Black Seconds (29 page)

Quietly Sejer walked back. Stood immobile on the living room floor watching the dog try to settle in his usual spot by his chair. It was a wretched sight. A sinking feeling of despair started in the pit of Sejer's stomach. The dog moved in slow, rigid circles around his own body. Then he started to lower himself to the floor, shaking a little, somewhat unsteady. His hind legs first, then his front paws. It was clearly painful for him to move from standing to lying. After a protracted and clumsy maneuver he finally laid down. His large head was the last part to be lowered. An infinitely deep sigh then followed, as though he were taking his final breath.

I can't allow this to go on, Sejer thought. He instantly turned the other way. He could not bear to look his dog in the eye.

Elsa Mork used her strength to maintain a feeling of control. She had slept, eaten, and given herself a good talking-to. She held her head high and for her age she was a fit woman, but she was reaching the end of her life nonetheless. She knew this. Besides, she possessed a strong inner sense of decency. Yet still she fought against the inevitable. Losing her reputation would cause her great pain. She stared closely at Sejer in order to convince herself that he really would believe her if she told him the truth. And be able to understand it. She gauged the extent to which he would judge her. He was a kind man. This baffled her. When he had arrived on her doorstep with the nightie in the shopping bag, she had felt such fear. In here it was different. She had not felt threatened by him, not for one second.

"Are you just as kind to Emil as you are to me?" she asked on impulse. The next moment she blushed.

"It's easy to be kind to Emil," Sejer said. "He's a very charming man."

He was being completely sincere as he said this. Elsa felt that she believed him. She suppressed a sob. Gulped as if she were swallowing something too big too quickly. She could cry later when no one was looking. She controlled herself.

"Tell me about Emil," Sejer said. "What makes him angry?"

She watched him for a long time.

"Well," she said bitterly, "I do when I turn up with my mop. Though he doesn't really get angry. He sulks. Thinks there is no need for cleaning." She thought about her son and felt powerless. Because he was out of her reach in a way he never had been before. She was used to entering his house whenever she pleased. Now she could neither take care of him nor control him.

"No," she said, "I don't think he ever gets angry, to be honest, but then he never sees anyone. If his three-wheeler refuses to start, he just gives it a puzzled look. Then he starts to fix it with great patience. Everything practical such as nuts and bolts he handles really well."

"But if you think back. His whole life. Since he was a child. Do you recall anything that made him angry?"

She bit her lip. Thought of the nightmare that haunted her. Imagined the condemnation that would follow; she was convinced that telling Sejer about the incident was handing him on a plate precisely what he was looking for. Evidence of frenzied, destructive rage. Nevertheless she started talking to him. In the midst of everything, Elsa had to acknowledge that she was receiving a level of attention she had not experienced for years. And she was getting it from a man. It was the first time she had tried to put the incident into words, and she stuttered slightly.

"He was eight years old," she recalled, "and he was playing outside in the yard. We lived in a small house out at Gullhaug. Emil was quite stubborn even when he was little. Getting him to do as he was told wasn't easy. But he was also very fearful. He was scared of the chickens, can you believe it?" She smiled as she said this, and Sejer smiled back at her.

"Our neighbor had a puppy," she said, "a beagle, I think it was. It had escaped from their house and strayed into our yard. I saw it from the window. Emil just froze when the puppy suddenly came running up to him. It jumped straight up at him, wanting to play. He tried to shake it off, but it was no use. He twisted and turned, but not a sound came out of his mouth. I was standing by the window ironing shirts and soon realized that I would have to go outside and rescue him, but I was feeling annoyed too, I admit it. Most kids would welcome a puppy with open arms. But not Emil. He started kicking it." She groaned. "He was wearing heavy boots, that was all he ever wanted to wear, you'd think he was worried something would happen to his toes ... well, anyway, he started kicking it. He kicked it quite hard."

