Inborn

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Inborn Page 26

by Thomas Enger


  ‘Which is why we need to search it immediately. We need to get back to Fredheim, too. As soon as possible. Tobias can wait.’

  Yngve found an exit from the road. ‘Just think about it,’ he went on. ‘Imo’s leather gloves, which happened to go missing on the night of the school show. He was quick to let us know, wasn’t he? So we would rule him out. And when I woke Even on the night Børre Halvorsen had been killed, Imo was still up. He hadn’t gone to sleep.’

  ‘He was working, wasn’t he?’

  ‘That’s what he said. And Even had passed out from drinking.’

  ‘Doesn’t Imo usually stay up all night working in his studio?’ Therese argued. ‘I think I read a piece about him in the Fredheim Chronicle a few months ago. “The Man and His Music” or whatever it was called.’

  ‘I guess that’s part of his routine, yes.’

  ‘So he could, in theory, have been working.’

  ‘He could, in theory, have killed Børre Halvorsen, too.’ Yngve was clinging on to the steering wheel.

  ‘But if he knew that the door on the first floor was open, why didn’t he use it? Why go through the trouble of climbing onto the roof and all that? It’s not an easy climb for anyone, especially in the rain.’

  ‘He was being smart,’ Yngve said. ‘Tic-Tac was the only other person who knew about the door being open. By using it he would have pointed the finger at himself. And he would have had blood on him, too, after killing Johannes, so he probably would have had a hard time not smudging the door or the doorframe or whatever. Keep in mind how he left marks all over the place on the second floor. By going out over the roof he kept the suspicions away from himself.’

  Therese winced a little, holding her belly. ‘We still don’t have a motive for any of this,’ she said.

  ‘I know,’ Yngve said and floored the accelator. ‘We’ll get to that.’

  77

  It had begun to get dark by the time I got to Imo’s house. The unsurfaced road leading to the farm and the house itself was surrounded by forest, which made it even darker. The noise of the traffic on the main road faded behind me.

  Imo’s Mercedes was parked outside the house, as usual, but there was another car there too. I was pretty sure it belonged to Ole. I was right: I looked through one of the windows and spotted an umbrella with the Fredheim Chronicle logo on it.

  I leaned my bike against the house wall and asked myself why Ole couldn’t have helped Imo with whatever task he needed me for. Or maybe he’d arrived after Imo called me.

  The door was closed, and there was no light on in the kitchen. But it was on in the studio, and I heard music coming out from the open door. It was Imo playing the guitar. I could tell. I recognised the song, too. It was Johannes’ solo – the song Imo had written for the school show. The show-stopper. I called my uncle’s name.

  ‘Come on in, champ,’ he yelled back.

  I stuck my head round the door. Imo was sitting in a leather chair. ‘Come on in,’ he repeated, as he continued to play. ‘It’s a great song, isn’t it?’

  ‘It is.’

  Imo was singing the lyrics very quietly – almost to himself. ‘I wrote it a long time ago,’ he said. ‘Before you were born, in fact.’

  I was a little taken aback.

  ‘Where’s Ole?’ I asked.

  Imo didn’t answer, he just closed his eyes, as though he was enjoying his own music. His fingers danced back and forth, up and down the strings.

  ‘What do you need my help for?’ I asked.

  ‘Your mum’s choir sang this back in the day.’ Imo still had his eyes shut – as though he hadn’t even heard my question.

  I looked out of the window to see if there were any signs of Ole. ‘Imo, where’s—?’

  ‘Shhh,’ he interrupted. ‘This is the best part.’ Then he started on the chorus. His voice was a bit louder.

  When the chorus was finished, he stopped and opened his eyes. ‘Your mother had a great voice,’ he said. ‘I don’t know if you remember. Don’t think she’s sung much in recent years.’

  Imo looked at me. For a long time. He seemed … tired. Sad, even. I had never seen my uncle like this before. It worried me.

  ‘You know all this will be yours one day, right?’ He threw his arms wide.

  ‘Mine?’ I asked. ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘The studio, the house, the farm. Your brother’s not really the type to look after pigs. Or a house, for that matter. Who knows what will become of that kid.’

