Karin Fossum: The Murder of Harriet Krohn

“Let’s move on,” says Sejer. “Perhaps now it’s time to establish what you actually wanted to do in Hamsund. What errand you had there.”

Charlo sits up in his chair.

“As I said before. I didn’t have any errand. Turning off the main road was an impulse. I remember seeing the floodlit church and turning off automatically. I just wanted to pass the time, so that I could go home and turn in. That’s what it was all about. Making the days pass.”

“What was the time when you turned off toward Hamsund?”

“It was probably almost ten-thirty.”

“I see. And then you drove around a bit?”

“Yes, I passed the railway station and drove up the street there.”

“Up Fredboesgate?”

“Yes. I just drove through it and looked at the nice old houses. They’re really quite charming; I’ve heard they’re listed. I drove to the end of the street and then turned around.”

“What made you park the car and get out?”

“I didn’t.”

Sejer bends over his documents.

“Didn’t you park your red Honda Accord behind the old hotel?”

“Not that I recall.”

“No, but someone else noticed and recalled it.”

“It must have been a different car. No, I never got out of the car. I’m quite certain of that.”

“You weren’t going to visit someone?”

“I don’t know anyone in Hamsund.”

“So, it was after your little trip through Fredboesgate that you had your accident?”

“Yes.”

“You were mentally unstable, intermittently suicidal, soaking wet, worried about the future, but despite all this you still wanted to look at some listed buildings?”

“Yes. You see, I was a bit up and down, slightly confused. But as I said, it was all about trying to pass the time.”

“Perhaps you sat in your car, behind the old hotel, and had a rest?”

“I really can’t remember about the hotel. That I parked there.”

“If you were down in the dumps as you say, it may be hard to remember details. But I’m sure they’ll gradually return. That’s why we’re sitting here. And the time, Mr. Torp? Are you quite sure it was ten-thirty when you got to Hamsund?

“I remember that I looked at the time.”

“But your car was parked behind the hotel at ten o’clock.”

“That can’t be right.”

“It’s right according to my documents. Perhaps you’re mistaken?”

“It was dark and all that, and filthy weather. If someone saw a car similar to mine behind the hotel, I don’t think that means much. People get things wrong all the time. And I’m not the only person who drives a Honda.”

“Its reliability will appear in the long run. I’m sure you’re wrong about the time. That’s hardly a crime, but I need to have it exactly. Did you sit there, perhaps, wondering if you ought to visit someone?”

“I’ve already said that I don’t know anyone there.”

“But the flowers, Mr. Torp. Who were they for? You had a large bunch of flowers with you.”

Charlo slowly blanches. He clenches his teeth.

“Now you’re completely on the wrong track,” he says.

“A large mixed bouquet. Really nice. A lot of work had been put into it.”

“I never buy flowers. This is all nonsense.”

“Try to think back, Mr. Torp. To the flower shop.”

“Which flower shop?”

“Tina’s Flowers, next to Cash & Carry.”

“I’ve never been there.”

“The seventh of November, just before eight in the evening. They close at eight, and you only just made it. Who were the flowers for?”

“I’m telling you — you’re on the wrong track!”

“They were for a woman, weren’t they?”

“I don’t know any women in Hamsund.”

Silence. Sit there, feel the other’s strength, weigh your words, think. Plan the next move, remember. Save your skin and get out of this room. Oh, God! You’re not going to get out. Sejer interrupts his thoughts.

“The bouquet cost two hundred and fifty kroner. You spent a lot of money, so it must have been important to you.”

Charlo lowers his head and is silent. He drums his fingers on the desk.

“You’ll have to find another angle because I can’t go with this one.” He stares doggedly at the desktop.

“Mr. Torp,” Sejer says quietly. “It’s not our belief or suspicion that you bought flowers on the seventh of November. It’s something we know. So, let’s take them with us to Hamsund and be done with it. We want to move on, don’t we?”

“My mind’s really tired. I’ve been in the hospital the past few days. Can we take a break?”

“WHAT ARE YOU thinking about?” Sejer asks.

“I’m thinking that you’re going to start giving me a hard time.”

“You think I’m going to put you through it?”

“Obviously.”

“Only if it’s necessary. So what did you do before the riding center? I mean, before you were unemployed?”

“I worked in a car showroom. I was a pretty good salesman. Honda and Subaru. New and used.”

“Liked it?”

“Yes. I had a great time. Before I really began to mess things up.”

“Why did you give it up? Did it close?”

“No,” he says candidly. “I was sacked on the spot. I embezzled a small sum because of my gambling debts. They never reported me. But, you know, I was on my uppers. And that was the biggest misdeed of my life.” He looks straight at Sejer. “It was done on the spur of the moment, though. It wasn’t anything I planned to do. The temptation was too great. I had debts even then.”

“So what’s your opinion of something that’s planned? Does that make it a worse crime?”

“Yes, don’t you think so?”

Sejer drinks his Farris.

“Obviously we use many different terms. Premeditated, willful, and involuntary. And there are reasons for that. And then there are mitigating circumstances. These are actually quite a new concept in judicial terms. In the past they didn’t exist. A murder was a murder, and was punished in the same way. But your embezzlement probably had some extenuating circumstances. Presumably you were desperate?”

“I was desperate,” Charlo says, nodding. “And I was also ashamed. I was unable to look after my family, and that was a huge, unbearable humiliation.”

“That’s not difficult to understand.”

“Luckily we managed to keep it from Julie. She wasn’t all that old at the time. But now I’ve bared my soul to her. I’ve told her everything.”

“There are no secrets between you anymore?”

“No. No big ones at least.”

He drains his glass.

“Except for the fact that you’re sitting here,” says Sejer. “Haven’t you got to explain that to her as well?”

“Naturally. In one way or another.”

“What will you tell her?”

“The truth, of course. That I’m only being questioned as a witness.”

“You think that’s what you are?”

“Am I a suspect? If that’s the case, I assume you’ve got a duty to inform me.”

Sejer nods gravely. “Well,” he says, “we have reasonable grounds for suspicion. That’s why you’re here.”

“Is that so?” says Charlo. “You’ve come out with it at last. You couldn’t exactly be accused of jumping the gun.”

“Let’s tidy things up a bit,” Sejer says. “Certain things are getting in the way. Unimportant things.”

“Such as what?”

“Your trip to Kongsberg. Can we sweep that out of the way?”

“Why?”

“You were never there. You’re simply trying to fill up the evening.”

“Of course I went to Kongsberg. Why should that be a problem?”

“I believe you drove straight to Hamsund. And there was a large bunch of flowers on the seat next to you. You parked behind the old hotel and got out with the flowers.”