She paused before she continued. «Tell me now, Agnar, tell me what you see when you think back, then someone else can figure out whether it’s true or not.»
«I see Finn,» said Agnar. «I see that Finn is pushing my father backward. My father doesn’t understand what is happening. ’I can take him for you,’ Finn screams.
«’We can take him together,’ I say, and there is something that is about to crack inside me. Either that, or else there is something that finally snaps into place. We become two wild dogs with foam around our mouths who throw themselves over my father and hit.
«Hit.
«Hit.
«Hit.
«I feel that something bursts and an intoxicating feeling of finally being able to just let go. I don’t know if Papa is screaming. In my version he’s completely quiet. He just lies there and takes our blows. We hit until we can’t anymore, and the fury has eased up.
«Finn and I stand there for a while afterward. Out of breath, we look at each other. My father is lying on his back, halfway down into the creek. The ice cracks under his weight, and I can suddenly hear the creek again. Drip. Drip. Drip, it says. Or maybe it’s the sound of the blood oozing out of Dad’s nose, I’m not sure.
«’We won’t say anything about this,’ I say to Finn.
«Finn doesn’t say anything. He looks at me, and we both know that we had just made a pact.
«Suddenly, my father coughs. We scream, both of us. Fear is tearing at us. It’s not over. I thought it was over. My mouth is completely dry, and I know that I’m standing there with my mouth open, sucking in the raw winter air, and all of me is just a single open channel. I can still feel it, how the insides of my lungs were completely covered with ice.»
«What happened then?»
Bitte whispered, coaxing the question across the table, wanting to do it gently, afraid that he wouldn’t be able to finish. Agnar sat with both arms in a tight knot across his chest. He did not look up as he continued.
«We drag Papa’s slack body further out on the ice, and together, I think we do it together, we make a hole in the ice with Papa’s skull. We are so strong. Papa is so weak. A channel opens up and we hold his head under the water until we no longer have feeling in our fingers.»
Bitte Røed noticed that she had been sitting there, holding her breath.
«You killed your father,» she said as she slowly exhaled.
75
«So, Marte,» said Verner Jacobsen. «Do you know why you’re here again?»
She seemed vulnerable behind the cloak of hostility she had wrapped around her. He had to get past that, he just didn’t know how.
«Not really.»
«You said before that you have a good friend that you can talk to,» Verner began. «Julie. Have you been friends a long time?»
«We got to know each other when her mom started dating my dad. Isn’t she a police officer, too? Bitte Røed?»
He almost blushed. Criminy, she’d become an obsession for him.
«So, you haven’t been friends very long,» he said as calmly as he could. «Who knows you best, Marte? Besides Julie?»
«Why do you want to know?»
No, why should he? He didn’t really know, simply assumed that talking about friends was a good entry point. Now it struck him that it was making her close up even more. Wrong strategy. He looked at his papers, as if there might be something there he could use. Then he took a chance and acted like he knew more than he necessarily did.
«You don’t have any friends, do you, Marte?»
She turned red. He felt uncomfortable.
«It won’t always be that way, Marte,» said Verner, struggling with memories he had tried to repress. «I know that because I was a solitary kid myself.»
The admission rose like a fragile air bubble and burst the moment the words were said.
«But it will work out, believe me.»
She didn’t believe him. She exhaled through her nose and it sounded like a sob.
«That’s what all the grown-ups say. But you don’t understand anything.»
«Maybe grown-ups say that because we were young once, too. Look at me, Marte. Idunn is dead. Someone killed her. You’re alive. That involves some responsibility. You can help me catch the person who did this to her.»
«What if I don’t want to live?» she said defiantly.
«Deep down, everyone wants to live, you’re so young, you have your whole life ahead of you, you...»
«Yes, exactly. A long, fucked-up life ahead of me. I don’t know if I care to.»
«Have you thought about suicide?»
A new risk, he knew that. The representative from Child Protective Services cleared her throat in warning, but something told him that Marte appreciated straight talk.
Marte smiled. At first. Then she turned serious.
«You mustn’t tell my dad this.»
«That you’ve thought about taking your life?»
She nodded.
«He wouldn’t survive it, that’s probably why I’m hanging on, but the thought that I can, if I want to...»
«Give me your hand,» Verner said gently, and she did as he said, a little surprised, extending her hand toward him.
Verner Jacobsen grasped it, and before she had time to pull it back again, he had pushed the sleeve of her sweater up to her elbow.
In terror, she pulled back her arm, but he had seen what he already knew was there.
«You’re hurting, Marte. Does it hurt less when you injure yourself?»
She was quiet a long time. He too kept quiet.
«Have you injured yourself, too?» she asked after a while.
Verner was tempted to lie, but something told him that she was sharp enough to see through him if he didn’t stick to facts.
«No,» he said. «But I know someone who has.»
That was shading the truth, but he viewed Ingrid’s periodic drinking binges as a type of self-injury. That she inflicted pain on her body, or as Ingrid herself liked to call it, pain relief, meant that the real pain disappeared for a little while.
