Mia Krüger could only feel sorry for Holger Munch as he sat beside her while they drove to the chapel in Bøler. They’d worked together on countless cases, but she didn’t remember ever seeing him so burdened. He drove in silence, with a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth, staring vacantly through the windshield with an empty, almost resigned expression. The pressure lay like a heavy cloak on top of the otherwise unruffled detective. This case had reached deep inside his private life. He was involved. Threats had been made against little Marion. Malin Stoltz had clearly managed to rattle Holger Munch to such an extent that he was no longer thinking straight.
“Nothing from the nursing home?” she asked in a calm voice.
Munch shook his head grimly. “It looks as if Malin Stoltz lived two lives,” he told her. “People knew her at work, but no one had any contact with her outside work.”
“Did you manage to talk to your mother?”
Mia knew that this was a sensitive question, but it had to be asked. They had more important priorities than to worry about feelings now.
Munch nodded. “The man who heads the church is some dick by the name of Pastor Simon.”
He just about managed to utter the name, Mia noticed. He seemed shaken to his very core. Perhaps Anette had been right after all. Perhaps he should have been taken off the case. At this moment in time, Mia was inclined to agree with her.
“That was all? No surname?”
Munch sighed and shook his head. “Pastor Simon, that was all. I’ve asked Gabriel to see if he can find out any more about him.”
“And this Lukas Walner? Did she know who he was?”
Munch said, “I believe he’s this Simon’s assistant.”
“And you’ve seen them both?”
Mia knew this was also not a question Munch wanted to hear, but it had to be asked.
“From a distance, yes,” Munch replied briefly as he opened his window.
He tossed the cigarette out and lit a new one just as they arrived at the white chapel. If Mia hadn’t known where they were going, she wouldn’t have picked this as the building they were looking for. From the outside there was nothing to suggest that it was a place of worship; it looked like a Boy Scout hut or some other anonymous public facility. It wasn’t until they’d walked through the gate and reached the door that she could see that they had indeed come to the right venue. It said METHUSELAH CHURCH on a small sign beside the front door, and above it there was a small crucifix. The place seemed deserted. The door was locked, and she could see no signs of activity anywhere.
Munch walked down the steps and along a gravel path that led to the back of the building. Mia was about to follow him when her phone rang. She briefly considered ignoring it—given the state that Munch was in, she really didn’t want to let him out of her sight—but the whole unit was now on red alert, so she couldn’t. She watched the back of his duffel coat disappear around the corner as she pressed the green button.
“Yes, Mia here.”
“Are you Mia Krüger?”
The voice was unfamiliar.
“Yes, who am I talking to?”
“You’re hard to track down.” The voice let out a sigh.
“Is that right? Who is this, please?” Mia said.
“I’m sorry if this is a bad time,” said the man on the other end. “I’ve been trying to get hold of you for a while, but as I said, it hasn’t been easy.”
Mia followed Munch around the corner and watched her colleague peer through a window.
“And what is this about?” Mia said impatiently.
“My name is Albert Wold,” the man continued. “I’m the sexton of Borre Church.”
Borre Church.
Her whole family was buried in its cemetery.
“Go on,” Mia said.
“Like I said, I’m sorry for disturbing you,” the sexton continued.
“Has anything happened?”
Munch moved away from the window and continued to walk around the white chapel.
“Yes. We discovered it a week ago, and the whole thing seems very strange. We didn’t know what to do, apart from contacting you, obviously.”
“And what has happened?”
“One of your family graves has been desecrated,” the sexton said.
“What?” Mia said. “How?”
“Well, that’s the odd thing,” the man continued. “It would appear that the only grave affected is your sister’s.”
Mia Krüger stopped in her tracks and forgot all about keeping an eye on Munch. “Sigrid’s grave?”
“Yes, I’m afraid so,” the sexton said sadly. “As far as we can see, none of the other graves has been touched.”
“Desecrated. How?”
“I don’t know how to tell you this,” the man went on. “The whole business is really very unpleasant. Someone has deleted your sister’s name.”
“Deleted it? What do you mean?”
“With a can of spray paint. At first we thought it was just ordinary vandalism—it does happen, with these out-of-control teenagers we have here—but we soon noticed that this was different. What made it so odd.”
Mia glanced around for Munch, but she couldn’t see him anywhere.
“What do you mean, different?”
“Now it says your name instead.”
“What?”
“Someone has painted over Sigrid’s name and written yours instead.”
A wave of unease washed over Mia Krüger just as she saw Munch reappear around the corner of the building. He gestured to her that they were going back to the car.
“Would it be possible for you to come up here?” the sexton asked.
Munch tapped his watch and waved irritably to her on his way to the Audi.
“I’ll try to get there as soon as I can,” Mia said, and ended the call.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Munch shouted out to her. “This place seems deserted. We have to issue descriptions of both Lukas and this pastor.”
“Pardon?” Mia responded distractedly.
Someone had been to Sigrid’s grave.
“We have to issue a description,” Munch said again, getting angrier. “We have to find these idiots and bring them in for questioning.”
Munch started the car and drove down Bogerudveien. Mia was contemplating telling Munch about the conversation she’d just had when his cell rang. The conversation lasted less than ten seconds. When he disconnected, his face was if possible even whiter than it had been a moment ago.
“What is it?” Mia asked anxiously.
Munch was almost incapable of speech now. He could barely squeeze out the words.
“It was the nursing home. My mother has suddenly taken a turn for the worse. I have to go there right away.”
“Oh, God!” Mia exclaimed.
“I’ll drop you off in the center of town. You sort out the wanted notice.”
“Of course,” she agreed.
She searched for some way to show her sympathy but found none.
Munch switched on the flashing blue light, hit the accelerator, and sped toward the center of Oslo.