She slumped as she recalled the scene. The images made her feel nauseated. "The puppy ran off and lay trembling on the ground," she said. "Suddenly I couldn't move and I began to feel terribly scared. But he didn't stop kicking it. It was as if he was having a fit of madness, and I was trying to snap myself out of my trance, but I kept holding on to the iron and could hardly believe my own eyes. The puppy flew off all over the place and Emil ran after it, kicking it and jumping on it with all his might. I felt so cold," she said, her voice quivering. "Never in all my life have I seen anything like it. When I finally went outside, there was practically nothing left of it. I got a plastic bag from the kitchen and shoveled the puppy into it. Then I buried it in the garden. I said nothing to Emil, I didn't know what to say, I couldn't even look at him."

She rubbed her face in despair. "Our neighbor never knew what happened to his puppy. I raked dry sand over the blood on the ground and took Emil inside. I pretended it had never happened. But ever since then," she said, and finally she had the courage to look him in the eye, "ever since then I have had a kind of power over Emil. Because I had seen him. Since that day he has done everything I've told him to."

Sejer digested this story in silence for a while. He did not like what he had just heard.

"In other words, he gets angry when he feels threatened or scared," he said eventually. "And he's scared of many things. He defends himself with great rage."

"We're talking about a puppy," she said weakly.

"Maybe that's not important," he said, consoling her. "People are scared of all sorts of things. Haven't you ever seen normally sensible adults lose it completely if a wasp flies into the room?"

Elsa had to smile.

"But surely Ida was no threat to him?" Sejer said, mainly to himself. Elsa was startled. Shook her head in disbelief, tried to follow where he was going. Everything was happening so quickly now. She wanted to pull back, but it was too late, so she just wailed: "I don't know! I wasn't there when it happened. And he couldn't tell me!"

The room fell utterly silent. Slowly she realized what she had just said, and it surprised her that she felt less anguish than she had been anticipating. This is where we were heading all the time, she thought. I must have known it from the beginning; I just pretended not to understand.

"Tell me what you saw," Sejer asked.

Slowly she gave up. She surrendered to the truth. Her story followed, stumbling and faltering, but he did not for one moment doubt that she was telling him the truth.

"Sometimes I visit Emil unannounced," she confessed. "I admit I do it on purpose. To check up on him. And now you know why. So that's what I do. It was a long time ago. Several months, I think. He got very agitated when I suddenly pulled up in front of his house. There was a girl standing outside. She was feeding the bird. When the weather's mild Emil sometimes takes the cage outside so Henry the Eighth can get some fresh air and some sunshine. I was very concerned. I thought of how rumors would fly if anyone saw Emil with a little girl. I asked her who she was and where she lived. She said she lived in Glassverket. She told me she had been out on her bicycle and had heard the bird sing. I don't even know if Emil really took any notice of her; it was as if they were each doing their own thing. She was busy feeding the bird, he was tinkering with his three-wheeler. I told her to go away and not come back. She did not reply. Finally she gave me a defiant look and then she smiled. But she left on her bicycle and I never saw her again." Elsa shifted in the chair. "Not until that awful day," she whispered.

"So you don't know if that was the first time Ida was there?" Sejer said.

"I didn't ask. And you know he can't speak. It was the only time I surprised them like that. It troubled me, but I pushed it out of my mind. Then one evening I was watching the news. The second of September. The photo of the missing girl. I recognized her at once. It was the girl who had visited Emil. That's just a coincidence, I told myself, but I was worried. So worried that I didn't even dare drive over to check. Not until the following day. Then I went over to wash his clothes. That's why I go there," she added, "and to make sure that everything's all right. But that day, the third of September, I was going there to do some washing. I called him first. He was impossible on the phone. He often says 'no' when I call him to tell him I'm coming over, but I just ignore it. However, on that day he was different. Scared. Desperate almost," she recalled. "I became suspicious. And then nervous," she admitted, "because you never know with Emil. And I was so worried about the missing girl. So I left the house to do my chores at Emil's and to find out if anything was wrong."

