good,’ he admitted. ‘Not yet. But sooner or later, criminals make mistakes, especially when they’ve been at it for a while. They usually get careless.’
‘But the case with the baby, that was just a prank,’ said a little black child. ‘Does he have to go to jail for that?’
‘It’s not a prank,’ Sejer corrected. ‘Let me tell you something.’ He looked hard at each of them. ‘It’s a form of theft. The parents’ security has been stolen from them, and that’s very serious. Without security, life is terribly difficult.’
The boys thought carefully about what he’d said. When he left, they followed him to the car, flocking around him and waving.
‘Keep to the straight and narrow, boys,’ Sejer ordered and drove away.
Chapter 10
One night, a few weeks after the attack against Margrete, Karsten Sundelin woke at three thirty in the morning. He lay in bed listening. A dark blue curtain kept the light out, but instantly he could tell that Lily wasn’t beside him. He switched on the bedside lamp. Margrete’s cot, which they’d brought into the bedroom, was also empty. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. He knew that Lily was having difficulty sleeping. When he thought about everything that had happened, and about how much they’d lost, he clenched his hands into fists. Something had entered the house, something unfamiliar. At times he could sense it like a tension between them, almost as if someone else were listening to them and meddling in their lives – but without words, just something shadow-like and vague. He crawled from the bed and went to the lounge, where he found them on the sofa. Lily sat with Margrete in her lap. At first he thought she was asleep, but then she sensed him and opened her eyes. He sat heavily in an armchair. Lily hadn’t turned on any lights. There was only a thin, grey glow in the room. Margrete was asleep. For a long time he observed them on the sofa. Some sort of fear had been planted in Lily, he knew, and it had grown and stolen her peace of mind. Everything they once had taken for granted. He gripped the armrests of the chair.
‘We can’t live like this,’ he said.
He heard a heavy sigh from the sofa. Margrete moved a hand, but otherwise slept peacefully.
‘Well, how should we live?’ Lily said wearily. She rocked Margrete softly on her lap.
‘Like we did before.’
‘We can’t do that. You must realise that.’
He held back a protest. He switched on the steel lamp beside his chair.
Lily had pulled on a dressing gown, and draped a blanket across her knees. Right now you can protect Margrete, he thought, but you can’t sit like this for ever. We’ve got to sleep. We’ve got to work. Margrete will grow up. He didn’t say any of this out loud, but instead rose and walked into the kitchen, calling out that he was making tea and would she like a cup?
‘No, I don’t want anything.’
She sounded like a bitter old woman. Karsten leaned against the worktop. He made a fist, and cursed under his breath. Then he filled the kettle.
While he waited for the water to boil, he went back to the lounge. He wanted to say something encouraging, something to make her feel better.
‘Sooner or later they’ll get him,’ he said. ‘And justice will be served. Everything will be back to normal. Don’t you think?’
Her response was to give him a hurt look which instantly turned to one of reluctance, as if the corner she’d located, on the sofa, with a blanket over her knees and Margrete on her lap, was a place she would never again leave. There was something unsettling about it all. She was somewhere he couldn’t reach any more. It didn’t matter what he said or did, because there was no longer any energy between them, she had pushed him away.
He heard the water boiling in the kitchen.
‘I mean,’ he said softly, ‘some lose their children for good. Have you thought about that?’
He knew he shouldn’t speak these words, but he couldn’t help himself.
‘But the case with the baby, that was just a prank,’ said a little black child. ‘Does he have to go to jail for that?’
‘It’s not a prank,’ Sejer corrected. ‘Let me tell you something.’ He looked hard at each of them. ‘It’s a form of theft. The parents’ security has been stolen from them, and that’s very serious. Without security, life is terribly difficult.’
The boys thought carefully about what he’d said. When he left, they followed him to the car, flocking around him and waving.
‘Keep to the straight and narrow, boys,’ Sejer ordered and drove away.
Chapter 10
One night, a few weeks after the attack against Margrete, Karsten Sundelin woke at three thirty in the morning. He lay in bed listening. A dark blue curtain kept the light out, but instantly he could tell that Lily wasn’t beside him. He switched on the bedside lamp. Margrete’s cot, which they’d brought into the bedroom, was also empty. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. He knew that Lily was having difficulty sleeping. When he thought about everything that had happened, and about how much they’d lost, he clenched his hands into fists. Something had entered the house, something unfamiliar. At times he could sense it like a tension between them, almost as if someone else were listening to them and meddling in their lives – but without words, just something shadow-like and vague. He crawled from the bed and went to the lounge, where he found them on the sofa. Lily sat with Margrete in her lap. At first he thought she was asleep, but then she sensed him and opened her eyes. He sat heavily in an armchair. Lily hadn’t turned on any lights. There was only a thin, grey glow in the room. Margrete was asleep. For a long time he observed them on the sofa. Some sort of fear had been planted in Lily, he knew, and it had grown and stolen her peace of mind. Everything they once had taken for granted. He gripped the armrests of the chair.
‘We can’t live like this,’ he said.
He heard a heavy sigh from the sofa. Margrete moved a hand, but otherwise slept peacefully.
‘Well, how should we live?’ Lily said wearily. She rocked Margrete softly on her lap.
‘Like we did before.’
‘We can’t do that. You must realise that.’
He held back a protest. He switched on the steel lamp beside his chair.
Lily had pulled on a dressing gown, and draped a blanket across her knees. Right now you can protect Margrete, he thought, but you can’t sit like this for ever. We’ve got to sleep. We’ve got to work. Margrete will grow up. He didn’t say any of this out loud, but instead rose and walked into the kitchen, calling out that he was making tea and would she like a cup?
‘No, I don’t want anything.’
She sounded like a bitter old woman. Karsten leaned against the worktop. He made a fist, and cursed under his breath. Then he filled the kettle.
While he waited for the water to boil, he went back to the lounge. He wanted to say something encouraging, something to make her feel better.
‘Sooner or later they’ll get him,’ he said. ‘And justice will be served. Everything will be back to normal. Don’t you think?’
Her response was to give him a hurt look which instantly turned to one of reluctance, as if the corner she’d located, on the sofa, with a blanket over her knees and Margrete on her lap, was a place she would never again leave. There was something unsettling about it all. She was somewhere he couldn’t reach any more. It didn’t matter what he said or did, because there was no longer any energy between them, she had pushed him away.
He heard the water boiling in the kitchen.
‘I mean,’ he said softly, ‘some lose their children for good. Have you thought about that?’
He knew he shouldn’t speak these words, but he couldn’t help himself.
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