Only One Life: A Novel Part 11

"Even though Holbaek isn't that big, there are crazy people here too. We've had a number of rapes," the man began.

"Well, Samra wasn't raped," Louise interrupted sharply. "She was murdered, callously and coldheartedly. She was asphyxiated and had a concrete slab tied to her abdomen."

"Yeah, well, you don't know it was the family," he said once more.

Louise sighed and conceded that he was right. No, they didn't know. "But I can tell you that two of my colleagues have been looking for witnesses since she was found and no one saw her leave her parents' home," she said, thinking about all the interviews Bengtsen and Velin had done in Dysseparken and the neighborhood around the large residential area where the family's apartment was located.

"But that also means no one saw her father drive off with her," he pointed out, and again Louise had to concede. Samra could easily have left home without having been noticed.

"You're just starting out with the a.s.sumption that the family is guilty-"

The door opened and he stopped talking.

Louise got up and walked over to put her mug in the sink. "We're not a.s.suming anyone is guilty," she said, standing right across from him. "We're following the leads we have as we continue to investigate the case."

She was starting to get irritated and turned around to greet the girls Jette Petersen was just leading into the teachers' lounge.

"We can go down to the cla.s.sroom, which is at the end of the hall," Jette said after they'd greeted each other. There were three girls in addition to Dicta Moller.

"Great," Louise said, leading the way out the door without saying good-bye to Jette's colleague.

Two of the girls, Fatima and Asma, were from immigrant backgrounds. Liv was Danish. Louise pulled a couple of tables together so they could sit across from each other. Jette Petersen sat down a little ways in the background as an observer.

"I'd really like to get a better sense of who Samra was," Louise began, looking at the girls. "As far as I've understood, you were the ones who were closest to her."

She was prepared for the crying and gave them plenty of time as it rapidly set in. The memorial service in the gym must have been tough on them.

"She's my cousin," said Asma, the thinnest of the girls, whose pretty, slender face was framed by a headscarf that was so tight-fitting that Louise couldn't see a single strand of hair.

Louise sat for a moment, watching her, because it would have been hard to find someone sending more mixed signals than this girl. Of the four, Asma was the most provocatively dressed, so the demure head covering seemed completely out of place in combination with her plunging neckline and tight skirt. Louise's eyes moved on to Fatima, who was a little stockier and seemed more relaxed about her appearance. She was wearing a pair of baggy pants and a stylish pink T-s.h.i.+rt and had a lot of curly black hair surrounding her face in a rather unruly hairdo.

Louise got back down to business and explained that she had already spoken with Dicta and that what she hoped to get out of today's conversation was an impression of who Samra had hung out with. Who had known her, and what kind of person had she been?

She looked first at Fatima, who had been in Samra's cla.s.s.

"Our families know each other. We moved to Holbaek because my father grew up with Samra's father back home in Rabba. So I played with her a lot during the years we've lived here."

Louise was particularly struck by the girl's use of the word "played." That wasn't a word Dicta would have used about the time she spent with Samra.

"When was the last time you saw her?" Louise asked. She had thought about whether or not she ought to meet with the girls individually, but had decided that having them all here together might help them loosen up.

"We saw each other last weekend," Fatima said and nodded at Asma, adding that Asma had been there with her family too.

Asma explained that her mother was Sada's sister. Asma was in the same grade, but had a different homeroom.

"How do you guys think Samra was doing?"

"She was doing well," Fatima answered without hesitation, but then she gave Asma a questioning look. Asma, however, was lost in her own thoughts and didn't respond to Fatima.

"Do you also think Samra seemed to be doing well when you were together last weekend?" Louise asked the girl's cousin, when she didn't respond.

The cousin hurriedly nodded, and Louise felt herself starting to get a little exasperated. "You know, I'd heard that she seemed like she was under a little pressure lately, but you guys hadn't noticed that?" Louise prompted.

Fatima shook her head, but Asma looked Louise in the eye and said that there were times when Samra wasn't that happy.

"Had she been like that lately?" Louise asked.

Asma shrugged. There was something vulnerable about her, evoked by her provocative sense of style and her covered hair. She didn't look at all cheap in her tight-fitting clothes, it was more like she radiated a strong sense of feminine elegance, one that she was just way too young to carry off and that wasn't fully realized because she was hiding one of the most feminine of bodily adornments: her hair.

"Did Samra say anything to you? She must have needed someone to talk to?" Instead of waiting for an answer, Louise asked the girls whom they talked to when they were sad. "Each other," all four of them replied.

Dicta added that she also talked to her parents, and there was nodding all around the table. The others obviously did too, when all was said and done.

The silence in the cla.s.sroom was oppressive until Louise asked if anyone thought the family might have been planning a wedding for Samra and that maybe that was what had been making her feel pressured.

Suddenly everyone was talking over each other.

"They wouldn't do that," Fatima exclaimed loudly and was interrupted by Liv, who exclaimed, "Well, they could just forget about that!"

