The Body in the Fjord Read Online Free PDF

place. She firmly shut the door, announcing, “You have to get the two-fifty-five train to Voss to meet the tour, and we have a lot to talk about. You will need to take a little rest, too, Ursula?”
    Her friend shook her head. “I’m not at all tired, and besides, it’s a long train ride and I can rest then. Why don’t you tell us everything that’s happened since we spoke? Has there been any more news?”
    Marit led the way into the living room. The apartment wasn’t large, but it felt spacious because of the plate-glass windows overlooking the Oslofjord. The walls were painted a deep blue-green. The trim was white. Artwork of all sorts hung from floor to ceiling. There was a big stone fireplace and the floors were wood. A handwoven striped rag defined the dining area as separate from the living room. Where there weren’t pictures, there were bookcases crammed with books in several languages. Ursula and Marit sat on the couch, Marit motioning for Pix to sit opposite them in a comfortable-looking leather armchair. The inevitable coffee table, staple of Scandinavian home furnishing, did indeed hold coffee cups and plates.
    â€œI know they feed you all the time on those flights, but you should have a little something. We can eat while we talk.”
    Pix jumped up to help Marit, who insisted she stay put, returning almost immediately with the coffee and a platter of open-faced sandwiches, smørbrød . Despite the gravity of the situation, Pix felt a twinge of pleasure when she saw her favorite, the bread hidden by rows of reker, nestled on mayonnaise, a bit of lettuce, a curl of paper-thin lemon on top. Reker were tiny, succulent shrimp, only available this far north. Next to these open-facers, she liked reker best straight from the boats wherethey had been caught and cooked. One could buy them by the bag here in Oslo on the wharf in front of city hall and in the fish market in Bergen. It was the essence of being in Norway, strolling along a waterfront, eating fresh shrimp. But she doubted there would be any time for this in the days to come.
    â€œThe police call constantly. They keep asking if Kari has gotten in touch with me. I think they are watching the house, too, because they think I might try to hide her.”
    Ursula came straight to the point. “But why? How could they possibly believe she is responsible for Erik’s death? Surely it was an accident!”
    Marit shrugged. Her face now looked tired and the color faded. “Probably they don’t know what to believe, and the newspapers, television, and radio are full of the story from morning to night. Nothing better to do with their time.” Marit was disgusted. She paused. “They have dredged up the whole business with Hanna and it worries me that Kari, wherever she is, might be seeing it.” Marit had made it absolutely clear to them as they ate that in her mind Kari was alive.
    â€œOh no, that’s disgraceful!” Pix was indignant. Hanna had been only a few years older than she was. There had been one golden summer when Ursula brought both her children to Norway and they joined the Larsens, their various cousins, and their friends on an island in the middle of the Hardangerfjord. The children all slept in one big room, the attic of an old farmhouse. They were outdoors from dawn to dusk. Pix had worshiped Hanna. Hanna swam like a fish, could climb any tree, and her arrows always hit the target. She told the younger children wonderfully scary tales of the trolls who inhabited the woodlands and came alive at night, pointing out their faces turned to stone by the sun’s first rays in the mountains surrounding the fjord. Yet there was a dark side to Hanna, the night side of the trolls. She was moody and no one was ever sure what would cause her temper to flare. That summer was the first summer her parents became the samekind of targets she trained her bow and arrow on. Again, she seldom