Don't Look Back (24 page)

"How did he take it?"

The Community Officer got up and paced the room. He
seemed strained and uneasy. Sejer had no intention of filling the silence.

"It was hard to tell what he was feeling. Halvor was a very closed sort of child. But to be honest, it definitely wasn't despair. It was more a sort of determination, maybe because he could finally start a new life. His father's death was a turning point. It must have been a relief. The boys had lived in constant fear, and they never had the things they needed."

The Community Officer fell silent and stood with his back turned, waiting for Sejer's questions. He was the Chief Inspector, after all, who had come to him for assistance. But Sejer remained motionless. Finally he turned around.

"It wasn't until later that we started to think about things." He went back to his chair. "The father was lying inside a sleeping bag. He had taken off his jacket and boots, had even rolled up his sweater and stuck it under his head. I mean, he had really settled in for the night. Not..." he said, taking a breath, "not to die. So it occurred to us afterward that someone might have helped him on his way to eternity."

Sejer shut his eyes. He rubbed hard at a spot on one eyebrow and felt a scrap of dried skin fall.

"You mean Halvor?"

"Yes," the Community Officer said somberly, "I mean Halvor. Halvor could have followed him out, watched him fall asleep, stuck the shotgun inside the sleeping bag, into his father's hands, and pulled the trigger."

The information made Sejer freeze.

"What did you do?"

"Nothing."

The Community Officer threw out his hands in a helpless gesture. "We didn't do anything at all. We didn't find anything that could connect him to it, nothing concrete. The wound was typical for a suicide. A 16 caliber, fired at close range, with the
entrance wound under the chin and the exit wound at the top of the skull. No other fingerprints on the shotgun. No suspicious footprints outside the shed. Unlike you, we had a choice. But you might call it something else, I suppose. Breach of duty or a serious misjudgment?"

"I could probably think of even worse things." Sejer smiled. "If I was so inclined. But you talked to him?"

"We brought them in for questioning, but we didn't get any where. The younger brother was only about six; he didn't know a thing and couldn't confirm or deny the timing. The mother was full of Valium, and none of the neighbors heard the shot. Their house was quite isolated, a hideous place that had originally been a grocer's shop. A brick building with a steep stone staircase and two huge windows on either side of the door."

He wiped his nose, a nervous gesture.

"But fortunately there were a number of contraindications."

"Such as?"

"If Halvor was the one who fired the shot, he would have had to lie down next to his father, with the shotgun pressed to his chest and the muzzle up under his chin. Would a fifteen-year-old be able to think that clearly, with his cheek sliced open?"

"It's not impossible. Someone who lives in a house with a psychopath year after year has to learn a lot of tricks. Halvor's a bright kid."

"Were they sweethearts? Halvor and the Holland girl?"

"Sort of sweethearts," Sejer said. "I'm not happy about your theory, but I'm going to have to take it into consideration."

"So you're going to make it public?"

"If you give me a copy of the case file, that would be great. But it's probably impossible now, after so much time, to prove anything. I don't think you need to worry. I've served on a dis
trict police force myself. I know how it is. You get too tied to the people."

The Community Officer stared sadly out the window.

"I've probably damaged Halvor's case by telling you this. He deserved better. He's the most considerate boy I've ever met. He took care of his mother and brother all those years, and I've heard that he's been living with old Mrs. Muntz now, and taking care of her."

"That's right."

"So he finally found a girlfriend. And it ends up like this? How's he doing? Is he keeping his head above water?"

"Yes, he is. But perhaps he didn't expect anything from life other than repeated catastrophes."

"If he killed his father," the Community Officer said, looking Sejer straight in the eye, "then it was in self-defense. He saved the whole family. It was him or them. I have a hard time believing that he would kill for any other reason. So it would not be fair to use this as evidence against him, an incident that we've never properly solved. After I've solved the problem for myself by acquitting him, giving him the benefit of the doubt."