  I didn’t know what to say. It certainly wasn’t like Imo to be talking like this. Was he dying or something?

  He stood up and put down his guitar. ‘I wrote that song for your mother,’ he said. ‘Not long before she met your dad.’

  I stared at him. ‘You wrote it for Mum?’

  He nodded.

  ‘But…’ My thoughts went off in all kinds of directions. The lyrics of the song were bouncing back and forth in my head. Everyone had thought the song was a declaration of love for Fredheim.

  Imo took a step closer. I thought of the talk we’d had a couple of days before, when I’d asked him if there had ever been a special someone in his life.

  Of course there has.

  So what happened?

  Nothing. That was the problem. She didn’t want me, so…

  It was Mum who’d been Imo’s great love. I couldn’t believe it.

  ‘She didn’t want you after Dad died either?’ I asked with a wobble in my voice. I couldn’t breathe properly.

  Imo didn’t answer immediately. Then he shook his head.

  ‘Did you ever tell her?’

  ‘Oh yes,’ he said. ‘Several times. Maybe not straight to her face, but … I’m sure she knew.’

  I didn’t know what to make of all this. It was too much in one day.

  ‘Jimmy wasn’t particularly nice to your mother, Even.’

  ‘No, I know that now,’ I said. ‘I’ve…’

  I stopped. Should I say it? I had to. It was killing me to keep this secret to myself.

  ‘I’ve just discovered that Mari was my half-sister.’

  Imo shot a look at me. He seemed to be thinking for a quick moment, then said: ‘So you’ve found out, too.’ Imo shook his head, before saying: ‘Ole Hoff had as well. Well, he would have anyway. Sooner or later.’

  For a minute there, I had completely forgotten about Ole. The fact that his car was outside, but Ole himself was nowhere to be seen, worried me.

  ‘For over ten years,’ Imo continued, ‘your mother and Ole thought it was Julia, Ole’s wife, who’d had an affair with Jimmy. She didn’t. It was Cecilie.’

  ‘But…?’

  ‘It’s silly, really,’ Imo continued. ‘I had decided to switch lead singer on one of the songs we were doing. “Pie Jesu” by Andrew Lloyd Webber. Ever heard it?’

  ‘No’.

  ‘Ah, Even,’ Imo said. ‘It’s one of the most beautiful songs you’ll ever hear. Makes me cry every single time.’

  ‘Imo, what’s this got to do with—?’

  ‘Susanne found those sheets of music with Julia’s name on them in the backseat of her car. They weren’t hers, though – because I’d switched the roles around. Instead of printing a new set of notes for Cecilie, I just gave her Julia’s. And that started ten years of agony and heartache.’

  I didn’t know what to say.

  ‘So Ole didn’t know about Cecilie?’ I asked.

  ‘No.’

  ‘He didn’t think to ask his wife about it?’

  ‘He did,’ Imo said. ‘Today. They had lunch together or something. He finally manned up.’

  ‘But why didn’t he do it before? Like, ten years ago?’

  ‘He was afraid to. He was scared of the truth. Besides, Jimmy died that day, so he thought all his problems were solved. Whoosh – like that. They could go on with their lives as if nothing had happened. He thought he’d let sleeping dogs lie, so to speak, so he just decided to forget about it.’

  ‘Until he
couldn’t any longer.’

  ‘Yes. What’s happened this week has brought it all back, I guess. Running into your mother again like he did.’

  I was still struggling to see where this conversation was going.

  ‘So Julia hadn’t cheated on him?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Jesus.’

  ‘Ole wanted to see if I knew about any of this, so he called me.’

  ‘He called you from Solstad?’

  Imo looked at me quizzically. I explained how I knew Ole had been there.

  ‘I don’t know where he called me from. It’s not important. We talked for a while, then agreed to meet up here to have a coffee and a chat – face to face is always better with things like that.’

  I was getting more and more confused.

  ‘He got here before. I think that’s why he decided to have a little snoop.’

  ‘A snoop?’

