Fear Not Part 46

Johanne stared at her scribbles. Six murders. Two covered up, two almost ignored, simply because the victims were right at the bottom of the scale of humanity in every way. She suddenly drew a thick ring around the last two names.

'There you go,' said Adam, handing her a half-full gla.s.s. 'Not exactly the usual Friday night. Apart from the wine, I mean.'

'What we can almost definitely say,' said Johanne, taking the gla.s.s without looking up, 'is that something unforeseen happened when Marianne Kleive was murdered. The killer was surprised by Kristiane. In other words, we can't actually be certain whether this murder would also have been covered up. As an accident. An illness. Something. To make sure the alarm wasn't sounded straight away, the murderer sent text messages from her mobile. That gave him a whole week.'

'Does this just mean they don't want to get caught, that they just want to buy themselves time, or that they want-?'

'But let's look at the Bishop,' said Johanne, suddenly realizing that the page she was writing on had a picture of Eva Karin in the right-hand column.

She turned the old paper ninety degrees and drew a square around the small portrait on the front page.

'There was no attempt to disguise this murder,' she said, mostly to herself.

Adam was sensible enough to keep quiet.

'Quite the reverse,' she went on. 'Stabbed out in the street. True, it happened on the only day of the year when you can be fairly sure n.o.body is out and about, but still ... The intention was that she should be found quickly. The intention was that the murder of ...'

She held her breath for so long that Adam wondered if something was wrong.

'Of course!' she said suddenly in a loud voice, turning to look at Adam. 'Let's a.s.sume that my theory is correct. The other murders are perceived as something else. The objective was quite simply ...'

She stared at him as if she had only just noticed that he was sitting there.

'... that they should die,' she said in surprise. 'The only objective was that they should die! Death itself was the goal!'

Adam thought it was fairly obvious that a person was murdered because someone wanted them dead, but he kept quiet.

'They're sinners,' said Johanne, waxing almost enthusiastic. 'And they must be punished for their sins! It doesn't matter to The 25'ers whether the rest of us can see a link, or whether we even realize a crime lies behind their deaths. The most important thing is that they must die, and then that the murderers G.o.d's instruments, so to speak are not subject to our worldly legislation.'

'Yes,' Adam ventured tentatively.

'Only one of these victims is known to the public,' Johanne went on. 'Eva Karin Lysgaard. And she was the only one who was murdered in a way that positively cries out for attention. Why would that be, Adam?'

She knelt on the sofa and turned towards him. Her face was glowing. Her eyes were shining, her mouth half-open. She took his hand and squeezed it so hard it almost hurt.

'Why, Adam?'

'Because,' he said. 'Because ...'

'Because they want us to start digging into her life! The investigation into the murder of Eva Karin Lysgaard is an investigation they wanted to happen, Adam! The whole point was for us to turn her life upside down, just as all murder victims have their lives turned inside out in the hope that something will turn up!'

'In the hope that something will turn up,' he repeated quietly. 'Hang on a minute.'

Johanne followed him with her eyes as he padded into the hallway. She was out of breath, and her palms p.r.i.c.kled when he came back and handed her a photograph before sitting down again.

'Who's this?' she asked.

'I don't know who she is,' he said. 'But this is a copy of a photograph that went astray.'

He told her about the room that had been Eva Karin's sanctuary at night. About the photograph that had been there the day after the murder, but had disappeared when he went back a couple of days later. When he got to the part about Lukas scrambling across the roof in the January rain, he started to laugh. At the end he took back the photograph and laid it on his knee.

'Lukas thought she might be his sister,' he said. 'But you can tell from both the quality of the picture and the clothes she's wearing that it's hardly likely it was taken around 1980. And her hairstyle isn't exactly typical of the eighties either.'

'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 ba.s.s 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 h.o.m.os.e.xual 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 ma.s.s 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 heteros.e.xual,' she said. 'At least, she's the only one who is apparently heteros.e.xual.'

'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.

'n.o.body 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 n.o.body 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 m.u.f.fled. '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.

'I don't want to talk about it,' he said in a loud voice.

'But Dad, things will be easier now. Stubo thinks this is a major breakthrough, and they're almost bound to clear up the case. It'll be easier for both of us to move on when we know what-'

'Did you hear me? Did you hear what I said?'

His father was trying to shout, but his voice wouldn't hold.

'I don't want to talk about this! Not now. Not ever!'

Lukas took a deep breath and was about to say something, but changed his mind. There was nothing more to say.

Sooner or later his father would reach a turning point in his grief. Lukas was sure of it. Just as he himself had felt a strange sense of relief when Stubo rang while they were getting William dressed, in time his father would also find comfort in the knowledge that Eva Karin had died for something she believed in.

There was no longer any point in going on at his father about the photograph.

When Astrid told him late last night that she had given the photograph to Adam Stubo, he had yelled, ranted and sworn at her. In the middle of his outburst he had hurled a gla.s.s vase on to the kitchen floor. It exploded into a thousand pieces, and only when he saw her terrified expression and realized she was afraid he was going to attack her did he manage to calm down.

It didn't matter so much any more.

His mother's murder would be cleared up, and it evidently had nothing to do with a missing sister. Adam Stubo had promised him over the phone that the photo would be returned as soon as they had made copies, and had said it was probably less central to the murder than he had first thought. The body would be released and the funeral could take place in just five days.

That would help all of them.

His father, too, he thought. It was more important for his father than for any of them to be able to draw a line under this before too much longer.

When all this was over, Lukas could look for his sister in peace. Whatever Astrid thought. At any rate, there was no need to bother his father about why the photograph had been moved from his mother's room and hidden in the attic.

He still had a sore throat. The tea tasted bitter, and he put down the cup.

His father was asleep. At least it looked that way: his eyes were closed, and his scrawny chest was moving up and down with a slow, even rhythm.

Lukas decided to stay. He closed his eyes, pulled his mother's old tartan blanket over him and fell asleep.