, he thinks, although he is actually a realist.

Tim drives the car into a garage. The Benz stays there to be unloaded and Tim gets into his private BMW. He drives to the bank and meets Brad with the money. They go together to a big travel agency, buy a first class one-way ticket for the next plane to Thailand, and Brad can fly to Bangkok on Swiss Air at 7: 10 pm.

There is just enough time to hire a local "American broker" he knows to transfer most of the money to a bank in Thailand for a handsome fee.

When he finally sits alone on the plane, Brad knows that the last phase of his life has now begun and that he will no longer need a return flight.

2

Jan finishes his tea and tries to sleep. Two am. Outside it is pitch black. New moon!

His Thai girlfriend Sai Chai has been away for fourteen days now, sorting out financial matters with her ex-husband. He rolls from side to side, gets up, goes for a pee and lies down again. As soon as he closes his eyes, he starts dreaming wildly. A lemur appears in front of him with one eye torn out. An owl flies away with the eye. The one-eyed lemur shimmies through clouds of steam along the facades of houses, big houses, could be Bangkok. From the TukTuk Jan is in, speeding down Silom Road. He sees the lemur clinging to the twisted electric poles, waving at him. Jan asks the driver not to speed like that, but he thinks nothing of it, turning to him as he drives and saying with a grin:

"We have to get him after all!"

Jan is shocked by the sight of the driver's figure. Evil, from the grin he could be the devil himself. His eyes lie in two blood-red sockets, like two glowing coals with relatively large fleshy lids and bushy eyelashes in which blood-sucking insects cavort. Two bluish rings of fire rotate around the creepy eyeballs. Tiny half-naked women crowd the lids as if on a precipice. There is not enough room for all of them, especially as new ones keep arriving. When they can't hold on any longer, they fall down. Then it looks as if he is crying little women. They tumble down and burst like tears on the floor of the TukTuk. No one hears their silent cries as they do so. You only see their little mouths open wide to scream and their necks swell. In the diffuse light on the ground is a large puddle of tears.

The TukTuk driver shouts at him to look up and not to let the lemur out of his sight, otherwise he runs the risk of becoming a victim.

What kind of victim? His perhaps? When Jan lifts his gaze, he sees the lemur, by now considerably larger, hurrying away with huge leaps. At full throttle, the driver takes up the pursuit - like a man possessed. He chases him mercilessly through a tangle of cables and telephone poles.

A long trail of blood shows him the way. They reach the injured animal. At that moment, the lemur rises. The driver accelerates, but the tuk tuk no longer accelerates, it even brakes and comes to a halt directly in front of the lemur, which is now no longer bleeding. The lemur turns its head towards Jan, running its hand through the socket of its lost eye, directly into the head, while climbing into the TukTuk and sitting opposite Jan. Motionless, the driver stares ahead, petrified, until he grabs a green bottle from the front shelf and pries the crown cap off the neck of the bottle with his canines. The sound of this makes Jan shudder.

He knows this sound, but in this context it sounds false, like a scam - frighteningly alien. Shocked, Jan sees the lemur's hand holding something, something that looks like a small human being, which he now places in his lap. Jan feels sick as a dog. He recognises himself. Jan is this little human being!

"Come closer, look into my heart,” the lemur invites him, speaking in his girlfriend's voice. Jan follows him and bends far forward to be able to see deep inside. And he sees a small person again, but he cannot recognise him. As he tries to reach for him, he dissolves, melts like ice, and with him the lemur. The dripping liquid mixes with the puddle of tears on the floor. Jan hears shouts faintly coming from the melting lemur's mouth to his ear.

"Jan! Jaaaan"!

Jan just sees the melting shapes before everything transforms, and the whole scene begins to spin. It is a carousel of images, a fairground of emotions, an arena where heart and head confront each other. A shuddering elegy wails from the ripped mouth of the driver. Tiny women tumble out of his eye sockets by the dozen, bursting in the ever-growing puddle of tears. Jan thinks he is drowning, but then he feels helping hands holding him. He clearly feels himself being stroked, someone calling his name.

He opens his eyes. There is indeed Sai Chai sitting at his bedside. She has placed one hand behind his neck, with the other she is wiping the sweat from his upper body with a cloth.

"You were dreaming, darling. I've been trying to get you awake for a while."

"Sai Chai! I'm so glad you're here!" Jan looks at her and his heart moves like a landslide. It hammers in his still sleeping body as if a mountain stream is rushing through. Joy of life flows - more with every second he looks at her. The sadness, the bloodlessness give way to living warmth, and his tiredness evaporates like stale air when you open the window.

"When did you come?" asks Jan, still slightly dazed by his confused dream.

