Fredrik did not reply.
«Who?» Ida insisted.
Fredrik blushed as he said her name.
«Marte,» he whispered. «She was mad at Marte.»
«Why was Idunn mad at Marte?»
«Because she thought Marte... oh, I don’t know, it’s too stupid. There were probably several reasons, but Marte and I had made out a little, that’s all.»
Ida and Marius looked at each other.
«And what was it you wanted to fix, by the obelisk, when you were there on Wednesday?»
«I was just going to add something. I was mad. I wanted to write that it was Idunn who was the real whore. I started writing her name, and that was right when I discovered her.»
Ida and Marius started to speak at the same time, but Marius held back.
«You were going to write ’Idunn’?» Ida asked, stifling a smile when it occurred to her that it didn’t say «Whore 1» but «Whore I.» I for Idunn.
Fredrik nodded.
«Did she come after you? Did she stop you?»
«What?»
«Was that why you didn’t write the rest? Because Idunn came and stopped you?» said Marius, who was beginning to suspect what might have happened.
«What are you talking about? Yes, she probably stopped me pretty effectively by lying over on the stone pile without moving. That was when I saw her. I ran over and saw that, that...»
Marius and Ida saw with surprise that he was on the verge of tears.
«Okay, Fredrik,» Ida said gently. «Tell us first of all why you were so angry at Idunn.»
«I wasn’t that angry,» said Fredrik, as if he sensed that he was about to walk into a trap. «We’ve been together, made out a little.»
«Did you sleep with her?» Marius asked.
He blushed, and the redness spread all over his face, including his ears.
«That night?»
He nodded quickly.
«Pretty early in the evening,» he said.
«I want to go back to the moment when you discovered Idunn,» said Ida. «Tell us what you did.»
«I ran over to her and she was just lying there staring at me. I didn’t realize she was dead, and then I saw her jewelry. Did Marte give you the jewelry? That’s why you have the pictures, isn’t it?»
«What jewelry?»
Ida and Marius exchanged puzzled glances.
«The heart with the pictures, the memory stick. Isn’t that why you have the pictures of Marte?»
Fredrik looked in confusion at the detectives, who didn’t appear to be following him.
«So, is that Marte in the picture?» Ida asked quietly.
Fredrik cursed to himself; he had said too much. Now Marte was going to kill him.
«The pictures were on the memory stick that Idunn had around her neck,» he said, not answering the question. «It was made like a silver heart. It was hanging on two thin leather straps. I pulled apart the cord, got it off of her and took it with me. I thought it could save Marte. I felt so sorry for Marte...»
«Fredrik,» said Ida, holding his gaze with hers. «Who killed Idunn? Was it you? Was it Marte?»
Fredrik closed his mouth tight, shook his head. He was very pale, and he answered in a whisper.
«I don’t know.»
86
«I think he knows,» Ida said, when they were alone.
«It seems like it. But he doesn’t want to inform on a girl he obviously has feelings for. Or,» Marius added, «maybe it’s him after all? He was angry at Idunn.»
«I think Marte is the solution,» said Ida. «She knows something. She’s with Verner in the other interview room now. We should let him know that he has to draw this out as long as possible. We have a flimsy basis for holding Fredrik here beyond an ordinary interview, but it’s important that the two of them don’t speak to each other.»
«I’ll let Verner know,» Marius said, leaving. He knocked on the neighboring door and a moment later caught sight of Marte’s back as Verner opened it.
Marius signaled for him to come out. Verner went out in the hall and closed the door behind him, and Marius briefly summarized what Fredrik had told them.
Verner suddenly felt tired, and for a moment he considered asking Marius to take over the responsibility of talking with Marte. But he liked the girl, there was something about her that reminded him of himself when he was that age. Closed up and quiet, but with a stubborn decisiveness. Strong emotions that were vibrating right below the surface. In a flash he remembered himself as a fifteen-year-old. A slender boy-man who was reading too much Federico García Lorca. Who immersed himself in murder. In solitude. Pain. Screams. And hearts that went their way alone. Some of the poems still sat like a claw in his chest. All in this world has broken. All that’s left is silence. (Leave me in this field weeping.)
