Fall was just around the corner, the first frost not too far off. She walked into the garden and rang the doorbell. The dog started to bark. She drew a deep breath and shook out her body as if she were about to crouch down into the starting blocks. Henrietta opened the door. She smiled. Linda was immediately suspicious; it seemed as if Henrietta had been expecting her. Linda also noted that she had put on makeup, as if she wanted to make a good impression on someone, or to conceal the fact that she was pale.
“This is unexpected,” Henrietta said and stepped aside.
Not true, Linda thought.
“You’re always welcome. Please come in.”
The dog sniffed her, then returned to his basket. Linda heard a sigh. She looked around, but no one was there. Sighs seemed to emanate from the thick stone walls themselves. Henrietta put out a coffee pot and two mugs.
“What’s that sound?” Linda asked.
“I’m playing one of my oldest compositions,” Henrietta said. “It’s from 1987, a concert for four sighing voices and percussion. Listen!”
Linda heard a single voice sigh, a woman.
“That’s Anna. I managed to convince her to participate. She has a melodious sigh, full of sadness and vulnerability. There is always a somewhat hesitant quality to her speaking voice, but never to her sigh.”
Henrietta walked over to the tape recorder and turned it off. They sat down. The dog had started snoring, and it was as if this sound drew Linda back to reality.
“Do you know where Anna is?”
Henrietta looked down at her nails, then at Linda, who sensed a moment of doubt in her eyes. She knows, and she’s prepared to deny it.
“My mistake, then. Each time I think you’re here to see me, what you’re really after is to find out where my daughter is.”
“Do you know where she is?”
“No.”
“When did you last talk to her?”
“She called yesterday.”
“From where?”
“From her apartment.”
“She doesn’t have a cell phone?”
“No, she doesn’t, as you must know. She resists joining the ranks of those who are always available.”
“So she was home last night?’
“Are you interrogating me, Linda?”
“I want to know where Anna is, what she’s up to.”
“I don’t know where she is — what about in Lund? She’s in medical school, you know.”
No she isn’t, Linda thought. Maybe Henrietta didn’t know that Anna had taken a break from her studies. That will be my trump card. But not now — later.
She chose another route.
“Do you know Zeba?”
“Little Zeba? Yes, of course.”
“She’s disappeared, just like Anna.”
Not a twitch or a quiver betrayed that Henrietta knew anything. Linda felt as if she had been floored by a punch she never saw coming. That had happened during her time at the police academy. She had been in a boxing ring and suddenly found herself facedown on the floor without knowing how she got there.
“And maybe she’ll reappear, just like Anna did.”
Linda more sensed than saw her opportunity and she rushed in with her fists held high.
“Why didn’t you tell me the truth? Why didn’t you say you knew where she was?”
It hit the mark. Beads of sweat broke out on Henrietta’s forehead.
“Are you saying that I lied to you? If that is the case, I want you to leave right now. I will not be called a liar in my own home. You are poisoning me. I cannot work, the music is dying.”
“I am saying you lied, and I won’t leave until you answer my questions. I have to know where Zeba is because I think she’s in danger. Anna is mixed up in this somehow, maybe you are too. One thing is for sure: you know a lot more than you’re telling me.”
“Go away! I don’t know anything!” Henrietta yelled. The dog got up and started to bark.
Henrietta walked over to a window, absently opening it, then closing it, then pushing it slightly ajar. Linda didn’t know how to continue, but knew she couldn’t let go. Henrietta seemed to have calmed down. She turned around.
“I’m sorry I lost my temper, but I don’t like being accused of lying. I don’t know where Zeba is, and I have no idea why you seem to think Anna is involved.”
Her indignation seemed genuine, or else she was a better actress than Linda imagined. She was still speaking with a raised voice, and she had not sat down again, still standing by the window.
“That night I got caught in the trap,” Linda said. “Who were you talking to?”
“Were you spying on me?”
“Call it what you like. Why else would I have been here? I wanted to know why you didn’t tell me the truth when I came to ask you about Anna.”
“The man who was here had come to talk to me about a composition we are planning together.”
“No,” Linda said, forcing her voice to remain steady. “It was someone else.”
“Are you accusing me of lying again?”
“I know you are.”
“I always tell the truth,” Henrietta said. “But I prefer not to reveal any part of my private life.”
“You lied, Henrietta. I know who was here.”
“You know who was here?”
Henrietta’s voice was high and shrill again.
“Either it was a man by the name of Torgeir Langaas, or it was Anna’s father.”
Henrietta flinched.
“Torgeir Langaas,” she almost screamed. “I don’t know anyone called Torgeir Langaas. And Anna’s father has been gone for years. He’s dead. Anna is in Lund and I have no idea where Zeba might be.”
She went out into the kitchen and returned with a glass of water. She moved some cassette tapes out of the way and sat down on a chair next to Linda, who had to turn her body to look at her. Henrietta smiled. When she spoke again her voice was soft, almost careful.
“I didn’t mean to get so carried away.”
Linda looked at her, and somewhere inside her head a warning light came on. There was something she should be seeing, but she couldn’t think of what it was. She realized that the conversation had been a failure. The only thing she had achieved was to put Henrietta even more on her guard. An experienced officer should have been in charge of this questioning, she thought. Now it would be even harder for her father, or whoever it would fall to, to get Henrietta to reveal whatever it was she was hiding.
“Is there anything else you think I’ve been lying about?”
“I don’t think I believe almost anything you say, but I can’t force you to stop lying. I just want you to know that I’m asking these questions because I’m worried about Zeba.”
“What could possibly have happened to her?”
Linda drew a deep breath.
“I think someone, perhaps more than one person, is killing women who have had abortions. Zeba has had an abortion. So had the woman who was found dead in that church. You’ve heard about that?”
Henrietta sat absolutely still, which Linda took as a yes.
“What has Anna got to do with all this?”
“I don’t know, but it scares me.”
“What scares you?”
“The thought that someone might try to kill Zeba. And that Anna is somehow involved.”
Something in Henrietta’s face changed. Linda couldn’t say exactly what it was, but it flickered there for a moment. She decided she wasn’t going to get any further and bent down to pick up her jacket from the floor. There was a mirror next to the table. She threw a quick glance at it as she bent over, and she saw Henrietta’s face. She was looking past Linda.