The Water's Edge - By Karin Fossum Page 0,50

yanked the dogs to one side and showed them to a living room with a view of the loch. The dogs had left their mark on the house and there was little left of the parquet flooring. His furniture was ancient and worn and some filthy brown strips of fabric hung by the windows, some sort of curtain supposedly. There were several photographs on the walls, all depicting dogs: dogs in the snow, dogs in front of a sledge, dogs on a beach.

'Yes,' he said, 'it's just me and the dogs here.'

He commanded the dogs to lie down. Sejer and Skarre found a space on a sofa covered in long, white dog hairs. Naper was a man in his fifties, short and heavy-set with an impressive iron grey beard, which he kept stroking. Whenever he looked at them, it was with brief, sharp glances; most of the time his eyes rested on the dogs.

'Like I told you. It's not much that I can offer you, I didn't see any people or cars the day Edwin ?salid disappeared. But I saw the boys sitting on the jetty. Now the rumours have started. You might not have heard them, people don't like making accusations, they're scared they might be wrong. But I don't have any children at Solberg School so I don't care.'

He scratched one of the dogs energetically. The big animal rolled over on the floor.

'These rumours started before the boys disappeared. But now, of course, they've really caught on.'

Naper took his time. His hands were strong and hairy; they sank deeply into the neck of the dog.

'It's about a man who is gay,' he said, looking at them. 'And I'm not bothered by that, I've no axe to grind, live and let live I say. As long as you don't hurt anyone. Anyway, he lives with someone, has done for years, they live in Nordby where they bought an old house which they've done up. And to put it bluntly, a lot of young boys come to visit him.'

'Why do they do that?' Sejer asked.

Naper found an ashtray and took out a squashed packet of Petter酶e tobacco from his shirt pocket.

'He's a teacher,' he said, 'at Solberg School.'

'Alex Meyer,' Sejer said.

'That's him. You've already heard, I thought you might have,' Naper said.

Sejer protested. 'Someone mentioned he was gay, that's all. Tell me how these rumours have come about.'

Naper rolled a misshapen cigarette, stuck it into the corner of his mouth and lit it.

'He brings the kids back home.'

'To his house?'

Skarre listened, his blue eyes fixed on Naper's face.

'No one's quite sure what goes on,' Naper said, 'or what part his boyfriend plays in all of this. But I do think it's odd that a teacher opens his home in this way. Sometimes the kids are there in the evenings. Don't ask me what they do, but I think that is strange. You'd have thought he would have had enough of them after a whole day at school.'

'Has anyone asked him?' Sejer asked.

'Don't know.'

'Do you happen to know the name of his boyfriend?'

'I do. Now, what was it? Johannes Kj忙r.'

Skarre made a note of the name.

Naper flicked the ash from his cigarette. One of his dogs gave a long yawn and Sejer caught a glimpse of its impressive fangs.

'Rikard Holmen, who runs the Kiwi shop, has two grandchildren in Year Five,' Naper said, 'and they've been to Meyer's house lots of times. But perhaps it's all above board. Perhaps it's just what I said it might be. Gossip.'

Again he bent down and started scratching another dog. Sejer went over to the window and looked down at the loch.

'You can see the jetty,' he remarked.

'Yes,' Naper said. 'I don't mean to boast, but this house, which I bought in '94, has the best view in Huseby.'

'Do you know Edwin ?salid?'

'No. I don't know him, but I know who he is. Everyone does, he's hard to miss. And not that I know much about it, but I can't imagine what his mother thinks she's doing. The odd salad wouldn't have gone amiss.'

Skarre placed his notepad on the coffee table. 'Yes, if only it was that simple,' he said, flashing one of his dazzling smiles, as a result of which Naper missed his irony.

'I've tried to understand this thing about children,' he said. 'I mean, the men. Who want them. I suppose they actually prefer children. And sexual urges are strong, some perhaps can't control them. Like my dogs,' he grinned. 'But surely they've