Was that what it was like for Marte? No, that’s what it was like for me, he thought, standing there a moment after the conversation with Marius. He breathed forcefully in and out a few times and hoped that would be sufficient to reset himself. He had refused the offer Marius made to help with the interview. It would be two against two. Now it was him alone with Marte and the woman from CPS.
A picture of a possible sequence of events had formed in Verner Jacobsen’s mind as Marte told that she had thrown her boot at Idunn. And with the new information from Fredrik, it was even clearer to him. Had the two girls fought up there on the path? Had Marte taken off her boot and thrown it at Idunn? Stop, he thought. Don’t make pictures, don’t analyze. Get her to talk, draw conclusions later.
He returned to his seat in the interview room and leaned back in the chair.
«Will you tell me what happened when you threw your boot at Idunn?» he asked, as gently as he was able.
Marte still sat there, picking nail polish from her thumb.
«Yes,» she said, exhaling, but got no further.
Verner did not dare say anything to break the silence, even if it felt like it was pressing down on him. His skin was crawling. Based on experience, that was a sure sign that something important was coming. Something or other that she hadn’t dared say before.
«I hit her on the forehead, and she got a bruise. It started bleeding—maybe the metal eyelet hit her. That was when I ran. I just forgot about the boot. Thought I could pick it up the next day or something. I just didn’t dare be there any more, even if Fredrik—»
She blushed.
«Yes?»
«Even if Fredrik had defended me earlier in the evening, I wasn’t sure he would do that now.»
She closed her eyes. Verner could hear her breathing, as if she was preparing herself for something unpleasant.
«Fredrik took me with him down to the cellar, and we...»
She blushed again. Verner pretended not to notice.
«It was just so awful, they ganged up on me and got Fredrik to go along with it and...»
«Who are they?»
«Idunn and Linnea.»
«What did they do?»
«They got Fredrik to... no, you know, I can’t do this. Can’t we do it later...?
«It’s time, Marte. But where were you when you threw your boot at Idunn?»
«In the living room at Linnea’s. Everything turned black when I came up from the cellar and saw Idunn standing there with the book.»
«What book?»
«My diary! I didn’t understand how Idunn got hold of it. And now she was standing in front of everyone, reading out loud. Everyone was listening. I had written about...»
She was breathing loudly through her nose and exhaled with a moan.
«I had written about Fredrik, that we had kissed.»
She blushed again.
«Was that so bad?»
«Yes!»
I must remember to ask Bitte if this is possible, he thought. She has a daughter the same age. Was it possible to make such a fuss over a little kiss?
«I would have died if Idunn kept reading. Not everything I’d written was even true. Everyone wo
uld see how stuck-up I was. And I hadn’t just written about Fredrik, I had written about Idunn and Linnea, too. So, I stood there with people around who were pushing and shoving, and I suddenly understood that I was just a sick cancer cell that everyone wanted to get rid of.»
Verner swallowed. The word «cancer» hit him with an unexpected pain. He stuck his thumbnail hard into the back of his hand to deaden the pain on the inside of his ribs while he tried to listen to a long, meandering story about the drama of summer vacation. About a trip abroad she hadn’t been on, about jealousy and bitch-slapping, backstabbing, and ironic messages on social media. She was talking incoherently, jumping from one episode to the next. It was hard to follow, and the tiredness was a strap that tightened around his head and blocked the judgment he usually had.
Verner avoided looking at the clock and let her carry on while he wrote key words on the pad he had in front of him. This was getting to be a much longer story than he had first thought. Marius had asked him to make the interview go on as long as possible, so seen that way, it was a good thing her lips had finally loosened. But then, suddenly, it was as if she had run out of words. He wondered which part of the story he should get her started with again—summer vacation or the rest of the party? It was starting to get late, and they were both worn out. Outside it was getting dark.