He rubbed his hand over his mouth. "Poor Lilly didn't know what she was doing when she said yes to Torkel Muntz. My father was the Community Officer here before me, and there were problems with Torkel even in his day. He was a troublemaker, but he was a handsome guy. And Lilly was so pretty. Separately they might have made something of themselves in the world. But there are certain combinations that just can't work, don't you agree?"

Sejer nodded. "We have a departmental meeting later today, and we'll have to evaluate the charges. I'm afraid..."

"Yes?"

"I'm afraid I won't be able to convince the team to let him go free. Not after this."

***

Holthemann leafed through the report and gave them a stern look, as if he wanted to coerce the results through the sheer force of his eyes. The departmental head was not a man anyone would suspect of having a shrewd mind or a high-ranking position if they stood behind him in the checkout line at a supermarket. He was as dry and gray as withered grass, with a shiny, sweaty bald pate and a wary gaze behind his bifocal lenses.

"What about that character up on Kolleveien?" he asked. "How thoroughly have you investigated him?"

"Raymond Lake?"

"The jacket found on the body was his. And Karlsen says that there are rumors about him."

"There's a lot of that kind of thing," Sejer said. "Which rumors are you thinking of?"

"That he drives around drooling over girls. There are also rumors about his father. That there's nothing wrong with him, that he just lies in bed reading porn magazines and lets his poor son run around for him. Maybe Raymond has been reading the magazines on the sly and got inspired."

"I think we're definitely looking for a local man," Sejer said. "And I think he's trying to mislead us."

"You believe Halvor?"

"I do believe him. We also have an unidentified person who appeared in Raymond's yard, and convinced Raymond that the car he saw was red."

"A rather far-fetched story. Maybe it was just a hiker. Raymond doesn't have all his wits about him, does he?"

Sejer bit his lip. "I don't think Raymond's smart enough to make up a story like that. I think someone really did speak to him."

"And this is the man who allegedly sneaked past Halvor's window? And put Annie's bag in the shed?"

"It's possible, yes."

"It's not like you to be so gullible, Konrad. Have you let a dimwit and a teenager win you over with their charm?"

Sejer felt extremely uncomfortable. He didn't like to be reproached, but perhaps he was letting his instincts overshadow the facts. Halvor was the closest person to the victim. He was her boyfriend.

"Did Halvor give you any details?" Holthemann asked. He got up from his chair and sat down on the desk, which meant that he could look down at Sejer.

"He heard a car starting up. Possibly an old car, possibly with one cylinder out. The sound came from the main road."

"There's a turning place there. Lots of cars stop."

"I realize that. Let's release him. He's not going to run away."

"After what you've told us, he might well be a killer. Someone who killed his own father in cold blood. It doesn't look good for him, Konrad."

"But he loved Annie, he really did, in his own strange way. Even though she never gave him much encouragement."

"He probably got impatient and lost control. And if he blew his father's head off, that shows there's plenty of explosive material inside that young man."

"If he really did kill his father—and we don't know that for sure—it must have been because he believed he had no choice. His whole family was being destroyed, after years of abuse and neglect. And he'd been stabbed in the face. I have no doubt that he would have been acquitted."

"Quite possibly. But the fact remains that he might be capable of murder. Not everyone is. What do you think, Skarre?"

Skarre was chewing on his pen and shaking his head.

"I picture an older murderer," he said.

"Why is that?"

"She was in extremely good physical shape. Annie weighed
about one hundred forty-three pounds, and most of it was muscle; Halvor is only one thirty-nine, so they were about the same weight. If Halvor really did shove her into the water, he would have encountered enough resistance so that Annie would have been marked by some outward signs of a struggle—such as cuts and scratches. But all indications are that the killer was bigger than she was and probably much heavier. From what I've seen, I believe that Annie was physically superior to Halvor. I don't mean that he couldn't have done it, but I think it would have been very difficult for him."

Sejer nodded silently.

"OK. That sounds reasonable enough. But then we're left with nothing. Have we found any other persons close to Annie who might have a motive?" Holthemann said. '

"Halvor doesn't have any apparent motive either," Sejer answered.

"He had the bag, along with a strong emotional attachment. I'm the one who has to take the responsibility here, even though I don't particularly like it, Konrad. What about Axel Bjørk? Bitter and alcoholic, with a dangerous temper? Did you find anything there?"

