by Karin Fossum
She jutted her chin out.
‘I am a level-headed person,’ she said. ‘And I have no idea what you’re getting at.’
‘You closed yourself in more and more. You locked all the doors and found a dark corner where no one could reach you. But Bennet managed to get in, nonetheless, all the way into your kitchen. It’s fine to be in a cell, you can cope there. No one can get to you, no one asks you to come out, and there aren’t too many impressions. And in that situation, you seem to be perfectly well.’
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake –’ she looked at him with indignation – ‘that’s ridiculous!’
‘We have to talk about this, Ragna. And for your own sake, it would be better if you helped us, rather than withdrew. I have tried at all times to follow you and to understand your thoughts and actions, and why you acted in the way you did. We are going to have to go down this path, and if I can’t get you on board, we’ll draw our own conclusions without you. Is that what you want?’
‘Draw conclusions?’
She filled her lungs with so much air and was so fierce in her defence that he could not help but think of a pufferfish, the kind with poisonous spines. This little woman was a force to be reckoned with, after all, but he continued.
‘Does it frighten you?’ he asked. ‘The idea that you might be ill?’
‘I’m just saying it’s wrong.’
‘I can show you what we’ve found,’ he said.
‘I’ve answered your questions,’ she whispered. ‘I did what I did for obvious reasons, which I’ve talked about at length. For days, in fact. So I think we can agree that I’ve lived in fear and desperation all autumn. And that I spun a web to catch the intruder. And when a fly flew into the net and got stuck, and shook the whole fragile construction, I thought it was a poisonous wasp and stamped on it. There is no need for you to try and find another angle all of a sudden, what is the point of that?’
‘Everything has to be correct,’ Sejer said. ‘That’s the way our system works.’
‘I have never, in my life, explained myself as carefully, and in as much detail, and with as much honesty, as I have in my conversations with you,’ she snapped. ‘And still you’re not satisfied.’
He searched for the right words. What had he expected? That she would turn to him, innocent as a child, and whisper, oh, is that what’s wrong with me? I didn’t know, but that explains everything.
‘At some point in the future,’ Sejer said, ‘you will look back at everything that has happened. And you will be able to see it with an objectivity that is not possible today. Your experience will stay with you for the rest of your life. Now think carefully, are you willing to live with a lie?’
‘But I’m not lying! My intention all along has been to tell the truth.’
‘You have chosen the version that you can live with,’ Sejer said, ‘and that is perfectly understandable, that is how we are made.’
‘Then you’re living with a lie too,’ she said.
‘Yes,’ he admitted. ‘But I have not been accused of murder.’
Whatever it was that was growing in Ragna’s head was not a tumour. The thin, viscous branches that were spreading across her brain tissue could perhaps be treated with poison, or preferably a scalpel. This intruder was of a different nature. A misconception. Perhaps it had always been there, like a seed from her father. And it grew and it grew. An enemy had invaded her life. The enemy had watched her and terrorised her for a long time, robbed her of her sleep and of her senses, made her come undone. Ravaged her body and camped outside her house. Ragna had looked for him everywhere, she had looked for signs, and she had found them.
Sejer was crossing the pedestrian bridge over the river; he stopped halfway and stared down at the swirling current. Frank spotted a puppy and scrambled desperately to get closer, but Sejer held him back, and then walked swiftly on. Ragna Riegel filled his head and heart. They had possibly just had their last candid conversation. He had destroyed her trust in him by intimating that he doubted her reality. Like her illness, he had invaded her and confronted her. There was not really anything worse you could say to a person. She had refused to talk any more, and that was her right. Everything he had seen and heard throughout his working life ran through his head. The ones who made excuses, the ones who denied the crime, the ones who could not remember. The angry, the damaged and intoxicated, the mean and brutal and dull, the cynical and the less bright, the indifferent and the cowardly, the ones who blamed others, and there were plenty of those. Ragna was none of them. With her disability and history, she was both unique and vulnerable. The enemy had managed to get into her kitchen and press her into a corner. She had defended herself. To be on the safe side. Because she knew that finally someone would listen.
Sejer and Frank walked along the promenade to the main square. He thought about justice; there was not much of it in the world, and there was no order, no plan, no purpose. No reward in heaven, no green pastures. Just a swarming mass, where a few were granted happiness, but most were not. The believers prayed to God, and sometimes were heard, but more often they were not. Very few questions had clear answers, and as for the truth, well, it could be stretched like a rubber band. Ragna Riegel had attracted an enemy because for years she had lived in fear of having an enemy. Because she carried a heavy burden. Because she had a disability. Because she had seen her father sleep with the lights on and press his meagre body close to the wall. Because the authorities had been on their backs for years. Her father chose death. Because to him it seemed a safer place. And he was probably right.
