The Drowned Boy

10

Sejer liked to have someone else breathing in the room, even if it was only a dog. Every now and then, Frank’s paws quivered as he ran across the fields of his dreams chasing his prey, a cat or a rabbit perhaps. Still alone, Sejer thought, and stretched his long, sinewy body. That’s what my life has become. It’s not what I had planned, but it’s what I got. He flipped the comforter to one side and put a foot down on the floor. He had often thought about getting a single bed, because that would have made more space in the already Spartan room. But thoughts had never led to action, because sometimes in his imagination Elise was still lying there sleeping beside him, silently in the empty space. This gave him gentle, if temporary, solace. But Elise had been entrusted to the earth and darkness, and that made him melancholy. He went over to the window and pulled the curtain to one side. He looked out at the sleeping town that would shortly wake up, a glittering bowl of light between the deep blue hills. Soon it would stir to life again, flare into action. The river was a leaden ribbon, stubbornly pushing its steady way to the sea. He gave Frank an affectionate pat on the head and went into the bathroom. He stared at himself in the mirror and met his own searching eyes. They were as gray as slate, Elise had once said when they were young. No, he wasn’t at all dizzy, not today. His head was crystal clear and his thoughts were free and light. It was, as he had long hoped, finally over. It had to be over now. What a fuss it had all been. Frank made his way into the kitchen and over to his water dish and sleepily slurped up some water left from the day before.

“What do you reckon, Frank?” he asked the dog. “Do we have a murder on our hands? Something’s not right; I’d put my money on it. I bet you two pork chops. Even though you’re fat enough as it is.”

Frank padded back to the bathroom and stopped on the threshold, studying his master standing there with a razor in his hand. On the walls, blue and white tiles with dolphins jumped. “Laughable” was his comment on the dolphins, but once upon a time they had been perfect, because there was something joyous about them, something inspiring.

“Do you think they managed to sleep last night?” he asked the dog. “My guess is that she did and he didn’t. I hope Snorrason finds something definite. It’s possible, after all. Nothing gets by that man. Maybe his little body is full of toxins, who knows? We’ll get to the bottom of this, is that a deal? You’ve got a good nose and I’ve got my suspicions.” The dog grunted a reply and collapsed on the floor. Sejer finished his morning ablutions and got dressed, knotting his dark blue silk tie carefully. Many years ago, Elise had embroidered a small cherry with a green stalk on it. It was the sort of thing she had always liked to do.

I’m sure they’ll be up by now, he thought. Wandering around in despair. Looking to the heavens, praying fervently to God, and cursing fate. But no matter where they look, they won’t find an answer or any soothing words. Carmen Zita is desperate, Nicolai silent and morose. That was how he imagined they would be. They were so different. We humans are put to so many tests, it doesn’t bear thinking about, he mused. Losing a child after only sixteen months. Having to haul the dead child out of the water, panic and fear tearing at your body. He put Frank on his leash and went out to greet the new day, crossing the parking lot to the small path through the woods. Other people and animals had been there before them and Frank sniffed around and searched for a trophy as always. As he walked, he enjoyed the strengthening light and lush vegetation. Bracken, thistles, and cow parsley, willow weed and mugwort, which sometimes made his eyes and nose run. Once the dog had done what he needed to, Sejer turned and walked back to the apartment building where he lived on the top floor. He picked up the paper that was lying on the mat and looked for the modest report, which he found at the back of the news section. Sixteen-month-old boy found drowned in Damtjern. Mouth-to-mouth was given immediately but any attempt to resuscitate failed, and the boy was declared dead after about an hour.

He brushed his teeth, put on his leather jacket, and picked up his briefcase from the desk. So far there were only a couple of documents concerning Tommy’s death. He asked Frank if he wanted to go to work. The dog ran to the door and sat there whining.

“We’re going out to Granfoss,” Sejer said, “and you’re coming with us.”

Skarre swallowed a jelly bean. The sugar surged through his veins, making him more alert.

“You’ve got no shame,” he said with a smile.

“I’m not going to harass them,” Sejer said. “Just a follow-up call to show that we care. To hear how they coped with the first terrible night. There are some upsetting aspects to the job, I agree. But if little Tommy was thrown in the pond on purpose, then someone is going to pay.”

“Absolutely,” Skarre agreed. “If I know you, you won’t let it go. Why are you so certain something is wrong?”

“Well,” Sejer began, “strictly speaking it was you who started it all, and I’m just following up on what you told me when we were standing down there by the pond. But Carmen Zita is obviously nervous. And she is not overwhelmed by grief. Her tears feel more like anxiety about what might lie in store.”

“I refused to let them do an autopsy,” Sejer said, once they were in the car. “I mean, when Elise died. Couldn’t bear the thought of it. I didn’t want those images in my head. It’s so brutal, opening up the body and emptying out all the organs.”

“You refused?” Skarre repeated in surprise. “Can you do that?”

“Yes,” Sejer said. “In many cases you can. The body belongs to the family. But not in the event of a suspicious death. Then it’s we who decide. But you know how it happened. It wasn’t exactly a secret that she died of liver cancer.”

His openness astonished Skarre. Sejer was not usually generous when it came to talking about personal things, particularly when it came to his late wife, Elise, or anything to do with her tragic death. Even though it was a long time ago now. Skarre knew to value this intimacy and thought that it meant something — trust, for instance. They had known each other for many years, after all. They could confide in each other. The older and the younger, a kind of warm, sociable partnership that had borne fruit in the form of numerous solved cases. The two men were famous in the district for their style and integrity.

