Fear Not

didn’t want to talk to anyone but Kjetil. Not yet.

‘I realize this has all been very difficult for you, Synnove, and I-’

‘Kjetil,’ she broke in. ‘I mean it. If you had any idea how I’ve been feeling since Marianne disappeared, you’d realize it’s much easier to…’

She stopped and closed her eyes.

‘If we could just get this over and done with.’

‘Have you had those cuts on your face looked at?’ he asked.

‘They’re just superficial.’

Kjetil Berggren looked as if he were about to protest. Instead, he nodded at the objects between them on the desk.

‘Can I touch them?’ she asked.

‘I’m afraid not.’

The white gold wedding ring was slightly bigger than her own. The inlaid diamond was dull, and might have gone unnoticed had she not known it was there. It was Marianne who had wanted diamonds. Synnove had preferred a perfectly ordinary ring made of ordinary gold, without embellishments – a traditional wedding ring. She wanted to be married to Marianne in the same way everybody else is married, so the ring should be plain and gold.

‘We didn’t have time to get married,’ she said.

‘I thought you were-’

‘We were registered partners – as if we were running a business together or something. But with the new law and everything, we were planning to get married properly in the summer.’

The tears made the cuts on her face smart.

‘Anyway, the ring looks like hers.’

She held up her right hand limply to show its twin. Then she took a deep breath and went on much too quickly: ‘The necklace too. The keys are definitely hers. I’ve never seen that USB stick before, but we must have about thirty lying around the house. Can you take them away now? Can you take them away?! ’ She hid her face in her hands. ‘I assume,’ she said, her voice muffled, ‘that I have to identify these things because you don’t want me to see Marianne.’

Kjetil Berggren didn’t reply. Quickly, without touching the four objects, he slipped each one into a plastic bag and carefully folded the cloth around them.

‘Of course, we’ll have a DNA analysis done as well,’ he said. ‘But unfortunately there seems to be little doubt that the deceased is Marianne.’

‘They said she’d paid,’ said Synnove, placing her hands on her knee at last. ‘At the hotel, they said Marianne had paid for the room!’

‘Yes, the bill had been paid. But not by her.’

‘By whom, then? If someone else paid it must be the murderer, and in that case it should be easy to… Haven’t they got CCTV? Guest lists? It must be the simplest thing in the world to…’

She fell silent when she saw the expression on Kjetil’s face.

‘The Continental has video surveillance in certain parts of the building,’ he said slowly. ‘In reception, among other places. Unfortunately, the tapes are erased after seven days. Next week they’re switching to digital recordings, and then everything will be saved for much longer. Up to now they’ve been using old-fashioned equipment. Videotapes. It’s not possible to keep them for ever.’

‘Videotapes,’ she whispered in disbelief. ‘In a luxury hotel?’

He nodded and went on: ‘The bill was paid on the evening of the nineteenth. We can tell that from the till. The receptionist insists it was a man who paid for the room. In cash. He can’t really give us anything in the way of a more detailed description. There were a hell of a lot of people there that evening, bang in the middle of the Christmas party season. The Theatre Cafe was packed, and you can go straight from there into the foyer, where there’s another bar. You pass reception on the way.’

‘Does that mean…?’

Synnove didn’t know herself what that was supposed to mean.

‘There was also a wedding reception that evening,’ Kjetil went on. ‘Lots of activity and noise. And apparently there was some kind of dramatic incident involving a child who went outside and almost got run over by a bus. No, hang on, a tram. Anyway, there was a huge commotion, and for the life of him the receptionist can’t remember much about the actual payment.’

‘But who… who in the world would do all this? I just can’t understand… To murder her, hide her, pay the bill… It’s so absurd that… Who on earth would think of doing such a thing?!’

‘That’s what we’re trying to work out,’ Kjetil said calmly. ‘The key question is why Marianne was murdered. If you have any information whatsoever that might help us to-’

‘Of course I haven’t,’ she snapped. ‘Of course I haven’t a clue why anyone would want to kill Marianne! Apart from her bloody parents!’

He didn’t bother to comment on that.

Synnove tugged at her sweater. She picked up the glass of water and put it down again without having a drink. Fiddled with her wedding ring. Ran her fingers through her hair.

Tried to make the time pass.

That was what she must focus on in the days to come. Making the time pass. Time heals all wounds, but whenever she glanced at the clock only half a minute had passed since the last time.

And no wounds had healed.

‘Can I go?’ she mumbled.

‘Of course. I’ll drive you. We’re going to have to trouble you with more questions before too long, but-’

‘Who?’

‘Sorry?’

‘Who’s going to trouble me with more questions?’

‘Since the body was found in Oslo, and all the indications are that the crime took place there, this is a case for the Oslo police. Naturally, we’ll be assisting them as necessary, but-’

‘I’d like to go now.’

She stood up. Kjetil Berggren noticed that her sweater was too big, and her shoulders were drooping. She must have lost five or six kilos in just a couple of weeks. Six kilos she couldn’t afford to lose.

‘You must eat,’ he said. ‘Are you eating?’

Without replying she picked up her quilted jacket from the back of the chair.

‘You don’t need to drive me,’ she said. ‘I’ll walk.’

‘But it’ll only take me three minutes to-’

‘I’ll walk,’ she broke in.

In the doorway she turned back and looked at him.

‘You didn’t believe me,’ she said. ‘You didn’t believe me when I said something terrible had happened to Marianne.’

He examined his nails without saying a word.

‘I hope that haunts you,’ she said.

He nodded, still without looking up.

It doesn’t haunt me at all, he thought. It doesn’t haunt me because Marianne was long dead by the time you came to us.

But he didn’t say anything.

***

She couldn’t complain about the efficiency. The police sketch artist had produced not only a full-face picture but also a profile, a full-length picture from the front, and a detailed drawing of some kind of emblem or pin which Martin Setre claimed the man had been wearing on his lapel. Silje Sorensen leafed quickly through the drawings before laying all four out on the desk in front of her.

She was sceptical about sketches like these, even though she was the one who had requested them.