«But Marte, where friends are concerned. You haven’t always been alone, I understand?»
«My dad probably said that.» She smiled a little. «Idunn and Linnea were my best friends until last summer.»
«And what happened last summer?»
«It’s not that easy to explain.»
«I have plenty of time,» said Verner, leaning back.
She closed up again. Verner waited, let the silence become thick and uncomfortable. At last, he was the one who had to admit defeat.
«We can come back to that, Marte. You don’t need to say anything, but if you feel like talking to someone about what’s difficult, about what happened last summer, you should know that I’ll listen to you and I have a duty of confidentiality. Or you can talk to your doctor, or the school nurse. Or her.» He nodded toward the woman from CPS.
«I want the two of us to have a talk afterward, Marte,» she interjected.
Verner Jacobsen saw the slight shock in Marte’s eyes, but then she nodded, almost without moving her head.
«But Marte, I wonder whether you can help me with another thing. I’m a man and I know very little about teenage girls...»
The skepticism was pasted on her face, and he thought that it probably sounded more dramatic than he had intended. He smiled, with a somewhat resigned expression.
«Dumb question, I know, but is it common that you borrow clothes and jewelry from each other?»
He saw the relief on her face.
«That’s an odd question,» she said, laughing a little. «But sure, we do. Occasionally.»
«Can you remember what kind of jewelry Idunn had on at that party?»
«No, I don’t remember.»
«Okay,» said Verner. «Now I want you to look at these pictures.»
He opened the laptop and retrieved a couple of the cell phone pictures that were taken at the party. A close-up of Idunn, where she had the silver heart
on, filled the screen. Marte stared at the picture, then she leaned back in the chair, shrugging her shoulders.
«Do you recognize this piece of jewelry? Was it Idunn’s? And do you know if she loaned it to anyone else during the party?»
Marte concentrated on keeping the expression on her face neutral. She faked a yawn. Act normal! she said sternly to herself. But she didn’t know how to act normal in a room at the police station with a detective and a woman from Child Protective Services, and she didn’t know what she should say. Idunn’s jewelry. Idunn had the heart on at the party. Then it showed up in her mailbox. The pictures that had been stored on the memory stick and the Post-it note: Now you are safe. Who wanted her to feel safe? Did the police know that she was the one who had the jewelry now?
«No,» she said, hearing at once how her voice cracked. I’m terrible at lying, she thought, now I’m exposed and I’ll have to tell everything the way it is, I’ll have to show them the pictures.
«No!» she repeated, more definitely. «I don’t know anything about that piece of jewelry.»
Verner Jacobsen was a bit surprised by the aggressive tone of voice. She yawned again, and when she did, her mouth formed an O, so that it looked like she didn’t have any teeth. You’re not tired, he thought. You’re scared. He was about to ask her if she knew anything about the call Idunn had made to Linnea when his own phone rang.
«Excuse me,» he said when he saw it was from the nursing home where his mother lived. «I have to answer this.»
He sat quietly and felt fatigue coming over him when he had ended the call.
«We have to finish now, Marte. I’ll drive you home,» he said, thinking he could ask her about the phone call in the car. If he could bear to.
«Come on,» he commanded. «I have to go to Lier.»
76
Bitte Røed let Agnar Eriksen take a break. Something had let go as he described the killing of his father, but now it seemed as if he was suddenly drained. She decided to use the break to see what had been written about the case back then, and started searching in old archives.
She found no criminal cases in connection with Agnar Eriksen’s father. Nothing new, just the same news item in the local paper’s archive that she had read before. Thirty-one years ago, a man by the name of Ragnvald Eriksen had been reported missing. Ragnvald Eriksen had not come home from a walk in the forest. The search party had combed the area without finding anything other than blood stains by a creek, but it was concluded that these were from an injured animal. There was never any suspicion that a crime had been committed, and no investigation was ever started.
Bitte thought about what Agnar had said. He had confessed to the murder of his father, but no corpse was ever found. And now the case was past the statue of limitations. Finn will have to come in for questioning again anyway, she decided, but chose to have another session with Agnar first.
He looked sleepy, rubbing his eyes with both hands, like a child.
«Would you like coffee? It looks like you might need it,» Bitte Røed said, smiling. She already had a thermos ready, and two paper cups were on the table. He took the coffee and yawned exaggeratedly.
He’s acting like he’s more relaxed than he is, Bitte Røed thought, and wondered why he so willingly told about a murder he had committed in the past, while maintaining that he could not remember anything about the murder of his mother.
«I’m sure you’re aware that you can no longer be convicted for the murder of your father,» she said.
Agnar glanced up furtively. There was a glimpse of surprise there, but he didn’t say anything.
«The statute of limitations is twenty-five years, so you have a good margin.»
It didn’t appear that the news made any difference; he seemed indifferent.
«Shame has no damned statute of limitations,» he mumbled.
Bitte Røed nodded.
«I understand that. So, you admit that you were involved in the murder of your father?»
Agnar peeked at the microphone that was hanging over the table between them. He leaned forward and flicked at it. It swung back and forth for a while.