“It’s early,” he said. “They might not be up yet.”

“They probably haven’t slept,” Sejer replied. “It wouldn’t surprise me if they were sitting there waiting. The fate of a liar, you know, expecting to be caught at any moment.”

Carmen Zita was wearing tiny denim shorts and a top with Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs on the front, thus confirming Sejer’s impression that she was still a child. When she saw both of them on the steps outside, she backed up a bit and put a hand to her head.

“Why are you here?” she asked. “Is there any news about Tommy? Already, after only one night?”

Sejer held out his hand and she took it, but her handshake was reluctant and without force.

“Are you going to ask us in?” Sejer suggested calmly. Carmen reversed into the hall.

“Yes, of course. Come on in. Dad will be here soon,” she added, as if she wanted to say that her time was limited and they were not particularly welcome. It was rather inconvenient in fact, and she really wanted them to leave. They could feel her reluctance, and she kept her distance.

“He’s going to help us with the funeral,” she explained. “We don’t have much money. We’ve got practically nothing,” she sighed, and shrugged with her palms up. “Dad’s trying to find someone to cover for us at Zita Quick. We can’t exactly work now, either of us, can we? After what’s happened. Follow me; let’s go into the kitchen. Let’s get this over and done with. It’s starting to bother me.”

She walked in front of them through the house. She sat down at the kitchen table and pointed to the empty chairs beside Nicolai with a resigned expression. Then she put her hand to her eyes to wipe away a tear, as they had started to fall again.

“Where is he now?” she asked. “Have they finished the autopsy? Is he lying in a drawer in the morgue?”

Sejer nodded. “Yes, yes, he is. And it will no doubt take some time before everything is sorted.”

“But we want to have the funeral as soon as possible,” Nicolai said, clearly anxious. “How long do you think we’ll have to wait?”

“That depends on the autopsy,” Skarre explained. “And on if they find anything. We promise to keep you informed.”

“But can we start planning?” Carmen asked. “There’s so much that has to be decided. Music and flowers and all sorts of things. He’s going to be buried at Møller Church. Can we choose a plot? There are some lovely birch trees on the slope up there. And we’ve got a plot there from before. Or will we be allocated something randomly?”

“I guess that you will be allocated a plot,” Skarre said. “But it will be beautiful, I’m sure of that. Tommy will be given the best place.”

“My sister Louisa is buried under the birch trees,” Carmen told them. “It would be nice if they could be near each other; they’re related, after all. Aunty Louisa,” she said with a smile. “I’m definitely going to ask the priest if we can have our wish. I mean, they have to listen to us, don’t they?”

“Do that,” Sejer said. “I’m glad to hear that you’re getting help with the funeral, because they are expensive. You’ll get some financial help, but I’m not sure how much, as it’s based on need. But every little bit helps. You must take good care of each other through all this,” he said in a kind voice. “Otherwise it will be an incredibly lonely time, believe me.”

“What do you know about grief?” Nicolai said angrily.

“Everything,” was Sejer’s curt reply. “Both personal and professional, and what’s more, it is part of my job to look after people. No two people grieve alike; you must remember that. Now, there’s something else I’d like to ask,” he said, changing the subject. “If you don’t find it too painful to answer. Did Tommy have a favorite between the two of you? I mean, was he closer to one of you?”

“Tommy was a daddy’s boy,” Nicolai said firmly. “And I was proud of that.”

“Yes, it’s always like that, isn’t it?” Carmen said. “Daddy’s so great. Because he’s not there most of the time. So there’s even more excitement when he does finally come home again in the evening. And he’s still got the energy to play, whereas I’ve been holding down the fort all day. And you know what, in the end you run out of ideas. Tommy was also very stubborn. It wasn’t always easy to keep him happy. But then I’m a daddy’s girl,” she said, “so I guess I’ll just have to accept the fact that Nicolai was more fun.”

“Can I ask one more thing?” Sejer pushed. “Would we be welcome at Tommy’s funeral?”

“Yes, of course,” Carmen said. “Of course, you’re welcome to come to the church. But please come in a normal car. And neither of you can be in uniform,” she added, nodding at Skarre. “I don’t want that. People will talk. You know how it is; we live in a small place.”

Sejer promised to do as they wished.

“Please let us know if you would like to talk to a psychologist,” he offered in a kindly manner.

Nicolai shook his head. “There’s not a lot to say. We’ve lost our child and we’re sad. What can they do to help? It’s just rubbish. And don’t give me all that talk about group therapy,” he said. “Sitting in a circle and sharing your innermost thoughts and feelings, no way. As I see it, grief is a private thing. And even if there are others in the same situation, Tommy was special. In every way. And we’re the only ones who’ve lost a boy like that.”

“Of course,” Sejer placated him. “But you are also allowed to change your minds, so just let me know. And promise me not to underestimate other people. There’s a lot to be said for experience, even if you don’t appreciate that now. A lot of people have been there before, and sometimes it’s good to lean on others. There, I’ve said my bit. And we’ll let you know as soon as the body is released.”

Carmen followed them out. She stood in the doorway, hesitating.

“Does the fact that you’ve come here mean something?” she asked. “Be honest.”

Sejer put his hand on her arm. “It simply means that we care,” he said, “and are doing all that we can in Tommy’s best interest.”