Anne Holt - Fear Not

‘So what do you think?’ said Johanne, without taking her eyes off the photograph.

‘I’ve been wondering whether she might be an unknown aunt rather than sister to Lukas. Eva Karin’s illegitimate sister. That would explain the fact that she looks a bit like Lukas.’

‘Does she? I think she looks like Lill Lindfors.’

Adam grinned. ‘You’re not the only one. Anyway, it won’t be long until we know who she is. Both the Bergen police and NCIS are working on it. If this woman is still alive, we’ll know who she is in a few days. If not sooner.’

‘And where will that lead?’

‘What? Finding out who she is?’

‘Yes. How can you be sure she’s got something to do with the case?’

‘I suppose I can’t be sure,’ Adam said hesitantly. ‘But you have to admit it’s weird that Erik Lysgaard put it away as soon as he had the chance.’

‘Have you asked him about it?’

‘No… It gives me the upper hand if he doesn’t even know I’ve discovered the photograph, and I want to keep it that way.’

In the apartment below the film had reached Knowing Me, Knowing You . The neighbours had turned down the volume at last, but the bass still vibrated through the floor. Johanne took back the photograph.

‘What an exciting face,’ she murmured. ‘Strong, somehow.’

Adam leaned forward and grabbed a handful of crisps. So far he’d managed to resist temptation.

‘Can you move those out of the way, please,’ he mumbled as he crunched away. ‘Crisps are the work of the devil.’

Instead of doing as he asked, she got up and started to walk around the room with the photograph in her hand.

‘Adam,’ she said expressionlessly, almost absent-mindedly. ‘Eva Karin’s murder is different from the others in terms of the method. What else distinguishes this case from the rest?’

‘I… I don’t really know.’

‘There’s reason to believe that all the other victims were gay. Or at any rate that they had a direct link to homosexual or lesbian activities.’

Adam stopped chewing. The crisps suddenly felt like an unappetizing, sticky calorie bomb in his mouth. He picked up a used serviette from the table, spat the revolting, yellowish-brown mass into it and tried to screw it up. A little bit fell on the floor, and he bent down sheepishly to retrieve it.

Johanne took no notice whatsoever. She had stopped by the window. She stood with her back to him for a long time before turning around and pointing at the photograph.

‘Eva Karin is the only heterosexual,’ she said. ‘At least, she’s the only one who is apparently heterosexual.’

‘What do you mean by…? What do you mean by “apparently”?’

‘This,’ said Johanne, holding the photograph up to face him. ‘This is neither Lukas’s nor Eva Karin’s sister. This is the Bishop’s lover.’

There was complete silence in the building. The film must have finished in the apartment below. The wind had dropped. The floor-boards didn’t even creak as she walked back to the sofa and carefully – as if she didn’t want to lose a complex chain of thought – sat down beside him.

‘It’s not possible,’ Adam said eventually. ‘We haven’t heard a single rumour. That kind of thing leads to gossip, Johanne. People talk about that kind of thing. It’s not possible for…’

He grabbed the photograph, a little more roughly than he had intended.

‘In that case, why does she look so much like Lukas?’

‘Pure coincidence. Besides which, both you and no doubt Lukas have studied this photograph so intently to try and find a clue that even the slightest resemblance would strike you. It happens. People look like one another sometimes. For example, you look a lot like-’

‘But if it hasn’t occurred to us that Eva Karin might have been living a double life, then how could The 25’ers know about it? If you’re right about this completely absurd… If you’re right about…’

He swallowed and ran his fingers through his hair in an uncertain, resigned gesture.

‘Nobody knew about it! How can The 25’ers have known about a… a lesbian lover…’

He spat out the words as if they had a bitter taste.

‘… when nobody else knew?’

‘Somebody knew. One person knew.’

‘Who?’

‘Erik Lysgaard. Her husband. He must have known. You don’t live together for forty years without knowing that sort of thing. They must have had… some kind of agreement.’

‘And then he would have… told… he would have… if he had any idea that…’

It almost seemed as if the big man was about to burst into tears. Johanne still hadn’t noticed a thing.

‘He must have told someone,’ she said. ‘Not The 25’ers, obviously, but someone close to them. That’s why they wanted this case investigated, Adam. They wanted us to discover Eva Karin’s… sin. And that’s what we’ve just done.’

Adam put his hands to his face. His breath was coming in short gasps. Johanne had never noticed it before, but his wedding ring was digging so deep into his finger that he probably wouldn’t be able to get it off.

‘You have to find this woman,’ she whispered, moving so close to him that her lips brushed his ear. ‘And then you have to get Erik to tell you the name of the person to whom he revealed this great secret.’

‘The first part will be easy,’ he said from behind his hands, his voice muffled. ‘I think the second part will be impossible.’

‘But you have to try,’ said Johanne. ‘At least you have to make an attempt to talk to Erik Lysgaard.’

The Bishop’s widower was sitting in his usual old armchair staring blankly out into the living room, which was almost in darkness. Only a lamp next to the TV and a candle on the coffee table cast a soft, yellow glow over the room. Lukas was sitting in his mother’s armchair. It was as if he could feel the warmth of her on his back, the contours of the mother he missed with an intensity he couldn’t possibly have imagined before she died.

‘So at least we know the reason,’ he said quietly. ‘Mum died because she took a stand. She died for her generosity, Dad. For her faith in Jesus.’

Erik still didn’t answer. He had barely said a word since his son had arrived three hours ago, and he had refused to eat any of the food Lukas had brought with him. A cup of tea was all he had managed to get down, and that had taken some persuasion.

He had, however, agreed to read the newspaper. In a way that was a sign of life, Lukas thought.

‘Why hasn’t anybody contacted me?’ his father said, so unexpectedly that Lukas spilt a little of his own tea. ‘I don’t think I should have to read about this in the paper.’

‘They rang me. I had Inspector Stubo on the phone this morning, from Flesland. He had to go back to Oslo, and I didn’t think it was a good idea for them to send somebody else to talk to you. You’ve kind of… got used to him. I knew you wouldn’t be listening to the radio or watching TV, and you don’t answer the phone either, so I thought it was best if I came myself. I came as soon as I could, Dad.’

Erik gave him a long, lingering look. His eyes were red-rimmed, and from the corners of his mouth a deep, dark furrow ran down either side of his chin. His nose was narrower now, and seemed bigger. In the flickering candlelight he looked half-dead.

‘You don’t sound very well,’ he said. ‘You sound as if you’ve got a cold.’

‘Yes.’ Lukas smiled wearily. ‘I’m not on top form. But it’s good to know this, Dad. To know there was a particular reason why she was murdered. We should be proud of the fact that she…’

His father gasped. Snorted, snivelled audibly and covered his eyes with the back of his hand.