by Karin Fossum
Chapter 33
SEJER LOOKED OUT of the window at the car park. At the flimsy gate through which the shadier street life constantly broke in, to vandalise or steal equipment, and the tufts of dry grass along the fence. Mrs Brenningen had planted petunias there once, now the weeds had won the battle. No one had time to weed. The report told him that the remand prisoner Eva Magnus hadn’t slept at all, and that she’d refused all food and drink. It didn’t look good. In addition, she’d been very troubled by the way they could look in on her through the window in the door, and at the light being left on all night.
He had to get up and give her the news, but he felt a huge reluctance, and so it was a relief when there was a knock at the door. A tiny postponement. Karlsen stuck his head in.
‘You’ve had rather a night, I hear!’ He sat down heavily by the desk. ‘We’ve had a missing-person report.’
‘Ah!’ said Sejer. A new case was just what he needed, something that would remind him that, after all, it was only a job he was paid to do, and that he could lock it away in his drawer at four o’clock, at least if he made an effort. ‘I’ll take anything provided it’s not a child.’
Karlsen sighed. He, too, threw a glance at the police cars as if to make sure they were there. They were like a couple of old cowboys who’d found themselves a table in the saloon and were constantly on the lookout for horse thieves. ‘Have you told Eva Magnus yet?’
He shook his head. ‘I’m finding any excuse for postponing it.’
‘Not much point, is there?’
‘No, but I’m dreading it.’
‘I could do it for you.’
‘Thanks, but it’s my job. Either I do it, or I should retire.’ He glanced at his colleague. ‘Well, who didn’t come home last night?’
Karlsen pulled a sheet of paper from his inner pocket and unfolded it. He read it to himself, tugged at his moustache a couple of times and reluctantly cleared his throat: ‘Six-year-old girl, Ragnhild Album. Slept over with a friend in the area last night and was supposed to walk home this morning. Walk of only about ten or twelve minutes. She was pushing a pink doll’s pram with one of those crying dolls in it. Called Elise.’
‘Elise?’
‘One with a dummy in its mouth. When you pull it out it begins to cry. They’re all the rage now, every little girl has one. But you’ve got a grandson, so you won’t have seen them. But I have. They wail just like a real baby. Sounds like something out of a Hitchcock film. Anyway. She also had a nightie in the pram and a small bag with a toothbrush and comb. No sign of any of it.’
‘Missing since …?’
‘Eight o’clock.’
‘Eight?’ Sejer glanced at the clock. It was eleven.
‘Ragnhild wanted to return home just after they woke up this morning. The mother of her friend didn’t ring Ragnhild’s mother to say she was coming. She was still in bed herself. But she heard the girls getting up, and Ragnhild leaving at about eight. She went on her own, it wasn’t far, and the mother knew no more about it till Ragnhild’s mother rang at ten and asked her to send the girl home. They were going shopping. Now she’s completely vanished.’
‘She lives – where?’
‘In Fagerlundsåsen, Lundeby. The new estate. They’ve just moved into the area.’
Sejer drummed on his map-of-the-world blotting pad. His hand covered the whole of the South American continent. ‘You and I’d better get off there.’
‘We’ve already sent a patrol car.’
‘I’ll talk to Magnus first. Then at least that’ll be over. Let the parents know we’re on our way, but don’t give them a time.’
‘The mother. The father’s away, they can’t get hold of him.’ Karlsen pushed back his chair and stood up.
‘By the way, how did you get on with those tights for your wife?’
Karlsen looked startled.
‘Pantyliners,’ Sejer said by way of explanation.
‘They weren’t tights, Konrad. Pantyliners are things women wear at a certain time of the month.’
He left, and Sejer chewed his nail as he felt an incipient nervousness grow in his stomach.
He didn’t like it when six-year-old girls failed to arrive home when expected. Even though he knew there could be lots of reasons for it. Everything from divorced fathers demonstrating proprietorial rights, to homeless puppies that needed coaxing back home, or thoughtless older children who took them out without letting anyone know. Sometimes the kids were asleep in some bush or other, thumb in mouth. Not so many six-year-olds perhaps, but it had certainly happened with two- and three-year-olds. Sometimes they simply got lost, and wandered around hour after hour. Some began to bawl immediately, and got picked up. Others kept walking, speechless with fear without attracting notice. At least the roads were quiet at eight o’clock in the morning, he thought, and felt easier.
He did up the top button of his shirt and rose. He reached for his jacket, too, as if the fabric could protect him from what was to come. Then he walked down the corridor. The morning light gave it a greenish hue reminding him of the old swimming baths he’d used as a boy.
The remand cells were on the fifth floor. He took the lift and felt a trifle idiotic as he always did, standing there passive inside the small cage which travelled up and down the building. It was too fast, as well. Things ought to take their allotted time. He felt he arrived too soon. Suddenly he was standing in front of the cell door. For a moment he wanted to resist the temptation to peer in first, but he couldn’t. When he looked through the window he could see her sitting on the bunk with the blanket around her. She was staring through the window where a small patch of grey sky was visible. She started when she heard the rattle of the lock.