"My aunt and uncle aren't like that," Asma said, once everyone had calmed down. "They're not into that kind of thing."

"But that's what you Danes always think about us, isn't it?" Fatima mumbled angrily.

"Samra would never have put up with that. She was way too independent to accept a decision like that," Liv interjected, and the other girls agreed.

Louise studied Liv for a moment. Liv was hardly the first person Louise would have picked as one of Samra's closest friends. Her leather jacket was worn, and the red T-s.h.i.+rt with the black dots she wore underneath it was faded. Louise couldn't figure out whether the girl's hair was standing up in stiff tufts because it was beyond greasy or if she'd painstakingly achieved this look with multiple hair products. It was hard to tell what color the girl's eyes were behind all that thick black eyeliner.

"Well, good, we'll forget about that then," Louise said. "Do you think Samra would have sneaked out of the house at night without telling her parents?" she asked instead.

Both Dicta and Liv nodded, while Asma and Fatima took a little longer to contemplate the idea before they also acknowledged that she might well have done that. "Samra's parents usually went to bed around ten, because her father had to get up early," one of the girls added.

"Who would she have gone to visit if it wasn't one of you guys?"

This time there was no rapid outburst of answers.

"She was very cautious," Liv said, pulling her leather jacket tighter around her, as if she were a little uncomfortable talking and having the others' full attention. "If they found out, her father would have been furious and then she would have been grounded for several months."

Dicta agreed with Liv and said that Samra had been grounded a few times in the past.

"You can't just f.u.c.king do that! I dare my parents to even try such a thing," Liv said, her tone indignant. And Louise could easily imagine that they wouldn't easily get away with that.

"Her parents hadn't seen her since her mother said good night to her Tuesday evening. They thought she'd gone to school the next morning. But by the time the alarm clock rang at eight Wednesday morning, Samra was already lying out in Udby Bay."

Louise knew it would be hard on them to hear her say it so matter-of-factly, but she felt she needed to shake them up a little. They weren't giving her anything, and she had to get them talking if she was going to have any chance of making headway.

"Did she show up at any of your homes on Tuesday night?" Louise asked, and she was prepared when all four of them shook their heads. "Did any of you go out gallivanting with her and you're not mentioning it now because your parents can't find out?"

Her voice had become sharp, and she noted the look the teacher shot at her, but she didn't stop. She carefully studied the young girls to determine what was going on behind their expressionless faces, but none of them seemed to be trying to cover up a lie.

"She must have disappeared in the evening or at night," Dicta said softly, when the silence became unbearable.

Louise had the sense that a wall was being erected between the group of girlfriends, and it wasn't hard for her to figure out what they were divided over. Accusers on one side and defenders on the other. Against the family and for the family. She was also afraid to put any words in their mouths, but they were dealing with facts here and she had to confront them with those. If anyone could come up with an alternative chain of events, they were more than welcome to do so.

"I already asked Dicta. But now I'm asking the rest of you if you know whether she had a boyfriend or a friend whom she saw in secret."

Louise was ready for loud protests from Fatima and Asma and looked at them in surprise when they just shrugged and said there wasn't anyone they were aware of. Dicta repeated that there hadn't been anyone.

"You wouldn't know s.h.i.+t about it," Liv remarked caustically to Dicta. "The only thing anyone can talk to you about is your hair and your advertising jobs."

"Modeling jobs," Dicta corrected her.

"I just mean it's not like Samra would have wanted to tell you anything-if there was anything to tell-since you're always off in your own egocentric universe."

Louise considered interrupting, but before she had a chance, Dicta managed to do so herself.

"Give it a f.u.c.king break already," Dicta swore. "I don't think I spend any more time on my hair than you do, so just drop it."

Louise's eyebrows were halfway up her forehead. There was something out of place about a rant like that spewing out of Dicta's pretty young mouth, but it was effective. Louise had obviously misjudged her. And it surprised her just as much that Liv took it without any kind of comeback.

"Do you know something?" Louise asked, directing her question directly at Liv. She had made it sound like she did.

"I don't know what it was, but I think there was something," Liv replied cryptically.

"Well, how about a few more details, please!" Louise's tone was a little harsh, harsher than she'd intended, and again she noticed a look from the girls' teacher, who wished to protect her students.

Liv shook herself, as if she had promised more than she could deliver. The young black-haired rebel oscillated between feigned bluntness and paralyzing insecurity, which once again caused her to pull her leather jacket tighter around herself. But actually there was nothing flippant about her charm, Louise noted, studying Liv with interest as she began her response.

"I don't know anything about any boyfriend," Liv explained, "but it's very clear that there was something. Something had hurt her, she had been upset, something had been painful."

Dicta looked skeptical.

"Well, I certainly didn't notice that," Dicta said, looking over at Fatima and Asma. "Did you guys?"

"Maybe, but not the way you mean," Fatima told Liv. "I think she seemed happy, as if she had b.u.t.terflies in her stomach."

Louise looked at each of the girls in turn. This was almost worse than no information at all, she thought. Everyone was going off in a separate direction.