«So Idunn had gotten hold of your diary,» he said. «Why did you bring it with you to the party?»
«Are you stupid, or what?»
She stared at him. Verner suddenly felt reprimanded.
«I told you that Idunn and Linnea stopped by my house before we left. Because we were going to the party together. I thought. I actually thought we were friends again. Idunn must have taken the book when she used the bathroom before we left. She ran up to the top floor while Linnea and I got dressed in the hall. They had planned it. That she would sneak into my room. She knows where I usually hide my diary. I realized that too late. They hadn’t stopped by because they wanted things to be like before; good, in other words. I suddenly understood everything as Idunn stood there reading out loud. People laughed. I didn’t know what I should do, but I couldn’t let them keep the book.»
The interview room disappeared before her eyes as she thought back. It was as if she could hear Idunn.
«Check this out! Listen up!»
Idunn has climbed up on a chair. She is holding the diary with both hands and looks out over the living room, as if she’s an author at the school library and is just about to read some really juicy extract from her latest book. Marte feels that her knees are about to give way.
«He’s just sooo hot, I don’t know how I should put it, but today I noticed that he was looking at me. I think about his lips. I’m always thinking about his lips and what it would be like to kiss him. Kiss him. Kiss him. Kiss him. All I think about is kissing him.»
The laughter hits her. A snowball in the face. With a rock inside. I can’t run away, she thinks. I can’t sink down in the carpet, down through the floor. I can scream. I can hit. I can cry, Marte thinks, but she just stands there as if she isn’t present. Marte has left her body. It’s made of ice and completely stiff, unable to move. The laughter moves past her with heavy, silent wing strokes. She notices that there is a cold draft. It gets dark. Someone must have turned down the light. She can almost not see anyone. But she sees Fredrik. He is standing with a beer bottle in his hand, raises it to his mouth, evenly, almost rhythmic. Drinks and drinks. She remembers his words, what he said to her just a few minutes ago. «Let her be now.»
It had been like having waffles and juice after falling on your face on the pavement. The soft delight of being sad. Hope had been hanging in the ceiling lamp above her and blinked as the others listened to him and left the cellar room. She got up, dressed, and went upstairs. She had to go home. She called her mother, but her mother couldn’t pick her up. Called her father. If he took the car, it would be fast, she thought. But then he was with his new girlfriend, and she remembered the bottle of wine that had been on the kitchen table before he left. So, he would probably walk. He would take the shortcut through the woods. It would take half an hour or more before he was here.
«It was warm today. Linnea, Idunn, and I were at Damtjern sunbathing.»
Idunn reads on. Marte knows what is on the next line. It must not be read out loud! Then she is dead. It wasn’t true, what she wrote, that she had slept with Fredrik. It was an impulse, a fantasy, but she is the only one who knows. All the others will believe that it’s true. Idunn will kill me, she thinks. And Fredrik will know that I’m a liar and hate me. If Idunn reads it out loud, she will have to use the straight razor. Then there is no way back. She will be dead before morning.
She doesn’t think. She has to keep Idunn from reading any more in the book. She has to get her to shut up. She is standing too far away. The words cannot reach Idunn even if she screams. She bends down, takes off one boot. She throws it. The boot hits Idunn right in the face, which makes her fall backward. She drops the book on the floor as she falls. Linnea and some others kneel down by her side. Marte throw herself into the chaos that arises, grabs the diary. Runs.
«And then, where did you run?»
Marte had been in her own world. Whispering, as if she was talking to herself, hesitating, as if she would rather keep the words there on the inside. His question made her turn her head toward him, almost surprised that he was still there, or that she was still in the interview room.
«Where did you run?»
«Home.»
«Alone?»
