Synne pressed a hand against her stomach. Suddenly the nausea was there again. And beneath it the exhaustion that threatened to take over completely and wipe out all the thoughts she had brought there with her. She felt she had to get up from the chair and go out into the spring light before it was too late. Instead she said: – I want you to read this.
She laid the printout on the table. How Karsten died, she thought, didn’t dare say it out loud.
Elsa leaned forward and picked up the sheets of paper. Synne watched her as she read, saw a different expression appear in her eyes, more anger than sorrow now.
– This was sent to you by someone who hates Adrian, she said once she had put it down again.
– You know who wrote this? Synne exclaimed.
Elsa picked up the teapot, went out to the kitchen, came back and refilled her cup. – You’ve met Khalid Chadar, she said.
Synne had had enough of the bitter drink but couldn’t bring herself to say no.
– He lived at Stornes for a year, Elsa went on. – Then he was thrown out.
She began telling a different version of the story Synne had heard from Khalid. It was like the reverse of the same tapestry, all the loose threads hanging there making the motif unrecognisable. Synne sipped at her three-year tea and heard about the horses, the stables, about a man named Tord Hammer who was engaged to Elsa’s sister. But mostly about the handsome chieftain’s son from a country far away in the east.
She had forced down another couple of sips by the time Elsa was finished.
– There I was, sixteen years old and pregnant. Nobody had ever brought such shame to the family before.
– Surely Adrian isn’t …?
Elsa laughed briefly. – You can rest assured he is not. Adrian has an older half-brother. His name is Kai.
Synne was surprised. – Isn’t he Adrian’s cousin?
Elsa shook her head and topped up her teacup. – Kai would do anything at all to hurt his brother. I had to keep him away from Adrian at all times. I looked after him, gave him something to live for. But I couldn’t save his soul. It was eaten up by hatred. You can see that for yourself. She pointed to the sheets of paper still lying on the table. – Slowly eaten up.
She got up, stood there looking out of the window.
– I know how difficult this has been, Synne. To lose a brother. Let me tell you something.
She opened the curtains wide. In the sharp evening light a rim of grey was visible at the roots of her hair.
– Let me tell you about the greatest day of my life. The day Adrian was born. The instant he came out, all my pains disappeared. His little voice, not weak, not screeching. It had an undertone, a depth that sang out through the dark room. The sky outside was crystal clear. A star twinkled high above the hill. It started to grow, and in the darkness was the sound of voices, at first an indistinct chanting, but then suddenly I was able to understand them. This is your son, Elsa. To whom you have given birth. His name shall be Adrian. And he shall change the world. Your task is to do everything in your power to help him.
She turned. There was an intense glow in her eyes.
– I’ve got something that a great many people are looking for. A reason to be here. I gave birth to Adrian. It is not I who gave him life, but I who was chosen to be the instrument of his coming. Adrian has powers that only a very few are able to comprehend. Even those who admire him have only the vaguest idea of who he really is.
Synne froze. – Adrian might have gifts, she said in a low voice. – But surely you can’t mean that gives him the right to—
Elsa cut her off with a wave of the hand. – Different rules apply for Adrian than for other people. That’s what you don’t see. Not yet.
Synne felt something descending over her head, a tiredness that came not from inside but from somewhere in the room. She couldn’t hold back any more.
– Don’t you realise that Adrian is dangerous? She tried to pick up the pages from the table. – Do you still not understand what he did?
Elsa shook her head. – You really believe that something scribbled by a sick man is proof of anything at all?
– But Adrian said the same thing in the car, that it was him who—
– Adrian is the type who protects others, Elsa interrupted. – Even those who don’t deserve it. She turned away. – A failed abortion, she murmured. – The harder I tried to get rid of it, the harder it held on.
Synne blinked in confusion. – There are pictures of what he did to Karsten. They’re on my computer.
– Have you seen them?
– Can’t manage to open them, not yet.
Elsa crossed the floor slowly, stood directly opposite her.
– Last time you were here, we agreed that I would help you try to get deeper into the things you can’t remember.
Synne had been there too long. She should never have come. She tried to stand up, but it felt as though her body was that of some great animal that lay sweating in the shadows.
– Come with me. Elsa walked round the table, helped her to her feet. – I told you there was a more direct method of remembering. Now you’re ready to try it.
She led Synne across the floor, opened a door. – Recognise where you are?
The stairs were much too steep.
– Not down there, Synne snuffled.
– This is important. I want to know what you remember too.
She clung tight to the banister, Elsa holding on to her other arm.
– I’m so tired. Was it the tea?
The ceiling was low, the room dark. A TV in one corner, a table next to a sofa, something lying on it: the embroidery she had seen in the living room last time she was there, and in a basket a set of needles and a pair of scissors.
She slumped down on to the sofa. – I don’t think I’m up to this now.
– Yes, you can do it. Elsa pulled a chair over to the sofa. – Breathe deeply and calmly. Feel how your breath fills you up completely, feel yourself letting it go.
Synne felt unable to resist.