"Just now, maybe five minutes ago." She crawls into bed with Jan and starts kissing him and pulling her clothes off. She literally rips them off and fires them across the cabin. Jan helps her. They are both so hungry for each other. They have had to do without each other for so long, that there is no time for many words except those that serve their momentary lust. With their lips sucked tightly together, they roll catlike from one side of the bed to the other. The pulse of passion sets a sharp rhythm for them, and a surge of immediate happiness floods Jan as he penetrates. The intervals of Sai Chai's little pointed cries of pleasure between thrusts become the metre of their unrestrained abandon. She bites Jan's breast, gently at first, then harder and harder. Jan slaps her buttocks with the flat of his hand as if they were asking each other to hurt each other. Unaccustomed but electrifying, he feels her spirited bite on his neck. The spot reddens immediately. Lithely, Sai Chai wriggles out of his embrace and licks her lips before rolling up to him again and kissing the red spot on his neck. Intrigued by her sensual aggressiveness, Jan wraps his hands around Sai Chai's slender neck and very lightly caresses her throat with his thumb. Sai Chai fixes him with wide open eyes while her hand searches for his pulsating penis and applies light pressure there as well. Trembling, he pulls her head close to his face. He purses his mouth kissing her on the tip of her nose and she breathes with her eyes closed:

"Kill me!"

As she does so, she runs the tip of her tongue over the lower edge of her upper incisors, her mouth half open. Jan sees how lust draws her face more and more beautiful and wild and the approaching orgasm turns her insides out. Minutes pass before she opens her eyes and smiles. Their bodies are now entwined and remain in a still position for a long time. They no longer speak, they tremble, but both their desires soon allow them to dive once more into the beloved flesh, into the zone of ever more violent dissolution, into the zone where only a diffuse border remains between life and death. There they are enraptured from the world until, after hours, they fall asleep, happy and exhausted.

They sleep until noon, until the sun is almost at its zenith, then a powerful appetite drives them out of bed. As usual, they have breakfast on the terrace of their bungalow.

It is to be their last breakfast together, but they don't know that yet.

It is only over breakfast that they talk about Sai Chai's trip and what came out of it.

"He was with me at the bank, my divorced husband. I withdrew everything and deposited it in my account. It took me a lot of strength and persuasion to convince him to release the account to me."

"But after all, it's your money he's been trying to block, your dear ex-husband!", Jan gets indignant.

"You're right, but you don't know him. He is a person who likes to control everything and everyone, a total macho man. I wonder how I ever married such an asshole."

"It's over," Jan reassures her. "You got rid of that guy and got your money. Everything's going to be all right now, isn't it?"

"Yeah, maybe everything will be fine." Sai Chai stands up, she walks a few steps, sits down again and asks a question she has asked Jan many times, and which Jan is afraid of:

"Will you marry me?"

Jan shrugs his shoulders imperceptibly. He has always dodged and owed her the answer. Today, too, he does not answer. He would prefer to just say yes now and everything would be fine. Maybe, but he cannot bring himself to say it. This time he doesn't take refuge in a later, because he feels that she won't respond to him. His doubts keep him silent - he looks helplessly into her eyes. Sai Chai smiles almost pityingly until he lowers his eyes because he cannot withstand the superiority of her smile. His gaze wanders over the dining table, frantically searching for purchase, an answer, as if it were hidden somewhere on the table. But apart from a bite of toast, bowls of fruit and a few plates that have been eaten, there is nothing there.

The floor slips from under Sai Chai's feet, her knees go weak, but she doesn't let on. Jan remains silent. Sai Chai does not feel like smiling now, but she does, because that is what Thais do, they smile in particularly sad situations. It is a different smile, one that reflects despair.

Nevertheless, Sai Chai asks Jan for the last time today.

She receives no answer again. She has hoped for it so much. She has wished for it so much.

As Sai Chai turns her head, turning away from Jan as she stands up, she does not want to let him see the tears. With three big steps she is in the bungalow and closes the door. Jan hears her crying, but he cannot comfort her. He is the reason she is crying. A terrible feeling comes over him. He feels guilty. - But guilty for what? He never promised her marriage, never lied to her, never fooled her. Not only is he tormented by horror at the way the last twenty minutes have gone, he can clearly hear the bells ringing in the storm, heralding the end of their relationship, and he also feels like an idiot. A selfish, irresponsible idiot, maybe he really is. Now they have arrived at exactly what they were both afraid of. Until the last moment they hoped it wouldn't come to this, but it's happening now. Still, somehow incomprehensible. Sai Chai believed in love much more than Jan, who, because of his doubts, helped to bring about the end in this form. In principle, Jan knew from the beginning that he would not marry Sai Chai. Not so soon in any case. But Jan carried this thought so far down, hid it so much that he could hardly perceive it himself. So far, he is to blame to a certain extent. One can also lie by saying nothing. At that moment the door opens and Sai Chai steps out onto the veranda with her packed travel bag. She has stopped crying, but her otherwise pretty face bears the marks of disappointment. Her eyes show sadness as in the loss of a loved one who has simply died.

When Jan sees her standing there like that, tears spring to his eyes. Tears that he does not even try to hide because tears are the most honest thing he can say at the moment.

