'Thatwon't be necessary,' Annabeth assured him. 'Should there be any problems we candiscuss them as they occur.'
'Verywell,' said Gunnarstranda. 'Earlier today a post-mortem was carried out onKatrine Bratterud.' He tossed his head to indicate where it had taken place.
'Yes,'said Annabeth.
'Frølichand I were present.'
'Yes.'
'Itis very important for us to have this vomiting business clear,' the detectivesaid. 'Are you positive she was sick?'
'Ididn't stand watching, if that's what you mean.'
'Whatfood did you serve at the party?'
'Whyis that?'
'Iwould like to compare it with what we found in her stomach.'
Ashudder went through Annabeth. She said: 'Filled mussel shells as a starter.After that it was a buffet: salads, cured meats and tapas – you know, marinatedolives, artichokes, that sort of thing, because it's easy, then a bit of cheeseat the end… red wine… beer… and mineral water for those who wanted it… coffeewith cognac.'
Gunnarstrandanodded. 'We found fragments of skin under her nails,' he continued. 'This and anumber of other details suggest she defended herself.'
'Youmean she scratched?'
Thepoliceman nodded.
'PoorKatrine,' Annabeth muttered to herself, and as neither of the policemen saidanything, she added: 'Well, I haven't run into anyone with a scratched face, ifthat's what you're wondering.' 'Why do you think Katrine's parents didn'treport her missing?'
'They'renot in a state to miss her.'
'Andwhat do you mean by that?'
'Itmeans that fru Bratterud, who lives like a gypsy, either at home in her hovel -excuse the expression; some might call it a house – or sharing a bed with anyone of a variety of men, is an alcoholic and hardly knows how old Katrine is. Idon't think her mother remembered a single birthday while she was with us.'
'Andthe father?'
'Hedied when she was ten or eleven. Originally she came from a foster home and wasadopted.'
'Afoster home,' Frølich said. 'So Katrine was adopted by a drunk?'
'Ipresume the mother was not a drunk when she adopted Katrine.'
'Nevertheless.'
'Mistakesare made by all public authorities, Frølich. For all I know, there maybe people doing twenty years in prison because of your mistakes.'
Theyounger detective was about to contradict her, but she swept him aside: 'At thecentre we have a girl of fourteen who lost four teeth as a result of policebrutality.'
'Fourteen?Rubbish.'
'Thepeople who beat her up were more concerned with the fact that she was takingpart in an anti-racist demonstration than her age. The point is that mistakesare made everywhere, Frølich. And I have dedicated half of my life totrying to correct such mistakes. Care for drug addicts is a continual processof repair. One shot of heroin for a thousand kroner in the street can be thestart of a slow suicide or several years of fighting against addiction, costingsociety ten million kroner. Even if Katrine does end up as a statistic at somepoint, you don't need to rush to put her on the list. It would be better tofind out who killed her.'
'Wheredid she grow up?' Gunnarstranda intervened.
'Infact, I'm not sure, but I think it was Krokstadelva or Mjondalen, Stenberg,somewhere around there, in one or other of the innumerable clumps of housesbetween Drammen and Kongsberg.'
'AndKatrine's biological parents?'
'Katrineknew that her real mother died when she was very young and that was all. Ididn't talk with her about that much.'
'Whatdid you talk about?'
'Alot about her father. She really loved him. The father who died when she wasten or eleven. That may be a possible explanation for her syndrome, feelingdrawn to a father figure, but all that is just speculation.'
Gunnarstrandanodded slowly. He said: 'There's one thing we need to know. You said somethingabout sexual abuse in childhood years. Does that apply to Katrine, too?'
'Idon't know.'
'Whatdo you mean by that?'
'Katrinewas inscrutable in this respect. I have my suspicions, but I don't know forsure.'
'Whatdo you base your suspicions on?'
