“I brought you here because I thought you needed to come. And you lied to me.”
“I know. What can I say? I’m sorry.”
“I understand it must have been hard on you,” Vidar said, his voice restrained. “But if you had told me the truth, that Isidor…”
“Don’t you think I know that?” She struggled to speak. There was an ache in her throat and behind her eyes. “That’s all I can think about.”
In that moment, the downpour stopped as suddenly as if a hatch had closed. Vidar and Siri looked at the sky in surprise.
“Weird,” Vidar said, turning back toward the house.
They saw Isidor Enoksson being led to the road by Adrian.
“He came to my house,” Siri said.
“Yes, I ran into him.”
“You did?”
“The customer who didn’t want to buy anything, is that right?”
“He asked if I knew what had happened. If Filip had come to me. No, I said, why on earth would he do that? Then I realized he’d told Filip that Killian Persson might be alive. That he…I’m sure that’s what he really wanted—Isidor, that is. To confess he had violated our confidentiality.”
Adrian followed the unsteady priest for a bit, then stopped. Isidor didn’t seem to notice, just kept walking off into the dark.
“He’s going home on foot?” Siri said.
“For he has sinned, he said.”
“Maybe I should do the same.”
Vidar didn’t say anything for a long time, as if he were considering a tough decision. Then he said:
“What time did Sander and Killian leave the party?”
“Why?”
“It was one o’clock, right?”
“I think so. Yes, one o’clock. We even had a picture of them, from one of the disposable cameras.”
Vidar nodded slowly and looked at the sky again, unsure if the rain would return. Then he opened the binder in his hand.
112
The account was near the back.
He told me to write to remember. I don’t know if I want to, but at the same time it’s all I ever do. Remember. I have nothing else left and soon I won’t even have that, if things go on like this.
So it began.
Filip described the party, the last time he saw his brother, how and when he left. He was concise:
I leave at one with Elina, I know that much. The clock in the front hall shows one on the dot as we go. Elina is drunk and laughing, imitating the clock hands with her arms. Like a dance, she said, arms over her head. It’s a position from ballet. I don’t know if that’s true or if she’s just goofing around. But anyway, that’s why I remember what time it is. My brother is still at the party somewhere. I don’t say goodbye, because I’ll see him at home.
“What are you thinking?”
Siri blinked. She couldn’t think, so she just said what she felt:
