The Drowned Boy (7 page)

He brushed his teeth, put on his leather jacket, and picked up his briefcase from the desk. So far there were only a couple of documents concerning Tommy’s death. He asked Frank if he wanted to go to work. The dog ran to the door and sat there whining.

“We’re going out to Granfoss,” Sejer said, “and you’re coming with us.”

Skarre swallowed a jelly bean. The sugar surged through his veins, making him more alert.

“You’ve got no shame,” he said with a smile.

“I’m not going to harass them,” Sejer said. “Just a follow-up call to show that we care. To hear how they coped with the first terrible night. There are some upsetting aspects to the job, I agree. But if little Tommy was thrown in the pond on purpose, then someone is going to pay.”

“Absolutely,” Skarre agreed. “If I know you, you won’t let it go. Why are you so certain something is wrong?”

“Well,” Sejer began, “strictly speaking it was you who started it all, and I’m just following up on what you told me when we were standing down there by the pond. But Carmen Zita is obviously nervous. And she is not overwhelmed by grief. Her tears feel more like anxiety about what might lie in store.”

“I refused to let them do an autopsy,” Sejer said, once they were in the car. “I mean, when Elise died. Couldn’t bear the thought of it. I didn’t want those images in my head. It’s so brutal, opening up the body and emptying out all the organs.”

“You refused?” Skarre repeated in surprise. “Can you do that?”

“Yes,” Sejer said. “In many cases you can. The body belongs to the family. But not in the event of a suspicious death. Then it’s we who decide. But you know how it happened. It wasn’t exactly a secret that she died of liver cancer.”

His openness astonished Skarre. Sejer was not usually generous when it came to talking about personal things, particularly when it came to his late wife, Elise, or anything to do with her tragic death. Even though it was a long time ago now. Skarre knew to value this intimacy and thought that it meant something—trust, for instance. They had known each other for many years, after all. They could confide in each other. The older and the younger, a kind of warm, sociable partnership that had borne fruit in the form of numerous solved cases. The two men were famous in the district for their style and integrity.

“It’s early,” he said. “They might not be up yet.”

“They probably haven’t slept,” Sejer replied. “It wouldn’t surprise me if they were sitting there waiting. The fate of a liar, you know, expecting to be caught at any moment.”

Carmen Zita was wearing tiny denim shorts and a top with Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs on the front, thus confirming Sejer’s impression that she was still a child. When she saw both of them on the steps outside, she backed up a bit and put a hand to her head.

“Why are you here?” she asked. “Is there any news about Tommy? Already, after only one night?”

Sejer held out his hand and she took it, but her handshake was reluctant and without force.

“Are you going to ask us in?” Sejer suggested calmly. Carmen reversed into the hall.

“Yes, of course. Come on in. Dad will be here soon,” she added, as if she wanted to say that her time was limited and they were not particularly welcome. It was rather inconvenient in fact, and she really wanted them to leave. They could feel her reluctance, and she kept her distance.

“He’s going to help us with the funeral,” she explained. “We don’t have much money. We’ve got practically nothing,” she sighed, and shrugged with her palms up. “Dad’s trying to find someone to cover for us at Zita Quick. We can’t exactly work now, either of us, can we? After what’s happened. Follow me; let’s go into the kitchen. Let’s get this over and done with. It’s starting to bother me.”

She walked in front of them through the house. She sat down at the kitchen table and pointed to the empty chairs beside Nicolai with a resigned expression. Then she put her hand to her eyes to wipe away a tear, as they had started to fall again.

“Where is he now?” she asked. “Have they finished the autopsy? Is he lying in a drawer in the morgue?”

Sejer nodded. “Yes, yes, he is. And it will no doubt take some time before everything is sorted.”

“But we want to have the funeral as soon as possible,” Nicolai said, clearly anxious. “How long do you think we’ll have to wait?”

“That depends on the autopsy,” Skarre explained. “And on if they find anything. We promise to keep you informed.”

“But can we start planning?” Carmen asked. “There’s so much that has to be decided. Music and flowers and all sorts of things. He’s going to be buried at Møller Church. Can we choose a plot? There are some lovely birch trees on the slope up there. And we’ve got a plot there from before. Or will we be allocated something randomly?”

“I guess that you will be allocated a plot,” Skarre said. “But it will be beautiful, I’m sure of that. Tommy will be given the best place.”

“My sister Louisa is buried under the birch trees,” Carmen told them. “It would be nice if they could be near each other; they’re related, after all. Aunty Louisa,” she said with a smile. “I’m definitely going to ask the priest if we can have our wish. I mean, they have to listen to us, don’t they?”

“Do that,” Sejer said. “I’m glad to hear that you’re getting help with the funeral, because they are expensive. You’ll get some financial help, but I’m not sure how much, as it’s based on need. But every little bit helps. You must take good care of each other through all this,” he said in a kind voice. “Otherwise it will be an incredibly lonely time, believe me.”

“What do you know about grief?” Nicolai said angrily.

“Everything,” was Sejer’s curt reply. “Both personal and professional, and what’s more, it is part of my job to look after people. No two people grieve alike; you must remember that. Now, there’s something else I’d like to ask,” he said, changing the subject. “If you don’t find it too painful to answer. Did Tommy have a favorite between the two of you? I mean, was he closer to one of you?”

“Tommy was a daddy’s boy,” Nicolai said firmly. “And I was proud of that.”

“Yes, it’s always like that, isn’t it?” Carmen said. “Daddy’s so great. Because he’s not there most of the time. So there’s even more excitement when he does finally come home again in the evening. And he’s still got the energy to play, whereas I’ve been holding down the fort all day. And you know what, in the end you run out of ideas. Tommy was also very stubborn. It wasn’t always easy to keep him happy. But then I’m a daddy’s girl,” she said, “so I guess I’ll just have to accept the fact that Nicolai was more fun.”

“Can I ask one more thing?” Sejer pushed. “Would we be welcome at Tommy’s funeral?”

“Yes, of course,” Carmen said. “Of course, you’re welcome to come to the church. But please come in a normal car. And neither of you can be in uniform,” she added, nodding at Skarre. “I don’t want that. People will talk. You know how it is; we live in a small place.”

Sejer promised to do as they wished.

“Please let us know if you would like to talk to a psychologist,” he offered in a kindly manner.

Nicolai shook his head. “There’s not a lot to say. We’ve lost our child and we’re sad. What can they do to help? It’s just rubbish. And don’t give me all that talk about group therapy,” he said. “Sitting in a circle and sharing your innermost thoughts and feelings, no way. As I see it, grief is a private thing. And even if there are others in the same situation, Tommy was special. In every way. And we’re the only ones who’ve lost a boy like that.”

“Of course,” Sejer placated him. “But you are also allowed to change your minds, so just let me know. And promise me not to underestimate other people. There’s a lot to be said for experience, even if you don’t appreciate that now. A lot of people have been there before, and sometimes it’s good to lean on others. There, I’ve said my bit. And we’ll let you know as soon as the body is released.”

Carmen followed them out. She stood in the doorway, hesitating.

“Does the fact that you’ve come here mean something?” she asked. “Be honest.”

Sejer put his hand on her arm. “It simply means that we care,” he said, “and are doing all that we can in Tommy’s best interest.”

MARIAN ZITA’S FAST-FOOD
café was in the pedestrian zone between the square and 7-Eleven. It had red awnings over the windows and a sign above the door read
ZITA
QUICK.
There were twenty settings inside, and the whole place was saturated with the smell of fried food and spices. A girl wearing red nylon overalls and a hairnet was standing behind the counter.

“Can I help you?” she said. “Do you want to eat in? Or take out? The chairs in here are quite comfortable, but the ones outside are wrought iron, so we get quite a few complaints. Just so you know. So, how can I help you?” she said again. Her cheeks were flushed, perhaps because Skarre was a handsome sight in his immaculate uniform, with his blond curls under the black cap.

“Is something wrong?”

Sejer nodded to one of the tables at the back of the café. “Could be,” he said seriously. “Can you sit down for a couple of minutes?”

She nodded, came around from behind the counter, and walked toward them. She’s about the same age as Carmen, Sejer thought, or maybe a little older. Certainly no more than twenty-two.

“Um, well,” she stammered, “I just thought, is it to do with Carmen and Nicolai’s baby?”

Sejer gave her a reassuring look. She was wearing a locket around her neck, which might have a photo of her sweetheart inside. She sat there playing with it now, obviously nervous and anxious.

“Yes,” he replied. “We just want to talk to you a little about what happened up at Damtjern. You see, that’s what we do when someone dies. Especially if it’s a child.”

“But it was an accident, wasn’t it?” she said. “He fell off the jetty? That’s what Pappa Zita said when he called yesterday—that Tommy had wandered out of the kitchen and down to the pond. I almost couldn’t understand what he was saying. He was so upset, and I’ve never heard him like that before. It was scary. He’s always so big and strong, but he was crying like a baby. I had to ask him to repeat himself a few times, and it was difficult to know what to say. To be honest, I don’t even remember what I said. I was lost for words. I was pretty useless, really.”

“How well do you know Carmen and Nicolai?” Sejer asked.

She looked at them, one and then the other, her eyes as brown as horse chestnuts. She seemed to be honest and sincere.

“Not very well. I’m just a cover,” she explained. “I work when someone’s ill or on vacation, that sort of thing. And I’m working today because of Tommy. I mean, I speak to them sometimes, and I really feel for them right now. I don’t even know where to begin. Tommy’s a good boy, even if he is a bit different. There’s something good about children like that. They steal a piece of your heart.”

“That’s a nice thing to say,” Sejer remarked. “If only everyone could see it like that, things would be a lot better. Do you know what they were like as parents? They’re so young. What about Nicolai? What kind of father was he? Tell me what you know.”

“He was over the moon,” she said. “Never angry or anything like that. He really loved Tommy just the way he was.”

“And what about Carmen?” he probed.

“Well, Carmen,” she started, and then paused. “I think basically it bothered her. And I can understand that, since it must be really hard. Or maybe she was just embarrassed. She certainly never talked about it. She never talked about Tommy at all, which I thought was a bit weird. Most people love to talk about their children, but she wasn’t like that. If anyone mentioned that he was different, she immediately changed the subject, to the weather or something like that. Perhaps I shouldn’t be telling you, but it’s the truth. I’ve thought about it quite a lot. Having a child that you constantly have to explain to everyone else must be so hard and exhausting. You can’t ever get away from it. It’s always there, just think about it. Different and slow and in need of help. Different today and different every day for the rest of their lives.”

She sighed, paused, and shifted her position in the chair. As if she was suddenly uncomfortable that she had just admitted this. But they were from the police and she automatically felt she had to tell the truth at all costs. It just seemed to flow out of her.

“People could see he wasn’t right,” she continued, “and I think Carmen hated having to answer all the questions. But I’m sure she loved him as well, in her own way. Don’t you think? I mean, people come to love their children, no matter what.”

“Yes, that’s what we believe too,” Skarre assured her. “So, you’ll be getting a lot of shifts now. And I guess no one knows when they’ll be back at work?”

“Yes, I’ll do all I can to help, and I need the money. It’s just awful. I don’t know what to say, really. To think that things like this happen, it’s horrible.”

“Have you ever looked after him? Babysat or anything like that?”

“Yes, actually,” she said. “Just once. I went to their house up at Damtjern. It was Pappa Zita’s fiftieth and they were having a big party for him at that place at Granfoss. They thought it would be best if Tommy didn’t go. There was a band and all that, and they thought that maybe there would be too much noise for him.”

Sejer sat for a while thinking.

“What’s your name?” he asked after a pause.

“Elisabeth,” she replied.

“Elisabeth. Right. Do you mind if I ask you a personal question?”

“Of course. I’m OK with that,” she said with a slight smile. She adjusted her hairnet and folded her hands on the table, waiting like a schoolgirl.

“Do you have children?”

“No, I don’t have children. I don’t even have a boyfriend.”

Skarre looked at her intently. “You mean right now, today, you don’t have a boyfriend?”

“Yes, because we broke up on Friday,” she said and let out a light, tinkling laugh. Her laughter was cheering in the midst of all the sadness.

“But,” Sejer pushed, “if you were expecting a baby, that is, you and a possible partner—which you don’t have at the moment, but still, a boyfriend—and the doctor did an amnio, as they do on some women these days when they think there is a risk. Imagine that you were told that the baby you were carrying had Down syndrome. Would you have an abortion? Or would you choose to have the baby? Sorry to be so intrusive, and I understand if you don’t want to answer. I’m just curious.”