The Girl With No Heart

by Marit Reiersgaard

  «Is he mine or yours?» she asked.

  «Damned if I know,» said Verner. «But we probably should be able to approach him from two directions. I think it’s best that we question Agnar Eriksen together.»

  57

  Verner Jacobsen was uncertain whether the decision he had made was correct. Initiating a collaboration without informing Thomas Lindstrand could create problems, but they didn’t have enough people. And who would be better suited than Bitte Røed and himself to nail Agnar Eriksen to the area where no less than two homicides had occurred? They were a hair’s breadth, perhaps, from solving both cases. Semen had been found on the victim from the Obelisk case. Admittedly, Agnar had never been convicted of a sex offense, but he could have been guilty of criminal acts that had never been discovered or reported.

  And Finn and Elin must have lied. What reason did they have to give Agnar an alibi?

  Agnar Eriksen came into the interview room along with Bitte Røed. She asked him to sit down.

  «Well, let’s start then,» she said with a smile. «I’d like to point out that this interview is being recorded.» She pointed at the microphone hanging from the ceiling. Agnar nodded.

  «You are here because previously you denied having been in the area by Høgdabakkene the night of Thursday, November 27. Information has emerged that indicates that you’re lying. What do you have to say to that?»

  Goddamn you, Finn, he felt like crying out. Instead Agnar asked in as neutral a voice as he could summon, «Who said that?»

  «Let’s just say that we’ve found evidence that indicates you were in the area,» said Verner Jacobsen.

  He browsed in the pile of papers he had on his lap, and shoved a photograph across the table to him. Agnar saw at once what it was. The vodka bottle! So that’s what it was. The present for his mother. That he’d drunk up. He thought he could feel that his heart, quite literally, sank a couple of centimeters. His brain labored. Okay, so most likely they had fingerprints. How could he worm his way out of this? He felt his throat tighten up and swallowed.

  «Do you see what this is?»

  «A half-bottle of vodka,» said Agnar, pushing the sheet back. Don’t say anything until you have to. Damn, it must be possible to think of something that explained how the bottle ended up there in the snowbank.

  «And you’re familiar with that bottle?»

  «Damn right it’s familiar,» said Agnar, trying to smile. «You find them at every liquor store.»

  «But can you explain how a vodka bottle with your fingerprints was found only a few hundred meters from your mother’s house the night before it burned down, the same night that a teenage girl was killed? The bottle was found very close to the scene of a murder, Agnar. I need an explanation.»

  Agnar looked down at his lap. He knew that the surveillance camera had caught a beaten man. He no longer had any choice. He had to tell them what he remembered.

  «I have some major black holes from that night,» he said after a silence that at last had started to ring in his ears. «I don’t remember every damn thing that happened.»

  «So, you weren’t with your friend that night as you previously stated?»

  «No.»

  «What were you doing up in Tranby?»

  «I was going to my mother’s house.»

  The moment he said that he was overcome by a violent sorrow. It was true. He had been on his way home. Home for Christmas.

  He no longer cared that the tears came. It didn’t matter. They’d caught him in a lie. He was finished. Soon a warm cell would be waiting for him again. Maybe he would be there the rest of his life. In principle, that didn’t have to be such a bad thing, it struck him. If it just hadn’t been for Lilly.

  «Who’s going to take care of Lilly?»

  «Lilly?» said Bitte Røed. «Oh, yes, your mother’s dog. It will be taken care of if we have to hold you here.»

  «You’re going to kill her!»

  «No, take it easy. We’ll get someone to take care of her,» Bitte said gently. «Let’s get to the point,» she continued, forcing the thought of the dog aside. For a moment she had been on the verge of offering herself as dog sitter.

  «How did you get to Tranby, Agnar?» she asked. «And at what time were you there? It’s important that you try to remember as many details as possible.»

  «I took the bus from Drammen,» said Agnar.

  This memory was clear. He remembered how he had forgotten to change buses in Lierbyen and had to go on a long ride up the west side before they came over to the right side of the valley. The real one for him, who had grown up on the east side.

