Don't Look Back

man didn't exist. 'Solvi is the only one who's the same. I'm actually surprised that she can be the same after what's happened. But then she's not like other people. We have to take the children we've been given, though, don't we?'

'And… Annie?' Sejer said.

'Yes, Annie,' he murmured. 'Annie was never the same. I think she realised that we're all going to die. I remember the same feeling when I was a boy, when my mother died; that was the worst thing. Not that she was dead and gone. But that I was going to die too. And my father, and everyone I knew.'

His gaze seemed fixed on something far away, and Sejer listened with both hands resting on his desk.

'We have more to talk about, Eddie,' he said after a while. 'But there's something you should know first.'

'I don't know if I can stand to hear anything else.'

'I can't keep it from you. Not with good conscience.'

'What is it?'

'Can you remember if Annie ever complained of feeling pain?'

'No… I can't. Except from the time before she got shock-absorbent trainers. Her feet used to hurt.'

'Did she ever mention having abdominal pain.'

Holland gave him an uneasy look.

'I never heard her say anything like that. You should ask Ada.'

'I'm asking you because it's my understanding that you were the person closest to her.'

'Yes. But those kinds of girl's things… I never heard about anything like that.'

'She had a tumour in her abdomen,' Sejer said in a low voice.

'A tumour?'

'About as big as an egg. Malignant. It had spread to her liver.'

Now Holland's whole body grew rigid.

'They must be mistaken,' he said. 'Nobody was healthier than Annie.'

'She had a malignant tumour in her abdomen,' Sejer repeated. 'And in a short time she would have been very sick. There was a high chance that her illness would have led to death.'

'Are you saying she would have died anyway?'

Holland's voice had an aggressive edge to it.

'That's what the pathologist says.'

'Am I supposed to be happy that she didn't have to suffer?' he screamed, a drop of spit striking Sejer on the forehead. Holland hid his face in his hands. 'No, no, I didn't mean that,' he said, his voice choking, 'but I don't understand what's happening. How could there be so many things I didn't know about?'

'Either she didn't know herself, or else she concealed the pain and purposely decided not to consult a doctor. There's no mention of it in her medical records.'

'It probably doesn't say anything at all in them,' Holland said. 'There was never anything wrong with her. She had a couple of vaccinations over the years, but that was all.'

'There's also one thing I want you to do,' Sejer said. 'I want you to talk to Ada and ask her to come down here to the station. We need to have her fingerprints.'

Holland smiled wearily and leaned back in his chair. He hadn't slept much, and nothing seemed to be standing still any more. The chief inspector's face was flickering slightly, along with the curtain at the window, or maybe there was a draft, he wasn't quite sure.

'We found two fingerprints on Annie's belt buckle. One of them was Annie's. One of them might be your wife's. She told us that she often laid out Annie's clothes in the morning, so it might be her fingerprint on the buckle. If it's not hers, then it belongs to the killer. He undressed her. He must have touched the buckle.'

At last Holland understood.

'Please ask your wife to come here as soon as possible. She should ask for Skarre.'

'That eczema you have,' Holland said suddenly, nodding at Sejer's hand. 'I've heard that ash is supposed to help.'

'Ash?'

'You smooth ash over the area. Ash is the purest substance that exists. It contains salts and minerals.'

Sejer didn't reply. Holland's thoughts seemed to withdraw inward. Sejer left him in peace. It was so quiet in the room that they could almost feel Annie's presence.

CHAPTER 9

Halvor ate his pork sausage and boiled cabbage at the counter in the kitchen. Afterwards he cleaned up and put a blanket over his grandmother, who was dozing on the sofa. He went to his room, drew the curtains, and sat down in front of the monitor. This was how he spent most of his spare time now. He had tried out a lot of the music that he knew Annie liked, typing in titles and the names of musicians she had in her stack of CDs. Then movie titles, rather half-heartedly, because it wouldn't be like Annie to choose something like that. The task seemed insurmountable. She could have changed passwords several times, the way they did in the defence ministry to protect military secrets. They used passwords that changed automatically several times a second. He had read about it in a magazine from Ra Data. A password that kept changing was almost impossible to crack. He tried to remember when exactly he and Annie had created their own files and attached passwords to them. It was several months ago, sometime late in the autumn. He knew she wouldn't have chosen anything at random, she would have used something that had made an impression on her, or something that was familiar and dear to her. He knew quite a lot about things that were familiar and dear to Annie, and so he kept going. Until he heard his grandmother calling from the living room that she was done with her nap. Then he took a break to make coffee for her and butter a few pieces of lefse or some waffles, if they had any. To be polite, he watched TV for a while, keeping her company. But as soon as he felt able, he slipped back to his room. She didn't complain. He sat there until midnight, then dragged himself to bed and turned off the light. He always lay still for a while, listening, before sleep came. Often it didn't come at all, and then he would slip into his grandmother's room and steal a sleeping pill from her bottle. He didn't hear the footsteps outside going back and forth. As he waited to fall asleep, he thought about Annie. Blue was her favourite colour. The chocolate bar she liked best was a Dove with raisins. He made a mental note of several words and stored them away for later. The important thing was not to give up. When he finally found the right password, it would seem so obvious that she had chosen it, and he would say to himself: I should have thought of that before!

Outside, the courtyard was dark and quiet. The entrance to the empty kennel gaped like an open, toothless mouth, but it wasn't visible from the road, and a thief might still think there was a dog inside. Behind the kennel stood the shed with a modest woodpile, his bicycle, an old black-and-white TV, and a pile of newspapers. He always forgot when there was a paper drive, and he didn't read the local paper any more. In the far corner, behind a foam mattress, lay Annie's school bag.

He had run out to Bruvann and back, thirteen kilometres. Had tried to stay below the pain threshold, at least on the home stretch. Elise used to pour an ice-cold Farris and hand it to him when he came out of the shower. Often he would have only a towel wrapped around his waist. Now no one stood waiting for him, except for his dog, who lifted his head expectantly when Sejer opened the door and let the steam out. He got dressed in the bathroom and then found a bottle for himself. He snapped off the bottle cap against the counter edge and put the beer to his lips. The doorbell rang as he was half-done with the bottle. Sejer's doorbell didn't ring very often, so he was a little taken aback. He raised an admonishing finger at the dog and went to open the door. Outside stood Skarre, by the railing, with one foot on the stairs, as if to indicate that he would retreat quickly if he had come at a bad time.

'I was in the neighbourhood,' he said.

He looked different. His curls were gone, sheared off close to his scalp. His hair had acquired a darker sheen, making him look older. And his ears actually stuck out a bit.

'Nice haircut,' Sejer said. 'Come on in.'

Kollberg came leaping, as he always did.

'He's a little overzealous,' Sejer said. 'But he's good-natured.'

'He ought to be, at that size. He's like a wolf.'