  ‘A little look around. And that’s when he discovered that.’

  Imo nodded towards one of the walls in his studio. And there, on the floor, was Johannes’ microphone case.

  78

  ‘Imo,’ I said. ‘What the fuck?’

  ‘Mari would never have managed to keep it a secret,’ Imo said. ‘The fact that you were half-siblings. And if your mum found out that Jimmy had another child, too, who’d been conceived when they were married … I don’t think she would have dealt with that especially well. It would have destroyed her.’

  He sat down and shook his head. ‘I couldn’t let that happen. I couldn’t let your mother go through that, on top of everything else she’d already had to deal with. And I certainly can’t let that happen now, after Tobias…’ He stopped himself again.

  I closed my eyes.

  No, I said to myself. No, no, no.

  ‘I want you to know, Even, that I never wanted any of this to happen. I tried to convince Mari to let it all lie, but then she split up with you – obviously, because she discovered you both had the same father. But she knew you would never just accept it without a decent explanation, so…’

  ‘So it’s my fault, is that what you’re saying?’ I shouted. There were tears in my eyes.

  ‘No, no,’ he said quickly, hands raised apologetically in front of him. ‘Not at all. You’re not to blame for any of this. You just fell in love with the wrong girl – you can’t decide things like that. It’s like me – I wish I had fallen in love with someone other than your mother. But the heart does what the heart wants.’

  I balled up my fists, and before I knew what I was doing, I’d punched him in the face.

  Imo staggered backwards, straight into the mixing desk. Blood started to trickle from his nose, but he didn’t make a sound, just held on to the desk and tried to steady himself.

  ‘Come on,’ he said, and wiped some blood off his face. ‘Get it all out. You can punch me as much as you like. I know I deserve it.’

  I was just about to let loose, when something pulled me back. The thought of Ole Hoff being here somewhere, that Imo had the microphone case and that he had called me because he needed help with … something.

  ‘Tell me what happened,’ I said, my voice shaking. ‘Tell me everything.’

  Imo wiped the blood from the corners of his mouth then rubbed his fingers on his jacket. ‘I’d taken all the equipment out to the car, and, as usual, none of the others had bothered to take one of the drum sets to the music room after the show, so I had to do that as well.’ He rolled his eyes slightly. ‘Mari was just getting ready to go when I came in. She’d finished her interview with Johannes.’ He shook his head. ‘We talked about the show for a minute. The song. She said she’d never heard anything so beautiful.’ The memory brought a smile to his face. ‘But you weren’t the only one who wondered why she’d split up with you,’ he continued. ‘I wanted to know, too. So I asked her.’

  He paused before continuing. ‘To begin with, she didn’t want to say anything. I said she couldn’t hide from you forever. I asked if she wanted me to tell you anything – something that might help explain what had happened. And … it was like she gave up then and there. Like she couldn’t bear to keep it inside any longer. She sighed and seemed to … implode. Then she sat down. I did, too.’

  Imo started talking faster now. ‘She told me what she’d discovered about Jimmy and her mum. That she’d found out she was your half-sister. The very thought of it made her sick, but she knew that she would never be able to keep the truth from you. It would come out somehow, she said, and she was tired of trying to hide, tired of keeping secrets. She had decided to tell you the next day.’

  I looked down and knitted my fingers together.

  ‘I told Mari that she couldn’t do that. For Susanne’s sake – but also for everyone else’s. For her own parents’ sake too. And that’s when she told me that they already knew about it, that their marriage was probably over as a result. But even though they were unlikely to tell their neighbours and the rest of Fredheim, Mari wouldn’t be able to keep the truth from you. Not in the long run. So … I…’ Imo paused for a long time. And it’s as if the world paused with him.

  ‘I had to stop her.’

  Imo paused again. I don’t know how long for.

  ‘I never intended for it to happen, Even. I just grabbed her as she got up to leave. She started to struggle with me, and before I knew what I was doing, I had my hands around her neck.’ He lowered his head. ‘And then … she just collapsed in my arms.’

  He let out a heavy sigh. ‘I tried to resuscitate her, but of course, I couldn’t. And that’s when Johannes appeared in the doorway.’

