The Water's Edge - By Karin Fossum Page 0,45

to sit at a normal desk.

Alex Meyer was a long-limbed man in his forties with a mass of brown hair which had been left to grow as it pleased. Around his wrist he wore plaited leather bracelets and his trainers were bright blue with golden stripes.

'How are you getting on?' he asked. 'Do you think you'll be able to catch him? What do we tell the kids? Do you have any theories as to what's going on?'

Then he stopped himself, gave them a desperate look and gestured helplessly. He was slim and a touch feline, and when he spoke his whole body moved.

'As far as the children are concerned,' Sejer said, 'then you'll have to tell them that they'll find out the answer one day.'

Meyer went over to the window and looked down at the loch.

'Two boys from Solberg School,' he said. 'It's unbelievable. Do you know what the children are saying? That he's at the bottom of Lake Linde. That a dangerous man is loose in the forest up there. And I don't know what to say, because it might be true.'

Again Sejer had the feeling of standing empty-handed in front of a beggar.

'So what's the story?' Skarre asked. 'How's Edwin doing in school?'

Meyer managed a smile. 'In some ways I'm impressed that Edwin comes to school at all,' he said, 'because he's not doing very well. He's not very bright, and he struggles in all subjects. But when it comes to bullying, there's a lot of talk these days about children and how cruel they are to each other and I suppose that's true. But it has a point of origin. If they're used to being ill-treated at home, then they go out into the world with the same lack of respect for the feelings of others.'

'Do you have pupils here who are being ill-treated at home? Is that what you're saying?' Sejer asked.

'I've got my suspicions. Let me put it this way: I pay attention to what's going on.'

'Are you talking about verbal abuse or do you mean other, more serious types of abuse?'

'Possibly.'

'What about Edwin? Is he treated well at home?'

'I've no reason to think anything else,' Meyer said, 'unless you consider it to be a form of child abuse to allow a child to become morbidly obese.'

'That's a brutal claim to make,' Sejer said.

'It is.'

'To what extent can his difficulties at school be attributed to his obesity?'

'To a large extent, I would say. Many of his thoughts revolve around food. He finds it very hard to concentrate on anything else. Food comes first. It comes before playing, school and friends. Food is the first thing he thinks of when he wakes up and the last thing he thinks of before he goes to bed at night. He loves food more than anything else. But I help him as much as I'm able to, he's a very nice lad, gentle. It's bizarre,' he added, 'because in one way it scares me to see how quickly he gains weight, in another way it fascinates me. When he eats I can barely make contact with him. He grows distant and unapproachable, as if he were high.'

He went up to the board, took a piece of chalk and drew a small star above Edwin's name.

'So his weight,' Sejer said, 'is a major handicap?'

'It's worse than that,' Meyer said, 'it's life-threatening. Or it will be soon. Sometimes I think that he might have suffered a heart attack, that he's simply keeled over and you'll find him in a ditch.'

'What about his GP,' Sejer said, 'have you spoken to him?'

'Of course,' Meyer replied. 'I needed to know how to handle it. Edwin has always been allowed to do things at his own pace, I've never pressurised him. Naturally, he has been excused from PE. He sits on the floor watching the others while he eats one of his many packed lunches.'

Sejer studied the wall, which was covered by children's drawings.

'He's drawn a picture of his mum in a red dress,' Meyer explained, pointing. 'It'll be horribly empty if he doesn't come back. The pupils are distraught, they've lost everything they thought of as safe. Jonas August is dead and Edwin's desk is empty. The kids are barely allowed out of the house now, it's that serious. We've been asked to look out for the white car, but when the bell goes, it's total mayhem because everyone collects their children by car now. Before we start lessons every morning we talk about