The Water's Edge - By Karin Fossum Page 0,41

boy.'

'What? Who's taken another boy?'

'Well, we don't know yet, but my money's on that man from Linde Forest,' he said. 'The missing boy is from Huseby. There's total panic now.'

'No,' she said, baffled. She shook her head in disbelief. Her hair was wet and drops of water trickled into her eyes.

'Is that what they were saying on the radio?'

'Yes, I've just heard it. But they didn't give away many details, you know, they never do at this stage. But it's a ten-year-old boy and he goes to the same school as Jonas August.'

Kristine stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel. She watched him with wide eyes.

'But where did they find him? Was he dressed?'

'No,' Reinhardt said, 'they haven't found him yet, they're still looking.'

'What do you mean they haven't found him?'

She took a smaller towel and wrapped it around her hair like a turban.

'Then how do we know what's happened to him?' she objected.

'Oh, they'll find him,' Reinhardt said, 'but by then it will be too late. Kristine! We're the only witnesses, the only ones to have seen him up close.'

Kristine got dressed. She was troubled by what Reinhardt had told her, by scenarios she did not want to entertain, by thoughts she did not want to think. They went down to the kitchen to have breakfast. Reinhardt made coffee.

'When I'm out and about I'll keep my eyes open. Just in case he might show up.'

Kristine took her usual place at the table. 'But what if you see someone, you tell the police and it turns out it's not him,' she objected. 'Imagine how awful that would be.'

'I really can't worry about that. If you think about it,' he added, 'not many people in this world can stop him from taking a third boy. But you and I can, we're in a unique position.'

It gives him a buzz, she thought, that it might be so.

She buttered a slice of bread.

'You might be right,' she said, 'but there's not much we can do in our unique position. Unless he shows up somewhere.'

'And he will, sooner or later. The question is: how many kids will he kill before that?'

'What's his name?' Kristine asked. 'The missing boy?'

'Something unusual,' Reinhardt said. 'Edwin. What a hopeless name for a small boy.'

She shrugged. 'He's probably named after someone. His grandfather, perhaps.'

'It doesn't suit him,' Reinhardt stated. 'Edwin is an adult's name. The name of someone who's fifty or sixty.'

'But he's going to grow up,' Kristine said. 'He's only a boy for the first ten years.'

She stopped talking. All he would get now was those ten years. She looked at Reinhardt. He seemed unperturbed. She had no idea what that signified.

'There's something about you men,' she said.

'Is there now?' He looked down at her. 'Why don't you tell me what that is?'

'You're so simple.'

'Are we really?'

'If someone gives you a ball, you'll chase it for hours.'

'Ha ha,' Reinhardt laughed, he was finding all this highly amusing.

'You never stop playing. Whereas we girls, we grow up when we turn twelve, because we know we'll become mothers one day. One child can't take care of another, we have to be responsible.'

Reinhardt's smile stiffened and became acidic.

'Besides, our brains are very different,' she continued. 'I saw something about it on TV once. They had created this image, which highlighted the differences. Active areas of the brain were coloured red.'

'Good heavens,' Reinhardt chuckled.

'And inactive areas were coloured yellow.'

She swallowed another sip of her coffee. 'And do you know something?'

Her eyes met his across the table.

'The male brain showed just a small red spot,' she said. 'The active parts were limited to a small area. Whereas the female brain was almost entirely red. Because we're capable of thinking about many different things simultaneously,' she said triumphantly.

'While we focus on one thing,' Reinhardt said. 'And that's why we achieve more than you do. Whereas you busy yourselves with trifles and that's why everything you do is mediocre and halfhearted.'

The discussion was starting to make her dizzy.

'You're always the ones to stop when there's been a road accident,' she said, 'or a fire. Or any other disaster, for that matter.'

'So what?' he replied. 'We like the adrenalin, Kristine: that doesn't make us inferior human beings.'

'That's not what I said,' she defended herself.

'I know you,' he said, 'and I know what you're thinking. But I don't mind admitting it. I'm interested in the missing boy from Huseby.'

She risked touching a sore point. 'Only a man who has no children of his own would