The Water's Edge - By Karin Fossum Page 0,56

if he tried it on, she was scared that she might scream, yet at the same time she thought about the child she so desperately wanted.

I won't give up until I've got what I want, she decided. And there's only one way. She lay there waiting with her eyes open.

CHAPTER 35

One day Sejer and Skarre drove to Linde Forest.

The road up there was narrow and steep with hairpin bends, the unstable verges offering little protection from the sheer drop down to a brook at the bottom of the ravine. The Highway Department had created a passing place halfway up, but they met no one on the five-kilometre drive. At the top was a small car park with room for three to four cars. Sejer pulled in and stopped at the red-painted barrier.

'This is where they saw the man in the blue anorak,' he said. 'Reinhardt and Kristine Ris. Right here by the barrier. There's no doubt that they got a good look at him. It was sunny on the fourth of September and visibility was fine.'

'But how does that help us,' Skarre asked, 'when Ris orders our officers to go and look for a man who turns out to be in a wheelchair?'

'I don't understand it,' Sejer said. 'Something must have happened. A mix-up. We need to look into it.'

The men began to walk. They left the path and wandered between the spruces until they got to the spot where Jonas August had been found. The memory of the half-naked boy was still vivid in their minds.

'He'll refuse to explain himself,' Skarre said. 'His defence counsel will advise him not to say anything.'

Sejer smiled briefly.

'He feels he's the victim. Poor me, I have such strong urges, I just can't control them.' Skarre's voice was dripping with irony.

'He's only trying to solve a problem,' Sejer said. 'We agreed that, didn't we?'

'He drove along the road,' Skarre said. 'He abducted a child, it's inexcusable.'

For a while they looked around. The hush from the tall trees put them in a reflective mood. Skarre walked towards the pile of logs where Kristine Ris had sat on the 4th of September. He sat down and lit a Prince cigarette.

'But all the same,' he stated firmly, 'he's not feeling good. He probably doesn't have a moment's peace. He is frightened to death at the thought of the hatred, the shame and the newspaper headlines. It might even kill him.' He inhaled deeply. 'People do die from things like that.'

Sejer sat down next to him. 'We expect to love and be loved,' he said, 'but paedophiles are supposed to control themselves. Saying that, love is never straightforward for any of us. Everybody seems to be breaking up these days.' He stopped talking at this point, he was entering unfamiliar territory. 'What about you, by the way? Still single?'

Skarre smiled broadly. 'Why would I need a wife,' he quipped, 'when I've got you?'

Later they drove to Guttestranda and sat on the jetty. For a while they savoured the unique feeling people experience in the presence of water. Sejer tried to glimpse the bottom, but failed. Then they saw a man walking along the beach some distance away.

'We have a visitor,' Skarre said.

The man had a brisk, energetic walk, he was short of build and bald, and he was wearing a navy blue puffa jacket and faded jeans. He raised his hand and greeted them solemnly. He reminded them of a little kid bursting with exciting news.

'My name's Andor,' he said. Sejer and Skarre looked at him with interest.

'You're detectives,' he stated.

They nodded.

He took a few steps closer to them and crouched down. He smiled confidently. His skin was strangely smooth and clear as if life had left no trace on him.

'I live in the yellow house up there.'

He turned around and pointed. 'The big one with three storeys. Behind that long balcony is my bedroom. I've just noticed I've left the window open. I'd forgotten all about that. I hope it doesn't start to rain or my bed will get soaked.'

Sejer and Skarre looked at the yellow house.

'It used to be a railway station,' he explained. 'The railway line went all the way down to the water.'

'Really?' said Sejer. He studied the man who had introduced himself as Andor. He estimated him to be around forty, he had small, chubby hands with stubby fingers and a budding beer belly. Was he mentally disabled? Sejer wondered. No, not that, just different. Someone at ease inside his own kingdom where