“I don’t want a little girl,” Nicolai wailed. “I want Tommy. Now, right now!”
She stroked his hair with her delicate hand. “But you’ll never get him back. Now we only have memories. You were a good dad, so be proud of that.”
“What were you doing in the bathroom?” he asked all of a sudden. “Why did you leave him?”
She thought for a moment and then answered quickly. “Oh, I was just doing some washing. The door didn’t even cross my mind. I’m really sorry. I was away for about five minutes, maybe, and he can get quite far in that time. But I won’t let you blame me. And whether you like it or not, life goes on. We have to focus on the funeral now and make sure it’s beautiful in the church.”
He didn’t want her on his lap. He pushed her off and down onto the sofa and ran his hands through his thin, straight hair.
“You don’t leave a toddler on his own,” he retorted. “Especially not one like Tommy. You could have called for me; I could have watched him while you did the washing. You never learn! It wasn’t the first time he’d managed to get out of the house. So just admit you made a mistake and that you’re irresponsible, because that’s what you are.”
“The washing was just as important as your bikes. And in any case, I’m the one who does all the work. You just played with him in the evenings and had fun.”
“Which of us is going to call the funeral people?” he asked.
“Pappa Zita will do that,” she replied. “He’s going to call Sentrum. He’ll explain everything to them, that we have to wait for the body. That is, if you can’t face doing it yourself. It’s good we’ve got Dad. I don’t know how we would get through this without him. So, do you want a cup of tea? The water’s boiling; I can hear it.”
He said no. Instead he went to the cupboard and got out a bottle of whiskey. He poured another dram, lifted the glass, and drank it down.
“You can’t drink at seven in the morning,” she exclaimed, horrified.
“I can do exactly what I want. No one is going to tell me how to grieve.”
10
Sejer liked to have someone else breathing in the room, even if it was only a dog. Every now and then, Frank’s paws quivered as he ran across the fields of his dreams chasing his prey, a cat or a rabbit perhaps. Still alone, Sejer thought, and stretched his long, sinewy body. That’s what my life has become. It’s not what I had planned, but it’s what I got. He flipped the comforter to one side and put a foot down on the floor. He had often thought about getting a single bed, because that would have made more space in the already Spartan room. But thoughts had never led to action, because sometimes in his imagination Elise was still lying there sleeping beside him, silently in the empty space. This gave him gentle, if temporary, solace. But Elise had been entrusted to the earth and darkness, and that made him melancholy. He went over to the window and pulled the curtain to one side. He looked out at the sleeping town that would shortly wake up, a glittering bowl of light between the deep blue hills. Soon it would stir to life again, flare into action. The river was a leaden ribbon, stubbornly pushing its steady way to the sea. He gave Frank an affectionate pat on the head and went into the bathroom. He stared at himself in the mirror and met his own searching eyes. They were as gray as slate, Elise had once said when they were young. No, he wasn’t at all dizzy, not today. His head was crystal clear and his thoughts were free and light. It was, as he had long hoped, finally over. It had to be over now. What a fuss it had all been. Frank made his way into the kitchen and over to his water dish and sleepily slurped up some water left from the day before.
“What do you reckon, Frank?” he asked the dog. “Do we have a murder on our hands? Something’s not right; I’d put my money on it. I bet you two pork chops. Even though you’re fat enough as it is.”
Frank padded back to the bathroom and stopped on the threshold, studying his master standing there with a razor in his hand. On the walls, blue and white tiles with dolphins jumped. “Laughable” was his comment on the dolphins, but once upon a time they had been perfect, because there was something joyous about them, something inspiring.
“Do you think they managed to sleep last night?” he asked the dog. “My guess is that she did and he didn’t. I hope Snorrason finds something definite. It’s possible, after all. Nothing gets by that man. Maybe his little body is full of toxins, who knows? We’ll get to the bottom of this, is that a deal? You’ve got a good nose and I’ve got my suspicions.” The dog grunted a reply and collapsed on the floor. Sejer finished his morning ablutions and got dressed, knotting his dark blue silk tie carefully. Many years ago, Elise had embroidered a small cherry with a green stalk on it. It was the sort of thing she had always liked to do.
I’m sure they’ll be up by now, he thought. Wandering around in despair. Looking to the heavens, praying fervently to God, and cursing fate. But no matter where they look, they won’t find an answer or any soothing words. Carmen Zita is desperate, Nicolai silent and morose. That was how he imagined they would be. They were so different. We humans are put to so many tests, it doesn’t bear thinking about, he mused. Losing a child after only sixteen months. Having to haul the dead child out of the water, panic and fear tearing at your body. He put Frank on his leash and went out to greet the new day, crossing the parking lot to the small path through the woods. Other people and animals had been there before them and Frank sniffed around and searched for a trophy as always. As he walked, he enjoyed the strengthening light and lush vegetation. Bracken, thistles, and cow parsley, willow weed and mugwort, which sometimes made his eyes and nose run. Once the dog had done what he needed to, Sejer turned and walked back to the apartment building where he lived on the top floor. He picked up the paper that was lying on the mat and looked for the modest report, which he found at the back of the news section. Sixteen-month-old boy found drowned in Damtjern. Mouth-to-mouth was given immediately but any attempt to resuscitate failed, and the boy was declared dead after about an hour.
He brushed his teeth, put on his leather jacket, and picked up his briefcase from the desk. So far there were only a couple of documents concerning Tommy’s death. He asked Frank if he wanted to go to work. The dog ran to the door and sat there whining.
“We’re going out to Granfoss,” Sejer said, “and you’re coming with us.”
Skarre swallowed a jelly bean. The sugar surged through his veins, making him more alert.
“You’ve got no shame,” he said with a smile.
“I’m not going to harass them,” Sejer said. “Just a follow-up call to show that we care. To hear how they coped with the first terrible night. There are some upsetting aspects to the job, I agree. But if little Tommy was thrown in the pond on purpose, then someone is going to pay.”
“Absolutely,” Skarre agreed. “If I know you, you won’t let it go. Why are you so certain something is wrong?”
“Well,” Sejer began, “strictly speaking it was you who started it all, and I’m just following up on what you told me when we were standing down there by the pond. But Carmen Zita is obviously nervous. And she is not overwhelmed by grief. Her tears feel more like anxiety about what might lie in store.”
“I refused to let them do an autopsy,” Sejer said, once they were in the car. “I mean, when Elise died. Couldn’t bear the thought of it. I didn’t want those images in my head. It’s so brutal, opening up the body and emptying out all the organs.”
“You refused?” Skarre repeated in surprise. “Can you do that?”
“Yes,” Sejer said. “In many cases you can. The body belongs to the family. But not in the event of a suspicious death. Then it’s we who decide. But you know how it happened. It wasn’t exactly a secret that she died of liver cancer.”