Chapter 12
The phone rang and Freyja wondered whether to pick up. She’d have been better off ignoring the calls she’d received earlier that morning for all the pleasure they’d brought her. One was from an old classmate wanting to know if she’d got the e-mail about the reunion. He seemed oddly keen that she should go along. After racking her brains for a moment, she remembered who he was: they’d bumped into each other recently at the supermarket. He’d behaved like an idiot and couldn’t stop exclaiming over how great she was looking. So she got a kick out of telling him that yes, she had got the e-mail but had forgotten to reply. Still, now that she had him on the line she could save herself the bother: no, she wouldn’t be going. She rang off, punching the air with her fist.
The second call had had more of an impact on her day. Saga’s mother had rung to ask if Freyja could collect her from nursery as the little girl had a stomach bug. Since she herself had used up all her sick days, she’d be grateful if Freyja could stand in for Baldur. And of course, as always, she said yes. If she could look after his dog, it was both her duty and her pleasure to shoulder some of his responsibilities towards his daughter. Though when she’d originally signed up to be one of her niece’s carers, she hadn’t really given any thought to vomiting bugs.
As she picked up the phone, Freyja glanced over at the child asleep on the sofa. Saga’s mouth was turned down, even in sleep, traces of vomit still clinging to the corners. Freyja made a face, then, checking the screen, saw that it was Huldar. She dithered, unsure whether to answer. What if he asked her to come down to the station and help him interview more minors? She could hardly take Saga along, especially when she was throwing up. But she had no choice as she was officially on call.
‘Have you heard the news?’ As usual Huldar jumped straight in the moment she said hello.
‘Is this some kind of police technique? Never introduce yourself, just start talking as if we’re already in the middle of a conversation?’
‘No. Sorry. It’s Huldar. Have you seen the news?’
‘No, I haven’t looked at it yet.’ Before being landed with Saga, Freyja had spent the morning with her nose buried in her course books. The maths problems, meanwhile, lay unsolved on the kitchen table, a situation that seemed unlikely to change any time soon. Oh, well, that wouldn’t be the end of the world. ‘What’s up?’
‘Stella. Her body’s been found.’
‘Found?’ Freyja blurted, sounding foolishly surprised, though deep down she’d known ever since seeing the CCTV footage that Stella was dead.
‘Yes. So it’s officially murder.’
Freyja was silent while casting around for the right words. If she’d been clinging to a faint hope that the girl was still alive, what must it have been like for her parents? They must be utterly distraught. ‘That’s terrible. Her poor parents. They were notified before it was made public, weren’t they? Please tell me they didn’t have to learn it from the news? Have they been offered grief counselling?’ As always when she got bad news, she couldn’t stop herself pouring out a stream of pointless questions.
‘They didn’t want any. And no, they didn’t read about it online. The police contacted them yesterday evening. They’re … they’re in shock. As you’d expect.’
Freyja bit back any further questions about the poor couple. For Stella’s parents, life would never be the same again. Right now it must feel as if the future was stretching out before them in an eternity of emptiness and grief. She only hoped for their sakes that they had other children to keep them going, force them to take part in the daily business of living, however much they might long to take to their beds and never get up again.
‘One question,’ Huldar went on. ‘If I say the number two to you, what immediately springs to mind?’
‘Two?’
‘Yes. What are the first things you think of?’
‘Umm … Well, a couple … a silver medal, a sequel. Someone who takes second place. Nothing else off the top of my head. Why do you ask?’
‘It doesn’t matter. That’s not the reason for my call.’
‘Oh?’ Freyja frowned, her eyes straying to Saga. What was she to do if he needed her to come into the station? ‘Are you conducting more interviews?’
‘No. Not right now.’
Freyja couldn’t hold back a sigh of relief.
‘What?’ It hadn’t escaped Huldar.
‘Nothing. Go on.’