‘I can’t bear this waiting!’ she said.
He nodded as if he understood.
‘I’m expecting Dad. They were going to fetch him. My solicitor rang, they’re collecting him in a taxi. I don’t know why it’s taking such a long time, it’s only half an hour’s drive.’
Sejer remained standing. There wasn’t anywhere to sit. Sitting on the bunk next to her was too intimate. ‘You’ll have to get used to the waiting, there’ll be a lot of that in the future.’
‘I’m not used to it. I’m used to doing things all the time, I’m used to the day never being long enough and used to Emma always nagging and wanting something. It’s so quiet here,’ she said in despair.
‘Take some good advice. Try to sleep at night. Try to eat something. Things will be too tough otherwise.’
‘Why are you here anyway?’ She looked at him, suddenly suspicious.
‘There’s something you ought to know.’ He walked a few paces and prepared himself. ‘As regards your case, and the sentence, it may not be that important. But in certain other respects it could be rather hard.’
‘I don’t understand what you …’
‘We’ve received various reports from forensics.’
‘Well?’
‘Both about Maja Durban and Egil Einarsson. They’ve been conducting a number of tests. And they’ve discovered something, which for you, is rather unpleasant.’
‘Well, tell me then!’
‘Maja Durban was asphyxiated by the murderer pressing a pillow to her face.’
‘Yes, that was what I said. I sat there watching.’
‘But before that they had sex. And that gives us a number of very concrete clues as to the identity of the murderer. And the fact is,’ he drew in his breath, ‘that the man wasn’t Einarsson.’
Eva sat staring at him. Her face was impassive. Then she smiled.
‘Mrs Magnus,’ he went on, ‘the fact is you’ve killed the wrong man.’
She shook her head emphatically and spread her arms, the smile was still there, but it was slowly congealing. ‘Excuse me, but I’m certain about that car. Jostein and I, we had one just like it!’
‘Please, just forget the car for a moment. Maybe you’re right about that. But in that case it wasn’t Einarsson wh
o was driving.’
A sudden doubt assailed her. ‘He never lent it to anyone,’ she stammered.
‘He may have made an exception. Or someone may have borrowed it without his permission.’
‘It’s not true!’
‘How much did you really witness? You were peering through a narrow crack in a door that was ajar. The room was in semi-darkness. Weren’t you sitting with your hands in front of your face for much of the time?’
‘I want you to go,’ she sobbed.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said feebly.
‘How long have you known this?’
‘Some time.’
‘Find out where Dad is!’
‘They’ll certainly be on their way. Try to rest a bit, you’ll need it.’ He waited there, feeling as if he wanted to rush out, but he controlled himself. ‘The crime itself is the same,’ he said.
‘No!’
‘Legally what matters is that you thought it was him.’
‘No! I want you to be wrong.’
‘Sometimes we are. But not this time.’
For a long time she sat with her face hidden, then she looked up at him. ‘Once when we were thirteen …’
‘Yes?’ Sejer waited.
‘D’you think it’s possible to die of fright?’
He shrugged. ‘I’d imagine so. But only if you were old and had a bad heart. Why?’
‘No, nothing.’
There was silence for a while. She brushed her forehead with her hand and glanced quickly at her wrist, and only then remembered that they’d removed her watch.
‘But if it wasn’t Einarsson – who was it?’
‘That’s what I’m going to find out. Possibly one of Einarsson’s acquaintances.’
‘Find out what’s happened to my father.’
‘I’ll do that.’ He went to the door, opened it and turned. ‘You mustn’t worry so much about us looking at you through the window. It’s only to make sure that you’re all right. We’re not peeping Toms.’
‘It feels like it.’
‘Pull the blanket over your head. Try to remember that you’re only one of many in here. You’re not as special as you feel. It’s only outside these walls that you become an object of interest, isn’t it?’
‘You can say that again.’
‘You’ll be hearing from me.’
He closed the door and locked it.
Rosenkrantzgate 16 was newly painted and greener than ever.
He parked by the garage, and was just stepping out of the car when he caught sight of Jan Henry over by the swings. For a moment the boy waited a little shyly, then he came padding across.
‘I didn’t think you’d come again.’
‘I said I would. How’s it going?’
‘Not too bad.’ He shrugged his thin shoulders and twined his legs.
‘Is Mum at home?’
‘Yes.’
‘Have you had any good rides? On the motorbike?’
‘Yes. But your car was better. The wind is so strong,’ he added.
‘Wait out here for me, Jan Henry, I’ve got something for you.’
Sejer walked towards the entrance, and the boy sat down on the swing again. Jorun Einarsson answered the door, she was wearing nothing except long johns, or perhaps they passed for tights, he thought, with a roomy sweater over them. Her hair was lighter than ever.
‘Oh, it’s you, is it?’
He nodded politely. She immediately stood back and let him in. He halted in the living room, drew breath and looked at her earnestly.
‘Right now I’ve got just one question. I’ll put it to you and leave again straight away. Think carefully before you answer, it’s important.’
She nodded.