  «I celebrated my first day of freedom with a sip. I was probably not completely sober. Forgot to change buses, so it took time to get myself home to mother. And once I got there, I forgot to get off, ended up in Lierskogen.»

  «What time was it then?»

  «When I got off? Around six, I think. You can just check the timetable,» he said to show that from now on he was willing to cooperate. It was the same policewoman he had talked with earlier. He liked her, even if she was now sitting there with a stern face, asking awkward questions. The man beside her didn’t say anything, but he looked like the world’s most crotchety policeman.

  «What did you do once you got off the bus?» Bitte Røed asked, thinking that so far everything had tallied with what she had seen on the video from the bus company.

  «I decided to walk back, but then I caught sight of that restaurant. With a liquor license.»

  Bitte Røed nodded. And smiled faintly. Agnar continued talking. For the time being, it was not difficult for him to remember what he had done. He told about how nice and warm it was inside the restaurant, the pizza with thin, crisp crust and ham, cheese, some green weed he had picked off, and wine, coffee, cognac. All you could wish for.

  «But later on, I was asked to pay and leave,» said Agnar. «After that, things are a bit less clear. I recall that I met some teenagers. I walked toward my mother’s house, but I’m not really sure how I got there. I may have walked through the forest. It’s like my legs found the way themselves in the old stomping grounds. And I remember that mother hadn’t locked the door. I was ice-cold when I got there, must have wandered around outside a long time. But after that it’s a blank.»

  «Even so, try to put yourself back in time,» said Bitte. «You went in. What did you see?»

  Agnar closed his eyes. He saw his mother on the floor by the kitchen counter. He saw the blood. How much should he say? His mother was ash, they didn’t need to know anything about the blood, did they?

  «I saw myself,» he said when he had thought about it.

  Bitte Røed looked inquisitively at him.

  «As a little boy,» Agnar continued. «I broke a picture of myself that was on the dresser in the hall. I think I cut myself.»

  He noticed that the female detective’s eyes narrowed. Didn’t she believe him?

  «Were you bleeding?»

  «I must have been.»

  «I’m glad you’re telling us this, Agnar,» said Bitte Røed. «You see, there’s something else that links you to the scene.»

  «Blood?»

  «Yes, blood.»

  Agnar again pictured his mother and the blood that had run across the floor and rug.

  «Lots of blood,» he whispered.

  «Where?»

  Agnar did not answer. He wondered how they had managed to find that out. Wasn’t the house completely destroyed in the fire? Was it possible to reconstruct a pool of blood in a heap of ashes? To be sure, it was incomprehensible what the police could find out nowadays.

  «Where was that blood, Agnar? It’s better if you say it now. We’ll figure it out anyway, and it’ll be an advantage for you if you’ve cooperated.»

  Her voice was gentle and warm, he heard no judgment so far; on the contrary, she seemed much nicer than the sow he had met at the welfare office yesterday. Was it really just a day ago? He’d had his own apartment for less than twenty-four hours and now
he was back.

  «In the kitchen,» Agnar said, deciding to tell the little he recalled.

  «But it wasn’t until the morning after,» he said. «She was lying on her back next to the counter, and there was a big pool on the floor.»

  Bitte Røed opened her mouth. Closed it, before she opened it again, and said, «I had intended to ask you why your mother’s dog had blood on its fur... now you say that your mother was lying in a pool of blood in the kitchen?»

  She leaned forward as an additional assurance that the microphone would capture everything.

  Damn!

  Agnar put two fingers against his lips as if to prevent more words from escaping.

  Obviously, there was blood on Lilly’s fur, it struck him now. He had cut himself, and then petted the dog. That was what he had meant, not that other blood. They didn’t know anything about the blood in the kitchen. Not until now. Agnar, you fool, you fucking stupid twerp, you idiot and your damned big mouth.

  «Agnar,» Bitte Røed said quietly, «the autopsy of your mother showed that she was stabbed in the chest several times with a bread knife. I would like you to tell me what happened.»