‘As there are no interviews planned for today, I was going to ask if you could do a bit of research into bullying for me. I have a hunch that the incidents you mentioned could be linked to the case, so we’d be grateful for anything you can dig up on the subject, especially any evidence that it might drive someone to commit murder.’
‘I’ll take a look but the answer to that is fairly obvious. In the worst-case scenarios, all conflicts can potentially drive people to violence. I’m not saying everyone would be capable of murder, but being subjected to that kind of ordeal over a long period can tip some people over the edge. Especially if they’re under the influence of alcohol or drugs. You must be familiar with that from your job.’ Saga stirred on the sofa and Freyja lowered her voice, got up and moved towards the door.
‘Yes, I am.’ Huldar dropped his voice too.
‘You don’t need to whisper.’ Freyja stopped and leant against the doorframe, from where she could keep an eye on Saga, who appeared to be sound asleep again. ‘I’m only whispering because I’ve got a sleeping child here. But don’t worry, I can still look into it for you.’
‘A sleeping child?’
‘My niece Saga, Baldur’s daughter.’
‘Oh.’ Huldar’s voice resumed normal pitch. ‘Isn’t he due to be released soon?’
‘Yes. He’s got a place at the halfway house after Christmas.’ Freyja fell silent. She preferred not to discuss her jailbird brother with Huldar. It felt like a betrayal. ‘I was wondering if I should talk to Stella’s headmistress; find out if Adalheidur’s father has shown any signs of being violent. Subtly, of course. I could say I’m concerned about the pupils Stella came into contact with. She may have picked on other kids as well. Has anyone looked into that?’
‘No. To be honest, we’re not actually exploring the bullying angle. Not yet. But we’re going through Stella’s computer and social media activity and I understand quite a lot of ugly stuff has turned up, which fits in with the info you gave us. So they’re bound to start taking that aspect more seriously soon. Anyway, I can’t see any reason why you shouldn’t do something for us. We’ve only got you for a few days, so we’d better make good use of you. By all means talk to the head. But remember, you’re not interrogating her, just putting out feelers. If it looks like there’s something to be gained from it, we’ll organise a formal interview. Tread carefully.’
‘Will do.’ Freyja lowered her voice still further as Saga murmured in her sleep and rolled over. A string of drool dribbled out of her downturned mouth, washing away the remnants of the vomit – onto the sofa. Oh, great. ‘One question: have you found anything that could explain why Stella’s friends were so alarmed when you mentioned her computer?’
‘Well, we found a hate page she set up, directed at Adalheidur. It’s nasty, vicious stuff but I doubt they’d be that bothered about being exposed, seeing as they all seem to have posted the abuse under their real names. Maybe there’s worse to come. Like I said, we’re still going through her computer.’
‘OK.’ Saga stirred again and Freyja had to dash over to the sofa to prevent her from rolling off. ‘Listen, I’ve got to go. Do you want me to call if I find out anything interesting?’
He said yes and, as Freyja was about to say goodbye, added quickly: ‘Any chance you’re free this evening? Could I maybe invite you out for supper? You can bring your niece, if you like. Just for a meal. You could fill me in on what you find out today. Save yourself a phone call.’
Freyja rolled her eyes. She’d have refused the moment he asked if she could ha
ve got a word in edgeways but he spoke in such a rush that he was almost stumbling over the words. Just because she’d given up on Tinder, that didn’t mean she was desperate enough to go out with Huldar. Though maybe she’d have thought differently if he’d rung her during her last Tinder date. The man in question had had to abandon her in a hurry since he was wearing an ankle tag and had to be home by ten. He’d rushed out of the restaurant in the middle of dessert, leaving her with the bill and the question about what he’d been charged with still on her lips. ‘No, Huldar. Thanks all the same.’
He sounded crestfallen as he said goodbye.
