Verner had come into her office looking ecstatic. Did he think that she didn’t have control of her kids? Did he think perhaps it was funny? She felt a wave of irritation, and worse, tears that were on their way to her eyes. She tried not to blink and answered curtly and to the point.
«Yes, of course I knew she was there.»
She got up and turned her back to him, pretended she was looking for something on the bookcase behind her, and said that she and Marius Moe were about to leave for the house that burned down in Tranby. Marius was sitting behind the bookcase, which served as a room divider, talking on the phone.
«Half the police corps has the flu, so I have to temporarily let the hunt for the hearse thief rest,» she said without turning around. She was glad that Marius was occupied by another conversation and probably not paying attention to what she and Verner were talking about.
«The car has turned up, after all,» she continued. «And even though it’s a bit unusual, we both know that car theft is seldom prioritized. And now there’s this new case I’ve got on my hands...»
«Yes, well, I was just thinking...» Verner mumbled, leaving the office.
For a moment he looked sad as he backed out with those damned lists of his. Now she regretted having said that thing about the hearse thief.
She had to push this away. The firefighters had kept on working in the morning hours, and the remains of a charred body were on ice at the moment, awaiting a routine autopsy. The house was registered to Erna Eriksen, a retiree, who lived alone and had now been reported missing. It was presumably her body that was found in what had once been the kitchen. Most likely a result of senile dementia and a kettle on the stove, Bitte thought, considering the case cleared up.
25
Agnar got up from the sofa, went over to the window, and looked out. He had been sleeping half the day. Elin had come home at night without his having noticed and had already left for work again when he woke up. Had to take a double shift today, Finn explained. Illness at the nursing home. Agnar was worried that Finn didn’t have control of her, but he could not exactly hold her hostage until he figured out what he should do, either. Pregnant ladies could come up with very strange ideas—he had both heard and read that. But Finn assured him that she would do as she was told. Fear is good, thought Agnar. It makes people compliant.
«A lot has changed out here,» he said without turning around.
«Yes,» said Finn.
«You too. You’ve fixed yourself up good now. An old lady and stuff. Not bad. And now there’ll be kids.»
Finn did not reply.
Agnar turned around. Saw the shadow of the proud smile Finn was unable to camouflage, but did not return it. Kids. He didn’t like kids. He liked the thought of himself as a child least of all. The image of the ravine with the creek that gurgled and ran under layer upon layer of innocent white snow was clear to him again.
«Interesting,» he said.
«What’s that?»
«That thing with kids.»
Agnar took another gulp of the beer Finn had offered him, even though it was only a little past lunchtime.
«Kids are good at raising hell. They scream just like kittens.»
Finn frowned. Two deep sighs of anxiety. Agnar knew that he too was back at the bottom of the ravine.
«I know that you and your old lady would really like to sic the police on me. And that’s just fine. I actually want them to find me, but I want you and Elin to say that I’ve been here since Wednesday. I’ve been thinking a bit. I think you can say that I’ve been drunk and slept on the sofa here like a little baby without knowing a thing about my mother.»
He put stress on baby, sugared his voice, and could hear for himself how disgusting it sounded. Finn shook his head. Faintly, as if he wasn’t aware of it himself. He gave Agnar what appeared to be an inquisitive look. He was a lousy actor.
«You don’t need to look surprised, Finn. You know as well as I do that it was her house that burned. And you know too that I’m going to get the blame.»
«Was it you? Were you the one who set fire to it?»
Agnar emptied the last of the beer bottle, shook it, and peeked down into it with one eye.
«You owe me a favor,» said Agnar, waving the empty bottle.
Finn took it and went to the refrigerator. Agnar followed along watchfully. He needed an alibi. And Finn and his old lady would give him one.
«I don’t owe you anything,» Finn said when he came back. Agnar saw that he was trying to stay calm. He sat down with an apparently relaxed posture on the sofa, put his feet on the table. What an arrogant bastard you’ve become, thought Agnar. Out loud he said, «Does Elin know about your past?»
Finn set his feet on the floor again, straightened up.
«All she needs to know,» he answered.
«All?»
Finn did not reply.
«What do you think she would say if I told her everything?»
«She wouldn’t believe you.»
«No? Are you sure?»
Finn stood up, walked quickly over to the window, and stared down at the grassy area that extended between the buildings. Agnar came up behind him. An abandoned tricycle was overturned outside the garbage enclosure. Suddenly it was as if Agnar caught sight of himself down there. The long legs, knees that struck the handle of the tricycle. He could still feel the shame of using a child’s cycle when the boys on the street had Apaches, even if they were too little to sit on the seat and had to stand on the pedals.
«Is that where your kid will play one day?» Agnar asked, swallowing the memory. He saw how the innocent question struck like a gunshot. «You owe me a favor,» he repeated.
«Fine,» said Finn, still with his back turned. Then he turned around and nailed his buddy’s gaze.
«We’ll give you an alibi, but then we’ll never see you here again. Understood?»
Agnar smiled. Took a swig from the bottle.