‘I know that your husband was extremely particular about his car. He took great care of it and kept it in thoroughly good condition. And that he was very unwilling to lend it to anyone. Is that correct?’
‘I’ll say! He was really possessive about that car. Sometimes they’d even tease him about it at work.’
‘But even so, on rare occasions, did he ever lend it to anyone? Do you ever remember him doing it? Even if it was only the once?’
She hesitated: ‘Yes, he did occasionally. But only very rarely. To one of his mates who he hung out with quite a lot, someone from the brewery. He hadn’t got a car himself.’
‘D’you know his name?’
‘Er, well I feel a bit funny about mentioning his name here,’ she said, as if she sensed a danger she didn’t fully understand. ‘But he lent it to Peddik now and again. Peter Fredrik.’
‘Ahron?’
‘Yes.’
Sejer nodded slowly. He took another look at the wedding photo of Einarsson and noted his fair hair. ‘I’ll be back,’ he said softly. ‘You’ll have to forgive me, but cases like these take a lot of time and there are still some things we need to clear up.’
Mrs Einarsson nodded and showed him out. Jan Henry jumped up and came running towards him, keener now.
‘That didn’t take long.’
‘No,’ Sejer said thoughtfully. ‘There’s a man I’ve got to find, and quickly too. Come over to the car with me.’
He opened the boot and took out a carrier bag from Fina. ‘A mechanic’s suit. For you. I know it’s too large, but you’ll grow into it.’
‘Wow!’ His eyes were sparkling. ‘Loads of pockets! It’ll fit me soon, and I can turn it up.’
‘That’s right.’
‘When are you coming back?’
‘I won’t be long.’
‘No. I expect you’ve got lots to do.’
‘Well, yes. But I’m also off duty sometimes. Perhaps we could take another drive sometime, if you want to?’
Jan Henry made no reply. He was staring down the road, to where the roar of a large motorbike had broken the silence. A BMW.
‘There’s Peddik.’
Jan Henry gave him a lukewarm wave. Sejer turned and stared at the man in the black leather suit as he nosed in by the cycle stand, stopped and took off his helmet. A man with longish fair hair and a small ponytail at his neck. Now he was opening the zip of his leathers so that an incipient beer belly came into view. In reality he wasn’t that unlike Einarsson. In poor light one might not be able to tell the difference.
Sejer stared at him until he began to squirm on the seat of the motorbike. Then he smiled, gave a brief nod and went to his car.
Chapter 34
‘WHERE HAVE YOU been?’
Karlsen was waiting in reception. He had been looking out for Sejer’s car for some time now, minutes were passing and no one had phoned with the glad tidings that little Ragnhild had come home long ago and was fit and well. She was still lost. Karlsen was stressed.
‘With Jorun Einarsson.’ Sejer was tense and excited, which was unusual. ‘Come on, I’ve got to talk to you.’
They nodded to Mrs Brenningen and retreated down the corridor.
‘We need to bring in a bloke for questioning,’ Sejer said, ‘straight away. Peter Fredrik Ahron. The only person in Einarsson’s circle who occasionally was allowed to borrow his Manta. Very occasionally. He works at the brewery, and now he’s chasing after Jorun. He’s been interviewed before, when Einarsson went missing. I’ve just met him outside the house in Rosenkrantzgate, and d’you know what? They look pretty similar. In poor light it would be hard to tell them apart. See what I mean?’
‘Where is he now?’
‘Still at the house, I hope. Album will have to wait, we’ve got people on that anyway. Take Skarre and bring him in straight away, I’ll wait here.’
Karlsen nodded and turned to go. Then he stopped. ‘By the way, I’ve got a message for you from Eva’s solicitor.’
‘Yes?’
‘Larsgård’s dead.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘The taxi driver found him.’
‘Does she know yet?’
‘I’ve sent one of the girls in to her.’
Sejer shut h
is eyes and shook his head. He walked up the stairs digesting the news as best he could, just now he hadn’t time to think more carefully about what it would mean for the remand prisoner on the fifth floor. He shut himself in his office, opened the window and let in some fresh air. Tidied the desk a bit. Went quickly to the sink and washed his hands, drank some water from a paper cup. Opened the file drawer and took out a cassette, it was 360 minutes long and contained Eva Magnus’s confession. He loaded it in the cassette player on the desk, and began fast-forwarding it. He stopped it now and then, fast-forwarded a bit more and found the episode he was searching for at last, he paused the tape and adjusted the volume. Then he settled down to wait and his thoughts began to wander. Perhaps Ahron had made a run for it, he mused, in which case he might already be a long way off on that fast motorbike of his. But he hadn’t. He was sitting reading the newspaper on Jorun’s sofa, a pouch of tobacco at his side. She was in the middle of the room with an ironing board and a pile of freshly laundered clothes. She looked uncertainly at the two policemen and then at the man on the sofa, who contented himself with raising a single eyebrow, as if they were taking him in at a most inconvenient moment. He rose from the sofa with apparent resignation and followed them out. Jan Henry watched them as they walked to the car. He said nothing. It mattered little to him what they were going to do with Peddik.