Karin Fossum - The Water's Edge

Brein fished a packet of cigarettes out of his shirt pocket. The men followed his movements as he stuck a cigarette in his mouth. He found a disposable lighter and inhaled greedily.

'Well, what might a man be doing in a forest,' Brein speculated. 'Berry-picking, perhaps?'

Sejer made no reply. The fact that Brein had lit a cigarette might mean that he was prepared to continue talking to them, so they stayed where they were.

'No, honestly, I don't go to the forest very much,' Brein said casually. The cigarette glowed against his pale face.

Obviously he's a suspect, Sejer thought, he confirms all our prejudices. All the same, he might be innocent. We must proceed with caution.

'If you happen to think of anything later,' Sejer said, 'something you need to tell us, we would really like you to get in touch.'

'You don't say,' said Brein.

Sejer considered the disturbing fact that they had no grounds for interviewing him. He had been spotted in the relevant area, but he had no previous convictions and there was nothing that linked him to the crime. I've only got one card left to play, he thought, and I've got to play it now.

'However, there's an easy way,' he started, 'to put an end to this. But it requires your co-operation.'

'It would be a relief to get this over with,' Brein said.

He was angry now. Angry that they harassed him when his life was already filled with anguish and misery.

'It so happens,' Sejer went on, 'that we have obtained some evidence. And with your help we can eliminate you.'

'What are you talking about?' Brein asked suspiciously.

'You volunteer to give us a saliva sample.'

A deathly silence followed. Brein's eyes narrowed.

'I refuse to be treated like a criminal,' he exploded.

'A DNA test would also prove your innocence,' Skarre argued.

'I haven't killed those boys,' Brein raged, 'and that's God's honest truth. I've got nothing else to say to you!'

He flicked the cigarette away and reversed the wheelchair back down the hallway. He struggled considerably to shut the door, but after several clumsy attempts he finally managed to slam it.

Sejer and Skarre looked at each other. They were both grinning broadly.

'What do you think the court will say?' Sejer said.

'They might throw it out,' Skarre suggested.

'They might,' Sejer said, 'but we're not doing anything illegal.'

'No.'

'And evidence gathered in this way would be admissible in court. Wouldn't it?'

'And no one can claim that we lied to Brein. Or entrapped him.'

'No, they can't.'

'We've just had an incredible stroke of luck. And what if we get a match?'

'Then it becomes his defence counsel's problem,' Skarre said. 'Let's risk it.'

'Let's risk it,' Sejer agreed.

He squatted down and looked closely at the cigarette Brein had tossed aside.

'Do you have an evidence bag?'

Sejer looked at the photographs of Edwin and Jonas August.

'Have you considered that it would take three Jonases to make one Edwin? Jonas weighed twenty-eight kilos. Edwin weighs nearly ninety.'

Skarre studied the boys. One tiny and skinny, the other huge and obese. 'Just as well the public can't see us now,' he said, 'sitting here, making fun of the boys. Where are you going with this?'

'I'm not making fun of them. It's a fact.'

'But is it relevant? That they are extremes?'

'I don't think it means anything in particular. They were walking along the road when he drove by. They both got into his car, which might mean that they knew him. However, I doubt that they would know Brein and that's why I hesitate. And I'm not buying the wheelchair story.'

'Surely people don't have a wheelchair in their home unless they need it?' Skarre protested. He felt restless. He started pacing the floor. 'What if Brein does a runner while we sit here twiddling our thumbs.'

'We're not twiddling our thumbs,' Sejer said, 'and I can't imagine that he is going anywhere with that bad hip of his. You need to calm down. You're pinning everything on him. Don't do it: you could end up terribly disappointed.'

Skarre walked to the door. 'Come on,' he said. 'We're going out. We can walk and talk, I need some fresh air. It's got to be him, it's got to be Brein. I can't bear another dead end, not after all this time.'

They went out into the city. A little more snow had fallen, a fine powdery layer. The sight of the snow made them feel ill at ease. They thought of Edwin Åsalid and images of a frozen body started taking shape in their minds.

'So you think Brein's our man?' Sejer said. 'Does he confirm all our prejudices?'

'He's on benefits,' Skarre said. 'He's a loner. He has little money, dresses badly, finds it hard to interact with adults. Rather scruffy, a bit of a loser. Yes, of course he fits the profile. But there might be another side to him, which so far we've failed to see. Something noble, even, what do I know?'

'Something noble? Why noble?'

'I don't know. I just don't want to be prejudiced, though I think it's probably too late for that. You saw him too, you must have formed an impression?'

'We're all prejudiced,' Sejer said. 'It's a vital part of our survival instinct. What did you think when we were standing outside Brein's front door? Your gut reaction. Be honest.'

'I thought that it might be him. That he might have killed Edwin and Jonas August. What did you think?'

'That he might be innocent. We've got to be very careful.'

'I knew it,' Skarre said. 'You're a better person than I am.'

A few snowflakes had landed on Sejer's grey hair. His sharp profile stood out clearly against the white background.

'We have nothing to fear, we live in a country with a decent legal system,' he said. 'If it turns out we have a DNA match, Brein will have access to a defence counsel and anything else he might need. He will be treated humanely and given plenty of time to tell us his side of the story. Jonas August won't have that privilege and neither will Edwin. They have lost the rest of their lives, and their deaths were horrific. They were alone and they were terrified. I think about that a great deal.'

'I try not to,' Skarre admitted. 'The thought of it chills me to the bone.'

'It has its uses,' Sejer said. 'You need to keep the crime in mind and remember how evil it was. And for that matter, the role we play in all this.'

'Which is what?'

'Well, you know,' Sejer said. 'We get involved and we restore order and dignity.'

'Good heavens,' Skarre exclaimed. 'That's beyond us. All we can do is clean up, Konrad.'

'Don't underestimate yourself or your own purpose.'

'What do you think the prosecutor will say?' Skarre said.

'That Jonas August died in particularly aggravating circumstances. And that the punishment should reflect it. But the man in the dock, if we end up with a man in the dock, will be preoccupied with saving his own skin, and that's his right. But I can't stop myself from saying that a little remorse would be appropriate. There is not enough remorse in Norwegian prisons. And remorse would help the victim's family. Mankind can be very magnanimous, given the chance.'

'Is that your honest opinion?'

'It's a belief that sustains me.'

Skarre bent down and scooped up some snow in his hands, pressing it together into a rock-hard ball.

'Here we are waiting for the results of the DNA test,' he said, 'and Brein is pottering about in blissful ignorance. I can't stand it.'

Elfrid Løwe had come to the police station where she spent a long time talking to Jacob Skarre. He listened with kindness and attention, resting his chin on his hand.

'Jonas was a quick and gentle boy,' she said. 'Nimble like a squirrel, up and down the stairs like the wind. Curious, eager and positive. Sometimes he would look at me with his large, blue eyes, hungry for love. He needed so much attention, and I could offer him an endless supply, it was just the two of us. At school he was quiet and shy, his teacher was always telling me so at parents' evenings. Jonas is a little passive, she said, it would be good if he could try to be a little more assertive in lessons. He suffered from a number of allergies, but he managed his medication himself. I thought it was going well on the whole, but I always worried about his asthma. And he was tiny. Perhaps that's what held him back. I'm sure you'll start growing soon and you'll be big and strong in a few years, I used to say. Mothers always say things like that because we can't bear our children's disappointment when something upsets them, it tears us apart.