Saga sat on the floor playing with the wooden bricks Freyja had given her for her first birthday. Saga’s mother Fanney, feeling that the bright primary colours didn’t quite go with her tastefully muted decor, had sent them home with Freyja the next time she came to collect the little girl. Although Freyja had been rather offended, the bricks had subsequently proved so useful that she’d forgiven the woman. They bought her a little peace while Saga was playing with them, even if the little girl’s technique wasn’t quite what the manufacturer had had in mind. The bricks now formed a long wobbly line across the sitting-room floor. It was the only game Saga would play with them. She could amuse herself for hours. Freyja doubted she got as much pleasure out of any of the other toys she’d received at her tasteful birthday party: the dolls, tea sets and small horses in pastel colours, each featuring huge eyes or a cute flowery pattern. After two parcels, Saga had lost interest and her mother had had to open the rest while her daughter entertained herself by kicking off her tiny patent leather shoes. Despite the guests’ valiant efforts to hide the fact, they were obviously unimpressed by her behaviour and sullen expression. Fortunately, her mother had seemed oblivious to this. And Freyja herself had been preoccupied with wondering if she was the only adult in the room who didn’t write a lifestyle or food blog.
Freyja reread the e-mail, then pressed ‘Send’. When Saga had used up the final brick, she would have to get up, collect them all and put them back in the bucket so the little girl could start again. Alternatively, Saga would lose interest and Freyja would have to find something else to keep her occupied. Still, Freyja had made good use of the peace and quiet after Huldar’s phone call to read everything she could find online about bullying, though most of it wouldn’t be much use to the police. It consisted mainly of news items, blogs and interviews that didn’t shed any real light on the problem except to show how widespread it was and how difficult to stop. Huldar could have looked that up himself. Nevertheless, she noted down the names of any potentially interesting individuals, though the name of the victim was usually withheld.
Next, she turned her attention to academic articles and found two that gave her a more in-depth insight. Neither was concerned with violence, though. She was acquainted with the author, Kjartan Erlendsson, since he’d studied psychology with her at university. His name had kept cropping up in the news reports and articles she’d read as the media’s go-to expert. Every issue had its specialist and it seemed that he had cornered bullying. She tapped his name into a search engine and saw that he had specialised in this area after his undergraduate degree, later opening a clinic offering counselling for the problem.
In the hope of speeding things up, she decided to e-mail him and ask if they could meet for a chat. Short though the message was, she found it tricky to write due to the necessity of leaving Stella’s name out of it. Her biggest worry, however, was that he might think she was trying to renew their acquaintance for something other than professional reasons. She didn’t want to look foolish in the eyes of a former fellow student and there were few things more uncool than flirting by e-mail. Deciding that the final version just about passed muster, she sent it off, only to be struck immediately with doubts. If only she’d reread it one more time.
Before closing her laptop and starting to pick up Saga’s bricks, she checked the screen again in the hope that he might have answered. No such luck. Pity her e-mail didn’t offer the same feature as her messaging app, which would have shown whether he’d opened it and maybe also three moving dots to indicate that he was writing a reply. Then again, there was nothing worse than watching those dots only for the anticipated answer not to materialise.
Freyja dropped the bricks back into the box while Saga sat on the floor, legs outstretched, watching her. Molly was lying beside her. The two of them had formed an alliance and there were times when Freyja almost felt they were whispering about her behind her back, though of course neither of them could speak.
Once the last brick was back in the box, Saga embarked on her line-building again. Guaranteed a quarter of an hour’s peace, Freyja hurriedly tried the headmistress again. She’d rung her immediately after saying goodbye to Huldar but the woman had been busy.
This time she answered on the second ring. Freyja introduced herself as the psychologist who had accompanied the police the day before, and this immediately secured the head’s interest. She even seemed pleased to hear from her, despite being upset by the news about Stella. While she talked at length about the tragic business, Freyja watched the minutes ticking away and the number of bricks in the box dwindling. At this rate, by the time she finally got a chance to ask about Adalheidur and Stella, she would be forced to cut the conversation short. The instant the woman paused for breath, Freyja jumped in. ‘Now we know for sure that Stella’s dead, I was wondering if there were any pupils in particular you’d need to keep an eye on.’