She gave Sejer a look of anguish across the table. "He had locked his front door. And put something gooey in the keyhole. I don't know what, chewing gum perhaps. I tried unlocking the door with my own key, but it was no good. I drove back to get some tools I could use to force the door. I was so scared," she said, "that everything I'd always feared had finally happened. So I simply broke down the door; I didn't care about anything anymore. Not the door, which was badly damaged, or the neighbors who might be watching me. When I finally got into the kitchen, he was behaving strangely. He was so defiant and sullen. I noticed that his duvet was on the sofa and thought, why on earth doesn't he sleep in his bed? And there was such an odd smell everywhere, an absolutely awful stench. I wanted to go into his bedroom, but he wouldn't let me. I tried to open the door, but that too was locked."

Now she was pressing one hand to her chest and her body slumped in the chair. "I was so frightened," she said. "I couldn't understand what he was hiding from me. I demanded that he unlock the door. I said, I know you, I know when you're in trouble and you are right now! I had to force the door with a crowbar. And when the door sprang open and I saw what was on his bed, I nearly fainted."

She pressed her lips together and clapped her hand over her mouth as if to prevent any more words from escaping. Sejer sat completely still, waiting. She carried on.

"I recognized her straightaway. But I could not understand how she had ended up on Emil's bed. She looked untouched; there were no injuries, no blood, and yet she was dead and I started screaming. I couldn't control myself. Emil Johannes put his hands over his ears and screamed too; he was screaming 'no, no' like he always does. I feel dizzy," she said suddenly. She flopped against the table.

"Have a rest," Sejer said. "Take a deep breath and rest for a while."

And she did. Sejer waited. He imagined the terror she must have felt. It was obvious that a shock like that would make someone act irrationally. He understood her panic and despair. However, he decided that she must also be a very strong-minded woman to have gone ahead with her plan. She had acted despite her fear, panic, and distress. Cool, calm, and collected.

"I took off her clothes," Elsa went on. "Her chest was completely destroyed, as if someone had kicked her, and I looked at Emil because I realized that he must have kicked her, but he denied it. He said 'no, no,' and I couldn't understand why he would have done it, either. She was a lovely little girl. Just like the one I always wanted," she sobbed, "when I was younger. And never got. I just got a big, sullen boy who wouldn't talk. Who never wanted to be with anyone. And now he had dragged this girl into his house and kicked her to death just like he kicked that puppy, and I just did not understand why!"

She was silent once more. Sejer tried to picture what Elsa had just told him.

"I knew I'd never get an answer from Emil, so I decided to act quickly and not even try to understand why; all I knew was that I had a son who was different. And that something dreadful had happened. He had disgraced himself and me and I couldn't bear that. Not now when I'm old and my days are numbered. All I've ever wanted was to go to my grave without a stain on my character," she cried. "I've kept an eye on him and looked after him all these years so that this would not happen. And now it has."

"Tell me what you did," Sejer said.

"I needed time to work out what to do," she said. "I shouted at Emil; I said, Now you'll do as you're told and no moaning, because if anyone finds out about this it'll be the end for both of us. You'll go to prison, I screamed, and so will I. So now you'll help me, even though you never have before. He was acting so strangely," she recalled. "He was standing so straight, like a statue, and I just couldn't understand why he wasn't more distraught than he was. Oh, he was upset all right, but it wasn't like the incident with the puppy. He looked confused. As if everything that had happened made no more sense to him than it did to me. He just shut himself off and I didn't have the strength to probe him for an explanation. Her clothes had to go. They weren't all that clean anymore," she said, looking up at him, "and the smell was really bad now. I found Emil's summer duvet and wrapped her in it. I asked him to clear out the freezer in the basement. There was hardly anything in it, so that didn't take long. The only thing that mattered was that no one must know. I had to get everything right, had to hide every clue that would lead you to Emil. He carried her downstairs to the basement and placed her in the freezer. Then he disappeared up the stairs," she recollected, "while I shut the lid. When I came back up he was rocking himself backward and forward in a chair and the bird was making a racket and most of all I wanted to hurl it out of the window to shut it up. Stop its constant piercing screams. It was like the end of the world," she wailed. "Emil, silently rocking in his chair, the stench in the house, and the screaming bird. I wanted to shut it all out," she admitted, "but I couldn't."