The Girl With No Heart

by Marit Reiersgaard

  How long could she hold out? How long could she bear drawing oxygen into her lungs? It’s not true, what they say about hitting the wall, she thought. I’m not hitting the wall, I’m disappearing into it, being swallowed up by the wallpaper and the environmentally sound paint. Far into a dark house ready to be torn down. And it has always been here, she thought. The darkness. The suspicion.

  Gustav had been at the office. She had been here. A frightful image showed up. Newspaper headlines flickered before her eyes. Nonsense, it’s just the damned jealousy talking, she thought. She knew that the souls of Gustav and Idunn had always been connected with a cable. Always on line. Always this special contact. Daddy’s girl Idunn.

  Gustav had worked overtime on Wednesday evening. He was the one who would search for their daughter first. Before she herself had managed to get really scared. As if he knew something. When she had called him at the office and said that Idunn had not come home at the agreed time, she thought they could wait. That they mustn’t get hysterical. That Idunn would probably come in the door at any moment, of course she would. Listen, wasn’t someone at the door? Suddenly she was back to the fatal evening.

  She is sitting in the living room, her legs and arms crossed and looking at the TV without really seeing it. He has just come home after having slowly driven the whole way from Linnea’s house and home, down past Kverner and Mega without having seen her anywhere. He paces back and forth, looks at the clock. The whole time he is looking at the clock.

  «She should have been here a long time ago.»

  «Maybe the bus is behind schedule, or she didn’t catch it.»

  «There’s something that doesn’t add up, she doesn’t call...»

  «She never calls when we... when I...»

  She had gotten slightly irritated that he was so anxious. Irritated because he had poked at her own repressed fear, she now understood.

  And he had been right. They never heard her steps in the entryway. She hadn’t slammed the front door. Sølvi suddenly thought she could hear her brushing her teeth inside the bathroom. She stood up and went out. Her voice was there, she could hear her talk. She went into the bathroom without closing the door behind her, stood there, and looked at herself in the mirror. She is here, Sølvi thought, I can see her features behind mine. I’m going to carry her under my skin forever.

  «What are you doing?»

  Gustav looked in, and she saw his worried face behind her own in the mirror.

  «I see her all the time. Hear her. Don’t you?»

  Gustav did not answer right away.

  «I can have the doctor prescribe something for you,» he mumbled.

  «Do you think I’m going crazy? Where were you, Gustav?»

  Gustav looked at her in confusion.

  «Where were you the night Idunn...»

  «What is it we’ve talked about, Sølvi?»

  Gustav had that arrogant tone again.

  «Faith, Sølvi, does that word mean anything to you whatsoever?»

  Sølvi went past him without looking at him.

  «Where are you going?»

  Gustav took hold of her arm. Sølvi turned around, met his gaze. He was so old. Nothing to fear.

  «I’m just going to make a call,» said Sølvi, releasing herself from his grasp.

  61

  The smoke alarm started to wail as Bitte Røed put a fresh log in the fireplace. A gray cloud followed by a sour smell belched out into the living room from the opening. She had to open the porch door. Darn it, now it will be colder than before I lit the fire, she thought, making a new attempt to get control of the log fire. Some days should just be packed up in a cardboard box and taped shut. Given a kick downstairs and out. She still felt ashamed at the aggression she had felt in Lindstrand’s office. It wasn’t like her to get angry and whine like a little brat. And she’d had powdered sugar on her chin. She was just stupid, stupid, stupid.

  Kristian... She saw him all the time. He showed up in the strangest places. Like when she was making dinner and he suddenly looked up between salmon and green tagliatelle. Or when she was watching the weather report on TV2; it was as if Kristian settled like a low-pressure system over all of Eastern Norway.

  Verner had said that he thought Kristian would soon be released. She hoped it would be quicker than soon. Today, before she was about to leave work, she had overheard two people whispering in the corridor. They had been talking about someone with poor antennae. Was it her? If there was one thing she didn’t need as a detective, it was poor antennae. She needed for Kristian to come out clean. She would be marked for all time as someone with a poor sense of direction and broken antennae if it turned out that her lover had anything to do with the case.

  Bitte Røed continued unpacking. She had to see about getting all these boxes of books emptied. Suddenly she caught sight of a cardboard box without a label. She recognized it at once.

  This is all that’s left of my childhood, Bitte Røed thought while she took out the things, carefully, and set them all in a pile in front of her. Her old diary gave off a scent of mold. A light-blue book, with a lock you could open just by sticking a fingernail in and turning it. She opened to a page at random and was immediately thirteen years old again.

  Unlucky day! Tooth-brushing with fluoride in first period, and at lunch break Bente teased me because I had pork sausage. She said that I probably never got cold in the winter since I’m so fat. She tripped me so I fell on the pavement in the schoolyard when we were going home. Afterwards she and the boys chased me into the john. There I sat. Until it got completely quiet outside. I hardly dared open the door, but then they were all gone. Mom was mad because I came home late, but I don’t say a thing. Not a thing!