With terse words, Sai Chai explains to Jan, that she will now leave and that Jan should not wait for her. When Jan asks where she is going, she replies:

"You are welcome to carry the bag for me and drive me to Nai Harn on your motorbike. There I'll take the pick-up and be at the bus station in an hour." Sai Chai makes a clean break. What more is there to say? Both are very unhappy about the end of their story together, they don't need many words. They loved each other dearly, they still do, and they will suffer from their separation for a long time. They are unspokenly agreed on that.

Jan walks silently half a metre behind Sai Chai until they reach his motorbike.

Before they get on, Sai Chai hugs Jan tightly and tells him, "I know you love me."

Then she gets on the motorbike. Jan is speechless, looking at her as she waits on the pillion ready to leave. He joins her and rides off in silence. They don't speak a word as they drive slowly to Nai Harn Beach. The pick-up had just left when they arrive at the stop. Jan follows it a little way and Sai Chai waves to the driver, who also stops immediately.She jumps onto the platform and finds a seat on the bench between an old mother with many baskets and bags and a couple of young people in school uniforms who are amused by Jan carrying the bag behind Sai Chai with teary eyes. As soon as Sai Chai is seated, the driver drives off again slowly. Although the car is full, a passenger might still turn up, perhaps on the running board. Jan walks a little way alongside and holds Sai Chai's hand. "Goodbye Jan," she says to him quietly.

The schoolchildren are smirking and Jan feels as if the ground is slipping from under his feet, in a pressed voice he says to her, "I'll look for you all over the world!"

"But you won't find me!" she returns, giving him her best smile one last time before the driver accelerates and the unhappy lovers are finally separated. Jan stops and waves. Sai Chai sticks her head out of the side of the vehicle. She still has her smile on her face, but it fades as the distance increases. The last image of her is burned into Jan's memory, and he knows that when he thinks of Sai Chai later, she will always wear that smile that once so enchanted him.

3

The fog in Amsterdam has lifted. You can see something again. Nevertheless, it remains wet and cold and the ultra-fine drizzle creeps through all the clothes into the body, creating a sickening feeling. Longing, hopelessness and above all the burning desire to escape these inhospitable latitudes as quickly as possible.

Morten, who had to push his bike because of the thick fog, gets back on and cycles down the large canal to the Rembrandt Dam with his neck craned.

It is around four in the afternoon, and through the falling dusk the light from Mona's second-floor window shimmers onto the wet street, almost unreal, ghostly. As if there is something else eerie between Morten and the kitchen window.

In any case, she seems to be there.

Morten hurries up the stairs, rings the bell twice briefly, once long. Nothing! Again, two short rings, one long. Again nothing! He puts his ear to the door, thinking he hears noises coming from the flat. Indeed, it sounds like a shuffling, as if someone is dragging something across the floor. Yes, now he hears it quite clearly. Someone is dragging something across the floor with a groan, Morten holds his breath and tries to make out something through the keyhole, but there's not much to see. But it is getting closer. The sound gets louder. A bad premonition rises in him. He literally presses his eye into the keyhole. His whole body shakes and his trembling hands press against the door as hard as if he wanted to break through. Then a hand slips into the tiny section of the hallway floor he can spy through the keyhole. A head follows, accompanied by pitiful moans and groans. Mona's head, and despite the miserable vision Morten can clearly see the trail of blood it leaves behind.

"Mona, you are hurt? What happened? Open up, Mona! It's me - Morten! Open the door, please!" In his excitement, Morten bangs his fists against the flat door, but nothing moves. He holds his breath again and listens intently into the flat. Silence- nothing- not a sound. Mona does not move. She lies in front of the flat door and no longer reacts. Is she dying? Morten is beside himself. Images from his childhood suddenly appear in his thoughts, which are confused. Flashbacks replaying experiences, a slippery bank in the rain-soaked reeds. He reaches for the small hand that sticks out of the greenish water like a naked spar, but cannot reach it. He sees the head of a child emerging once more, turns towards him, raises its arms in the water and then sinks without a call, its eyes wide open, staring at him in complete bewilderment, its mouth open. Thunderstruck, he stands on the shore and stares at the spot where his best friend has just sunk. A cry explodes in his throat: "Brad!", and he jumps - jumps into the green Ijsselmeer to save his friend - or to go down with him.

"Mona!", he runs. Three steps of a running start and then with the full force of his accelerated body he crashes into the door, which comes crashing out of its filling with a loud thud and splits in two across the corridor. One half lands on the motionless body of Sharira and the other, still stuck in the frame with a rod, stretches upwards at an angle like the cautionary equivalent of ground zero.

Lights come on in the top floor stairway. An elderly lady, judging by the voice, calls out anxiously, "Hello! Is anyone there?"

Tense listening and again: "Hello, hello!" - Another long pause, then the stairway lights switches off, a door is pulled into the lock, locked twice, and it becomes quiet again in the hallway.

My God if she wasn't dead yet she is now at the latest.

He lifts the heavy wooden door from the motionless body and hears a soft whimper.

Mona, you're okey!"

Mona's eyes are wide open and she looks at Morten with the look of a shot antelope, half fearful, half pleading for help.

"It's me, Morten, stay calm! I came to check on you.