by Karin Fossum
"I know it's silly," she said suddenly. "But it's so hard for me to comprehend."
"That Errki's dead?"
"No. That he could have killed Halldis."
He sat with his hands in his lap, twisting and turning them, and said awkwardly, "There was something you said, earlier today. That sometimes, once in a great while, things happen which we can not possibly explain."
She shrugged. "I refuse to give up."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm going to have to search for an explanation. Find out how it happened."
"Where will you search?"
"In my papers. In my memory. For what he said, and all the things that he didn't say. I simply have to understand."
"Will you let me know what you find?"
At last she looked up and smiled. "Could you see me in?" she asked.
He was puzzled by her request but obediently he escorted her to the door, and watched as she put her key in the lock after first giving a brief tap on the doorbell. Maybe it was a signal to Gerhard that she was home. Sejer didn't want to meet her husband. If he saw him, his fantasies about their relationship would become all too real. Her home was a single-storey terrace bungalow with extra-wide doors, equipped for a disabled person. They were standing in the door of the living room. Sejer thought of a book he had read when he was young. The main character, who was deeply in love, escorted a woman home. He had lost his heart to her and thought that she lived alone. On the way, she told him that Johnny was waiting for her. At that instant, his heart broke. And then as they were standing in the living room, he understood that Johnny was a hamster.
Gerhard Struel was sitting at a desk, reading, wearing a knitted jacket in spite of the heat. The man was actually older than Sejer. He was bald, and his dark eyes were framed by glasses. On the floor next to him lay an Alsatian. The dog raised his head and stared.
"Papa," Sara said. "This is Chief Inspector Konrad Sejer."
Gerhard Struel was not a hamster. He was a father!
Sejer tried to pull himself together as he clasped the outstretched hand. Why did she want him to see this? The house. The father who needed care. Perhaps she was saying, "Take me away from all this!"
"I must get home to my dog," he said.
"Oh, I'm sorry," she said, fumbling with her jacket. "I didn't mean to take up your time."
Gerhard Struel gave Sejer a long look. "So it's over, then?"
Yes, he thought, it's over. Even before it started. I can't make a move now. It's not right. He had landed himself in that awkward situation where he would be forced to pick up the phone and call her if he wanted to see her again. She had made the first move. Now it was his turn.
Sara held out her hand. "We made an excellent team, don't you think?"
She had planted a seed. Maybe it would grow. An excellent team.
He found her name in his name book. Sara. It meant "princess".
Later he lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, carrying on an imaginary conversation with her.
I knew you would turn up. I've been waiting for you.
Tell me something about yourself, she said with a smile.
What do you want to know?
A childhood memory. Something beautiful.
Here's something beautiful: the summer I turned five, my father took me to the cathedral in Roskilde. I had no idea what was inside. I left the warm sunlight outside and stood on the stone floor. The church was filled with coffins. Father explained that people lay inside them, all of the ministers who had worked at that church. They lay there in full view, for everyone to see, row after row, on either side of the pews. The coffins were made of marble and they were unbelievably beautiful. It was cold in the church, and I was freezing. I started tugging at my father's hand to make him take me out again. Eventually he took pity on me. "They're sleeping the eternal sleep," he said with a smile. "While the two of us have to go home and work in the garden, even though it's so hot! I have to mow the grass, and you have some weeding to do."
I couldn't stop thinking about the sight of all those coffins, until my mother came out to the garden and brought us strawberry pudding. It was chilled from being in the cellar, but the cream was warm. I ate the pudding and thought that it simply couldn't be true. There wasn't anything inside those coffins, just cobwebs and dust. And the pudding tasted so wonderful it seemed impossible that life wouldn't last for ever. I looked at the blue sky and there above us what do I see but a flock of angels with white wings hovering overhead. I thought they had come to get us, but we hadn't even finished our pudding! Father saw them too. He smiled happily. "Look, Konrad! Look how fine they are!"
There were 15 parachute jumpers from the national guard, and they landed on the football field nearby. I will never forget how beautiful they were, how silently they drifted down.
Sejer lay awake for a long time. He was beyond tired now, but his eyes seemed to be lit from within. They were wide open, staring into the dark. He tossed and turned, and every time he moved, Kollberg's ears pricked up. It was much too hot to sleep. He started scratching. Resigned, he climbed out of bed, got dressed, and went into the living room. Kollberg padded after him. Did he really want someone so close? Beside him in bed in the morning, every morning, year after year? What would Kollberg say? And two male dogs, that wasn't going to work.
"Want to go out?" he whispered. The dog barked and trotted to the door. It was 2 a.m. The block of flats was like a lonely pillar in the starless sky.
At first he thought of going into town, to the cemetery, but he changed his mind. He couldn't believe that he felt guilty. He'd read about this happening, and he didn't know how he was going to deal with it. Maybe I should move, he thought. Get a new car. Draw a line: before Elise and after Elise. I can't cope otherwise. It seems that there is an obstacle in my path.
He was in his shirtsleeves. The night air against his bare arms soothed the itching. He walked and walked, just as Errki had walked and walked.