«I need shaving supplies and fresh clothes,» said Agnar. «And then you should burn the ones I have on.» He opened his jacket, which he had kept on for the past twenty-four hours and tossed it on the sofa. He saw that Finn was staring at the now brown spots on the shirt. Agnar pretended not to notice.
«I’ll be damned if I’m not starting to stink.»
He stuck his nose in his armpit and made a grimace before he glanced at the crackling woodstove.
«I’ve been here since Wednesday afternoon,» he said slowly, as if he was talking to someone mentally deficient.
«I got off the train in Drammen and came straight here. Now you or your old lady can contact the authorities. You can say that you just figured out that it’s most likely my mother’s house that burned down, but you should sound as if I don’t know anything about it. You know, Finn, my mother and I never got along very well. There is no reason that I should have been there, you can say that if they’re wondering.»
Finn nodded.
«And by the way, when I think about it,» said Agnar. «Since it’s like I’m not supposed to know anything, maybe it’s best if your old lady reports it. You’ve been on a bender with me the whole time since Wednesday, and you don’t want to make a call so that I hear it. I’ll be so fucking surprised by the news, do you understand?»
26
Fredrik was accompanied into the interview room by a representative from Child Protective Services. He did not show any sign of taking off his outerwear, sat down with gloves on, the zipper of his jacket pulled up and a cap pulled down over his forehead. The cap said «Meathead» in white letters.
«Don’t you want to take off your jacket? You may be here for a while, you know,» Verner Jacobsen said, handing him a Coke. The boy looked frightened for a moment, but then he pulled off his gloves and jacket. The cap, on the other hand, he kept on. He took several quick sips of the fizzy drink.
Verner Jacobsen sat down on the available chair. Fredrik ought to have a parent with him, he thought, but no one had taken the trouble to come with their son
. Admittedly, the father had been present during the interviews yesterday, but today they had to contact Child Protective Services, even though the boy had maintained it was unnecessary.
Verner paged randomly back and forth in the documents on the laptop he was holding. That both Fredrik and the deceased had been at the party at Linnea’s on Wednesday evening was confirmed. He found the report that the patrol had written after they had been called out to calm down the disturbance. Among other things, it said that Fredrik had behaved rudely and given a false identity, he had been drinking beer and was visibly intoxicated. There was little that suggested arrogance in the boy who was sitting across from him now. He seemed embarrassed and scared. Verner Jacobsen wondered whether he had reason to be anxious. He was sure he would soon find out, but hoped deep down that the boy was innocent. It was as if he was searching for his own son in the form of every young man right now. He encountered the same immaturity almost everywhere, and he bled for them all.
«Fredrik, you are here because you stated to the patrol that came to the scene and in an interview yesterday that you found the deceased Idunn Olsen at Høgdabakkene, more precisely right by the obelisk, on Wednesday evening. Can you tell us a little about your relationship to the deceased?»
«Relationship?»
His voice cracked. Fredrik looked up quickly and just as quickly lowered his gaze again. He was blushing.
So, they did have some kind of relationship.
«You obviously have no obligation to explain yourself,» said Verner Jacobsen. «But it would a great help to the police if you would respond to the questions we ask you.»
«She was in the class behind me. We weren’t a couple.»
The word «couple» stumbled out of his mouth, as if it was unpleasant to pronounce it.
«Did you know her very well?»
«Yes, we went to the same school, I said.»
«How well did you know her?»
«What should I say, I knew her the way I know other girls at school.»
«So, you weren’t a couple.»
«No!»
«Were you a couple before?»
«No!»
He almost shouted. Verner let the question be, tried not to draw hasty conclusions. Small glimpses of Victor from his sickbed flashed before his eyes. If a girl had visited him, and afterward he had asked who she was, Victor would have blushed no matter who had been there. Verner Jacobsen decided not to embarrass the boy further.
«You were at the party at the home of Idunn’s girlfriend, Linnea, earlier in the evening.»
That was a statement. Even so the boy nodded as if it had been a question.
«How would you describe the party?»
«What do you mean? It was just a normal party.»
«Did it get a little out of hand?»
Fredrik felt that he was blushing. He thought about Marte, but tried to push the thought of her away. He mustn’t mention her, not at any price. He looked at the detective. He was not wearing a uniform, looked like a completely ordinary guy, apart from the ponytail. It looked ridiculous. Old dude, probably thought it made him look cool. Was that why he had been assigned to question him, because he was the youngest one they could scare up? Now he was waiting for an answer. Fredrik squirmed in the chair and tried to figure out what he should say while a scene from the party played out in his mind. He had been swaying in the doorway and looked into the kitchen.
Linnea and Idunn are sitting next to each other at the table with their heads together and their arms tangled up. Are they crying? He can’t bear to get mixed up in it. Can’t stand any more drama. He takes another gulp from the beer bottle, even though it tastes like warm piss. And another. He wants to forget. Forget all these goddamn ladies. It wasn’t solely his fault. The others had provoked him, and he only wanted to help Marte. Not that he had dared say much; everything could suddenly shift.
Her eyes. Damn it. Marte had met his gaze for a very brief moment, but he knew that gaze would follow him forever. She had been a kitten with big hands around her neck, ready to be drowned.
