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Ingrid wanting him for something. He hoped it wasn't bad news.
    It was Mrs. Album.
    "Is everything all right with Ragnhild?" he asked.
    "Yes, she's fine. Perfectly fine. But she told me something very odd when we were finally alone. I had to call you, I thought it sounded so peculiar, and she doesn't usually make things up. So to be on the safe side I thought I'd better let you know. In any case, I will have told someone."
    "What is it?"
    "This man she was with, he showed her the way home. His name is Raymond, by the way; she remembered it afterward. They drove up the far side of Kollen and past Serpent Tarn, and there they stopped for a while."
    "Yes?"
    "Ragnhild says there's a woman lying up there."
    He blinked in surprise. "What did you say?"
    "That there's a woman lying up at the lake. Quite still and with no clothes on." Her voice was anxious and embarrassed at the same time.
    "Do you believe her?"
    "Yes, I do. Would a child think up something like that? But I don't dare go up there alone, and I don't want to take her with me."
    "I'll have it looked into. Don't mention this to anyone. We'll be in touch."
    He hung up, and in his mind he closed up his cabin. The scent of sea spray and fresh-caught cod sprats vanished abruptly. He smiled at Holthemann.
    "You know, there's something I have to take care of first."
    ***
    Karlsen was out on patrol in the only squad car they could spare that day, and it had to cover the entire city center. So he took Skarre with him instead, a young curly-haired officer about half his age. Skarre was a cheerful little man, mild-mannered and optimistic, with traces of the rhythmic Southland dialect in his speech. They parked again by the mailbox in Granittveien and had a brief talk with Irene Album. Ragnhild clung like a burr to her mother's dress. A number of admonitions had undoubtedly been impressed on the towheaded child. Her mother pointed and explained, saying they had to follow a signposted path from the edge of the woods facing the house, uphill to the left past Kollen. For active men like them it would probably take twenty minutes, she said.

    The tree trunks were marked with blue arrows, indicating the way. They eyed the sheep shit balefully, stepping out into the heather now and again, but persevered upward. The path grew steeper and steeper. Skarre was panting a little, while Sejer walked easily. He stopped once, turning to stare down toward the housing development. They could see only the roofs, brownish-pink and black in the distance. Then they set off again, no longer talking, partly because they needed their breath for the climb, partly because of what they were afraid of finding. The forest was so thick that they were walking in semidarkness. Instinctively, Sejer kept his eyes on the path, not because he was afraid of tripping, but if something had indeed happened up here, it was crucial to take note of everything. They had been walking for exactly seventeen minutes when the forest opened up and the sunlight shone through. Now they could see the water. A mirror-like tarn, no bigger than a large pond, lying among the spruce trees like a secret space. For a moment they scanned the terrain, following the yellow line of the reeds with their gaze, and caught sight of something that looked like a beach a little farther along. They set out toward it
at a good distance from the water, since the belt of rushes was fairly wide and they had only their street shoes.

    It could hardly be called a beach; it was more like a muddy patch with four or five large stones, just enough to keep the reeds out, and probably the only place that allowed access to the water. A woman lay in the mud and dirt. She was on her side with her back to them, a dark anorak covering her upper body. Otherwise she was naked. Blue and white clothes lay in a heap next to her. Sejer stopped short and automatically reached for the mobile phone on his belt. Then he changed his mind and approached carefully, hearing the