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When Mass finally got home, she found Eddie on the sofa under a blanket. An old American film was flickering on the TV screen. He was eating an enormous chocolate bar. She dropped her handbag on the floor and disappeared into the kitchen, where she opened a cupboard. She got out a glass and filled it with ice-cold water. Her mouth was like sandpaper and she swallowed it down in greedy gulps. She filled the glass again and sat down at the kitchen table.

“Were the tests OK?” Eddie asked from the doorway. He stood there looking at his mother with big eyes.

“Yes, yes,” Mass reassured him, without looking at him. “I’m anemic and my ESR is high. I need to take some medicine,” she mumbled. “Let’s make supper.”

She stood up and opened the fridge and took out a package of three pork chops. Two for Eddie, one for her. As they ate, she suggested that they drive up to Geirastadir Church to tend to Eddie’s grandparents’ grave. He was eager to go. It was April now and they could finally plant some flowers because the snow had melted and there was some warmth in the sun. They stopped at the garden center on the way. Eddie carried the box with four small plants out to the car and then they drove up to the churchyard. Mass walked between the graves, breathing through her mouth — she couldn’t get enough air. She would be lying here herself in a few weeks. She couldn’t believe it. Eddie followed her with the plants, and she carried the trowel. They were going to plant the flowers. She kept her eyes on the slab path. She looked down at her feet, as if they somehow were not hers anymore.

“Look at that!” he exclaimed when they got to the grave. Mass looked in horror at the heavy tilting stone with her parents’ names on it. She put down the trowel and went over to it. She placed her hands on the stone to see if it would move. It didn’t.

“What are we going to do if it falls?” Eddie asked, appalled. “Do you think someone has pushed it?”

“I can’t imagine why they would; it just happens sometimes. We can talk to the sexton.”

Mass plumped down on her knees and pressed the trowel into the ground with considerable force. Earth, she thought, darkness. In a few years, only bones left. Eddie lifted the blue flowers out of the box and held them up to his nose; they smelled sweet. When the plants were in place, Mass stood up with her hands on the small of her aching back. Even though she wasn’t in front of a mirror, she knew she was pale.

“There’s no way that’s just from cleaning,” Eddie said.

Mass gave a brave smile. Then they went back to the car. They fastened their seat belts and drove home. Mass’s head was teeming. She knew she didn’t have much time and there was so much to be done while she still had the energy.

32

August 2005

Sejer and Skarre told Henny Hayden about the red car that had been observed near the crime scene. She had already read about it in the papers, which she pored over every day now.

“Do you know if anyone in Bonnie’s circle of friends and acquaintances drove a red car?”

“I’m afraid not,” she replied. “And in any case, I really don’t think it’s anyone who was close to Bonnie. Goodness, who would it be?”

“Well, we’ll see,” Sejer said. “We’ll keep you updated.”

“So you think the red car is a clue?”

“Yes, I suppose so.”

“But no one saw who was sitting inside?”

“Yes, there was one sighting, when the driver got out of the car. And there’s something about the man that interests us.”

“What’s that then?”

“The way he was dressed made him stand out. And he was seen walking down toward Skarven.”

“You mean on the day they died?”

“Yes, and around the same time.”

“But tell us how you are,” Skarre said in a concerned tone. “Do you have good friends who can support you?”

“Yes, I have some very good friends. But I can’t face talking to them at the moment, so I haven’t been in touch. And they don’t know what to say to me; they can hardly look at me. When I bump into them in the store they look the other way and try to avoid me.”

“You mustn’t underestimate them.”

“I don’t, I just can’t face it!”

“And what about Henrik, how is he?” Sejer inquired.

“We’re losing him more and more,” she said. “I don’t know what to do.”

There wasn’t much the two men could do to comfort her. So instead they asked some more questions about Bonnie because they realized that it was her daughter she wanted to talk about.

Did she have any particular interests in the period before she died? Did she mention anything unusual, anything that made you think? Or was she worried about anything?

“No, nothing. And if there was, she didn’t say anything to me. She was often worried about Simon because he was such a nervous child. She was concerned for the old people that she looked after every day. And for her father.”

“And what about the people we’ve already spoken to,” Skarre asked, “for example, her ex-partner, Olav? You haven’t remembered anything that might be of interest? She took the breakup very badly and could hardly bear to see him.”

“That’s just the way Bonnie was. When she got attached to someone, it was till death do us part.”

Sejer noted her use of the words “till death do us part.”

“She had been betrayed once before,” Henny told them. “But she was only a teenager then. It was her first boyfriend and she was over the moon. She stood in front of the mirror all the time and we weren’t used to that. But then, he finished it. And she was devastated, inconsolable.”

“Did you know him?”

“No, she never brought him home. I thought that perhaps it was because Henrik was so strict. He thought she was far too young to have a boyfriend. Sometimes I got the feeling that he was just waiting for it to be over, and then he could relax again. You know what fathers are like.”

“Do you remember his name?”

“Jørgen.”

“Did he ever contact her again?”

“Not that I know of. He simply disappeared into the big blue. Just like Olav.”

Sejer suddenly thought of something. “She was a teenager when she developed anorexia,” he said. “Did you ever connect that with the breakup? With Jørgen?”

“Yes, I did, as a matter of fact. But at the time we were just relieved that she’d managed to get over it without any lasting damage and started to eat again. We fretted that she might not be able to have children because the doctors had spoken to us about that. You know, because of the illness. Malnourishment. But then after some years, she had Simon. Sometimes having a child can give us new life.”

33

April 2005

One day, Bonnie Hayden received a letter. She stood by the mailbox and studied it because she didn’t often get letters and this was fortunately not a bill — at least, she didn’t think it was. She felt immediate relief. It was a rather fancy yellow envelope, and on the bottom left-hand corner it said in blue script “Falck Law Firm.”

Lawyers? She did a double take. She had no idea what lawyers might want with her. For some reason, it made her feel uneasy. She went back to the steps where Simon was waiting, unlocked the door, and went in. She put the letter down on the kitchen table. At first she wanted to rip it open, but then she got nervous. There was something ominous about a letter from a law firm. Why did they want to get in touch with her? She sat down in a chair and looked at the envelope in her hands. Simon was standing in the doorway watching her.

“Do we have to pay more money?” he asked anxiously.