The Water's Edge - By Karin Fossum Page 0,25

I mean before I did anything else.'

'You've had therapy, haven't you, ?keson?' Skarre asked.

'Indeed I have. I saw a psychosexual counsellor for quite a while.'

'Did it help you?'

'Of course it did. I finally got a chance to talk about how I feel, to explain myself. Not many people are prepared to listen to us, or treat us with respect. You two are a rare exception, believe you me.'

'Can I ask you a very personal question?' Skarre asked.

?keson leaned forward. 'Of course you can, young man, fire away. I'm no weakling, I just look like one.'

'Have you ever had a relationship with an adult woman?'

?keson smiled coquettishly. 'Well,' he said, pausing theatrically as was his style, 'that depends how you define adult. Yes, of course I have. But I must add that she was a terribly delicate little thing. It didn't last very long, I think it was mainly a desperate attempt to be normal; there's nothing we would rather be, we would prefer to be like you. But, dear Lord, I'm a grown man, I turned fifty last year and I know who I am, it can't be denied and I don't want to either. And that poor little boy up in Linde Forest, words cannot express how I feel. I lay awake half the night, I just couldn't take it in. He was strangled, I suppose? I mean, I'm thinking about his mother and everything she has to go through. Just so you know, none of us feels good about this.'

'We believe you,' Sejer said. 'And we won't take up any more of your time.'

'But don't you want to know where I was on the fourth?' ?keson asked innocently; he was trying to make the two men stay for as long as possible.

'Certainly,' Sejer said benevolently. 'Where were you on the fourth, in the afternoon?'

'I went to an antiques fair in the town hall,' ?keson said eagerly. 'It's an annual event, first weekend of September. I normally go, you can find all sorts of hidden treasures and I'm usually lucky.'

'Are you?' Sejer said patiently.

'I bought teacups,' he said happily. 'I bought four and they are truly amazing. French Garden from Villeroy and Boch. They cost me eight hundred kroner. Let me add that if I had bought them in Glassmagasinet, they would have cost me fourteen hundred. And I haven't even had an opportunity to show them to you; that was the reason I wanted to make you tea. I've got the receipt somewhere, and the lady who sold them to me would remember me, I just know she would. I don't blend in. I know I'll get noticed, but I can't be bothered to be ashamed of it.' He brushed a few strands of hair aside. All the time smiling his gleaming smile and displaying his alert nature.

Then he escorted them out. He patted Skarre on the shoulder and detained them with small talk for as long as he could.

'Goodness gracious, how stimulating it is to have company,' he said.

'If you hear any rumours,' Sejer said, 'you'll call us, won't you?'

'That goes without saying; I'll run to the telephone. But there won't be any rumours. Your man won't surface for a long time.'

CHAPTER 16

He had been sleeping with the red shorts pressed against his face. Now he realised that their smell, this tantalising, acidic smell, a mixture of seawater and sweet apples, was slowly starting to fade. He pressed them hard against his nose, his eyelids closing once again. For a long time he lay like this feeling grief and loss, a weight that dragged him deep into the mattress. The sun crept in through a gap between the curtains, it warmed his skin. His eyes were beginning to sting. He thought about the boy he had carried through the forest. There was not an ounce of fat on his slender body, only flesh and bones, only blue veins and tiny, marbled nails. He fantasised about how appetising the little boy had been, his fingers, his earlobes, his toes. He forced his thoughts away, they terrified him, they were delicious, forbidden and secret.

He got up and went into the kitchen and peered inside the fridge. There was hardly any food, he had not been shopping for ages. All he found was some ham with its edges curled up and a tub of rancid butter. The bread had gone stale and was covered by a layer of blue-green mould. But he had a litre of fresh milk and a