‘Well, yes. I expect so.’
‘Apart from the obvious ones, like her friends.’
‘I’m sorry, I’m not with you.’
‘I gather there was bad blood between Stella and one of the girls in her class. I’d advise you to include her when you’re offering trauma counselling.’
‘Adalheidur, you mean? I don’t think you need worry about her. I know it’s not a very nice thing to say, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Stella’s death makes life easier for her.’
‘I wouldn’t be so sure of that. She may struggle with her feelings. If my information is correct, relations between them were still bad at the time of Stella’s death, which means there can never be any showdown or reconciliation. That’s not good for Adalheidur. And there’s a risk, too, that Stella’s friends might take out their grief and anger on her. Feelings like that tend to seek an outlet.’
‘To be honest, that hadn’t occurred to me. But they’re good girls really, so I don’t think you need worry.’
Freyja watched as Saga attempted to place a bright-red brick next to a green one. Despite her fierce concentration, her short, fat fingers struggled to complete the task. Her perma-scowl deepened with frustration. Freyja clamped the phone between ear and shoulder and smiled at her, silently clapping her hands to forestall any tears. In her limited experience, bringing up children consisted on the one hand of preventative action, like constantly saying ‘no’, and on the other, of forcing them into things against their will: clothes, shoes, hats, gloves, car seats, pushchairs and the child seats in shopping trolleys. She would never have believed how difficult it was to get a toddler dressed. It was as bad as trying to pull your clothes on when you’re wet from the shower.
Freyja focused on the conversation again, hoping the short pause wouldn’t prompt the head to return to the subject of Stella’s death. ‘I do think you should bear it in mind. How serious was the bullying, by the way?’
‘Bad enough for Adalheidur to attempt suicide. She was off school for a month. After that, serious efforts were made to resolve the situation and, as far as I know, it had improved. At school, anyway. Unfortunately it’s harder to monitor what happens outside school hours. That’s when things can really escalate, on social media.’
The news of Adalheidur’s suicide attempt rendered Freyja momentarily speechless. The matter was far graver than she’d thought. ‘I had a quick word with Adalheidur after the meeting and understood from her that Stella had still been giving her grief.’
‘I’m very sorry to hear that. But please believe me, it’s not from any lack of effort on our part. The solution in these cases doesn’t lie entirely with us. We can’t control what happens outside school, on the internet. That’s a matter for the bully’s parents. All we can do is speak to the kids when we hear about this type of incident. And urge their parents to take action, which is what we did in Adalheidur’s case. We talked to Stella’s parents and to all the girls in her circle of friends. I really believed we’d made progress in tackling that particular problem.’
‘Temporarily, perhaps. But I gather Stella had recently circulated a photo of Adalheidur naked in the shower after gym, with the sole purpose of humiliating her. The photo was taken at your school.’ Freyja broke off, realising that she was no longer motivated by the interests of the police inquiry. What was she thinking of, talking about a newly deceased girl like this? ‘I hope it doesn’t sound as if I’m accusing you of anything. I know schools have few options and that this problem is almost impossible to stamp out.’
‘What’s this photo you mentioned?’
‘A picture of Adalheidur naked in the shower, taken without her knowledge or permission, and posted on the internet.’
‘It’s the first I’ve heard of it. As far as I’m aware, Adalheidur hasn’t made any complaints for several months. And I understood from Stella that she was making a real effort to be nice to her.’
It was obvious what had happened: Adalheidur had given up. The victims of bullying often said that when it proved impossible to get help, they lost the will to go on fighting. What was worse, the perpetrators often reacted extremely badly to being reported and only upped the level of abuse. Adalheidur had mentioned that herself. The fuss around her suicide attempt had probably provoked the gang of girls to behave even more spitefully. Teenagers didn’t like it when parents got involved in what they regarded as their private affairs. Especially when it showed them in a bad light. ‘No, apparently the photo was recent. According to Adalheidur, the bullying hadn’t stopped.’
The Absolution Page 9