  «I can’t.»

  He answered a little too late, a delay, as if he was a reporter from the other side of the earth. The world’s most crotchety policeman said his name and repeated the question.

  «I can’t,» Agnar repeated, «but now I remember that I stole her cognac and went to bed in my old room. I have a memory that I talked with her through the door to the bedroom, and I think she answered, but I don’t really know. Really, damn it.»

  Bitte Røed looked at him, there was a sincere vulnerability in his voice she had a hard time not believing in. She decided to take a different tack, but it looked as if the man needed a break.

  58

  «I don’t know what I should do with you, Røed,» said Thomas Lindstrand.

  Bitte Røed scratched her face and rubbed the back of her hand across her chin. Powdered sugar sprinkled onto her lap, a sign that she had stopped by Klausen’s Bakery. She felt like a child who had been caught red-handed.

  Agnar Eriksen had been led to a cell with a request for remand in custody. The court would decide on that within a short time. The superintendent had alerted the team that another press conference would have to be held sometime during the afternoon.

  «You don’t need to put me on the sidelines,» said Bitte.

  «You can’t be involved in the Idunn case,» said Lindstrand. «And where the fire is concerned, based on what we now know, I may possibly shield that case too.»

  Bitte heard how he drawled on the word «possibly.»

  «Use me!»

  «Unfortunately, it’s not that simple,» said Lindstrand. «We have rules, and you...»

  To hell with rules, she wanted to shout, and felt how something was pulsing inside her skin, uncontrolled, like a living being. It sizzled, like bacon in a hot frying pan.

  «I understand that you don’t like the fact that Verner and I took the liberty of questioning Agnar Eriksen, even though strictly speaking I wasn’t on the homicide case, but we assessed...»

  «You mustn’t assess these types of cases.»

  Bitte pressed her lips together out of fear that she would say something inappropriate. She was about to accuse him of being a male chauvinist and unfair. You mustn’t assess, somehow... It was because she was a woman. Because she wasn’t clever enough. Because he didn’t like her. Because she was fat. And ugly.

  She was about to lose her composure. She snorted.

  Lost her composure. Really. As if it were something she owned, along the same lines as a wallet or a cell phone. Sorry, I lost my composure, now I have to go look for it...

  «Bitte Røed,» said Thomas Lindstrand. «I understand that you’re frustrated.»

  For a moment she was afraid her thoughts had turned into words without her noticing it. She stroked a finger against the little groove on her upper lip and sat there looking at the red speck on her index finger. Lipstick.

  «For the time being, we’re not shielding the fire case,» Lindstrand continued. «But someone else will take on any further questioning of Agnar Eriksen. And if it turns out that the fire has a connection with the Idunn case, where you are still considered disqualified, that is, if you’ve forgotten that...»

  He took a breath, and in the pause that ensued she felt the same pain in her stomach as when she found out that Kristian was being charged.

  «I’ll have to consult with the attorney general,» Thomas Lindstrand continued. «We don’t want a police scandal in the middle of all this. Besides,» he added, «the hearse case still isn’t solved.»

  Bitte Røed felt like a pupil being sent to the hall when a short time later she was ordered back to her own office. She stood there, feeling the aftereffects of the superintendent’s words. She had to hold her arms tight against her chest to stop the trembling.

  Self-control had a price.

  She leaned over the desk and stared at the brick building on the other side of the street. She did not like the reminder that she was still disqualified. The thought of Kristian was like an open wound in her chest, and a feeling of suddenly having little time came over her. They must have made a mistake, she thought, and decided to immerse herself in work from the direction that was possible for her. I might not have permission to talk with Agnar Eriksen, but no one has prohibited me from talking with his shaky alibi—Finn.

  59

  A woman answered, when Bitte Røed rang the doorbell at Finn’s place a little later. She introduced herself as Elin and followed her into the living room, where Finn was sitting on the sofa.

  «I’m sorry to bother you,» said Bitte Røed, without really having any idea why she apologized for the visit, but the air in the apartment was vibrating with something or other. Possibly nervousness. She decided to wait to confront them with the suspicion that they had given Agnar Eriksen a false alibi.

