Don't Look Back Read Online Free PDF

gurgling in his shoes.
    "Don't move," he said in a low voice.
    Skarre obeyed. Sejer was at the water's edge. He balanced himself on a rock a little way out in the tarn so he could see the woman from the front. He didn't want to touch anything, not yet. Her eyes had sunk in a little. They were half-open and fixed on a point out in the lake. The eye membrane was dull and wrinkled. Her pupils were large and no longer quite round. Her mouth stood open; above it and extending up over her nose was a yellowish bit of foam, as if she had vomited. He bent down and blew on it; it didn't move. Her face was only a few inches from the water. He placed two fingers over her carotid artery. The skin had lost all elasticity, and felt as cold as he had expected.
    "Gone," he said.
    On her earlobes and on the side of her neck he saw some faint reddish-purple marks. The skin on her legs was goose-bumped but undamaged. He went back the same way. Skarre stood waiting with his hands in his pockets, looking a little puzzled. He was terrified of making a mistake.
    "Totally naked under her jacket. No visible external injuries. I should say about eighteen to twenty years old."
    Then he telephoned Headquarters and requested an ambulance, forensics, photographer, and technicians, then explained the route that went up from the back side of Kollen and was accessible by car. He asked them to park some way off so as not to disturb any tire tracks. When he'd finished, he looked around for something to sit on, choosing the flattest stone. Skarre sank down next to him. They stared silently at her white legs and blond hair, which was straight and shoulder-length. She lay almost in a fetal position. Her arms were folded over her breasts, her knees drawn up. The windbreaker lay loosely over her torso and reached to mid-thigh. It was clean and dry. The rest of her clothes were piled in a heap behind her and were wet and dirty: a pair of dungarees with belt, a blue-and-white-checked blouse, brassiere, dark blue high-school sweater, Reeboks.

    "What's that above her mouth?" muttered Skarre.
    "Foam."
    "But ... foam? What would that come from?"
    "I suspect we'll find out soon enough." Sejer shook his head. "Looks like she lay down to go to sleep. With her back to the world."
    "People don't undress to commit suicide, do they?"
    Sejer didn't reply. He looked at her again, at the white body by the black water, surrounded by dark spruce trees. The scene had nothing of violence in it; in fact, it looked peaceful. They settled down to wait.

    Six men came tramping out of the woods. Their voices died out except for a few faint coughs when they caught sight of the men by the water. A second later they saw the dead woman. Sejer stood up and gestured.
    "Stay on that side!" he called.
    They did as he ordered. They all recognized his gray shock of hair. One of them measured the terrain with a practiced eye,
trod a bit on the ground, which was relatively solid where he stood, and muttered something about a lack of rain. The photographer went first. He didn't spend much time by the body, but instead looked at the sky, as if he wanted to check the light conditions.

    "Take pictures from both sides," Sejer said, "and get the vegetation in the shot. I'm afraid you'll have to go out in the water after that, because I need pictures from the front without moving her. When you've used up half the roll, we'll take off her jacket."
    "Mountain lakes like this are usually bottomless," the photographer said skeptically.
    "You can swim, can't you?"
    There was a pause.
    "There's a rowboat over there." Sejer pointed. "We can use that."
    "A dinghy? It looks rotten."
    "We'll soon know," Sejer said, brusquely.
    While the photographer was working, the others stood still and waited. One of the technicians was already working farther up the shore, searching the area, which proved to be quite free of litter. This was an idyllic spot, and in such places there were usually bottle caps, used condoms,