happily at his hand. He put his hand in the pocket of his khaki trousers and took out a long-forgotten dog biscuit. Kollberg didn't know why he was getting a reward, but he gobbled it up and wagged his tail enthusiastically.
"The worst thing is that I'll never know why," he murmured. "What really happened between them? What did Halldis say or do to frighten him? Both of them are dead now, and we'll never know. But we don't know anything about most things in the world. How strange that we accept that fact. As if we were waiting, all our lives, for something further in the future, something totally different that will be comprehensible. But you, you dunce," he looked down at the dog, "you're just waiting for your next meal."
He turned and walked home.
He turned his back on the cemetery. He felt an ache deep inside.
*
Skarre looked cheerful. Showered and tanned.
"What's going on?" Sejer stared at him.
"Nothing. Just feeling good, that's all."
"I see," he said. "Have you heard from the laboratory? Did they get a match on the fingerprints?"
"Errki's prints were everywhere inside the house. He even touched the mirror. The prints on the hoe are more problematic, but they're working on them."
"Did you write up the interrogation last night?"
"Here you go, boss." He handed Sejer some documents in a plastic folder and bit his lip. "What's going to happen to the boy?"
"Not much. Morgan confirmed that it was an accident. Most likely he'll get to stay at Guttebakken, and by all accounts that seems the best solution. God knows, he's been through enough lately. What he needs is some peace, not to be moved again. I'm going out to see him now. He's probably not in very good shape, but I have this tiny hope that he might have found out something about Errki that Morgan missed. Maybe he can offer some explanation."
Skarre gave him a long look. "Is that likely? He's just a boy who's terrified out of his wits."
"Children are observant," Sejer said stubbornly.
"Not really. They just notice different things from grown-ups."
"And that could be useful to us."
Skarre frowned. "You've got something going, haven't you?"
"What do you mean?"
"It seems as though you can't accept what happened. And that's not like you."
"I'm curious that's all," Sejer said.
"You look tired."
"I was itching all over last night!" And with that startling piece of information, Sejer disappeared into his office.
"Your name is Morten Garpe?"
"That's right."
"But you call yourself Morgan?"
"My friends, if I had any, would call me Morgan."
"You don't have any friends? So why do you call yourself Morgan?"
"It sounds a lot cooler, don't you think?"
Skarre's notes failed to mention that at this point they both laughed.
"So, Morten, you're all alone in the world, is that it?"
"I'm short on buddies. I have only one, and he's in prison. Plus a sister in Oslo."
"He's in prison?"
"For armed robbery. I drove the getaway car. He didn't tell the police about me. The money was for him."
"So he's had his hooks into you for a long time, is that right?"
"Yes."
"And you wanted to put an end to it?"
"I suppose I'm going to get such a long sentence that it doesn't matter any more."
"You're right. It doesn't. We'll talk about the robbery later. Tell me about Errki."
Skarre indicated that Morgan paused for a long time before he spoke.
"He told me everything about his mother and what happened to her. Errki and I are both Scorpios. He was born a week after me. The best and the worst people are Scorpios, did you know that?"
"No. What do you mean by telling you everything?"
Sejer lifted his eyes from the report and thought about the experts who for years, and with great cunning, had tried to coax the truth out of Errki. This man seemed to have succeeded in a matter of hours.
"Did he seem to remember anything about the murder of Halldis Horn?"
"Not much. He said that she screamed and threatened him. He had a faraway look in his eyes when he thought about it."
"Did he tell you that he killed her? Did he say that in so many words?"
"No. He looked at me with those strange eyes of his and said, 'Things just happen.'"
"Did he seem like a violent person?"
"You saw my nose. It's going to look really pretty when it grows back. Not that it makes any difference. Frankly I don't care. The only thing that makes me happy is the thought of Tommy's ugly mug when I bang on the wall from my