  «I would like to ask you a little about Agnar Eriksen,» she said and smiled disarmingly. «I’ve understood that you were childhood friends.»

  Finn nodded.

  «Were you close friends?»

  He nodded again, keeping his eyes aimed at the floor.

  «Agnar and Finn were in the same grade,» Elin broke in. «You told me that, Finn. That you hung out together at school, but that you cut off contact with him.»

  «Why?»

  «He acted out, he was... well, what should I say?»

  «Finn has said that Agnar was not exactly a model child, or to be more precise the whole family was a bit... how shall I put... perverse.»

  «But did you know them, Elin?»

  «No, but Finn said that—»

  «Then I would prefer if Finn would do the talking,» said Bitte. «Don’t get me wrong,» she added, «but it is important that the person who actually knew Agnar says something about what he remembers.»

  Elin looked offended for a moment. Then she stood up abruptly.

  «I’ll put on a cup of tea. Would you like one?»

  Bitte Røed nodded. There was something in the way that Elin moved that made her suspect she was expecting a baby.

  «There are things Elin doesn’t know,» Finn said quickly. «It’s difficult—do we have to do this here?»

  Bitte looked at him.

  «Things from your past?»

  «Yes, Agnar and I, we did a few things. It’s hard to relive them, and I would really like to spare Elin. She’s so young, and now when she’s...»

  «Pregnant?» Bitte said with a smile.

  Finn nodded proudly.

  «Can you come to the police station tomorrow?»

  Another nod.

  «Then let’s do that, but now when you’re starting a family, wouldn’t it be wise to tell your wife everything? Even if it’s difficult?»

  «You don’t understand,» said Finn. «Agnar’s not a good person. I’m afraid for... the baby. That he will do things, and I can’t say anything that will make Elin u
pset.»

  He fell silent, and his face looked distorted.

  «We’ve already lost two. Two miscarriages in two years. Now she’s just past the critical point, where it went wrong last time. Please, I’ll cooperate, believe me, I will gladly contribute so that Agnar won’t go loose, but I have to try to protect Elin and the little one.»

  «We only have herbal tea, is that okay?» Elin came out with a teapot and three cups on a tray.

  «I’m sorry,» said Bitte Røed, getting up. «I got a call, and unfortunately, I have to leave. But there’s no hurry on this. Your husband and I have agreed that we’ll have a chat tomorrow.»

  Bitte Røed was already out in the hall when Finn came after her. He was holding a light-blue cap.

  «We found this under his pillow,» said Finn, handing her the cap. «Elin doesn’t want any of his belongings here anymore. Can you give it to Agnar? Perhaps you’ll see him?»

  «I’m sure I can do that,» said Bitte, taking it.

  She was about to set the cap aside on the seat beside her in the car when she caught sight of a strand of hair sticking out between the stitches. She picked up the cap and looked at it more closely. A dark-brown, sturdy hair. But Elin and Finn were both blond. And Agnar’s head is shaved, she thought, reaching for the glove compartment. Between registration papers and a small first aid kit she found the evidence bags. She set the cap carefully in one of them and filled out the lines for case number, place of discovery, and other relevant information. The forensic squad will have to take a look at this before Agnar Eriksen gets his cap back, she decided.

  60

  Sølvi Eriksen was sitting at Idunn’s desk. She fidgeted with her hairbrush. Sniffed the aroma of hairspray that still lingered. She ran her hand along the long, brown hairs that were stuck in the bottom and poked out on the sides of the brush. This was a part of Idunn. It tickled her hand. She was actually holding her. Sølvi set the brush down carefully on the desk and picked up the blush brush that was in a basket along with eye shadow and lip gloss. Idunn had sat here and stroked the brush across her cheek only a few hours before she was gone forever. She set it tentatively against her own face. The tears were there, right under the skin, and they trickled out at the slightest outside influence. The tears that ran soundlessly down her cheeks melted into the fibers of the brush, and were gone.