Knut Jensvoll didn't hear the car because he was working with an electric drill, trying to put up a shelf where he could leave his wet trainers to dry after exercising. When he stopped for a moment, he heard the doorbell. He peered out the window and saw Sejer looming on the top step. He'd had a feeling they might come. He took a moment to gather his thoughts, smoothed down his clothes and his hair. He had already anticipated several questions. He felt prepared.
One thought was uppermost in Jensvoll's mind: had they found out about the rape? That had to be the reason why they were here. Once a criminal, always a criminal; that was a maxim he knew well. He assumed a strained expression, but then realised that this might make them suspicious; so he pulled himself together and tried a smile instead. Then he remembered that Annie was dead, and went back to the strained mask.
'Police. Can we come in?'
Jensvoll nodded. 'I just have to close the door to the laundry room.' He waved them inside, disappeared for a moment, and returned at once. He cast a worried glance at Skarre, who was fishing a notebook out of his jacket. Jensvoll was older than they had expected, maybe even close to 50, and thickset. But his weight was well distributed; his body was firm and muscular, healthy and well-nourished, with good colour in his face, a thick mane of red hair, and an elegant, neatly trimmed moustache.
'I take it this has something to do with Annie?' he said.
Sejer nodded.
'I have never been so shocked in my life. I knew her well, so I think I have good reason to say that. But it's been a while since she left the team. That was a tragedy, by the way, because no one could replace her. Now we've got a real dunce out there who tends to duck when the ball comes towards her. But at least she fills up half the width of the goal.'
He stopped his babbling and blushed a little.
'Yes, it's a real tragedy,' Sejer said, somewhat more acidly than he had intended. 'Has it been a long time since you last saw her?'
'As I said, she left the team. That was last autumn. In November, I think.' He looked Sejer in the eye.
'Excuse me, but that sounds a little odd. She lived only a few hundred metres up the hill, didn't she?'
'Yes, no, well, I probably drove past her now and then. I thought you meant since I last had anything to do with her. In a proper sense, at practice. But I've seen her since then, of course. Downtown, maybe at the grocery shop.'
'Then let me put the question this way: When did you last see Annie?'
Jensvoll had to think about it. 'I don't know if I can remember. It must have been a while ago.'
'We have plenty of time.'
'Two or three weeks ago, maybe. At the post office, I think.'
'Did you talk to her?'
'Just said hello. She wasn't particularly talkative of late.'
'Why did Annie stop being a goalkeeper?'
'If only I knew.' He shrugged. 'I'm afraid I pressured her hard to change her mind, but it didn't do any good. She was fed up with it. Well, I don't really believe that, but that's what she said. Wanted to run instead, she said. And that's what she did, all right – day and night. I often drove past her on the plateau. Running full speed, long legs, expensive trainers. Holland spared no expense when it came to that girl.'
He was still waiting for them to drag the skeleton out of the closet; he had no hope that it would be avoided.
'Do you live alone here?'
'I was divorced a while ago. My wife took the children and left, so now I'm on my own, and I like it this way. Don't have a lot of time to spare after I finish my job and sports practice. I coach a boys' team too, and I play on the Old Boys team. I'm in and out of the shower half the day.'
'You didn't believe her when she said she was tired of it – so what do you think the real reason was?'
'I have no idea. But she had a boyfriend, and those kinds of things take up time. He wasn't especially athletic, by the way, a pipe-cleaner with skinny legs. Pale and slight, like a lima bean. He came to the matches once in a while, sat like a lump on the bench and never said a word. Just watched the ball going back and forth, back and forth. When they left, he wasn't even allowed to carry her bag. He wasn't the right type for her; she was a lot tougher than that.'
'They were still together.'
'Is that right? Well, each to his own.'
Sejer nodded and kept his thoughts to himself. 'I'm required to ask you this question. Where were you last Monday between 11 a.m. and 2 p.m.?'
'On Monday? You mean… on that day? At work, of course.'
'And this can be confirmed by the warehouse?'
'I'm out driving a lot. We have home delivery, you see.'
'So you were in your vehicle? Alone?'
'Part of the time I was in my truck. I delivered two wardrobes to a house on Rodtangen – that much, at least, they can confirm.'
'When were you there?'
'Between 1 p.m. and 2 p.m., I think.'
'Be a little more precise, Jensvoll.'
'Hmmm… I suppose it was closer to 2 p.m.'
Sejer did the calculation in his head. 'And the hours before that?'
'Well, I was in and out. I overslept. And I grabbed a half hour at the tanning salon. We manage our own time, pretty much. Some days I have to put in overtime, which I don't get paid for. So I don't feel guilty. Even my boss has a tendency to…'
'Where were you, Jensvoll?'
'I got a late start that day,' he said, clearing his throat. 'A couple of us were out on the town on Sunday night. It's ridiculous, of course, to go out on the town on a Sunday when you know you have to get up and go to work, but that's how it was. I didn't get home until 1.30 a.m.'
'Who were you with?'
'A friend. Erik Fritzner.'
'Fritzner? Annie's neighbour?'
'Yes.'
'So…' Sejer nodded to himself and stared at the coach, at his wavy shock of hair and his tanned face. 'Do you think Annie was an attractive girl?'
Jensvoll knew what he was getting at. 'What kind of question is that?'
'Answer it, please.'
'Of course. You've seen her photo.'
'Yes, I have,' Sejer said. 'She wasn't just nice to look at, she was quite grown up for her age. Mature, in a way, more than most teenage girls. Don't you agree?'
'Yes, I suppose so. Although I was more concerned with her expertise in the goal.'
'Of course. That makes sense. Otherwise? Did you ever have any conflicts with the girls?'
'What type of conflicts?'
'Any kind,' Sejer said deliberately, 'regardless of type.'
'Naturally I did. Teenage girls are quite volatile. But it was just the normal issues. No one wanted to replace Annie in goal, no one wanted to sit on the bench. Periods of unstoppable giggling. Boyfriends in the stands.'
'What about Annie?'
'What about her?'
'Did you ever have a disagreement with Annie?'
He crossed his arms and nodded. 'Well, yes, I did. On the day she called me and wanted to quit the team. I said a few desperate words that I should have held back. Maybe she took it as a compliment – who knows? She ended the conversation, hung up on me, and handed in her team uniform the next day. Done with it.'
'And that's the only time the two of you had a falling out?'
'Yes, that's right. The only time.'