They came to the square, with a thousand small lights in the chestnut trees, shining like diamonds. Everyone talks about the light, he thought, that’s where they long to be, that’s what they dream of. But some want to be in the dark, to remain unseen – that is where they feel safe. And yet, because they are not seen, they fall apart, they fall into their own trap, as it were. He heard music from somewhere in the distance, it sounded like sleigh bells, and he realised it would be Christmas in a few days’ time. He crossed the main bridge over to the south side of the river and walked all the way back to the station, with the river on his right now. He felt the icy wind on his cheeks as he passed the fire station, a northerly wind, sharp as a knife. It cut him to the bone and his face felt stiff and tight, and if anyone had seen him at close quarters, they would have thought he was a bitter man. He walked faster, they still had a lot to get through, if she wanted to continue at all. As he walked he mused on his own fate. He should have chosen another role in life, the role of defender. Instead, he was the one who held people accountable, who pushed and prodded and confronted. To make them confess, give evidence and repent. How different his life would have been if he had spent his days in court, thundering with clenched fists, as he fought like a lion to prove that his client, who was guilty, had had no alternative. That was what he wanted to do now. To stand up for Ragna Riegel. To be that lion. But I have never been a judge, Sejer thought, and I never will be. I understand people too well. Or, it occurred to him, I’m too much of a coward.
He shivered and walked, shivered and walked, his eyes trained on the icy pavement.
Chapter 31
Dear Rikard Josef,
Here I sit by the cell window and think of you. And about myself as well. How far do you think words can lead us? Can they bring us together again, will we meet again? I am not asking for much. But if I neglected you and did not give you what you needed, and in that way drove you from home, I ask for your forgiveness a thousand times over. I beg on my knees, because I am truly on my knees now. And if you cannot forgive me, that too I will bear, because I had not expected you to make contact at all. But you should know that I will never judge you, I just want to understand, in the same way that I hope to be understood. Everyone has their reasons, their motives and despair. All this talk of people having a choice. What does it mean? Does it mean that every person, in every society and in every situation, truly has a choice? And that they c
an make the right choice? Would it not be easy then to navigate the legal system? Would it not be easy to pass judgement and hand out punishment? Why then does the concept ‘extenuating circumstances’ exist at all, which allows for certain crimes to be judged differently or even dismissed? Does that not amount to an admission that many people do not have a choice?
If this is the life I am to have, this cell with its narrow bed, and a small desk by the window, then I will accept it without complaint. It is still light in the morning and dark in the evening. I fill my lungs with air, and my heart, which is also good, continues to beat. This is a life, too. But I am not making any plans, do not want to think ahead. It is the curse of mankind that we live our whole lives in fear. Of what might happen, tomorrow or next year. Or we live in fear of old sins, a mongrel that snaps at our heels, and that sooner or later will catch up with us. Instead of walking out of the house when the sun is high, lifting our faces and feeling its warmth on our cheeks. Your grandfather often did that. And it gave him pleasure enough for one day. I have always been content with little. When you came into the world, you were a treasure I never dreamt I would have, which is why I held you so tight, and carried you in my arms. I often stood at the window watching you, when you sat on the lawn playing, or in the snow with your pompom hat on, and snot running out of your nose. I kept an eye on all the cars that drove past, to see if any of them slowed down – I studied everyone who walked down the road. And if they looked at you for too long, or stopped to say a few words, if you were making a nice snowman for instance, I would come rushing out. And I would stare hard at them to demonstrate that you were mine and that I was responsible for you. That is probably why you had to cut free in the end.
Perhaps I got what I deserved.
What can I say in my defence? If you never have your own children, you will never be able to understand how hard it is to do everything right. I hope with all my heart that your days pass well. And the hours, and minutes, and all the dark nights.
Mummy
Chapter 32
To Sejer’s surprise, Ragna wanted to continue. But she did not talk in the same focused way as before – she was more on her guard and watched him with keen eyes. She knew that something unpleasant was coming and she was steeling herself. In the end, she chose to beat him to it.
‘I know what you’re going to say,’ she whispered. ‘So just say it.’
Sejer weighed his words, as he always did with people who had been hurt.
‘After all that we’ve talked about, after all this time, do you still think it was Bennet who sent you the anonymous threats?’
‘Is it so strange that I came to that conclusion?’
She saw the compassion in the inspector’s eyes.
‘You came to that conclusion when he was sitting in your kitchen. I am asking what you think now.’
‘He said I was going to die,’ was her prompt response.
‘But have you, even tentatively, ever thought that perhaps you attacked the wrong man?’
She looked at him with scepticism.
‘Are you going to tell me that you’ve found some brat who went from mailbox to mailbox, and half the town received the same threats? I don’t believe you.’
‘That’s not the story I was going to tell,’ he said. ‘No, that’s not what we’ve found. No one else has reported receiving threats, like you. But before you got that first letter in your mailbox, had anything happened? Something difficult that might have triggered the whole thing?’
‘Are you saying that it’s my fault?’
Again, he gave her a sympathetic look.
‘I was fine,’ she said. ‘Everything was fine and normal. I like working in the shop, I like putting nail brushes from Taiwan neatly on the shelves, with the right price. Sometimes I build small pyramids for fun. The others laugh at me when I do that, I know it’s childish. I like sitting at the till as well, as I don’t need to speak. No one notices me, they leave me in peace.’
‘Would you have liked someone to notice you?’
She looked insulted, and did not answer.
‘Would you have liked to be noticed in the way that Walther Eriksson noticed you? To be seen in that way?’
