Sejer pondered what she had told him. It was absolutely plausible. She might get away with this version; stranger things had happened in Norwegian courts. A good lawyer. A charming defendant. A constant stream of tears and a serious, chronic condition that gave her fits.
“I shouldn’t have given him a bath without Nicolai’s help,” she said and sniffed. “But he was so busy with his old bikes. All I had to do was shout if I could feel a fit coming on. But I didn’t this time.”
“So normally you can feel it beforehand? That you’re about to have a fit?”
“Sometimes I get a little warning. But I didn’t this time. It hit me before I had time to think, and I just collapsed on the floor. And Tommy slipped out of my arms and went under. You have to believe me, because it’s true!”
“Carmen,” Sejer said calmly, “what you have just told me is very serious indeed. You tried to hide the truth, which is not good. You should have told us this right away. I’ve given you more than one chance. I’m afraid this may be taken to court and you will have to stand witness. There’s no getting away from it now. If you had told us from the start — well, it would have been better, but lying in your statement only encourages suspicion. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“But I’ve told you the truth now,” she sobbed. “Will I have to go to prison?”
“That’s for the judge to decide. We may have to remand you in custody, but let’s cross that bridge when we get to it. That’s up to the prosecution and defense. But you will, as you said earlier, need to get a good lawyer. Now, have you told me the truth about what happened? Be honest.”
“Yes,” she cried. “It’s the truth. I got cramps and fell on the floor. Tommy must have gone under and swallowed loads of water and got it in his lungs. It was an accident! I was stupid, but I’m not guilty of anything else no matter what you think. So just leave it now!”
“Who is your physician?” Sejer asked.
“Dr. Morris,” she said, taken aback. “At the medical center on Ågårds Plass. Why do you need to know?”
“I want to see your medical history, all the details,” he said somberly. “It might just save you.”
21
Dear diary,
Now, for the very first time, my dear friend, my new confidant, I’m going to write in my book with a red cover. I’m going to write down everything that’s happened, once and for all. I’ll try to be honest, but it might take some time, because the truth is buried deep inside. That’s not just true of me, but of everybody. So this is the situation: at least I don’t have to go to prison, because the case is still not clear in terms of the prosecution. That’s what he said, the scary inspector, and I was so relieved. I’m young and I don’t have a criminal record, and I’ve got a good lawyer. My lawyer’s name is Fredrik Friis, and he’s as old as Dad. It’s such a relief that he’s on my side. No matter what, he’ll support me. He’s says that everything will be fine, that the court will have to believe that it was because of the seizure and that my confusion afterward had terrible consequences. That’s the words he used, and I’m using them too, because they’re such a comfort. He will be the one talking in court and people will listen to him. Nicolai is going in for questioning this afternoon, but he’s got nothing more to tell. Just that I shouted in a panic when I saw the catastrophe. It was too late by the time he got there. I feel sorry for Nicolai. He’s taken this really badly. His life has just fallen to pieces, like there’s no way back. God, I was so scared when the police said they’d found evidence. I had no idea that they could find out all those details just by doing some tests. Gives me the shivers. All the things you haven’t thought about, water with soap in it, something as awful as that. But Dad is my greatest comfort. He believes me and will help in any way he can. He’s my rock. And now he’s heard my new statement. Nicolai got really angry, shouted and screamed — that you could do something like that, are you crazy? was what he said. He was raging and he doesn’t do that very often. I’ll say that for him. And then I started to cry, and he withdrew into himself as he always does when I cry. He sat there and clammed up and it was impossible to get through to him. And he knows what I’m like after a big fit. Yes, I would say that I’ve got a strong case.
I wish I’d had brothers or sisters.
I often think about it, and every time I do, I get really upset. A brother or a little sister. Someone to lean on when I feel upset, someone to complain to when things go wrong. Someone to confide in. It would have been so nice. But now I have you, dear diary, and you will also do the trick. But it’s sad that Louisa died. Because otherwise it would have been the two of us. Maybe it’s my fault. Maybe I was too greedy. I took all the food. So I’ve been punished for it and now I’m alone. And what about Nicolai, poor thing, who has no family whatsoever. It’s not surprising he’s so attached to Pappa Zita, and I’m so glad he is. Because everyone needs somewhere to go when life gets stormy. When life is unbearable. But I will do my best. Diaries exist for the truth to be told, and I will do what I can. There’s always the fear that someone else might read it, even though Nicolai definitely won’t sneak a look because he’s got such high morals. He’s quiet, he’s proper, he’s polite. That’s why I chose him. In the evenings he sits at the computer surfing the Internet, checking Facebook. Maybe he’s got friends there that I don’t know about. It’s possible, boys, maybe even girls. I never bother him. I just let him get on with it. I’m really fond of Nicolai. But I don’t think I’m in love with him, that’s gone forever. He’s become a habit. But a habit I like a lot, to be fair. It’s got a lot to do with Tommy, but so much is broken now. Maybe we’ll just become another statistic about relationships breaking up. Apparently it’s not that unusual, I’ve read about such things. How can we move on, I wonder, when it was Tommy who held us together? And now, after, it’s so incredibly empty, so deafeningly quiet in all the rooms. But the quiet is quite nice, to be honest. No one crying, no one making a fuss. It’s just a relief. I’m keeping a close eye on Nicolai and how he’s feeling. In case he breaks down, because I think he might. He’s so fragile, like he’s falling apart at the seams. And now it’s just him and me, suddenly like strangers, rattling around like two stones in a tin.
22
“Carmen’s not easy,” Nicolai said. “She’s so stubborn and willful and obstinate. She decides everything and she does it with such energy. Maybe it’s just that I’m weak; I don’t dare assert myself. I just do everything she says, and it’s been like that for years. It’s like she’s an expert in every field, and I just don’t make the mark.”
“She has epilepsy,” Sejer said. “How do you feel about that?”
“I feel sorry for her, because it’s not particularly nice,” he said. “It’s horrible and it leaves her confused. To be honest, that’s true for me too. Normally she wants to keep quiet about it, as if it’s something to be ashamed of. But that’s not true. She’s always had it, but she doesn’t have fits that often. She takes Rivotril. I’d guess she has a seizure about once a month. But they’re pretty major, the fits. She’s out cold for quite a while, and it’s pretty dramatic to see it as well. The cramps are powerful and last for a long time. I haven’t told Carmen, but I’ve never gotten used to it. It really freaks me out. She’s so confused and outside herself afterward. Whereas I’m worn out with fright and worry.”