  The feeling of being big and at the same time worth so little tugged at her chest. She kept reading random pages. Once she had found a fox skull in the forest, and she suddenly remembered how fascinated she’d been by the thought that the skull once had flesh and skin and fur. Maybe it was just that episode that made her decide to become a police officer? The wonder about what life had been before it decomposed to dry bones, the compulsion to want to know what had happened right before death. She had completely forgotten how she took the skull home, set it on the desk, examined it, searched for injuries without finding any, and now she remembered the question she never got an answer to: Where was the rest of the skeleton?

  But the diary was mainly filled with fear of what her classmates might think up. Some of the pages were crinkled and almost illegible, as if they had been left out in the rain. Had she cried that much? The familiar sense of powerlessness washed over her. She had been so desperate that she could have killed. She closed the book and repeated what she had decided back then: She would show them. Damn right, she would scare them back.

  And she liked to think that she’d succeeded.

  At a class reunion a year or two before, she had surprised two of her school girlfriends in the restroom while they were in the process of setting thin, white lines on a pocket mirror. Without saying a word, she’d taken out her police identification. The ladies had turned pale under their foundation, but Bitte heard what they whispered as she left. «How in the world did Tubby Little Bitte get into the Police College?»

  The reminder of the old nickname had split the evening in two. She had arrived at the party as an adult, but left as an insecure teenager, completely incapable of reporting them for possession of narcotics. You are never more than thirteen years old at a reunion with your old class. The role as dumb and fat was assigned to her once and for all.

  She put the diary at the bottom of the box. Then she caught sight of the bundle of letters.

  Letters! Real letters with stamps on them. They were held together by a brittle rubber band. She felt a stab in her belly. She could still read the words without opening the letters. They seeped out through the envelopes like meltwater and stopped right outside her heart. So funny that Kristian had moved to Tranby too, to be sure, many years before her, but
that they now ended up in the same place! Was it predestined? She liked to think that some people were picked for each other, that an opening in time meant that, at just the right moment in life, they’d meet again. Bitte Røed thought about the old wound that had opened and which was bleeding freshly again. Kristian had left her once before. When he met Pia, the woman who would become the mother of Marte. But now he was hers again. Maybe hearts have to bleed occasionally to notice that they’re alive, she thought, squeezing the bundle of letters to her heart. She wouldn’t open them now. It was an experience that must be shared. I’m waiting for you, Kristian Skage.

  62

  «Dinner’s ready, Marte!»

  Marte wasn’t hungry. Even though her stomach was screaming for nourishment, she couldn’t bear the thought of sitting down in the living room with her mother, who would no doubt pump her for information about her father. But if she stayed up here, her mother would only get hysterical again, like she almost was when she locked herself in the bathroom. It was as good as gone now. The paint. The word they had sprayed on her stomach. She couldn’t talk to anyone about it. No one must find out what they’d written. Was it true? Idunn had written it on Facebook before, now it was etched into her skin with black spray paint. Whore? Was she? She thought about the pictures she’d found in the heart jewelry. It felt like she was full of winter.

  She took out her diary. Maybe she would feel better if she wrote down everything she was afraid of. She decided to make a list.

  That someone will find the pictures.

  That Fredrik hates me.

  That I’m pregnant (can you get that way in a second?)

  That Dad will fi—

  «Marte! Are you coming?»

  She stopped writing. Placed the pencil inside the book and the book under the mattress.

  «Yes, Mom.»

  She knew that everything would get worse if she didn’t go downstairs. But she wouldn’t say anything. Not a thing.

  But her mother didn’t harp about her father. Instead, she babbled away about how nice things were for her and Marte. And how nice everything would be. Didn’t she understand a thing? Nothing is ever going to be nice again, Mom. Everything has changed. Mom, your daughter is a whore, an evil and heartless daughter that no one can love.

  She had seen through her mother long ago. All that talk about how nice things were for the two of them. She only said that so that she would see the contrast. See that it could never be that nice for her and her father. But her mother was wrong. I do much better with my Dad, Marte thought. When she came back to her room, she took out the diary and added some points on the list before she finished up with a few lines about Fredrik.

  You must not say anything, Fredrik. Not say anything about us. You can make everything right again. Not for Idunn, but for me. I’m not angry. Not anymore. And now that Idunn is gone, we can start over, completely blank pages. At the same time I’m so scared, but I think you want to help me, Fredrik. You have to help me if the worst happens.

  63

  Bitte Røed stood for a moment admiring the bookcase. She had gathered all the black and white book spines on the same shelf. It looked clean, almost like piano keys. Then it didn’t matter if crime fiction and cookbooks were mixed up together.

  Just then the doorbell rang. The sharp sound cut right into her and struck a nerve. She looked at the clock. Who could it be this late? She thought about looking out the kitchen window before she answered, but didn’t get that far, because just then she heard the little click that meant someone was pushing the door handle down. Had she forgotten to lock it?

  She clenched her fists and tried to find the calm authority she sometimes had to use on the job, but suddenly got a glimpse of herself in the mirror hanging in the entryway. The tracksuit made her resemble an overweight pink panther. No one would take her seriously, much less think she could defend herself.