'Ihave my own ideas. There are often such stories behind a great many cases likehers, as I said. These symptoms of hers – prostitution, withdrawal, drugaddiction – they can be explained by a variety of factors. But picture a girlwith a strong attachment to a father, then the father dies, the mother turns todrink and strange men wander in and out of the house… I don't know. As I said,she was inscrutable.'
'Isthere anyone who could help us clear up this point? Someone who wasparticularly close to her?'
'There'sOle, of course. They were together for quite a while, even though it wassporadic.'
'Sporadic?'
'Yes,he wanted a closer relationship than she did. You have to understand… Katrinedidn't like people getting too close… then there's Henning, the conscientiousobjector you met at our place. He spent a lot of time with Katrine. There'sSigrid, a social worker with us. Sigrid Haugom. Katrine often confided in her, butI doubt Sigrid knows any more than we do. It is not our practice to keepsecrets about our patients – amongst ourselves, I mean.'
Gunnarstrandareacted. 'But isn't that what all confidentiality is based on? Do you mean thatthe patients at Vinterhagen cannot rely on the employees' ability to keepsecrets?'
Annabethstared at him in bewilderment.
'Youwere very quick to hide behind client confidentiality,' the inspectorcontinued.
'Successfultreatment depends on openness, Gunnarstranda.'
Thepoliceman glared at her.
'Infact, that is part of our ideological platform. Complete openness,' sheexplained in a gentle voice.
Gunnarstrandadropped the subject. He said: 'As far as her male circle of acquaintances wasconcerned… was there any competition? Did Katrine's boyfriend have rivals?'
'Tobe honest, I have no idea,' Annabeth said. 'Don't take too much notice of me. Imay have imagined this jealousy of Ole's. I know very little about thesethings.'
Gunnarstrandawas making motions to return to the car.
'Youdon't need to drive me back,' Annabeth said. 'I need some fresh air and it'slate. I'll stretch my legs.'
'Beforethat I need the names of everyone at the party on Saturday.'
Annabeths reflected. 'Is that really necessary?' 'I'm afraid so, fru Ås.'
Shetook a deep breath and met Frank Frølich’s eyes. 'Come on then,' shesaid. 'Take notes.'
Theysat watching her. She could have graced an illustration in a Norwegian fairytale. The long skirt, flat shoes and a small square rucksack on her back. Kjerringamed staven. The Woman with the Walking Stick. Except that this woman had nowalking stick. 'Do you know why all women teachers walk around with a rucksacklike that on their backs?' Frølich asked with a thoughtful air.
'Forbooks,' Gunnarstranda suggested.
Theother man shook his head. 'It fits exactly into the kitchen sink,' Frølichsaid.
'Therucksack?' Gunnarstranda asked.
'Yes,so they're firmly in position when their old man wants to give them one.' Frølichlaughed at his own joke.
Gunnarstrandapeered up at him with disgust.
'Therucksack on the woman's back,' Frølich explained, 'is stuck in thesink…'
'Iunderstood,' Gunnarstranda cut in. 'I don't think being single is doing you anygood.' He stood up. 'You'd better check out the travel agency. And now we havea few names to be getting on with.'
'Andyou?'
Gunnarstrandalooked at his watch. 'I have to go home. Change clothes. Go to the theatre.'
'You?'Frølich burst out in dismay. 'To the theatre?'
Gunnarstrandaignored the comment. Instead he perused Frølich’s notes. 'I'll take inthis Sigrid Haugom on the way there,' he said. 'See you.'
Chapter Seven
Shemust have been a nice sort of girl, thought Frank, pondering what the tattooaround her navel could have meant. It didn't have to mean anything. Eventeenage girls had tattoos these days, around the tops of their arms, on theirshoulders, buttocks, breasts. People had tattoos everywhere. But, he went on tothink, that special tattoo still suggested that he might never have beenparticularly close to her. He had male friends with tattoos; Ragnar Travis hadtattoos all over his upper torso. However, since he did not know any women withtattoos he automatically assumed it was probable that he would not have got toknow this woman.