Skarre grabbed his jacket and left. Sejer wandered around his office. He studied the photos on the wall of Ingrid, his daughter, and her son, Matteus, a tall, athletic teenager. He stood there looking at them, reminding himself of the magnitude of losing those closest to you. He could not articulate it, but for obvious reasons he would have to find the words. Elfrid Løwe would look him in the eye and demand an explanation.
She saw them from the window.
She ran out of the house immediately. Sejer walked across the gravel with heavy, measured steps. It was his slow pace that confirmed her worst fears.
'Elfrid Løwe?'
She ignored his outstretched hand. Instead she clung to the fence.
'Could we come inside, please?' Sejer asked.
She shook her head in defiance. She was slender and small like her son and she wore a short turquoise and pink dress with a floral pattern. She began picking nervously at a ribbon on the neckline of the dress. Her hands were lean with clearly visible veins.
'I want to hear it right here,' she said. 'I want to know right now.'
She shook her head again.
'So tell me,' she burst out, 'please tell me what's happened!'
Sejer placed a hand on her arm. 'I want you to go inside and sit down.'
Finally she went back inside the house. She stood on the living room floor shifting her weight from one foot to the other in a nervous, rhythmical movement.
'Sit down, please,' Sejer told her.
His authoritative voice made her sit on the sofa.
'We have found a little boy,' he started, 'in Linde Forest, not far from the lake. He's been dead a few hours. And I'm so sorry to have to tell you this, but he matches your description of Jonas August.'
'No,' she said, shaking her head. 'No.'
'We think it's him,' Sejer said.
She continued shaking her head. She looked like a sullen child who has been thwarted.
'We'll take him to the Institute of Forensic Medicine in Oslo tomorrow morning,' Sejer said. 'You'll need to come with us and together we will see him.'
'Tomorrow?' she said blankly. Her hands scrambled across the coffee table. 'But where is he now? Where will he be tonight?' She lifted one hand and bit into her knuckles while she waited for a response. She stared at Skarre now, her eyes demanding a reply.
'We haven't been able to move him yet,' Skarre said.
'You haven't been able to move him? I don't understand.'
'We need to examine the crime scene and the surrounding area,' Skarre said. 'It takes time, we won't be able to finish this evening. So we'll be working through the night.'
She punched the air wildly with her fists.
'You can't come here telling me he has to stay in the forest all night,' she screamed. 'For God's sake, he's only seven years old!'
'I'm afraid he has to,' Skarre said. 'The crime scene officers haven't finished.'
'No,' she protested, 'you have to take him to a hospital, so he'll have a bed! There are animals up there and it'll be cold at night and I just won't allow it.' She leapt up from the sofa and howled. 'I won't allow it!'
Sejer stood up, but she refused to be calmed down.
'We have a lot of work ahead of us, Elfrid,' he said. 'It's vital for us to find the man who did this as quickly as possible. I give you my word that he won't be lying there on his own. Our people will be guarding him the whole time.'
'We've put up a tent,' Skarre explained, 'there's light and heating.'
She hid her mouth with one hand.
'Why didn't I go to meet him?' she whispered. 'I can't bear it. I should have walked down to meet him and none of this would have happened. He's only seven years old, I should have known that something might happen, I should have known!'
Her words turned into terrified sobs.
'What about his father?' Sejer asked. 'Jonas August's father. Does he live here with you?'
She shook her head.
'We don't talk to him.'
'It would be best if you would call him,' Sejer said, 'so he can come with us tomorrow morning to the Institute of Forensic Medicine. At least you'll have each other.'
'We were never a couple,' she said. Again she picked at the ribbon on her dress. She had short blonde hair, she looked like a teenage boy in girls' clothing.
'I have no idea where he is, he doesn't know about Jonas. He left me before I had time to tell him I was pregnant. Jonas is a secret.'
'So there's no one we can contact?' Sejer asked.
'Why do you think it's Jonas?' she asked.
'His clothes,' Skarre explained.
'But all boys wear T-shirts and shorts, they all wear the same things and it's been a warm day. Are you telling me that the boy up at Linde Forest is wearing a T-shirt and red shorts?'
Skarre thought about the shorts, which they still had not found. He fought a silent battle trying to decide how much information to give her.
'We think it's Jonas,' he said.
She grew angry and her cheeks became flushed. 'Was he wearing red shorts?'
Skarre looked straight into her eyes. It cost him a great deal.
'We haven't found his shorts,' he conceded.
'You haven't found his shorts? But surely he was wearing them?'
A hint of suspicion emerged in her face. Skarre struggled to find the right words, the ones he would have to say out loud.
'The boy we found wasn't wearing any shorts,' he admitted.
Elfrid Løwe paled. The men watched as her imagination ran riot.
'We really don't want to speculate as to what might have happened,' Sejer said calmly. 'It remains to be seen. But we need to be honest with you. We have good reasons to fear that the dead boy is Jonas. I want you to prepare yourself for that. But when it comes to what happened to him, we shouldn't guess.'
'Perhaps you've made a mistake,' she said, biting her knuckle once more. 'And this might just be a routine visit. It could be, couldn't it?' Her eyes pleaded with them; they were dark blue like Jonas August's.
'Yes,' Sejer said reluctantly.
'And this boy,' she asked again, 'the boy you've found. How did he die?'
'We don't know yet.'
'But when will you know? How long will I have to wait?'
'Until the autopsy report is ready.'
'You intend to carry out an autopsy on him?'
'We have to in cases like this.'
'That means you'll have to cut him,' she gasped.
'An autopsy is an important piece of work which is essential to our investigation,' Skarre explained and realised as soon as he had spoken how insensitive his words sounded.
'I know what it means,' she screamed. 'Jonas will be cut open and all his organs will be removed and replaced with newspaper, so he'll be lying in his coffin stuffed with rubbish and I'll have to live with that for the rest of my life. My little boy stuffed full of rubbish!'
She buried her face in her hands. Skarre feared that she was going to have a nervous breakdown.
'The most important thing we can do for him now is find out what happened to him,' he said.
'Can I withhold my consent?' she whispered. 'Can I stop the autopsy?'
'Not in a case like this,' Sejer said. 'The autopsy will provide us with crucial information. Besides,' he added, and he hated having to say it, 'there are other considerations to take into account. Other children might be at risk. Do you understand?'
She nodded.
'Is there someone you would like us to call?' he asked.
'Not until we're sure,' she whispered. 'You might have made a mistake and I don't want to worry my friends unnecessarily. Or my parents, they won't be able to handle it. They're not very well, my father's got a weak heart and my mother's got Parkinson's. They won't be able to cope with this,' she said. 'I don't care what you say, but I choose to believe that you've made a mistake. There are lots of those T-shirts, they sell them everywhere. We'll drive up to Linde Forest, we'll go right now, I have to see him, you can't deny me that, he's my Jonas and I'm in charge!'
She had got up from the sofa and was heading for the hall; her desperation had taken over.