The Water's Edge - By Karin Fossum Page 0,11

it's him,' Sejer said.

She continued shaking her head. She looked like a sullen child who has been thwarted.

'We'll take him to the Institute of Forensic Medicine in Oslo tomorrow morning,' Sejer said. 'You'll need to come with us and together we will see him.'

'Tomorrow?' she said blankly. Her hands scrambled across the coffee table. 'But where is he now? Where will he be tonight?' She lifted one hand and bit into her knuckles while she waited for a response. She stared at Skarre now, her eyes demanding a reply.

'We haven't been able to move him yet,' Skarre said.

'You haven't been able to move him? I don't understand.'

'We need to examine the crime scene and the surrounding area,' Skarre said. 'It takes time, we won't be able to finish this evening. So we'll be working through the night.'

She punched the air wildly with her fists.

'You can't come here telling me he has to stay in the forest all night,' she screamed. 'For God's sake, he's only seven years old!'

'I'm afraid he has to,' Skarre said. 'The crime scene officers haven't finished.'

'No,' she protested, 'you have to take him to a hospital, so he'll have a bed! There are animals up there and it'll be cold at night and I just won't allow it.' She leapt up from the sofa and howled. 'I won't allow it!'

Sejer stood up, but she refused to be calmed down.

'We have a lot of work ahead of us, Elfrid,' he said. 'It's vital for us to find the man who did this as quickly as possible. I give you my word that he won't be lying there on his own. Our people will be guarding him the whole time.'

'We've put up a tent,' Skarre explained, 'there's light and heating.'

She hid her mouth with one hand.

'Why didn't I go to meet him?' she whispered. 'I can't bear it. I should have walked down to meet him and none of this would have happened. He's only seven years old, I should have known that something might happen, I should have known!'

Her words turned into terrified sobs.

'What about his father?' Sejer asked. 'Jonas August's father. Does he live here with you?'

She shook her head.

'We don't talk to him.'

'It would be best if you would call him,' Sejer said, 'so he can come with us tomorrow morning to the Institute of Forensic Medicine. At least you'll have each other.'

'We were never a couple,' she said. Again she picked at the ribbon on her dress. She had short blonde hair, she looked like a teenage boy in girls' clothing.

'I have no idea where he is, he doesn't know about Jonas. He left me before I had time to tell him I was pregnant. Jonas is a secret.'

'So there's no one we can contact?' Sejer asked.

'Why do you think it's Jonas?' she asked.

'His clothes,' Skarre explained.

'But all boys wear T-shirts and shorts, they all wear the same things and it's been a warm day. Are you telling me that the boy up at Linde Forest is wearing a T-shirt and red shorts?'

Skarre thought about the shorts, which they still had not found. He fought a silent battle trying to decide how much information to give her.

'We think it's Jonas,' he said.

She grew angry and her cheeks became flushed. 'Was he wearing red shorts?'

Skarre looked straight into her eyes. It cost him a great deal.

'We haven't found his shorts,' he conceded.

'You haven't found his shorts? But surely he was wearing them?'

A hint of suspicion emerged in her face. Skarre struggled to find the right words, the ones he would have to say out loud.

'The boy we found wasn't wearing any shorts,' he admitted.

Elfrid Løwe paled. The men watched as her imagination ran riot.

'We really don't want to speculate as to what might have happened,' Sejer said calmly. 'It remains to be seen. But we need to be honest with you. We have good reasons to fear that the dead boy is Jonas. I want you to prepare yourself for that. But when it comes to what happened to him, we shouldn't guess.'

'Perhaps you've made a mistake,' she said, biting her knuckle once more. 'And this might just be a routine visit. It could be, couldn't it?' Her eyes pleaded with them; they were dark blue like Jonas August's.

'Yes,' Sejer said reluctantly.

'And this boy,' she asked again, 'the boy you've found. How did he die?'

'We don't know yet.'

'But when will you know? How long will I have to wait?'

'Until the autopsy report is ready.'

'You intend