The Water's Edge - By Karin Fossum Page 0,44

should have returned it to the hospital, but he had never got around to it. It had been in his living room so long it had become part of his modest furniture. Now he got up and went over to it, lowered himself carefully into it. Clasped the wheels and felt the soft rubber against his palms. Something about sitting in the wheelchair made him feel he was in the right place. Of course he was disabled, he could not manage what others managed. He rolled silently and smoothly across the floor. All he needed was a blanket across his knees to make the illusion complete. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the newspapers on the coffee table, the photos and huge headlines.

Following Edwin's disappearance, the police considered him to be highly dangerous.

CHAPTER 25

'I've been reading about various types of paraphilia,' Skarre said. 'Experts have identified more than one hundred preferences. I can't deny that I'm fascinated. By the way,' he added, 'paidos means boy and philia means love.'

'I know,' Sejer said.

'And there's another variant,' Skarre went on. 'Gerontophilia.'

'What's that?'

'Being attracted to old people.'

Sejer frowned.

'And acrotomophilia. A desire for people with missing limbs.'

'Is that possible?'

'It is. And of course there's necrophilia—'

'I know, I know. Let's change the subject. Can paedophilia be treated?'

'To some extent,' Skarre said, 'but the success rate is poor, on the whole. Ideally a person needs to be in therapy before they turn fourteen. And it's hard to make anyone do that. At this point very few will have started abusing.'

'But when does a person know that they're sexually attracted to children?'

'Early on. A conflict erupts between a child and its parents, an emotional conflict, and the child seeks a solution to it. The solution, that is, paraphilia, is one they usually discover between the ages of eight and nine, some as young as six. And over the years it grows stronger. There's very little research on the subject, that's the problem.'

'Go on.'

'In some states in the US,' Skarre continued, 'it is illegal to teach sex education to anyone under the age of sixteen.'

'Why?' Sejer wondered out loud.

'It's regarded as a form of assault. And consequently the system does not pick them up. And their paraphilia, if they have one, is allowed to develop unchecked. And even though we despise and reject what they do, their abuse is an attempt to solve a problem.'

'That part I understand,' Sejer said, 'but in this case I'm not prepared to make excuses for anyone.'

'There's another point,' Skarre said, 'which is worth considering. It's based on culture. We call it abuse, but what defines it as such? Religion? Morality? Experts, the authorities or we as individuals? In other cultures,' he went on, 'things go on which in Norway would meet with universal outrage and severe punishments.'

'Like what?'

'Polynesian mothers masturbate their young children to make them settle at night.'

'Good heavens.'

'Boys in New Guinea have to service older men in order for them to be regarded as real men. I won't go into detail about what they have to do; after all, you're easily embarrassed.'

'Thank you.'

'And then there are Portuguese grandmothers.'

'Are you about to slander Portuguese grandmothers?' Sejer asked, appalled. 'I've been on holiday in Portugal, I've seen them close up, they're the very image of respectability.'

'They rub small boys in church,' Skarre said, 'so they'll sit still during evening mass.'

'I've never heard anything so outrageous.'

'But up here in the cold and freezing north there's really very little the law allows you.'

'We should be grateful for that,' Sejer said. 'We need to enforce it and we cannot have any grey areas.' He gave Skarre a stern look. 'If you put a child on your lap, there must be no ulterior motives.'

CHAPTER 26

Solberg School in Huseby was an old, yellow stone building surrounded by beeches. It was situated on a hilltop above Loch Bonna and those pupils whose classrooms faced north often daydreamed as they watched the blue water. Alex Meyer led Sejer and Skarre to Edwin's classroom. The room stirred mixed feelings in them, it had to do with the way it smelled, an indeterminate mix of food, green soap and children's bodies. Edwin's name had been written on the board in ornate letters and the pupils had drawn flowers and red hearts around it. But there was something else which caught their attention, something which stood out in the carefully organised room. A chair. A chair bigger and broader than the rest. It was obvious that Edwin was unable