– It doesn’t matter if you’re tired. Follow my finger with your eyes. She began to move a finger from side to side in front of Synne’s face. – Just keep watching. Let everything else go. Feel how heavy your hands are becoming.
It felt as though the topmost joints of her fingers were filled with lead. The weight spread into her hands, and from there up her arms.
– Raise your right hand.
Synne tried; it flopped down on to the armrest again. – What did you give me?
– Don’t let any thoughts disturb you, just keep looking at my finger. You are awake, you are not falling asleep, you are here, you are safe as long as you stay with me.
– I am not falling asleep, Synne murmured.
– We’re going back to that evening. Nod three times if you want to follow me there.
Synne felt herself nodding.
– You came here.
– I came here.
– You hide your bike behind the garage so that no one will see it.
– I hide my bike. Ring the bell. Adrian opens, gives me a hug.
– What do you feel inside at this moment?
– How many people in the whole world do I know who say they’re happy to see me? But Adrian was a prince.
Elsa nodded. – Adrian is a prince.
– He brings me down here into the basement. It’s warm here, there’s a big mirror on the wall. He goes upstairs, comes back down with a Coke and two glasses.
– Adrian cares about others. He’ll always help people who are suffering.
– Go over there and stand in front of the mirror, Synne, he says. Look at yourself. Can you see how pretty you are? Yeah, right. You’d have to be blind not to see it, he says. He sits down on the sofa, right here. A girl as pretty as you shouldn’t be wearing so many clothes.
– That is not what he says, Elsa interrupts. – Concentrate now, follow my finger, don’t fall asleep.
– You are l
ovely, Synne, says Adrian. I’m not, I’m fat and ugly. I’ve never seen anyone like you. It’s warm in here. Isn’t it? It’s much too warm to have all these clothes on. Just the pullover. I can’t take my blouse off.
Synne blinked, noticed that the weight had reached her eyelids. – I stand by the mirror, take off my clothes. He sits on the sofa, watching me. And then he begins to take his clothes off too.
– Now you’re lying, Synne. You’re making this up about the clothes. Anything you can’t remember you make up.
– He gets up and comes over towards me, and my whole body starts to tremble. Karsten!
– Why are you shouting that?
– The door is slung open, suddenly Karsten’s there. I fall over. Lie on the floor, trying to reach a hand out towards him. He’s furious. He goes up to Adrian. Adrian holds him back, gets him on the ground. Adrian said he hit him. He didn’t. He didn’t hit him. Someone shouts to him, and he lets Karsten go.
Elsa stopped her. – This did not happen, Synne. Repeat after me: This did not happen.
Synne’s eyes flickered as she tried to concentrate on the outlines of the face in the semi-darkness of the room. – This did not happen.
– Repeat after me: I am not naked.
– I am not naked.
– Repeat after me. Another man comes in. His name is Kai.
– His name is Kai, Synne says.
– What happens next?
– Someone’s sitting near the sofa, talking to me.
– Kai is there, said Elsa. – Repeat what I say.
– I don’t know any Kai. There isn’t anyone here called Kai.
Elsa leaned over her, whispered into her ear. – Who is there?
– Someone asking me to stay calm. Someone who gives me a pill and a glass of water, tells me to swallow it. Synne opened her eyes. – You are there, you’ve come home.
Elsa stared at her. – So now suddenly you remember that. She stands up straight. – Yes, I came back home. I was too ill to finish the rest of the course. Do you think that was sheer chance?
Synne tried to lift a hand; it didn’t move.
– Someone shouts, she murmured. – It’s Karsten. Calm down now, says Adrian. He puts his shirt back on. I’ll drive you home, he says. And we’ll take your sister too. She needs help.
– Adrian wanted to help you, Elsa whispered. – Do you understand?
– I’m not going home, Karsten shouts. I’m going to the police station. Fine, says Adrian, then I’ll drive you there first.
Synne didn’t dare to meet Elsa’s gaze; she had to look away.
– You take the car keys from him. I’ll drive Karsten, you say to Adrian. I can talk to him in the car. It helps to talk things through.
Sleep was enveloping her now, but Synne forced herself to stay awake.
– You got into the car, she went on. – Karsten hugged me, helped me into the seat, said he wouldn’t leave me. You are the person driving the car. Adrian isn’t there.
Elsa’s face was now so close that Synne could no longer see it.
– There’s no helping someone like you, she said loudly. – You’re making things up even now.
– I’m lying in the back seat. It’s cold. Karsten is in the front. Not this way, he says. Don’t you understand anything, we’re going to the police. He is still very angry. One of your sons is a pyromaniac. He tried to kill me after I found out. He’s holding something in his hand, a plastic bag, he tosses it into your lap. But Adrian is even worse, he shouts, he’s a fucking paedo.
All of a sudden Elsa started screaming in her ear, her voice penetrating through layer upon layer of fuzziness.
