Bad Intentions

CHAPTER 23

The party had been held in Skjæret on 19 December. Skjæret was a town on the coast, near Åkerøy, and Irene Selmer was listed as the owner of a small flat with a terrace that overlooked the water.

They were walking to the car. Sejer confessed his brief moment of weakness when he was with Yoo Van Chau.

‘I promised her I would find out,’ he said.

‘What do you mean promised?’ Skarre said.

‘That I would make sure she gets an explanation for it all. It was impossible to turn her down. She wears slippers embroidered with dragons,’ he explained.

‘But we can’t promise her anything,’ Skarre said, aghast. ‘You need to use a stock phrase. We’ll do everything in our power. That one is quite good. It makes an impression, don’t you think?’

‘If you had seen Yoo Van Chau, you would have made promises too,’ Sejer said.

They drove out to Åkerøy.

Half an hour later they saw the fjord sparkle blue between the houses. Small islands dotted with red and white cottages lay beyond. Skarre spoke at length about his childhood. He had grown up in a vicarage on the south coast, and he could feel the pull of it now.

‘I want a flat out here,’ he said. ‘How much do you think they cost?’

‘Far too much for us,’ Sejer replied.

Skarre stared dreamily across the mouth of the fjord.

‘I suppose it gets cold here in the autumn and winter,’ he added. ‘After all, it’s right on the coast. What do you think?’

He looked to the inspector for support.

‘You can’t live out here,’ Sejer said. ‘It’s freezing cold.’

Irene Selmer was wearing a T-shirt which came down to her thighs and read: PRINCESS ON A BINGE. She acted curt. She seemed to think they might be selling something, and she wanted shot of them.

‘Police,’ Sejer said.

She gawped. Then she recalled what had happened. It had upset her.

‘Is it Jon Moreno?’

Sejer did not have time to answer.

‘I heard he killed himself,’ she said. ‘Did he?’

‘We’re here on another matter,’ Sejer said.

She tugged at her T-shirt. She showed no sign of inviting them in. Then another unpleasant thought occurred to her, something she had almost forgotten.

‘We’ve found Kim Van Chau,’ Sejer said.

‘Is he dead?’ she whispered.

‘Yes.’

‘Did he freeze to death? Where was he?’

‘We found him in Glitter Lake,’ Skarre explained.

She shook her head, baffled. ‘Glitter Lake? But he lives in Nattmål, in those terraced houses. Do you know what happened?’

‘No,’ Skarre said, looking at Sejer. ‘But we’ll do everything in our power to find out.’

She turned around and went back inside the flat.

‘I shouldn’t have thrown him out,’ she said. ‘He was so drunk. It’s all my fault.’

‘Why is it your fault?’ Sejer asked.

Without looking at them she began to explain. ‘If I had let him stay the night, he would have got home alive. But I didn’t want him here. I don’t know what I was thinking.’

‘Let’s begin at the beginning,’ Sejer said. ‘We can apportion blame later.’

They all sat down. Irene Selmer lifted the edge of her T-shirt and wiped her eyes, causing her black make-up to smudge.

‘I’ve given a statement,’ she said. ‘I’ve told you what happened several times already.’

‘And now you need to tell me again,’ Sejer said. ‘Tell us about the party.’

‘It was a house-warming party,’ she said. ‘My dad gave me this flat when I turned twenty. It was quite low-key. We sat on the floor because there weren’t enough chairs for everybody. I’d warned all the neighbours, these walls are so thin. But no one complained because everyone who lives out here is young, and they don’t mind. We ordered pizzas from Pizzabussen, they were delivered at ten.’

‘Did people get very drunk?’ Sejer asked.

She tugged at her shoelaces.

‘People wanted to get drunk. Some had brought beer and wine, others vodka. Of course people got drunk, I had expected them to.’

‘How did you know Kim Van Chau?’ Skarre asked.

‘I didn’t know Kim. He wasn’t invited.’

‘So tell us how he ended up at your party.’

‘He was hitch-hiking,’ she said. ‘From Nattmål. He wanted to go into town. Two friends of mine drove past on their way here and spotted him. And they invited him to come along. They just did it for a laugh.’

She jerked her head involuntarily. Perhaps she was ashamed or perhaps she had just had enough.

‘He sat down on the floor,’ she said, ‘and someone handed him a bottle of beer. And then another and another. He couldn’t hold his drink. We made him speak Vietnamese. It sounded so funny. Every time we started laughing, so did he. He did everything we asked him to.’

‘Did he tell you anything about himself?’

She thought about it.

‘He lived with his mum in one of those terraced housed in Nattmål. And he went to Sanderud College. His dad is dead. That was all we knew.’

She looked up at Sejer.

‘He had a bottle in his hand the whole time,’ she said, ‘and I told them they had to stop it because we didn’t even know if he was allowed to drink alcohol. And he still had to get home. Somehow or other.’

‘And that was how the evening went on? You sat on the floor drinking?’

‘As you can see, there’s not enough room to dance here,’ she said.

‘Go on,’ Sejer said. ‘What happened next?’

‘It was late,’ she said, ‘and I had to throw people out because no one wanted to leave. It was so cold outside. It’s impossible to have a conversation with drunk people,’ she sighed.

Sejer looked at her gravely.

‘Was there anything else, apart from alcohol, being passed around that night?’

‘Not that I know of. And if I had suspected anything, then I would have made people stop. I can’t risk it. My dad would kill me.’

‘Do you like Axel Frimann?’ Skarre asked.

She looked confused. ‘He’s always got loads of girls chasing after him.’

‘Strictly speaking that’s not a proper answer to my question,’ Skarre said.

‘Being Axel’s girl gives you status,’ she explained.

‘I understand he’s quite a guy,’ Skarre said.

‘I don’t care about status,’ she said.

‘You started throwing people out,’ Sejer said. ‘How did they get home?’

‘Most of them took a cab. They shared and split the fare. Some walked because they live locally, and a few had caught the last bus.’

‘And Kim Van Chau?’

‘He was the biggest problem. At that point he was really drunk. But it was three o’clock by then, and I didn’t want anyone sleeping on the floor when I woke up in the morning. He didn’t have any money either, so I told Axel and the others that they had to give him a lift back. They could drop him right where my friends had picked him up, right by the letterboxes at the bottom of the hill in Nattmål. From there it’s only a short walk to his front door. I thought about his mum, she was probably waiting up for him. Then we had a row.’

‘And what was the outcome?’ Sejer asked.

‘It ended up that Axel and Reilly dragged him through the door and bundled him into the Mercedes,’ she said. ‘But that was after I had argued with Axel for a long time. He is very stubborn.’

‘Had Axel been drinking?’

‘Don’t think so,’ she mumbled. She started twirling a ring on her finger and Sejer recalled Yoo Van Chau’s words. Watch their hands, see if they flap.

‘What about Reilly and Jon?’

‘Jon was completely out of it,’ Irene said, ‘because he couldn’t hold his drink either. And Reilly was looking pretty wasted, too.’

‘So we have the following scenario,’ Sejer said. ‘It’s three o’clock in the morning. Axel, Jon, Reilly and Kim leave by the front door to drive to Nattmål. Did you see them get into the car?’

‘I can only see the water,’ she said.

‘But as far as you were concerned, Axel was driving Kim to Nattmål?’

‘That was the deal,’ she said. ‘He promised. Jon and Reilly promised.’

‘So that was the last time you saw Kim Van Chau?’ Sejer asked. ‘When Axel and Reilly helped him through the door?’

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘That was the last time I saw him.’