  I swallowed again.

  Imo took a deep breath. ‘He’d left his phone behind. He looked at me, and he looked at Mari. And then he ran. I had to make sure that he couldn’t tell anyone what he’d seen. What choice did I have?’

  ‘So you beat him to death with his own microphone case.’

  Imo didn’t reply, but then again he didn’t need to.

  I shook my head. I wanted to punch him again.

  Imo seemed to read my thoughts. ‘Come on then,’ he said. ‘I want you to get all your anger out, because you’re going to have to make a decision soon. A big, important decision.’

  My fists were still clenched, and there was blood on the knuckles of my right hand. I didn’t feel any pain, any sting. Just anger.

  ‘What are you talking about?’ I snarled.

  Imo straightened up. ‘You can go to the police, and you can tell them everything I’ve just told you. And then it’s over. But before you do that, Even, I want you to think carefully about the consequences. Do you think your mother will be able to live with the fact that she’s one of the reasons for all this? I’ve been trying to protect her. That’s all I’ve done.’

  Before I could answer, he continued: ‘She would never cope, Even. She would drink herself to death, I’m sure of it. And how do you think your brother would react? He’s just tried to commit suicide. Without your mother, without me … are you going to look after him for the rest of your life?’

  He looked at me. ‘Your family will be destroyed, Even. And if you decide to go to the police, it’s you who will have to live with that. Or … you can consider the alternative.’

  He waited a beat before continuing.

  ‘Ole is the only one who’s seen the microphone case. He hasn’t had the time to go to the police yet, so apart from you, he’s the only one who can give me away.’

  I put my hands to my face. Now I knew what he needed my help for. Why he had wanted me to come. Why he had told me all this.

  He wanted me to help him get rid of Ole Hoff.

  He wanted me to be his partner in crime.

  He pointed at the microphone case. Only now did I see that a pair of gloves were sitting on the floor next to it. Of course. He hadn’t lost them after all.

  I was struggling to understand how the person in front of me – a man who’d been like a father to me for all these days, my friend all this time, to
o – could suddenly be so cold and calculating. Where did this instinct for murder come from? How did he know how to get away with it? It all seemed so cool and professional. I couldn’t speak or move.

  ‘So it was you who killed Børre as well?’ I said at last.

  He didn’t answer.

  ‘Why did you do it?’

  ‘We haven’t got time for that now,’ he said.

  ‘Yes, we do.’

  ‘No,’ Imo said, emphatically. ‘We don’t. I’ve got a singing lesson here shortly, and you and I have to have everything done by then. And afterwards we’ll have to act as normally as possible.’ He stopped for breath. ‘In other words, it’s time for you to choose, Even. What happens next is entirely up to you. If you choose to help me, you also choose your mother, your brother, your family. Or you can throw it all away. You need to ask yourself something, Even: what is most important to you?’

  He put his hands on my shoulders. I didn’t have the energy to push him away, even though I wanted to.

  ‘All this will go away, if you just help me with this last little thing.’

  He waited until I met his eyes.

  ‘Ole will not be the one to tell the police,’ he said.

  It was impossible to hold back my tears. I couldn’t believe that Imo was forcing me to make such an impossible choice. To make this decision at all.

  ‘All this will go away,’ he said. ‘And I know that you’re strong enough to deal with it. You’re strong enough to see the bigger picture. To know what we have to do.’

  ‘So you … think I should just keep my mouth shut about what you’ve done for the rest of my life?’ My tears were streaming now.

  ‘That’s exactly what I think, yes.’

  I shook my head. ‘I can’t. I won’t be able to do that.’

  Imo felt the bruise on his cheek, looked at his red finger, then his eyes pierced right through mine.

  ‘How do you think everyone will react when they find out that Jimmy was Mari’s dad?’

  I shook my head – I didn’t understand.

  ‘What if someone out there starts to think that your dad’s accident wasn’t an accident at all?’ Imo continued.’ That it was your mother who lost it in the car that day? What if that rumour starts to spread?’

 

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