kroner, but that's not really expensive. When I'm… when I can afford it, I'm going to get a Super Meteor with carbon limbs. In sky-blue metallic.'
Sejer was impressed. 'Who's teaching you how to shoot?'
'Christian comes twice a week. I'm going to be in the national championships pretty soon. He says I have talent.'
'You know that a bow is a deadly weapon, don't you?'
'Of course I do,' the boy replied defiantly.
He knew what was coming. He bowed his head and shut his eyes to receive the rebuke. By closing off his ears he could reduce the words to the sound of a fly buzzing round and round.
'And when you sneak around, other people can't hear you. If you come upon someone picking berries, you could kill them by mistake. Have you ever thought of that, Kannick?'
'There's never anybody up in the woods.'
'Except for Errki?'
Kannick blushed. 'Yes, except for Errki. But picking berries isn't his thing at all.'
They both fell silent. Sejer could hear muted voices coming from the courtyard. The boy looked up at him and bit his lip.
'Where is Halldis now?' he asked softly.
'In the basement of the Municipal Hospital.'
'Is it true that they put them in a refrigerator?'
Sejer gave him a melancholy smile. 'It's actually more like a long drawer. Did you know her husband?' he asked, to change the subject.
'No, but I remember him. He was always driving his tractor. He never talked to us, like Halldis did. He wasn't interested in children. And besides, he had a dog. When Thorvald died, the dog died too. It stopped eating.'
This seemed to bemuse the boy.
'How long do you think you're going to stay at Guttebakken?'
'I don't know.' He stared at his knees. 'I'm not the one who decides.'
'You're not?'
'They do whatever they want, no matter what I want,' the boy said.
'But you're doing well here, aren't you? I asked Margunn, and she said you were.'
'I don't have anywhere else to go. My mother is unfit to take care of me, and I need help.'
Sejer could hear the whine in his voice. 'Life isn't easy, is it? What do you think particularly makes it difficult?'
Kannick thought for a moment and then repeated the words he had heard so many times. 'I act before I think.'
'That's called being impulsive,' Sejer said, consolingly. 'And it's all part of being a child. Most things sort themselves out, over time. Most things. But I wonder,' he asked, 'could you see if Errki was wearing gloves?'
Kannick blinked in surprise, his eyes widening. 'Gloves? In this heat? I didn't really notice his hands. Maybe he had them in his pockets. I'm not sure.'
'The reason I ask,' Sejer said 'is that it's important to identify fingerprints. We found several inside the house. You're sure that you didn't see or hear anyone else up there?'
'I'm sure,' Kannick said, nodding vigorously. 'I didn't see anyone else up there.'
'If there was someone else,' Sejer said, 'Errki might have seen them, even if you didn't.'
'You don't think it was Errki?' Kannick asked surprised.
'I'm not thinking anything one way or the other.'
'But he's crazy.'
'He's probably not exactly like the rest of us,' Sejer said, smiling. 'Let's just say that he needs help. But I suspect that a lot of people around here are hoping that Errki is guilty. People like to be right, you know. What do you think Halldis would say,' he asked, 'if Errki came wandering into her garden? She knew him, didn't she?'
'I suppose she did.'
'Do you think she was scared of him?'
'She wasn't scared of much, I'll tell you that. But Errki's the kind who just takes whatever he wants. In the shops. Maybe he went right into her house. That's how he is.'
'And she got furious?'
'She could get really angry if we didn't do what she said. Errki never does what people say.'
'I see. So it's probably best if we find him, wouldn't you say?'
'Will they put him in a straitjacket?'
Sejer laughed. 'Let's hope he doesn't have to go through that. But maybe you boys should stay close to home while this is going on, and not go running off to the woods for a while. Until we find out what happened.'
'That's OK with me,' said Kannick. 'Anyway, Margunn confiscated my bow.'
The boys stood in a group, watching Sejer as he got into his car. He didn't have time to talk to them, to bring a little breath of fresh air from the outside into the closed world in which they lived. They looked at him with a mixture of defiance and awe. A few of them had already had trouble with the police, some several times; others lived with it hanging over their heads as a constant threat. The small dark-haired boy named Simon waved as Sejer drove off. He thought about them as he headed towards the Municipal Hospital. That small group of sullen boys who hadn't managed to find their place in the world. The kind of group that would interest Sara Struel. A group of rebels.
CHAPTER 15
'Elsi Johrma.' Sejer wrote the name for the nurse at the reception desk. 'She was born September 4th, 1950. She died in an accident on January 18th, 1980, and was brought here to the Municipal Hospital. I don't know whether she was dead on arrival or whether she died later from her injuries. But somewhere in this building there must be a file on her. Would you please see what you can find?'
Curiosity was apparent in the nurse's eyes, but at the same time she looked reluctant. It was holiday time, they were understaffed, and it was unbearably hot. Sejer looked around the room, a cramped office with files and books piled up in big heaps. The place was not exactly spacious.
'That was 16 years ago,' she said, as if he hadn't worked that out for himself. 'Since then we've acquired computers, but her case is unlikely to be entered in the database, so I'll have to go down to the basement archives to look for it.'
'Look under 1980, the letter 'J'. I'm sure you know your way around down there, and I have time to wait,' he told her.
She was in her mid-twenties, tall and sturdy with her hair in a ponytail. She slid her glasses down her nose and stared at him over the rims of the red frames.
'If I don't find anything straight away, you'll have to come back later.'
She left, and he sat patiently, looking around for something to read. The only thing he found was the Cancer Association journal, which didn't tempt him. Instead he sat lost in thought. In a place like this he couldn't keep at bay the memories of the time when restlessly he wandered endless corridors, while Elise's body was being tested and analysed, medicated and irradiated, growing weaker and weaker. It was the smell, and the sound of muted voices. He was worlds away when the nurse appeared in the door.
'This was all I could find.'
She handed him a one-page admittance report.
'But what about the autopsy report?' he asked.
'It wasn't there.'
'But could you look for it? It's very important.'
'It'll have to wait until Sunday, if I have some extra time. For now, this was all I could find.'
'Thank you,' he said humbly. 'Can I take it with me?'
She handed him a form, which he signed.
