Burned (34 page)

Ingvild digs the spade into the ground. But she stops shovelling more sand and grass around her husband. She clasps her mouth with her other hand.

‘And the flogging. There was nothing about flogging in the script, either. But the film would have ridiculed you and your family. And a woman isn’t allowed to mock, either. The punishment for that is flogging –’

‘Stop,’ she shouts. It is deadly silent inside the tent. ‘Please stop. I can’t take any more. Please stop.’

The spade keels over and falls to the ground. Ingvild buries her face in her hands. Henning moves further inside the tent, without her noticing. Yngve’s green shirt is soaked with sweat. Ingvild collapses. Henning does nothing, he just watches her cry into her hands. She sits like this for a while, then she dries her tears and looks up at him.

‘You said you reported on my court case,’ she starts in a rusty voice. She clears her throat, she sees him nod.

‘So you know that the bastard raped me and cut me afterwards. I took a course in self-defence, learned all sorts of things, but I never felt safe. Wherever I went, I saw his shadow, felt the knife against my throat, the tip of the knife touching my stomach, touching my –’

She heaves a sigh.

‘Yngve was understanding. Gave me time, never pressured me. But he got tired of waiting. Waiting for –’

She closes her eyes and starts to cry again. Henning steps further into the tent. The roof is a couple of metres above his head. It is a large tent, probably big enough for twenty people.

She opens her eyes again. They watch each other for a while, but Henning has an inkling that he is the only one actually seeing. Ingvild’s eyes change from being remote to flashing when she registers colour or movement. Then she disappears into a world of her own again, or some other place where she has no contact with anybody.

‘I got myself one of these,’ she says and takes a mobile out of her pocket. It looks like an ordinary Nokia phone.

‘You can’t get these in Norway.’

She waves the mobile in the air.

‘It’s a combined mobile telephone and stun gun. Yes, such things are actually made. I got this in the US for less than $200. And everyone has a mobile these days, don’t they? People are always fiddling with them. Ringing, texting, talking rubbish. This never leaves my hand, but no one ever asks why. And if anyone tries to attack me again, I’m ready. 800,000 volts, straight into the body, Zzzzzt. It’ll knock you out, I promise.’

He looks at Yngve, though he needs no convincing.

‘And Stefan knew that you had one? It was your stun gun he used, wasn’t it?’

She nods reluctantly.

‘Did he ask if he could borrow it?’

‘No. He took it one evening – I mean – that night. I had already gone to bed. I realised that he had used it the following day, because the mobile wasn’t where I had left it. I’m always meticulous about such things. I notice
everything
.’

‘Did you confront him about it?’

‘Not there and then. I woke up late and he had already left for college. But it came up yesterday afternoon, and – and –’

She starts to cry again, but she carries on talking.

‘I asked him what he had done with my mobile, why he had borrowed it, but he wouldn’t say. Then Yngve took over and it got –’

She shakes her head.

‘Everything Stefan had been keeping back came out. He wanted Yngve to own up to what he had done, be honest with himself and us. Stefan almost went berserk, he wanted to fight Yngve and, in the heat of the moment, Stefan told us what he had done, why he had taken my mobile and it became –’

More shaking of the head.

‘It was so ugly. So –’

She looks at her husband, whose head is still flopped to one side.

‘It was bad. So very bad –’

She closes her eyes.

‘What happened after Stefan confessed to the murder? Because he was alone when he died.’

Ingvild sighs deeply.

‘I don’t really remember. I think I ran out of the flat. I’ve a vague memory of Yngve shaking me, at the top of St Hanshaugen. He said he had been looking for me for hours. I think I must have walked up there. Or run, I don’t know. I don’t remember. And when we came back, then –’

She starts to cry again, silently. He sees her tremble, holding one hand over her mouth. Then her eyes cloud over. She looks straight ahead, into the wall of the tent. Then, abruptly, she regains lucidity.

‘How did you know that we were here?’

‘I spoke to someone at the college reception this morning.’

‘Gorm?’

‘Might have been.’

‘How did –?’

He holds up his hands.

‘He said that Yngve had rung to let the Principal know that you were going camping. The Principal wasn’t there, so he took a message. I added two and two together and got 400. It was a fluke that I found you. I had a feeling that everything had something to do with this tent, this hole,’ he says, pointing to the ground. ‘And if everyone was looking for you, but hadn’t been able to find you, I guessed that you might be here. Since you were going “camping”, like Yngve had said.’

