Liss read the opening paragraph. Mailin could be absolutely ruthless when it came to something she disapproved of.
– She’s been working on incest and abuse and so on for years, Viljam continued. – You know that’s what her doctoral thesis is about? In Thursday’s programme Berger revealed that as a child he had had a relationship with an older man. It didn’t harm him in the slightest. Far from it: a relationship like that could actually be good for a child.
– I saw that in VG. A lot of very angry responses.
– He got in touch with Mailin a few weeks ago. She’s had several meetings with him. He claims that the taboo on paedophilia is against one of life’s natural expressions. He tries to promote himself as a kind of saviour. Everyone knows that he’s making a fortune out of the fact that people can never get enough of scandal. The more outraged viewers and Christians who threaten to boycott the channel – and best of all, the death threats – the better it is for his image and for the viewing figures.
Viljam got up and took a packet out of the freezer in the top of the fridge. – I’ll heat some rolls for us.
– Mailin would never let herself be used by a guy like that, said Liss. – She’s much too savvy.
Viljam opened the bag with a thin, curved knife. – Agreed. She was the one who was going to use him.
He put the rolls into the microwave. – She’s very careful about the oath of confidentiality and all that. But the day before she was due to go on Taboo, she mentioned something… something she’d found out. Something she was going to reveal in the programme. I’m not quite sure what.
He didn’t say any more.
– And Berger didn’t know about this? asked Liss.
– She told me she would give him a fair chance. She was going to arrange another meeting with him. Talk to him just before the broadcast. Give him the choice of whether to cancel it or not.
– But he didn’t cancel.
– On the contrary. He made fun of the fact that she’d withdrawn. Got a lot of bullshit off his chest. Not a word of explanation for why she wasn’t there.
– Presumably because he didn’t know that before the programme went out?
Viljam shrugged.
– At first I thought she’d changed her mind. That she’d decided after all not to give Berger cred by appearing on his show. But anyone who knows Mailin knows she’s not the type to drop out like that.
The rolls were thawed and ready; he took them out of the microwave, put them on a plate. Put out cheese and jam.
– After Taboo was over, I was certain she’d show up in Lørenskog. We sat there and waited, Tage, Ragnhild and I. Then we started ringing round. Later on that night we called the police. There was nothing they could do. Not until I called again the next day. They asked me to come in and give a statement.
Liss leaned forward across the table. – Did you tell them this about Berger and the meeting she was supposed to have with him?
Viljam sat back down in his chair. – Naturally. But they were more interested in hearing what I had been up to over the last twenty-four hours.
What she saw in his eyes then was fear. The partner is always the first to be suspected, she thought. Was Viljam the type of guy who could do something like that? What was like that? Suddenly she realised she was staring back at him with the same look of fear in her eyes. She excused herself, pushed aside the plate with the fresh warm roll, went out into the hallway and up the stairs.
As she bent double over the toilet bowl, she saw an image of Mailin’s naked body in the dark.
– She’s dead, she murmured. – Mailin is dead.
5
SHE FOLLOWED SANNER Street in towards the city centre. The traffic approaching from the opposite direction created a film of dust and noise around her. She turned away by the bridge, took the path that ran alongside the river. Stopped and sat down on a bench. Light snow was falling, and in the dead grass two boys were chasing around after a ball. A woman in a turquoise outfit with her head covered in a shawl shouted something to them, something sharp and high pitched in a language Liss didn’t understand. The boys ignored her and raced off in the direction of the riverbank.
What was it about Viljam that gave Ragnhild her funny feeling? Was it anything other than jealousy because Mailin had chosen him? Viljam is more than just despairing, she thought. More than just afraid. Or was she imagining that? At times she was certain she could tell when people were lying to her. Wasn’t that just her imagination too?
As she walked on, it stopped snowing. Columns of light passed swiftly between the clouds, as though the sun were hurrying away. She carried on up to Our Saviour’s cemetery. She felt her phone vibrating. She saw it was Rikke and took the call.
– Liss, where are you? I’ve been trying to get hold of you for days.
– I’m in Oslo.
Before Rikke could ask, she told her about Mailin. Just a few words. Silence at the other end.
– I had to come home.
– First Zako and now your sister. It’s crazy.
– Have they got a cause of death for him yet?
– I was called in for an interview. Zako was at my flat directly before he went home that night.
She was probably afraid Liss was going to ask what they had been doing there.
– It’s okay, Rikke, you don’t have to tell me everything.
A wail from the other end. – I’ve been a real bitch, Liss. I understand if you’re mad at me.
– I’m not mad at you. What did the police say?
– They questioned me about everything. When he left, what we’d taken. If we’d had sex. If I went back to his place with him afterwards. It was pretty creepy. Is it my fault if he took too much? They asked about you too.
– What did you say?
– What could I say? I mean, you hadn’t seen him for over a week. That’s right, isn’t it?
– Yes.
– When are you coming back?
– Don’t know.
– I understand.
– What?
– How terrible it must be.
The main street entrance was locked. She looked down the list of names on the doorbells, found Mailin’s. Beneath it, another name she recognised. As the connection dawned on her, she turned, about to walk away. Waited a few seconds and then changed her mind and rang one of the other bells, marked T. Gabrielsen. A woman’s voice over the intercom asked who it was. Liss told her; there was a buzzing from the lock.
The stairwell smelt mouldy. The woodwork was worn and the paint flaking. A woman appeared from a door on the first floor.
– So you’re Liss. Mailin has told me about you. I’m Torunn. This is so awful. Not you coming here, of course. You know what I mean.
Liss didn’t answer. This Torunn, presumably surnamed Gabrielsen, was in her thirties. She came up to Liss’s chin. She was quite chubby. Her hair was shoulder length and pitch black, but in the roots its true grey was visible.
– Mailin’s office is on the second floor. Have you got a key? I’m expecting a client. Just say if there’s anything I can do to help.
As Liss was halfway up the stairs she continued: – Are you looking for anything in particular? The police have already been here. She shuddered, took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes.
– No, nothing special, said Liss. – Just want to see her office.
Just want to look for her, she might have said. The woman nodded as though she understood.
On the second floor, Liss let herself into a room furnished as a waiting room. A sofa, some chairs, a radio on a table in the corner, poster art on the walls. Two doors leading out of it. Pål Øvreby – Psychologist, it said on one of them. Again she felt an urge to leave the place. A vague pain in the stomach, spreading down into her groin. Pål Øvreby isn’t going to decide what I do or don’t do, she thought, and turned away from his door.