Don't Look Back

clothing afterwards.'

'Presumably. But she wasn't assaulted. She's not a virgin, but she wasn't sexually assaulted, or mistreated in any other way. She drowned, plain and simple. Her clothes were taken off, nice and easy after her death, all the buttons are in place on her shirt, none of the seams are ripped. Maybe he wanted to interfere with her, but was scared off by something. Or maybe he lost his nerve, or his virility; it could have been anything.'

'Or maybe he just wanted us to believe that he's a sex offender.'

'Why would he want to do that?'

'To hide his real motive. And that could mean there's something behind all this that could be traced, that it wasn't an impulsive act by a disturbed individual. And besides, she must have gone with him willingly. She must have known him, or he must have made an impression on her. And from what I understand, it wasn't easy to make an impression on Annie Holland.'

He opened a button in his jacket and leaned over the counter.

'Go ahead. Tell me what you found.'

'A 15-year-old girl,' Snorrason said, intoning like a minister, 'height 174 centimetres, weight 65 kilos, minimum of fat; for the most part the fat had been converted into muscle due to hard exercise. Perhaps too hard for a girl of 15. They should take things a little easy at that age, but that's probably not so simple once they've started. So, a lot of muscle, more than many boys of the same age. Her lung capacity was excellent, which would indicate that it took a long time for her to lose consciousness.'

Sejer looked down at the worn linoleum and noticed that the pattern was similar to the one in his bathroom.

'How long does it actually take?' he asked. 'How long does it take for an adult to drown?'

'Anywhere from two to ten minutes, depending on the physical condition. If she was in as good a condition as I think, it most likely took closer to ten.'

Up to ten minutes, Sejer thought. Multiply that by 60, and that makes 600 seconds. Think of all he could do in ten minutes. Take a shower. Eat a meal.

'Her lungs are enlarged. If she reacted as most people would, she first took a couple of deep breaths as she went under, what we call 'respiration de surprise'. Then she pressed her lips together until she lost consciousness, and after that a limited amount of water forced its way into her lungs. In the brain and bone marrow I found the presence of diatoms, a type of silica algae; not much, it's true, but that lake wasn't very polluted. The cause of death was drowning.

'She had no scars from any operations, no deformities, no signs of malnutrition, no tattoos, no skin blemishes of any kind. She had her natural hair colour, her fingernails were unpolished and clipped short, there were no particulates of interest except for mud. Very nice teeth. A single ceramic filling in a lower molar.

'No traces of alcohol or other chemicals in her blood. No marks from injections. Ate a good meal that day, bread and milk. No irregularities in the brain. She has never been pregnant. And,' he sighed suddenly and fixed his gaze on Sejer, 'she never would have been.'

'What? Why not?'

'She had a large tumour in her left ovary that had started spreading to her liver. Malignant.'

Sejer sat there and stared at him. 'Are you saying that she was seriously ill?'

'Yes. Are you saying that you didn't know?'

'Her parents didn't know either.' He shook his head in disbelief. 'Otherwise they would have said something, wouldn't they? Is it possible that she could not have known herself?'

'Well, you'll need to find out if she had a doctor, and whether it was known. But she would have felt pain in her abdomen, at least during menstruation. She trained hard. Perhaps she had so many endorphins circulating in her body that the pain was masked. But the truth is, she was done for. I doubt they could have saved her. Liver cancer is virulent.'

He nodded towards the gurney where Annie's head and feet were clearly outlined under the sheet. 'She would have been dead in a matter of months.'

The news made Sejer completely lose track of why he was there. It took him a minute to collect himself.

'Should I tell them? Her parents?'

'You'll have to make that decision yourself. But they're going to want to know what I have discovered.'

'It'll be like losing her all over again.'

'Yes, it will.'

'They're going to blame themselves for not knowing.'

'Probably.'

'What about her clothes?'

'Soaked through with muddy water, except for the anorak, which I sent over to you. But she had a belt with a brass buckle.'

'Yes?'

'A big buckle shaped like a half-moon with an eye and a mouth. The lab found fingerprints on it. Two different ones. One of them was Annie's.'

Sejer narrowed his eyes. 'And the other?'

'Unfortunately, it's not complete; it's not much to go on.'

'Damn,' Sejer said.

'The owner of that print clearly has something to do with all this. But it should be useful in eliminating people. That's something, isn't it?'

'What about the mark on her neck? Can you tell if he was right-handed?'

'No, I can't. But since Annie was in such good shape, he couldn't have been a weakling. There must have been a struggle. Strange that she's so unmarked.'

Sejer stood up, 'Well, she's not untouched any more.'

'Oh yes, she is! You can have a look for yourself. This is an art, and I'm not sloppy about it.'

'When can I get this in writing?'

'I'll let you know, and you can send over that young officer with the curls. And what about you? Have you found a lead?'

'No,' he said. 'Not a thing. I can't see any reason in the world why anyone would kill Annie Holland.'

Maybe Annie had chosen the title of a song and made that her password – maybe that flute tune she liked so much, 'Annie's Song'.

Halvor brooded as he sat in front of the screen. The door to the living room stood open in case his grandmother called. She didn't have much of a voice left, and it took a great effort for her to get up from her armchair when her arthritis was bad. He leaned his chin on his hands and stared at the screen. 'Access denied. Password required.' He was actually hungry, but like so much else right now, that had to take low priority.

At Headquarters Sejer sat reading a thick stack of pages covered with text and stapled at one corner. The initials BCH, standing for Bjerkeli Children's Home, kept popping up. Halvor's childhood made for depressing reading. His mother spent most of her time in bed, whimpering and fragile, with frayed nerves and an ever-growing armoury of sedatives in reach. She couldn't bear bright lights or loud noises. The children weren't allowed to scream or shout. Halvor had certainly been through the wringer, Sejer thought. Impressive that he could hold down a steady job and take care of his grandmother on top of everything else.

Halvor typed various song titles into the blank field as they occurred to him. 'Access denied' kept appearing, rather like a fly that you think you've killed but keeps on buzzing around. He'd been through all the numeric codes he could think of, all the relevant birth-dates and even the serial number on her bicycle which he'd found on the extra key he kept for her in a jar. She had a DBS Intruder bike and insisted that he keep one of the keys at his house. Which reminded him that he should give it back to Eddie, and at the same time he typed 'Intruder' on the screen.

His father's alcohol problem and his mother's delicate nerves had marked the family from the outset. Halvor and his brother bumbled around in the house, getting their own food, when there was any. Their father was usually in town, first drinking up his salary cheque and later his welfare payments. A few kind neighbours helped out as best they could, in secrecy behind their father's back. As the years passed, he became more and more violent. The boys would retreat to their room and lock the door. They grew thinner and quieter.

Annie probably hadn't used a number password, he thought. She was a girl and would have come up with