– Yes, I hit him, over and over again, and I’ve never regretted it for one moment. He was going to destroy my son. Karsten was an instrument, do you understand? His role was to destroy. Adrian protects people. I called him from the car and he was there within a few minutes and took care of everything. Everyone who comes near Adrian has been attracted to him. Including you, of course. You were head over heels in love with him. You called him. You came over here. And you haven’t the faintest idea why.
Synne shook her head.
– Because your part was to be the temptress. You couldn’t do anything about it. You have no idea of the forces that move you along.
– I was thirteen years old, Synne whispered.
– I was thirteen years old, Elsa mimicked. – As if that mattered. You knew exactly what you wanted and how you hoped to get it. And then these attacks, so you didn’t have to take responsibility afterwards.
Synne sank even further down into the sofa. – I’m not like that.
– That is exactly what you are like. Slutty, and seductive. You’re still doing everything you can to try to get Adrian to want you. With every word, Elsa tapped her index finger on the tabletop. – He laughed at you, tried to keep you at arm’s length, but you wouldn’t give up. You came here of your own free will, isn’t that so?
– I was thirteen years old.
– You can say what you like, no one will believe you.
The words sank deep inside her. No one would believe her. And in that case she would never be able to believe herself.
– The pictures, she groaned. – I have the pictures.
She shouldn’t have said it, but she couldn’t stop herself either.
– The police want to see them. The inspector’s name is Viken, I remember that now.
Elsa grabbed her by the hair and pulled her up.
– That is not going to happen. There is nothing in the world that can stop Adrian becoming what he is meant to be. There’s no way a person like you could ever understand that.
She picked something up from the table.
– You think it was just chance there was a hammer in the car? Nothing happens by chance. Every grain of sand on every beach has been put there for a purpose.
She grabbed Synne by the throat, raised her hand. Synne could see she was holding the scissors, but she couldn’t move. She heard footsteps on the stairs – maybe they were her own – then a door opening. She could leave. It was dark outside but she was no longer afraid.
Adrian was standing there.
– Not again, he said, his voice filling the room and making all other voices disappear. – Don’t you touch her.
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OSLO CRIME FILES
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1
One half of her face was in shadow, divided by the light that fell through the room from the open window. He raised himself up on his elbows to get a better look at her. The eyes were closed, she wasn’t moving, had been lying like that for a long time. A lock of hair had separated itself and lay across the cheek that was in the light and had an area of thin, tiny scars. He raised his hand to lift the hair back into place, but stopped midway through the movement, resisting the temptation to touch her. Instead he moved his gaze down her neck and the shoulder with the tattoo, a small figure; it might have been a letter from some foreign alphabet. He’d asked her about it but got no answer.
A slight movement in the thin curtains, a touch of wind through the warm room. She breathed slowly and deeply, the way she did when she was sleeping. But maybe she was lying there and knew he was looking at her. Her breasts moved in a way that suggested as much, raised up a little too high each time she breathed in. Carefully he transferred his weight to his left arm so that he could turn and let his gaze take in the rest of her naked body, all the way down to the feet that were so small and narrow; around one ankle the gold chain he had given her.
And at the sight of those feet the thought suddenly that it could end here, that there was no need to go on. The indistinct sense that there was nothing better up ahead, nothing that could equal this particular moment, and that in going on he would only lose it again, like when you let go of a balloon filled with helium and watch it vanish up into the
clouds.
He extricated himself from the foam mattress, the hollows made by his palms and his knees gradually disappearing. She liked this mattress, it was one of the first things she said after she came home with him the first time. She’d sat down on it, obviously enjoying the way it shaped itself around her body. It was the evening they met each other. He’d been at Togo with Siri and a couple of her friends from med school. Later on that evening an old friend showed up, and with him the woman now lying in his bed. For some reason he had got to his feet the moment he saw her, almost offered her his hand as though they were at a reception and she was the one everyone had been waiting for. For a second or two she had looked into his eyes, then turned away with a smile that he was unable to interpret.
He and Siri had been together a year that night at Togo; they had probably gone there to celebrate. She wasn’t jealous, constantly assured him that she trusted him and had no need to keep tabs on everything he got up to.
But at a certain point this new woman had gone to the toilets, which were down in the basement. He waited half a minute before getting up and following after her. Counted the fourteen steps down the black stone staircase. Suddenly it was as though he could hear his own footsteps with astonishing clarity through the buzz of talk and the electronic distortion of the djembe drums. His bladder was almost empty, and he finished quickly, washed his hands, quick look in the mirror, used a paper towel to open the door the way Jenny had taught him to when he was four or five, something he still did when he had to use public toilets.
The ladies’ toilet was directly opposite. She emerged at the same moment, that same smile as when he first said hello to her, but this time she didn’t turn away, she stood there looking straight at him.
– Sigurd Woods, that’s your name, isn’t it?
When he nodded, she repeated the name as though testing out the sound of it. He had never heard it said that way before. She must be from somewhere in the south of Sweden, where Zlatan and Timbuktu had grown up, but he didn’t ask, didn’t want to appear curious. As she was about to turn away, he held a hand out, touched her bare shoulder with the other, as a way of showing her she could go first.
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