Hell Fire

21 July 2005

After fourteen days on the rig, Olav Nøklan was flown back to the mainland by the helicopter service. Kathrine picked him up in the car, and their little daughter Ylva was in the back. He gave them both a good hug; he was happy to see them. But they didn’t say much on the drive home. Olav knew what was waiting. Tomorrow the police would be on their doorstep, and the thought of all the questions they would ask was eating at him.

“What are you going to say to them?” Kathrine asked as she drove.

“Absolutely everything. I’ll be honest and answer their questions as well as I can.”

“Do you think I should be there? I knew Bonnie as well, after all.”

“Don’t know,” he said curtly. “They might want to talk to me alone.”

Ylva sat babbling in her car seat behind them, and he tried to stay calm. He had a horribly bad conscience about all manner of things, and he would definitely be the first to admit that if they asked. He should be ashamed. He should do everything he could to make up for it. He should repent.

“Why did you leave Bonnie?” Sejer asked. “Did you argue a lot?”

“No, we didn’t, actually,” Olav admitted. “We had a good relationship. Especially after Simon was born. It was just that I fell head over heels for Kathrine. You can’t control that sort of thing, can you? I’m only human.”

“Kathrine was seventeen?”

“Yes. It does sound a bit like cradle-snatching, but she was very mature. That was why we used her as a babysitter. And then what happened happened. It was a difficult time, and to be honest, I didn’t know what to do. Kathrine and I had endless discussions, and I told her countless times that she could easily find someone else. And then we’d split up — we tried several times. But it didn’t work. We couldn’t end the relationship; it was almost impossible for me to think straight. So I decided to come clean and tell Bonnie.”

“How did she take it?” Skarre asked.

“Oh, it was unbearable,” he said with a sigh. “And I knew that she would struggle financially. She didn’t earn much as a home health aide.”

“You could have helped her financially, couldn’t you? With the money you must earn on Gullfaks?”

“Yes,” he said. “And I paid my share for Simon. She accepted that of course. But she wouldn’t take a krone more. She was as bitter as can be and I didn’t want to pressure her. But I begged her to tell me if she ever needed anything, because I did want to make up for what I’d done.”

“It’s hard to understand why she said no,” Sejer remarked.

“You didn’t know Bonnie.”

Sejer looked around the living room, which bore witness to both good taste and good money. The house that Bonnie had lived in after the separation was another story: a tiny old house where they had gone from room to room without finding anything that might help the investigation. Sejer had stood in the doorway to one of the bedrooms and looked at the unmade bed. The comforters were still in the trailer.

“How often did you see Simon?”

Olav bowed his head. He looked both guilty and unhappy.

“Hardly ever,” he confessed. “Bonnie always made it difficult. I think she wanted to punish me.”

“You didn’t insist on more contact?”

“No. I guess I’m just a coward, that’s all there is to it. And then Ylva was born. But I always gave him presents for his birthday and Christmas. I thought she might soften over the years, but to be honest, I didn’t really believe she would. She was totally unforgiving.”

“Were you close when you were together?” Skarre asked. “I mean, did you share secrets and dreams? From your childhood, for example, or when you were teenagers?”

“Not really. But perhaps we should have. Though I have to say, my teenage years were pretty wild. And for obvious reasons I wasn’t that keen to talk about it. Bonnie was pretty secretive about most things, not that I really wanted to know about her past — what did it matter?”

“But you had a good relationship?”

“Yes, in every way.”

“And the fact that she never got over the split, does that mean that she clung to you when you were together?”

“Yes.”

Kathrine came into the room with Ylva on her arm, and they asked her a couple of questions that verified what her husband had said.

As they walked to the door to leave, Sejer turned around one last time.

“Did you go to the funeral?”

“No,” he admitted.

Sejer stood for a moment, thinking. “I find it very strange that you didn’t go to your own son’s funeral,” he said. “Can you explain?”

“Yes,” he said, sounding wretched. “I’m totally ashamed of it. But the fact is that I was scared of Henny Hayden. She wasn’t just bitter — she was furious with me for what I’d done to Bonnie and Simon. So I chose to stay away. I was scared she would make a scene; she’s not the type to hold back. And I didn’t want that to happen at Simon’s funeral. So I drove up to Haugane Church last night with red roses.”

They parked beside a red Volvo and then went in to see Britt Marie, who had been Bonnie’s closest friend for many years. Her husband and children were sent down to watch TV in the basement. The dog, Sugar Man, was asleep in front of the fireplace with his head on his paws.

“I’ve helped Bonnie with a lot over the years,” Britt said. “Now there’s nothing more I can do. The only thing would be if I had some information that might in some way help you find him. But I have nothing.”

“Do you know if she had any unfinished business with anyone?” Sejer asked.

“No,” she replied. “It’s hard to imagine — she was kindness itself.”

“Do you know if she had any enemies?”

“I can’t think who they would have been. No, absolutely not.”

“Did she say anything that might indicate that someone was after her?”

“Men,” Britt said with a smile. “I’m assuming you’ve seen photographs of her.”

“But she never mentioned anyone in particular?”

“No, not like that. Not after Olav.”

On the wall there was a picture of Britt and Bonnie standing close together. It was taken in the rain and both of them were wearing red raincoats, the hoods pulled up against the weather.

“Jens took that photo,” she told them. “It’s quite recent.”

“So your husband also knew Bonnie?”

“Yes, but not very well.”

“How close were you? Did she tell you everything?”

“Oh no, definitely not. No one tells someone everything; we’re adults, after all. And adults have secrets. I do too.”

Suddenly she started to cry. Sugar Man padded over to comfort her.

“So what you’re saying is that Bonnie might have had a secret that you knew nothing about?” Skarre suggested.

“Yes, I suppose that’s what I’m saying,” she answered, and dried her tears.

“Something in the past, perhaps?”

“Yes, although I know some things about her childhood. I know that she had anorexia, for example, and it was pretty serious.”

Skarre jotted the information down.

“So she told you that. Did she give any more details?”

“Not really. She was a teenager, though, which is often when it happens.”

“And anorexia is usually triggered by other things, you know that?”

“Yes, I know a little. Low self-esteem, pressures at school, even sexual abuse, and other horrible things like that.”

“Do you have any reason to believe that something like that may have happened in Bonnie’s childhood?”

“I don’t know. It certainly wouldn’t have been Henrik because I know him quite well, and he worshipped her.”

“But could it have been someone else, perhaps?”

“Of course,” Britt said. “There are always nasty uncles.”