"We have no evidence that Bjørk was in Lundeby on the day in question."

"I see. From the report, you both seem more interested in the death of a two-year-old boy." Now he smiled, though not in an obviously scornful way.

"Not in the boy himself. More in Annie's reaction to the death. We've tried to work out the reason for the change in her personality; it might have something to do with the boy, or possibly the fact that she was ill. I was hoping to find something there."

"Such as what?"

"I don't know. That's what is so difficult about this case; we have no idea what kind of man we're looking for."

"An executioner, maybe. He held her head underwater until she died," Holthemann said harshly. "There wasn't a scratch on her."

"That's why I think they were sitting on the shore, side by side, talking. Completely at ease. Maybe he had some kind of hold over her. Suddenly he puts his hand at the back of her neck and throws her down on her stomach in the water. All in the blink of an eye. But the idea may have occurred to him earlier, maybe while they were in the car, or on the motorcycle."

"He must have been wet and muddy," Skarre said.

"No one saw a motorcycle on Kolleveien?"

"Only a car, going fast. But the owner of Horgen's Shop saw a motorcycle. He didn't see Annie. Johnas didn't see her get on the motorcycle either. He let her out, saw the motorcycle, and thought that she seemed to be heading toward it."

"Do you have any other new leads?"

"Magne Johnas."

"What about him?"

"Not much, actually. He looks full of anabolic steroids, and he had his eye on Annie for a while. She wasn't interested. Maybe he's the type who won't stand for that. He also went to Lundeby occasionally, to visit old friends, and he drives a motorcycle. He seems to have taken up with Sølvi instead. We can't rule him out, at any rate."

Holthemann nodded. "What about Raymond and his father? Isn't it true that Raymond was away from home for a long time?"

"He went to the shop, and when he came back he says he sat down for a while and watched Ragnhild sleeping."

"Rock-solid alibi, Konrad," Holthemann said. "It's my understanding that he's impulsive and muscle-bound in an adolescent way, with the mental age of a five-year-old."

"Exactly. And there aren't many five-year-old murderers."

Holthemann shook his head. "But he's interested in girls, isn't he?"

"Yes. But I don't think he would know what to do with them."

"There's no knowing whether you're right. On the other hand, you have good instincts. But there's one thing you do have to realize." He lifted an admonishing finger and pointed at Sejer. "You are
not
the hero of a detective novel. Try to keep an objective mind."

Sejer threw back his head and laughed so heartily that Holthemann jumped to his feet.

"Is there something I missed?" He stuck a finger under his glasses and rubbed his eye, then he blinked and continued.

"All right," he said. "If something doesn't happen soon, I'm going to have to charge Halvor. Why, for instance, would the murderer take Annie's schoolbag home with him?"

"If they arrived by car, they must have got out at the turning place, and then the bag would have been left in the car," Sejer said. "Afterward it may have been too awkward to go back and throw it in the water."

"Sounds reasonable."

"One question," Sejer said, catching his eye. "If the fingerprint on Annie's belt buckle doesn't belong to Halvor, shouldn't we let him go?"

"Let me think about that."

Sejer went over to the map on the wall, where the road from Krystallen was highlighted with red, traced via the traffic circle, down to Horgen's Shop, and up Kolleveien to the lake. Several little green magnets marked the locations along the way where Annie had been seen. The magnets looked like the green man on the "walk" sign of a traffic light. One was placed outside her house in Krystallen, one at the intersection of Gneisveien, where she crossed the street and took a detour, one was at the circle where she was seen by a woman as she got into
Johnas's car. One was at Horgen's Shop. Johnas's car and the motorcycle outside the shop were also indicated. Sejer plucked off one of the Annie magnets, the one near the grocery shop, and put it in his pocket.

"Who was really the closest to her?" he said. "Was Halvor? What are the chances that someone managed to pick her up in that short space of time, from the moment she walked from Johnas's car to the shop, until she was found? The motorcyclist has not come forward. No one saw her get on the motorcycle."