Her cheeks were red now.
‘Yes and no.’
‘But it happened, all the same,’ Sejer said. ‘You got a message. Someone had seen you.’
‘Lots of messages.’
‘But you didn’t keep them,’ he said. ‘You can never take them out and read them again. I will never be able to read them either, and they can’t be used in court as evidence of the reign of terror you say you went through.’
‘I say I went through? What are you trying to suggest?’
She snorted angrily a couple of times.
‘You wouldn’t have kept them either,’ she said. ‘No one would. By burning them, I felt I was ignoring him. Destroying him. Denying his existence. I did what I thought best. And when I saw him standing down by the road, watching the house, I rang here and asked for help. I talked to a policewoman, but she didn’t want to send anyone round. And it’s not easy for me to make demands,’ she added, ‘given my voice. I can’t make a fuss on the phone. I can barely be angry at all.’
Sejer doodled on his notepad.
‘You didn’t ring, Ragna,’ he said quietly. ‘Are you aware of that? We never received your call. All calls are meticulously recorded and saved, and we can’t find your call anywhere. And I can promise you, we’ve looked.’
Ragna sat there and held her breath. At first she wanted to laugh, but then she saw his eyes, his grey eyes. She had never felt such compassion from anyone before, not even William, the Englishman.
‘I did!’ she whispered.
‘No,’ Sejer said.
‘It was a female officer,’ she insisted. ‘I remember her well. I remember what she said, word for word.’
‘But there is no one who remembers you.’
Her mouth was so dry that she struggled to formulate the words.
‘You make it sound like I don’t exist.’
‘Oh, you exist, Ragna, I can see you clearly. And I hear everything you say, every single word. But the telephone conversation that you told me about is not recorded in our archives.’
She looked over at the dog that was lying by the window.
‘You’re forgetting one important thing,’ she said. ‘I came to the police station in person and filed a report. And I handed in the last message, the one that he’d left on my bedside table, with that report. I told you, I took a taxi here, and it was Irfan who came to get me. Irfan Baris.’
‘We have spoken to Baris,’ Sejer said.
Again, that unshakeable calm.
‘Then he can confirm that he drove me here. That I came into the reception on the ground floor.’
‘And he has. He picked you up at Kirkelina, you were standing in the road waiting, and he drove you to the police station, but he parked a bit further down the road and sat there reading the newspaper. He knows nothing about what you did after you got out of the car.’
‘Then you must find the report straight away. Go and find it now!’
‘We have not received a report about a break-in at Kirkelina 7. Nor the message that you say you found on your bedside table. The two documents were never submitted.’
‘Yes, they were.’
‘We can’t find them.’
‘Then you’ve lost them,’ she said in despair. ‘Now that what’s happened has happened, you’re denying that I asked for help, because then you could be held responsible.’
Sejer felt awful, as though he had clubbed a child. He had asked her to be honest in her evidence, had said he was willing to listen, and for days he had listened. Ragna had taken him into her lonely world, and now he had rejected her version. He was questioning her perception of reality, he had utterly betrayed her. And everything between them, the trust he had so carefully managed to build, would be ruined.
‘You seemed to be confuse
d,’ he said calmly.
‘Confused? Who said that?’
‘The people we’ve spoken to. Baris said that you were standing in the road, in the freezing cold, with practically nothing on. Your neighbour has seen you poking around in your dustbin on several occasions, and carrying the rubbish back into the house. People have also seen you wandering up and down your drive, down to the road and back again in a very agitated fashion.’
‘But I’ve explained all that!’ she whispered. ‘I was trying to lose count of the number of steps. So I could regain control.’
‘You were confused, Ragna. What came first? The confusion or the threats? Think about it for moment.’
‘I am not ill,’ she said flatly. She started to cry, without a sound, and did not wipe the tears away, just let them fall.
‘It’s not up to me to judge how ill you are,’ Sejer said. ‘Someone else will do that. But if that is the case, it would explain everything that has happened. And it’s an explanation that the court will believe, so the outcome will be different, and far better for you than prison. You will serve your sentence on different terms, you will be treated in a different way, and you will probably be released much earlier. That is why I am telling you all this, because I want the best for you. Because I want you to be somewhere where you won’t be judged, where you will be treated with care and understanding.’
It seemed that she had suddenly thought of something, a memory she could use.
‘You’ve got security cameras here. By the main entrance. And in reception.’
There was no change in Sejer’s expression when she said this.
‘We have looked at all the recordings,’ he said. ‘We have gone through them several times.’
‘Then you know that I was here, and you’ve seen the documents.’
‘No,’ he said. ‘We have not seen the documents.’
He turned his laptop so the screen was facing her.
‘You can see the recordings for yourself. Would you like to?’
She nodded, but had no idea where it would lead. When an image of the entrance to the police station appeared on the screen, she leaned forward in anticipation. There were the wide glass doors, there was the paved area in front, the sign on the wall, the symbol of a standing lion bearing an axe. But no movement, not a person in sight. Everything was filmed from above, she was looking down on everything, just as the camera had looked down on her. Then a figure appeared.