If you're going to remain in this world, you have to live life, he decided. He turned around and looked back at his block of flats. There was something about the structure, the heavy pillar of grey cement with its muted lighting, that seemed to evoke human anxiety. I have to get away from here, he thought, I want to be on the ground. Stand in grass and have trees around me.
"Shall we move, Kollberg? Out to the country?"
The dog's eyes gazed up at him.
"You don't know what I'm saying, do you? You live in another world. And yet we get along so well. Even though you're a dunce."
Kollberg sniffed happily at his hand. He put his hand in the pocket of his khaki trousers and took out a long-forgotten dog biscuit. Kollberg didn't know why he was getting a reward, but he gobbled it up and wagged his tail enthusiastically.
"The worst thing is that I'll never know why," he murmured. "What really happened between them? What did Halldis say or do to frighten him? Both of them are dead now, and we'll never know. But we don't know anything about most things in the world. How strange that we accept that fact. As if we were waiting, all our lives, for something further in the future, something totally different that will be comprehensible. But you, you dunce," he looked down at the dog, "you're just waiting for your next meal."
He turned and walked home.
He turned his back on the cemetery. He felt an ache deep inside.
*
Skarre looked cheerful. Showered and tanned.
"What's going on?" Sejer stared at him.
"Nothing. Just feeling good, that's all."
"I see," he said. "Have you heard from the laboratory? Did they get a match on the fingerprints?"
"Errki's prints were everywhere inside the house. He even touched the mirror. The prints on the hoe are more problematic, but they're working on them."
"Did you write up the interrogation last night?"
"Here you go, boss." He handed Sejer some documents in a plastic folder and bit his lip. "What's going to happen to the boy?"
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"Not much. Morgan confirmed that it was an accident. Most likely he'll get to stay at Guttebakken, and by all accounts that seems the best solution. God knows, he's been through enough lately. What he needs is some peace, not to be moved again. I'm going out to see him now. He's probably not in very good shape, but I have this tiny hope that he might have found out something about Errki that Morgan missed. Maybe he can offer some explanation."
Skarre gave him a long look. "Is that likely? He's just a boy who's terrified out of his wits."
"Children are observant," Sejer said stubbornly.
"Not really. They just notice different things from grown-ups."
"And that could be useful to us."
Skarre frowned. "You've got something going, haven't you?"
"What do you mean?"
"It seems as though you can't accept what happened. And that's not like you."
"I'm curious that's all," Sejer said.
"You look tired."
"I was itching all over last night!" And with that startling piece of information, Sejer disappeared into his office.
"Your name is Morten Garpe?"
"That's right."
"But you call yourself Morgan?"
"My friends, if I had any, would call me Morgan."
"You don't have any friends? So why do you call yourself Morgan?"
"It sounds a lot cooler, don't you think?"
Skarre's notes failed to mention that at this point they both laughed.
"So, Morten, you're all alone in the world, is that it?"
"I'm short on buddies. I have only one, and he's in prison. Plus a sister in Oslo."
"He's in prison?"
"For armed robbery. I drove the getaway car. He didn't tell the police about me. The money was for him."
"So he's had his hooks into you for a long time, is that right?"
"Yes."
"And you wanted to put an end to it?"
"I suppose I'm going to get such a long sentence that it doesn't matter any more."
"You're right. It doesn't. We'll talk about the robbery later. Tell me about Errki."
Skarre indicated that Morgan paused for a long time before he spoke.
"He told me everything about his mother and what happened to her. Errki and I are both Scorpios. He was born a week after me. The best and the worst people are Scorpios, did you know that?"
"No. What do you mean by telling you everything?"
Sejer lifted his eyes from the report and thought about the experts who for years, and with great cunning, had tried to coax the truth out of Errki. This man seemed to have succeeded in a matter of hours.
"Did he seem to remember anything about the murder of Halldis Horn?"
"Not much. He said that she screamed and threatened him. He had a faraway look in his eyes when he thought about it."
"Did he tell you that he killed her? Did he say that in so many words?"
"No. He looked at me with those strange eyes of his and said, 'Things just happen.'"
"Did he seem like a violent person?"
"You saw my nose. It's going to look really pretty when it grows back. Not that it makes any difference. Frankly I don't care. The only thing that makes me happy is the thought of Tommy's ugly mug when I bang on the wall from my cell next door, and he realises there isn't going to be any money."
"His name is Tommy?"
"Tommy Rein."
"Is that so! What did you and Errki talk about during the hours you spent together?"
"I can't really remember it all. He said so many weird things. We talked a lot about death. Have you thought about that? That we're actually going to die? I see people dying around me, but I can't comprehend that it's ever going to happen to me. I tried to imagine it today, several times. But it's like some trick mathematical equation that I just can't get into my head. Do you get it?"
"Get what?"
"The fact that you're going to die?"
"Yes, I do."
"Then I suppose there's something wrong with me."
"Don't worry, it will sink in sooner or later. I know lots of people older than you who haven't faced up to it yet. Where did Errki get the gun?"
"I asked him about that. He muttered something strange, like if your neighbour wishes for a cow, God will send you an ox."