"At some point did she maybe confide something in one of you?" Louise asked, hoping that her last question was down-to-earth enough and suitably open and naive that maybe it would appeal to something in their teenage compulsion to confide in someone. But all four of them shook their heads.

Louise thanked them for their time and for the information they'd given her. She said good-bye to Jette Petersen and thanked her for her help as well. Then she left Hojmark School to drive back to the police station with the sense that she hadn't gotten very far.

15.

"IKNOW YOU USED TO CALL THE SCHOOL OFFICE AND ASK ABOUT your sister if she was even just ten minutes late coming home from school. And now you're claiming you don't know s.h.i.+t about what she liked to do?"

Louise heard the voice through the door, just as she was about to enter her office. She stopped, quickly realizing that her partner's plan of maintaining a more convivial tone hadn't gone so well. Louise considered going to the command room to wait until Mik was done questioning Samra's brother, but ended up standing there in the hallway for a bit while Hamid heatedly defended himself and claimed it was all a bunch of lies.

"You used to follow her on your moped when she walked home after visiting her friends. Am I making that up too, or shall we accept that as credible since Dicta Moller's parents say they saw you several times?"

Louise ducked out again before Hamid had a chance to answer. She knew Mik had the upper hand. Samra's cla.s.smates had already described several incidents to Louise confirming that Hamid had indeed followed his sister.

Louise went in to see Ruth and sat down with a cola in her hand. "How did it go when Mik questioned the parents?" she asked, hoping that he'd gotten a little more out of them than she had from her visit to the school.

Ruth leaned back in her chair and pressed her cherry-red lips together, placing her hands behind her head and pus.h.i.+ng her ample orange mop of hair upward to form a crown over her head. A look of annoyance slid over her face.

"To put it mildly," Ruth said, "this has not been a good day. Storm decided to leave us." Then she explained that the mood had been rather tense after the day's questioning sessions. The administrative a.s.sistant leaned forward slightly, letting her hair fall back into place.

"Ibrahim al-Abd has started waffling about what time he came back from the marina Tuesday night and when his brother went home. If Storm had had time to attend to his responsibilities here, maybe he could have forced through a detention order for the father, but the deputy police commissioner didn't think we had enough to hold him."

"Couldn't you just call Storm on his cell?" Louise asked.

Ruth irritably shook her head. "He's not picking up and hasn't responded to the messages I've left. Maybe giving his PowerPoint presentation down there will eventually earn him another star on his lapel further up the ladder somewhere, but he'd be doing a h.e.l.l of a lot more good right now if he were here."

Louise pictured the look on Samra's father's face when they'd told him about his daughter. "If we forget about statistical probabilities and everything we have to go by so far, I'd say I'm reasonably sure the father didn't know it was his daughter's body that had been found," Louise said. "It would be almost impossible to fake the appearance of despair and impotence he gave off."

The administrative a.s.sistant shrugged.

"They haven't given us a thing-either the mother or the father-that would give us the slightest reason to cross them off the list of suspects. One minute the father is yelling and screaming and making a big scene because the police suspect him of having something to do with his daughter's death, and the next he's refusing to say anything about the family's acquaintances and what Samra had been up to in recent weeks. He's completely shut down. The mother cried most of the time and didn't say anything that could lead us further. We let them go, and we'll have to see what Storm says whenever he finally gets back," Ruth said.

"Are you going to be in town this weekend?" Mik Rasmussen asked after he'd said good-bye to Hamid, who had given the policeman a very obstinate look and an almost invisible nod before quickly scurrying away.

Louise nodded. Before Storm left, he had made it clear that everyone was going to be staying in town over the weekend. Not that he was expecting all that much to happen, but he wanted to be able to call in his troops if there was a sudden breakthrough. It didn't bother Louise. She was in no hurry to go home to her empty apartment.

"I'm teaching a sea kayaking cla.s.s for beginners tomorrow," Mik said. "If you want to give it a try, stop by."

Louise stared at him blankly. "Sea kayaking?" she repeated.

Mik nodded and smiled at the look on her face. "We go out on the sound," he explained. "It's amazing. I think you'd actually really like it."

Louise started laughing. "And just what makes you think that? It sounds strenuous, cold, and wet. Definitely not something for me."

"You wear a wet suit, so you won't get cold when you're in the water," he countered. "Besides, you don't need to paddle all the way out to the Sjaellands Odde peninsula on your first trip."

"Isn't this a little late in the year to start kayaking?" she asked, trying to shoot down the idea, but her partner brushed that aside, explaining that as long as they were wearing wet suits, they could keep going until well into October.

She stood there for a moment, watching him as he gathered his papers into a neat pile. Then he shut down his computer and said he was heading home to do the next feeding.

"Feeding?" she asked. Now she was totally in the dark.

He explained that one of his hunting dogs, a black Lab, had had puppies who were three weeks old now and that the mother needed all the food she could eat so she could produce enough milk for them. Which is why he had to go home several times a day.