Ingvild looks at him for a long time, before she nods.

‘I barely remember what happened yesterday. I had run out of pills, too, I guess they were the ones Stefan took, so I couldn’t get to sleep, either. I doubt I would have slept anyway.’

Her eyes are red.

‘Why did you come here?’

‘So I could get my revenge. In my own way.’

‘How did you persuade Yngve to come with you?’

‘I told him I needed to be here, in the tent, to see if I could even begin to understand what my son had done. It wasn’t just an excuse. I really
needed
to. Does that sound strange to you?’

He shakes his head.

‘Now that I’m here, it feels a little weird. But I know how Stefan felt. I recognise the hatred. And, as his mother, that’s a relationship that I’m grateful for.’

He is about to say something, but her face fills with contempt and anger. Before he has time to react, before he has time to grab her, she has picked up one of the rocks and thrown it at Yngve. She hits his shoulder, he jerks and wakes up; slowly his eyes open, he lifts his head slightly, but he is too deep in the hole to be able to move much. Finally, he sees Ingvild, then Henning, and understands what is about to happen. He tries to raise his arms in self-defence, but they are trapped in the ground. Ingvild picks up another rock.

‘Wait. Ingvild, don’t –’

Yngve screams, Henning takes a long step towards Ingvild to stop her, but she sees him, her eyes widen and she holds the mobile in front of her, waving it at him, pressing it; sparks fly, and he stops and retreats.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’ Yngve howls.

‘You
killed that
whore
,’ Ingvild hisses. ‘Yes, you, Yngve. If only you had stayed away from her, none of this would have happened. You killed Stefan too, you drove him to take his own life –’

‘Ingvild, it –’

‘Oh, stop whining. It’s only fair that you get a taste of your own medicine, the same rocks, and that it happens here, in the same place, so you can die in the same way as your mistress, that
whore
–’

‘It wasn’t –’

‘Oh, shut up.’

Ingvild has picked up another rock, she is foaming at the mouth and her eyes shine with hatred. Henning doesn’t know how to stop her; she waves her mobile maniacally, pointing it at him. Should I call for help, he thinks? No use, they won’t get here in time. The rocks are so heavy that a single, well-aimed throw could be the end of Yngve. Henning tries to think of something clever to say, but he can’t find the words, he finds nothing, so he shuffles his feet on the damp grass. Then he sees Ingvild raise the rock above her head and aim.

‘It’s because you fucked her, you bastard. I know I haven’t been a wife to you for a long time, I have been a zombie ever since I was raped, but you should have helped me, you should have helped me, you shit, you shouldn’t have raped my soul, and worst of all, worst of all, you shouldn’t have driven our son insane. I know, I know how he felt when he stood here, like me, holding the stone over his head, when he aimed it at that whore who ruined everything.’

‘But I never slept with Henriette.’ Yngve yelps and squeezes his eyes shut. Henning raises his arms in an impotent effort to defend himself against her, even though she is standing several metres away from him and he, too, shuts his eyes, and waits for the thud and the scream.

It never comes.

He opens his eyes again. Ingvild is still holding the stone above her head. She is gasping for air.

‘I swear I never slept with Henriette.’

Yngve’s voice is pitiful, on the brink of tears. Then Henning hears movement behind him.

‘No. But you did sleep with
me
.’

Henning spins around. And, for the second time in less than an hour, he is looking straight into the eyes of Anette Skoppum.

Chapter 65

If there is a God, then he has just pressed the pause button. Henning’s jaw drops. Anette enters and looks at them all in turn.

‘Sorry, Juul,’ she says. ‘My curiosity got the better of me.’

He looks at her without blinking.

‘W-who are you?’ Ingvild says.

‘I’m the woman your husband had sex with.’

She says it straight out, no embarrassment, no anger, presents it as a purely factual matter. And Henning knows he isn’t the only one who is dumbstruck.

‘But –’ Ingvild’s voice is devoid of strength.

‘I can see why Stefan thought it was Henriette. I mean, look at me, I’m not a patch on her. Her script, too, made it obvious, I would have thought.’