«Do you think anyone would have followed me?»
She laughed. It sounded hollow. The empty space inside her echoed.
«I ran for all I was worth. At first I was afraid that someone would come after me. But it was hard to run with only one boot. And cold. I didn’t dare stop until I was by the obelisk. I had to catch my breath. I went off the path and out toward the precipice... Yes, you know... I was so scared that someone would come after me, I thought about hiding and slipping past them while I caught my breath. But no one came, obviously no one did. And I don’t know if it made me relieved or sad. It was like I wasn’t even important enough to catch, do you understand? I might as well have been invisible. I might just as well have been dead.»
She glanced up, as if to check that he was listening.
«Then I ran home.»
«And when you got home? What time was it?»
«I don’t know. I just went straight to bed.»
«Was anyone at home?»
«No, Dad had gone to pick me up. Or, I did wonder a little where he was, because I expected to meet him on the way. Actually, I was just relieved that I didn’t meet him, that I could just fall into bed and settle down before he came.»
«You didn’t think about letting him know that you had come home?» Verner Jacobsen asked.
Marte shrugged.
«I didn’t think about that.»
Silence ensued. It surprised Verner that she didn’t appear to be uncomfortable that no one said anything. Usually people started babbling away when the silence became too intrusive. Marte looked relaxed, as if she could fall asleep at any moment. Young people sleep well, Verner Jacobsen thought, feeling a touch of envy.
«But when your father came home, did he tell you where he had been?»
«Yes, of course. He had taken the bus when he was going to pick me up—that was why I hadn’t met him. He had been at Linnea’s house, found my boot. Then he ran back to try to catch up with me. That was probably when he met Fredrik, I’m guessing.»
«Did he say that? That he had met Fredrik?»
«No, not then. He just sat on my bed a while. I couldn’t bear to talk. But he said that the next day.»
She sat there lacing her fingers together on her lap. Then she looked at him so abruptly that it felt like being stabbed with a knife.
«Do you think it’s him? Fredrik?»
«It’s my job to ask the questions here, Marte,» he said. «What I
think, or don’t think, isn’t important. I’m only gathering facts. A bit like mushroom hunting,» he said with a smile. «I gather all the facts in a basket, but then I may suddenly discover that a liberty cap has sneaked in.»
Marte frowned and stared at him without comprehending.
«A poisonous mushroom,» he explained. «It can produce hallucinations and distort your view of things. It’s important to remove it from the basket.»
«Okay,» Marte mumbled.
Verner Jacobsen felt that he needed an interruption. That he was starting to throw out metaphors that confused the witness was a sign that he needed a break.
«It’s getting late, Marte, but just one more thing. I think something else happened at that party. Something you’re not telling. What happened before Idunn read from your diary? You started to say something a little while ago. It’s something with Fredrik, isn’t it?»
Marte did not reply. She was starting to root in her jacket pockets. Then she extended a clenched fist toward him and the contents landed on the table in front of him with a thud.
A silver heart with a broken leather cord quivered for a moment on the desk.
87
Bitte Røed drove up to the garage of her townhouse, letting the engine idle while she got out to open the door. It had been snowing lightly all day, but now it was starting to come down harder. The pavement was icy under the fresh snow, and the wheels spun as she tried to ease into the narrow opening. She backed up and tried again, but couldn’t make any forward progress.
«Jesus!»
Bitte backed up again, even further, put the car in gear and stepped on the gas. The whining sound of spinning wheels made her curse again. Where the hell were the snowplows when you needed them? She imagined that she would simply have to leave the car there, blocking the way, when a shadow popped up in the side window. She jumped. She hadn’t seen anyone as she was sitting there.
The man was standing right outside with a grin on his face and a sturdy Rottweiler on a leash. He knocked on the window, and Bitte rolled it down.
«Hi, do you need help? You must be our new neighbor!»
She nodded and reached through the window to shake hands.
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