«Yes,» he said when the microphone had stopped swinging.
«You were kids when this happened. Did you understand what you had done?»
«I was fifteen. I wasn’t stupid.»
«What did you do afterward?»
«We did what most kids do,» Agnar said with a grin. «We ran off, each to our own house. Home to mother. And we lied. I ran home and said that Papa was lying by the creek, that he had fallen and struck his head on the ice. I didn’t say anything else, never said that Finn had been there. I let her go see for herself while I sat in my room shaking, tried reading a comic book, but the words fluttered here and there. I tore out the front page of a Donald Duck comic and pasted it up on the wall with wood glue. Didn’t have anything else. It’s still hanging there. I remember that, anyway. Or, no, it’s probably not,» he said, picturing to himself the TV images of his childhood home in ruins.
«What did your mother do when she found him?»
«I don’t know. She came back and chased me out of the house. She told me to go to hell, to put it bluntly.»
Bitte Røed was shaken and knew that it showed on her face. Her thoughts ran here and there at a frantic pace. Could I have told Peder and Julie to go to hell? What makes a mother send her only child away? What would I have felt if I discovered that my child had killed his father? It was an impossible thought.
«What did you do?»
«What do you think?»
«I have no idea,» said Bitte, «but it seems as if you were pressured to make a choice that had consequences for the rest of your life. I want you to tell me what you did.»
«I packed a bag and split. She gave me the money she had, I’ll grant her that.»
«So, she didn’t know where you were going?»
«She did. She told me to go to my aunt’s in Oslo. And I said, sure, I could do that.»
«Did you?»
«No. I went to Finn’s. I told him I was going to run away, and if anyone were to ask, I said that he should deny ever having been down in the ravine that day. That what had happened had to be our secret. I’ve never seen anyone so relieved, either before or since. And I remember exactly what he said: ’I owe you a favor, a big favor. If you ever need my help, you know that I’ll be there. No matter what.’
«That was what he said.
«So, I took the bus to Asker and from there the train into Oslo. I never went to my aunt’s, but wandered around alone, met a couple of nice guys down at the Østbanen railroad who looked after me.»
He fell silent again. His skin tightened. Bitte could see that his jaws were clenched.
«Back then I thought my mother was just mad because I’d killed her husband. That she would punish me, that she couldn’t bear to see me anymore. And even if I actually was just so fucking relieved and happy that my father was dead, it was worse with Mama. I’ll be damned, but I think she loved that jerk. And deep down I was probably not that fond of my mother. I can remember that I thought that if she had one missing son and one murdered husband, she would get a lot of sympathy from neighbors and people in the area. In a strange way I wanted to protect her, and I thought it was best for both of us if I left and no one knew where I was.
«Deep down I probably thought that the police would find me after a while. They must investigate the cause of death and realize that I was the one who did it, right? By taking off, I had almost admitted it. Later, I heard that there were rumors that Ragnvald Eriksen had abandoned his wife and child and debts and left the country. And people must have thought that I’d just got a job, or started school, or damned if I know what. People didn’t care. Not about anything other than that we were people they could slander. Irresponsible father. Sloppy mother. Stupid son. A family that falls on its ass is always good entertainment. I think that was when it first occurred to me that I was less human than everyone else. I was lacking t
oo much.»
Agnar pushed his cup forward and asked for more coffee. He sat in silence and drank it. Bitte filled her own cup and did the same. The silence was not unpleasant.
«I think that Mama,» Agnar began, swallowing audibly, as if the choice of words disgusted him. «Or, I hope that what Mama meant by telling me to leave was to say in some hysterical way or other that she wanted to protect me. That was why I always returned home, stayed a while, but always had to leave again disappointed. That’s how fucking stupid a person can be.»
«Did she know what you had been subjected to?»
«You mean did she knew that her husband was screwing her son when he felt like it?»
Bitte saw how the armor of rough humor now burst like a dam. He shook his head. Snot was running from his nose, but he rubbed it away harshly with the back of his hand.
«I don’t know.»
He fixed his marble eyes on her.
«Don’t you think a mother notices such things?»
Bitte Røed caught herself shaking her head.
«I don’t know, Agnar,» she answered. «But for some, maybe it would be too painful to take in, maybe the fear in some cases is too great. And justified,» she added.
«I was never able to threaten the true answer out of her,» Agnar said.
He paused. Then he said, «Or maybe I did. I just don’t remember how she answered before she died.»
This time the silence became oppressive, and it was Bitte who chose to break it.
«Agnar Eriksen, circumstantial evidence indicates that you killed your mother the night of Thursday, November 27, but until this is proven, I want you to tell me as many details as possible. It’s important that we trust each other, Agnar. You can trust me, if I can trust that you’re not lying. But I promise you that if I catch you in a lie, I won’t take anymore. Then I’ll turn you over to a different interviewer, and I can’t promise you that person will have the same patience as me. Not everyone here in the building bothers to get tissues for a grown man who’s crying.»
The Girl With No Heart Page 23