Anette looks at Yngve. He stares at the ground, shamefaced. A tear rolls down his cheek. His hair, what little he has, is bathed in sweat.

‘And Henriette was a huge flirt, everyone knew that. She could charm the birds off the trees, if she put her mind to it.’

They all look at Yngve, who sighs and shakes his head.

‘It wasn’t very easy, for any of us, in the time after … after what happened to Ingvild. It hadn’t been that good before, and afterwards, well, it was completely impossible to live together as man and wife. Every time I came near you, you would move away, you almost shuddered when I, your husband, came near you.’

Yngve looks at her.

‘Physical contact was an unknown concept. And then I met Henriette …’

He shakes his head again.

‘She was beautiful, full of life, clever, and yes, she flirted and I won’t deny that she stirred feelings in me, which I thought were long dead. But I didn’t want to destroy the trust between us. After all, I was her tutor, her supervisor, and I couldn’t –’

Foldvik looks at them in turn. His eyes stop at Anette. Henning can see that Foldvik is consumed by remorse.

Anette takes another step inside. She, too, is soaked to the skin. Henning wonders what made her come back. He can understand her being curious, but why drop such a bombshell?

Of course. To put things into perspective. If Ingvild had killed her husband for having had an affair with Henriette, the truth – when it came out later – would have destroyed Ingvild completely. How can you live with the knowledge that your own son killed the wrong woman and you killed your husband because he recklessly drove your son mad?

Ingvild looks like she has a puncture. Her shoulders sag, her back is hunched, her eyes are swollen. Henning looks at Anette. She is much smarter than he had assumed.

‘I’m sorry, Ingvild,’ Anette continues. ‘I never meant for this to happen. It just did. I had been working on an idea for a long time, I had written quite a good storyline, too, which I wanted Yngve to take a look at. I knew that he had helped Henriette secure an option with Spot the Difference Productions, and thought he might be able to help me as well. Alcohol was involved, I won’t deny it, but we chatted in his office, and –’

‘Anette, don’t –’

Yngve closes his eyes. Anette holds up her hands.

‘No, I won’t go on. I just want to apologise. For the harm I’ve caused you. If I had known what it would lead to, then –’

She is about to complete the sentence, but breaks off. She, too, is crying now. She steps towards Ingvild, bends down and places her hand on her back. At that moment, Ingvild’s arm shoots out. Henning doesn’t see it until it is too late, but Ingvild has got her mobile out and presses it against Anette’s neck. Zzzzzzt. She gives Anette a shock which floors her. Henning is about to jump on Ingvild to prevent her from releasing more hatred, from taking it out on Anette, who lies unconscious on the grass, face down. But Ingvild holds out her hands as she gets up. She says nothing, she just looks straight ahead with that faraway expression and lets the mobile drop. It lands right next to Anette.

‘You can call the police now,’ Ingvild says to him, quietly. The look in her eyes is dull, vacant. Henning stares at her for a long time before he takes his mobile out of his wet jacket pocket, wipes the display and sees that he has a signal.

Then he calls Bjarne Brogeland.

Chapter 66

Brogeland arrives quickly with a team of police officers. Henning recognises Ella Sandland. He half expects to see the towering figure of Chief Inspector Gjerstad appear and scratch his moustache, but he isn’t there. Nor is Assistant Commissioner Nøkleby.

The police start processing the tent and its contents. Sandland takes Ingvild away. Other officers start to dig out Yngve Foldvik. Two ambulance men attend to Anette. Brogeland comes over to him with his eyebrows raised.

‘You’ve got good instincts, Juul, I’ll grant you that,’ he says, placing a hand on Henning’s shoulder. Henning isn’t used to being complimented, nor does he like praise, but he mutters a thank you. He becomes aware that his clothes are sticking to his body and loosens his shirt and trousers a little.

‘Now don’t you go running off again,’ Brogeland smiles. ‘We need to go through this properly, and we’re not doing it by phone this time.’

‘I’ll be outside,’ Henning says.

It has stopped raining when he goes outside and into the fresh air. The wind is chilly. He hadn’t realised that his cheeks were warm, but the icy breeze feels pleasant against his damp, burning hot face. I’m going to get a cold, he thinks. He is soaked to the skin. So what? It’s not like it matters.