  «My God! It’s you!»

  Bitte Røed smiled with relief when she saw who it was.

  «No, it probably isn’t,» said Kristian, smiling mischievously. «It’s probably just me.»

  He opened his arms. Bitte Røed noticed her body soften and sank against him, felt how everything slid into place.

  She hadn’t broken any antennae. He was here. She was whole.

  «Kristian, you’ve been released.»

  «The attorney put the legal clauses on the table and wouldn’t give in until the police realized that I’d been held on too flimsy a basis.»

  He hugged her even tighter to him. She took in his aroma. The familiar smell of aftershave was lacking, replaced by a faint smell of sweat.

  «I came straight here, I hope that’s all right. Marte is with her mother, and I couldn’t bear the thought of the empty apartment.»

  «It’s pretty empty here too, but you can help me unpack,» Bitte said with a laugh.

  She took a step back, as if to check that it really was him. He had two days of beard stubble. How did I manage to catch such a he-man? she thought, letting her hand stroke his rough cheek. She was suddenly thirteen again and embarrassed. Bitte brushed one hand down her side, suddenly embarrassed over how she looked. Kristian followed her gaze and smiled.

  «Have you gotten dressed up, Moominmamma?»

  It struck her suddenly how heavy she must look in the tracksuit.

  «I wanted to have something comfortable on while I’m unpacking. I can’t even blame it on the fact that it’s Julie’s. It was bought by me, for me, and on a day when I was completely sane.»

  She tried to smile.

  «To Julie’s great shame, obviously, but I’ve promised never to show myself outside the door in this.»

  She felt how her cheeks were starting to glow.

  «You fit in here in Lier,» he exclaimed, stroking her cheek.

  «And what criteria are you going by?»

  «Apple cheeks! You have round, red apple cheeks. You do know that this is the apple region?»

  Bitte Røed touched her face unconsciously. It was probably meant as a compliment.

  She made tea and put out cheese and a package of Ritz crackers. She was nearly bursting to find out what they had asked him, and had to restrain herself from starting an interrogation. She knew that even though he’d been released, the team would still be keeping an eye on him.

  «Aren’t you wondering?» Kristian asked after a while.

  «Was it Verner who questioned you?»

  «He’s the one with the ponytail, right?»

  Bitte nodded. Kristian did not say anything about what he thought of him, and she did not want to ask. Verner could be merciless, she knew that, and she recalled his sardonic references to her «boyfriend.» As if he’d decided in advance that it should be him. She gloated a little at the thought that they had to release him. You’re probably the one with poor antennae, Verner Jacobsen, Bitte thought.

  «Yes, why did they let you go?» she asked.

  «I assume they understood that I was the one who was telling the truth. I don’t know if Fredrik is still there, or what he really said, but I gather that he cast doubt on what I testified.»

  «I’m not on the case, Kristian, and in any event, I shouldn’t talk about it.»

  «I understand,» Kristian said, but kept on anyway.

  «The boy must have said that I hadn’t touched the girl, but of course I touched her. I had to check whether she was injured. He’s obviously lying. But why? Fortunately, I’m not the one who has to figure that out.»

  «No, me neither,» Bitte said. «Let’s not talk anymore about the case. You’re free, that’s the most important thing. I can’t take any more shoptalk right now. Besides, I’ve found something.»

  Bitte smiled secretively and retrieved the letters she had found earlier in the evening. She sat down close beside him as she opened the first envelope.

  «What’s this?»

  «Don’t you recognize them? You’re the one who wrote them. Right after we’d been to scout camp.»

  «Oh, no,» K
ristian exclaimed. «You’re not saying you’ve saved those letters all these years.»

  Bitte took the first letter out of the envelope.

  «Kiss here!» it said on an open space in the letter. It was signed with an arrow. I kissed here!

  Bitte put her mouth against the paper and made a red mark.

  «Like that,» she said.

  Wednesday, December 3

  64

  The team was assembled in the conference room for the first meeting of the day. Superintendent Thomas Lindstrand led the small group, made up of Verner Jacobsen, Heiki Stenvald, Marius Moe, Ida Madsen, two representatives from the National Criminal Investigation Service, Hildegunn Ebbestad, and a prosecutor.

  «We need to summarize where we stand,» Thomas Lindstrand began, nodding toward Verner Jacobsen.

  I shouldn’t have been the lead investigator in this case, Verner thought. He had slept poorly, his concentration was fuzzy, and even though he had read all the case documents, he couldn’t decide where to begin.

  «I just need to get some coffee and clear my head,» he said, excusing himself to step out to the hall.

  «Team assembled?» Bitte Røed asked. She was standing in front of the machine, and had just pressed the button for hot chocolate.

  «I’m sorry you can’t be there,» said Verner, feeling a sudden urge to give her an encouraging hug. It was as if she sensed what he meant to do and took a step back.

  «It’s just fine,» she said. «I have to get going. Finn is waiting in the interview room.»

  Verner gripped the coffee cup and pinched his eyes shut for a moment. Concentration, he told himself as he went back to the waiting group.