By Karin Fossum
Ida Joner will get on her brand-new motorbike and units off towards city. A good-natured, satisfied woman, she is asking ahead to her 10th birthday. Thirty-five mins after Ida must have come domestic, her mom starts off to fret. She telephones shop proprietors, Ida’s pals, somebody who may have noticeable her. yet not anyone has.Suspicion instantly falls on Emil Mork, a neighborhood personality who lives by myself and hasn’t spoken due to the fact that early life. His mom insists on cleansing his condo weekly—although she’s occasionally petrified of what she may locate there. A mother’s worst nightmare in both case: to lose a baby or to imagine a baby able to homicide. As Ida’s kin succeed in the verge of collapse and the media frenzy surrounding the case starts, Inspector Konrad Sejer is his ordinary calm and reassuring self. yet he’s questioned. And disturbed. this can be the strangest case he’s noticeable in years.
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Drove back to her house in Madseberget as fast as she could. Thoughts raced through her mind. The rain was fierce; the wipers swept angrily across the windshield. Her own cowardice made her feel wretched. When Anders had appeared on the doorstep and she felt she could go home, her sense of relief had been overwhelming. The whole evening she had been consumed by a terrifying, overpowering horror. But she had not allowed herself to give in to it. She had to be stronger than Helga. Now that Anders was keeping her sister company, her feelings surfaced once more and they took her breath away.
Left him and went outside. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision. She opened the door to the double garage. She was surprised to see that her son had covered the Opel with a tarpaulin. He never did that. I suppose he can't bear to look at it, she thought. She turned on the garage light. Lifted up the tarpaulin. On the right-hand side she found what she was looking for. A dent, a broken front light, and some damage to the paintwork. It was scarred by long gray and white scratches. She shook her head and replaced the tarpaulin.
No, no. I'm not. Often the explanation is much more straightforward than we'd like to believe. " Skarre stared despondently out of the window. "I hate the rain," he said. *** The shrill sound of the doorbell cut through the house without warning. Helga stared wildly at her sister; her eyes had a metallic sheen of terror. It was very late. An insane mixture of fear and hope surged through her body. " Ruth said, rushing out. She trembled as she pushed the door handle down. Outside, standing on the doorstep, was Ida's father.