didn't find any real answers because research has revealed almost nothing. There are individual triggers, but perhaps it's the case that nobody wants to know about this. No one cares about these men and certainly no one wants to talk about them; everything is reduced to universal contempt.'
'Well,' Sejer said, 'it appears you learned something after all, you're a mine of information.'
'Yes,' Skarre replied. 'And I was struck by how much can be accommodated within a framework of normality. I mean, as long as both parties are adults and consent. At the same time the world is full of people who have bizarre sexual fantasies, which they never carry out. And we should probably be grateful for that. And I've been thinking a lot about what ?keson said. That we're dealing with a first-time offender.'
'We might well be,' said Sejer. 'So the question is: will he be so horrified that he'll never reoffend or has he now developed a taste for it?'
After a short pause Skarre had another idea. 'Now what about your grandson?' he asked, 'Matteus. Has he turned sixteen yet?'
'He's seventeen. Why do you ask?'
'He does ballet?'
'Correct. He dances classical ballet, and some people think that he shows promise.'
'Does he have a girlfriend?'
Sejer looked at him across the table. 'There was talk of a girl called Lea once. I don't know much about it and I didn't want to intrude.'
'Has Lea turned sixteen?'
Sejer frowned. 'I don't know. Please don't add to my worries, I've got more than enough as it is. Matteus is a very sensible boy, and he is very conscientious in absolutely everything he does. He needs to be responsible, he needs to be the best. He needs to train harder than anyone so that no one can point the finger at him for anything.'
'He's ambitious?'
Sejer nodded. 'He needs to be, he's from Somalia. He needs to work twice as hard as everybody else, he has to defend his place on a daily basis.'
'I hear what you're saying,' Skarre said, 'but most people grew up with some sort of baggage. My father was a clergyman, he had very high expectations of me and he never got over the fact that I didn't want to study theology. Because of him, I've often felt like a failure. It has affected my entire personality that I was such a major disappointment to him, the knowledge that he went to his grave with his grief. If Matteus hadn't been black, it would have been something else that would haunt him his whole life.'
'I suppose you're right,' Sejer said. 'And the man we're looking for probably has an explanation as well, a reason for why it happened, for what happened to Jonas. But when you think about it, it's actually quite straightforward. We all have to abide by Norwegian law, every single one of us.'
CHAPTER 20
September 8th.
Edwin ?salid was staring out of the window, waiting.
He noticed that the leaves were changing colour. They had gone from green to red and yellow. A light mist drifted across the houses and bathed them in a ghostly veil. Perhaps something evil is about to happen, he fantasised. His mother was busy cooking dinner when she heard a joyous squeal followed by heavy feet plodding across the floor. Edwin waddled into the kitchen, his big body quivering with excitement and anticipation. A sound pierced the silence in the house, the familiar ringing of a sharp, tinkling bell.
'It's the ice-cream van,' he pestered her. 'The ice-cream van's here! Please can I buy a box of choc ices, Mummy? Please, please?' He grabbed hold of one of her wrists and yanked her arm like a puppy pulling at a toy. Tulla ?salid snatched back her hand and folded her arms across her chest. An expression of anxiety flashed across her face. Her son was morbidly obese and his weight was increasing rapidly. He wanted ice-cream now, he was on his knees pleading with her, he shifted from knee to knee, his fists opening and clenching.
'Edwin,' she said weakly, 'we've talked about this.'
'But Mum,' he begged. 'Just one box!'
He gave his mother a beseeching look. Tulla ?salid fought an inner battle. She remembered what the doctors had said, that she had to change his diet or his health would suffer and he weighed almost ninety kilos now. But he was imploring her, and she struggled to stay firm. Again he clasped her wrist, his brown eyes sparkling.
'There are twenty ice-creams in a box,' he pushed on, 'and there's