"How drunk was he towards the end?"
"Not nearly as drunk as I was, but he was really unsteady on his feet."
"What did Errki and Kannick say to each other?"
"Not much of anything. They were watching each other like dogs. Kannick was scared out of his wits. He hardly dared look at Errki."
"Did Errki seem threatening towards the boy?"
"I wouldn't say so. We treated him well, we didn't harm him in any way, we were just drunk. By the time Kannick showed up, the seas were high, to use a figure of speech. The strange thing was that after a while it seemed as though the boy rather enjoyed being there. He settled down. In some way, we belonged together, the three of us. Nobody felt like doing anything. We were just waiting for you."
"What was Kannick's reaction when you discovered that Errki was dead?"
"He panicked. Begged and pleaded with me to help him."
"Help him do what?"
"Convince you that it was an accident."
"Was it an accident?"
"Definitely. He was aiming at the door. He didn't know that we were inside, or that Errki was going to open the door at that very moment."
"I see. What else?"
"What do you mean?"
"Did he make any suggestions about running away or trying to hide the body?"
"No, no. Absolutely not. I persuaded him not to."
"So he did suggest something like that?"
"Eh, no, not really. He didn't know what he was saying. He was in a state of panic. And that's not so strange, is it? Lucky for him that he's only twelve and still a minor."
CHAPTER 22
Sejer sank behind the wheel and slammed the door shut. Even though he had not slept well, he suddenly felt inexplicably clear-headed. He had a strong feeling that this was a decisive moment. He could definitely feel it. Time stood still. He stared out of the car window, trying to find something outside that would explain this sensation. He felt petrified, couldn't move. It wasn't unpleasant, just odd. He looked at his hands on the steering wheel. At every single hair on the back of his hands, at the fine lines across his knuckles. At the white fingernails, clean and even. At his watch and the little gold crown on the watch face. He met his own eyes in the rear-view mirror. His face looked older than he remembered, but tremendously alert. The honking of a horn roused him. He put the car in gear and drove across the square, past the rows of parked cars.
The boy was standing up straight, his left foot pointed out, his right foot pointed forward. He raised his head and lifted his chin. His arms hung loosely at his sides. He took a long, deep breath, and then slowly exhaled. He turned his head to the left, cautiously, almost surreptitiously. Not hurried, but gentle, very gentle. He squinted and looked at the gold circle 30 metres away, noting how it grew sharper. Again he took a breath, a deep one, and held it. His enormous chest expanded, and at the same moment he raised the bow to eye level. He drew, anchored, and took aim. Saw the little red dot touch the bottom edge of the target. He wanted a ten right now. He was good enough to do it, at those perfect moments when everything clicked. The arrow flew from the bow. The string thrummed and then, in a gesture that was as elegant as it was practised, he lowered the bow just as the arrow plunged into the bull's-eye with a sharp thwack. He expelled the rest of the air from his lungs and felt in his quiver for another arrow without moving his eyes, without shifting his feet. Nocked the arrow into the string. He wanted three tens. If he was lucky, the second arrow would land next to the first one with a clattering sound. He inhaled and closed his eyes. Then he opened them and stared at the target and the red feathers of the first arrow that were visible in the centre of the gold circle.
; He heard a noise, but tried to ignore it. A good archer doesn't allow any distractions, he continues without losing concentration. The noise got louder and stronger. He didn't like it. He wanted to complete the series of three arrows. It was a car. Arrow number two flew from the string. Eight points. He grunted with annoyance and turned his head. A police car drove into the courtyard.
Kannick lowered his bow and stood motionless. It was Sejer. He probably had just come to say hello, to ask him how he was doing, and whether he had slept OK. He was nice. Nothing to be scared of. Kannick smiled.
"Good morning, Kannick."
Sejer was not smiling. He looked very serious. Not friendly, like last time, but as if he were worried about something. He turned to look at the target.
"You got a ten," he said.
"Yes," said Kannick proudly.
"Is that hard?" He gave the shiny bow an inquisitive look, without changing his expression.
"Yes, it's hard. I've been working at it for over a year. I would have got another ten, but you arrived and distracted me."
"I beg your pardon." Sejer looked the boy in the eye with a grave expression. "We took your bow away from you. Yet here you are, practising. How do you explain that?"
Kannick looked at the ground. "It's Christian's. He let me borrow it."
"But I thought you weren't allowed to shoot without supervision?"
"Margunn is just in the bathroom. I have to practise for the national championships," he said.
"I realise that, but I'm still going to have to talk to Margunn." Sejer nodded, first towards the building and then towards the target with its bull's-eye made of reinforced cardboard. This was the boy's only passion, and here he was about to take it away from him. He hated this. At the same time, something was ticking inside him, like a bomb just before it explodes. He felt his heart beating faster. It might not mean anything, but then again it might mean everything, this tiny detail that he saw. He tried to control himself.
"But I can shoot out here in the open, can't I?" Kannick said, his voice both pleading and sulky. "Just not up in the woods, right? If I'm going to have a chance at the championship, I've got to train every day until the last minute."
