Sejer looked outside in case Edwin appeared on the road, massive with his dark, curly hair. He had experienced it before, he had seen the passionate reunion between a mother and her child when all dark nightmares had been slain. That was how he wanted it to turn out, he beseeched fate for a happy ending. For one horrifying moment he imagined child number three going missing and how the pressure from the public and the media would make his world collapse. He imagined criticism and being incapable of making decisions, endless press conferences with barrages of questions and condemnation and sleepless nights. He looked at a shelf with books, his eyes scanned their spines.
'Yes,' he said, 'that's correct. No, he's still missing, we'll stay here until her boyfriend arrives, he's on his way and he'll stay the night. We're calling Edwin's friends at regular intervals, we're having trouble getting hold of them. We've got two cars out looking, but we haven't heard from them yet. Yes, we'll pop in. That's fine.'
He put the mobile back in his pocket. Thirty minutes later they greeted Ingemar Brenner. Tulla collapsed sobbing in his arms. They said goodbye for the time being and headed back to the station. Five kilometres later they drove through the centre of Huseby. Skarre had a map in his lap and was trying to familiarise himself with the area.
'There's a new development to the west of Loch Bonna,' he said, 'and the roads there have quite unusual names. Someone from the council must have a vivid imagination. Listen to this. Detour and Shortcut. Sideline. First Exit. Last Exit. And this is the winner,' he said. 'There's a tiny little lane here called Naughty Corner.'
'I've heard of that one,' Sejer said.
'Where do you live?' Skarre joked. 'I live in the Naughty Corner and have done so all my life.' He folded up the map. 'I can't believe I just said that,' he said, embarrassed.
'Why not?'
'We might be dealing with an incredibly dangerous man and here I am making stupid jokes.'
'It's all right to have a bit of fun at work,' Sejer said. 'We don't need to feel bad about that.'
'Thank you.'
'It's just comic relief. Go on, if it makes you feel better.'
Half an hour later they were back at the police station. Skarre slumped in front of his computer as was his wont. Sejer started reading through his notes. Every now and then he would write a comment, a line to support why the evidence so far indicated that they might be dealing with a paedophile. You are weak, lonely and manipulative, he wrote, and you may be clever and intelligent, but you lack empathy. You seduce small children, you tell them that what the two of you have is unique and special. Don't tell anyone. I'll take care of you. You'll get whatever you want.
He chewed the end of his pen for a while before carrying on.
If you're not caught, statistics show you will abuse up to one hundred and fifty children. And if you are caught and everything comes out into the open, all the children you've abused will feel terribly betrayed because they all thought they were the only one, the special one. That's when disaster strikes, that's when their world falls apart. And you have not only stolen their sexuality, but also their entire future and all the things you did to them will haunt them until the day they die.
He was startled when Skarre cried out.
'What's happened?' he asked.
'Ingemar Brenner,' Skarre said. 'Tulla Asalid's boyfriend. I ran a check on him, just for form's sake, really, and there's only one person by that name in this area. He lives in Molokka and he was born in '64. That sounds about right, doesn't it? That he's in his early forties?'
'Yes,' Sejer said. 'That sounds right. Why is he there?'
'He has two previous convictions. For fraud.'
'You don't say!' Sejer rushed over.
'Both charges were made by ex-girlfriends,' Skarre said. 'He conned them out of their savings.'
'Are we talking large amounts of money?'
Skarre read from the screen: '120,000 kroner in '96 and 210,000 kroner in '99. He got a custodial sentence on both occasions.'
'And where was he sent?'
'To Sem Prison.'
Skarre shook his head.
'He's in Huseby now, comforting her. And all the time his real interest is her money. If she has any. Should we get involved?'
'Yes,' Sejer declared. 'We should, but not tonight. For all we know he might have come clean about it to her; for all we know he might have turned over a new leaf.'
'Highly unlikely,' Skarre said.
'Let's make another call,' Sejer said. 'Try Mathilde Nohr's mobile.'
Skarre tapped in the number. She answered after four rings.
'The police.' She sounded taken aback. 'I see. What's wrong?'
'You have a son named Sverre?'
'Yes, that's right.'
He could hear that she was breathless.
'Is Sverre around right now?'
'Yes, he is. We're at my mother's, he's sitting in front of the television. What's this about?'
'Please would you ask him if he was with Edwin Asalid today?'
'Edwin? Yes, of course. Just a moment please, I'll go and ask him, he's in the next room.'
Skarre could hear her voice growing more distant. Some questions and answers. Then she returned.
'He was out with Isak and Edwin,' she said. 'They went down to the loch. To Guttestranda.'
'Did they walk back home together?'
And this was when the penny dropped. He was a policeman calling to get information about Edwin. She was hit by the full force of what had happened at Linde Forest.
'Dear God,' she gasped. 'Please don't tell me he's gone missing?'
Again she had a muffled conversation with her son. Skarre could make out fragments, he heard the word 'police' and 'Edwin'.
'He was picked up by someone, I think, someone in a white car.'
CHAPTER 22
September 11th.
'Have you had a letter from your school?' Sejer asked.
'What letter?' Sverre and Isak looked at one another, they stood shoulder to shoulder in the doorway. Oh, yes, they had got the letter. They had read it together with the grown-ups and had a serious talk about what it meant. But the letter was about the car that waited outside the school, not the one seen driving down to Loch Bonna.
'Whom did you think it was?' Sejer said. 'Who picked up Edwin?'
'An uncle, maybe?' Sverre said.
'Does Edwin have an uncle?'
He grew nervous and shrugged.
'Did it look as if they knew each other?'
'They were talking through the window,' Sverre said.
His mother, Mathilde Nohr, pinched her son's hair at the back of his neck.
'Now pay attention,' she ordered him. 'This is really important.'
He nodded. He turned away defiantly because she had pulled his hair.
Sejer and Skarre drove the boys down to Loch Bonna.