He wants to drink Marte’s gaze away. The beer makes him lethargic in a cool way. It’s unbelievable that he hasn’t discovered this before. He swallows. Quickly. Down into his body. Out into his blood. Up into his head.
Suddenly everything is chaos. Two men in uniform are talking to him.
«Can you put down that bottle?»
«You can’t tell me what to do. You’re not my father.»
«No, but I’m a policeman, so actually I can. What’s your name?»
«Varg Veum.»
«You know that it’s a crime punishable with fines up to 4,000 kroner to give a false identity to the police?»
The drunkenness vanishes.
«Fredrik,» he answers. «Fredrik Paulsen.»
«How old are you?»
«Sixteen.»
«We need address, phone number, and name of your parents.»
He gives them his mother’s name.
«We’ve had a report of disturbance and destruction of property. Can you tell me what happened here, Fredrik?»
«Damned if I know. I don’t live here. It’s Linnea. That girl over there.»
He nods toward the doorway to the kitchen and notices that Idunn is gone.
«We have to check if you have illegal objects on you, okay?»
«Okay.»
Fredrik obediently extends his arms to the side, the way you do when you’re patted down at airport security.
«You can go home now, Fredrik, but be prepared—we might contact you later.»
There are several other kids on their way out. It feels like being part of an evacuation at school, the annual fire drill. He doesn’t envy Linnea. She had only invited a few girls, but then smart Beate had posted on Facebook that they were having a girl party. It had been fun, until that thing with Marte.
Fredrik lights a smoke out in the yard. Most of the young people live in Lierskogen and have disappeared in that direction. He must either find a bus or go on foot through the forest. He walks around the house, peeks in through the kitchen window, and sees Linnea sitting there with her head in her hands. He knocks on the window. Linnea jumps, but seems happy to see him. She opens the window.
«What’s happening?» Fredrik asks.
«The police are in the living room filling out some forms. The TV is broken. They said I have to write a list of everyone who was here, but I don’t know the names of half of them. And then they called my dad.»
Fredrik swallows.
«Where’s Idunn?» he asks.
«I think she split when the police came,» Linnea says. «Suddenly she was gone.»
«She split?»
«A lot of them did,» Linnea says. «And you know what’s going to happen if her parents find out that she was here, don’t you?»
Fredrik nods.
«And Marte?»
Linnea makes a face. It’s as if her face is billowing. He suddenly feels nauseated.
«What do you care about her?»
«I don’t care.»
«Marte said she was going to get picked up. She left before the police arrived. Can’t you come in again?»
She looks at him with puppy-dog eyes. Which usually makes him obedient. That was what had happened earlier in the evening. Both Idunn and Linnea had used just that look. Pull yourself together, Fredrik, he thinks. You’re drunk. You might throw up. No more ladies now. No more trouble. He spits on the ground. The clump lands right by his boots and makes a light-yellow circle in the snow.
«Gotta go,» he says, avoiding her gaze, thinking that if he runs, he may be able to catch up with Idunn.
«Tell me what you remember from the party,» Verner Jacobsen said.
Fredrik was yanked back to the police station and the claustrophobically cramped room. It didn’t help that they had put a sheepskin on the chair. The seat was hard.
«I don’t remember too clearly,» he said, thinking that really might work. The man was sitting
with a computer in front of him that apparently contained a report about the party that the other policemen had written. It probably said that he’d been drinking.
«I’d been drinking,» he said, thinking it was clever to admit the mistakes he had made, the small mistakes.
«Yes, I know that,» said Verner Jacobsen. «But I would really like to know what happened at the party, what you saw with your own eyes.»
Oh, the hell with it! thought Fredrik. No you won’t. Three girls showed up in his head by turns. Idunn. Linnea. Marte. He dreamed about them at night too. It always started with them smiling, but then they transformed, turned into grotesque creatures that kept an eye on him. He shook his head.
«You don’t want to say anything?»
The policeman’s voice made the image of the three girls go away.
«Sure,» said Fredrik. «It was a completely ordinary party, we listened to music, some were dancing, I was drinking.»
«Where did you get the beer?»
«I brought it with me from home.»
«Do you get beer at home?»
He was quiet.
«Sometimes. But this time I helped myself from my dad’s supply without asking. He usually doesn’t notice anything.»
Verner Jacobsen decided to let the party rest for the time being and quickly changed subject.
«Explain how you found Idunn.»
The woman from Child Protective Services gave Verner a sharp look. It appeared that she wanted to say something, but Fredrik answered before she had time to open her mouth.
«How?»
«You said that you found her in the forest, but how did you discover her?»
«I walked right into her.»
«Where?»
«By the obelisk.»
«But the obelisk is a ways from the road. Did you see her from up on the road?»
«Noooo.»
He thought that his head might burst. Should he say it? No, hell if he would sit here and tell what he’d done.
«So, tell us.»
He saw that the detective’s nostrils had flared. He was suddenly reminded of an animal that sensed blood. He yawned, picked up the soda bottle, and took a sip.
The Girl With No Heart Page 7
