Anders Finstad was waiting on the steps when Mia Krüger pulled up outside Hurum Equestrian Centre. From the outside, it looked very much like the Nurseries. A long avenue with majestic birches flanked by frost-covered fields leading to what seemed to be a beautifully maintained estate. An impressive main house, a gravel yard, a very pretty red-brick building which would appear to be the stables. Mia Krüger got out of her car; she had a really good feeling about the place. True, there was no open sea, and yet it was like being at Hitra. There was calm out here.
‘Hello,’ he said, walking quickly down to meet her. ‘Anders Finstad.’
‘Mia Krüger,’ Mia responded, shaking his cold hand. He had clearly been outside for a while.
‘Yes, I know who you are.’ He nodded, smiling faintly. ‘Under different circumstances, I would have said that I’m honoured by your visit.’
‘Ah.’ Mia smiled, trying to determine whether this was an attempt to charm her, to make her more favourably disposed to him, but she could see no signs of it. Her first impression of Finstad was similar to her feelings about the place he owned: he was a man who cared about his appearance without it in any way seeming excessive.
‘What a tragedy,’ Anders Finstad said, once he had shown her into what Mia took to be the living room. He gestured to a chair, and smiled again cautiously.
‘May I offer you something or should we …?’
‘Get right to it?’ Mia smiled and hung her leather jacket on the back of the chair.
‘Yes …’ Finstad said, looking as though that was the answer he had been expecting and hoping for.
He pulled out a chair opposite her, sat down and stared at the white tablecloth, then seemed to brace himself, though Mia had yet to ask any questions.
‘I realized it, of course,’ he said, looking up at her tentatively.
‘What did you realize?’
‘That you would think it was me.’
‘Who told you we think it’s you?’
‘You don’t?’ Finstad looked surprised.
Mia could not help but feel a little sorry for the polite, well-dressed man sitting in front of her. He had dark rims under his eyes, and his hands were fidgeting on the table in front of him. It was clear that recent events had affected him deeply.
‘Right now, we don’t think anything. We’re keeping an open mind,’ Mia said. ‘But, of course, you knew Camilla. She was a student here—’
‘Oh, no.’ Anders Finstad said.
‘No what?’
‘Not a student, no. I wouldn’t call her that.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Camilla was …’ Finstad leaned slightly back in his chair, as if trying to find the right words.
‘What was she?’
‘Special,’ he said after a while. ‘She was nobody’s student, if I may put it like that.’
‘Please explain.’
‘You couldn’t tell Camilla what to do. She was very headstrong, very strong-willed.’
‘So she wasn’t your student, here at the riding school?’
‘What? Oh, yes, on paper, but you could not tell Camilla what to do. Fine girl. Absolutely. I realized it the first time Helene brought her. Has that ever happened to you? That you meet people who, well, who are more charismatic than others, who have a kind of, well …?’
Finstad didn’t seem able to find the words and continued to fix his gaze on the white tablecloth.
‘You liked her?’ Mia asked.
‘What? Yes, everyone liked Camilla.’
‘Including you?’
‘Oh, yes.’
‘Were you very fond of her?’
‘Oh, yes,’ Finstad said again, then suddenly realized where Mia was heading with her line of questioning.
‘Oh, no, no, not like that …’
Finstad continued to sit very still; he seemed to be expecting the next question.
‘September 2011.’
‘Yes.’
‘You know what I’m talking about?’
‘Of course.’ Finstad nodded, still without looking at her.
‘Two girls, your students, aged twelve and fourteen.’
‘I know …’
‘The photographs of them naked from the waist up in front of a horse?’
Finstad raised his hands from the table and covered his face. ‘I’m not proud of it …’ he said hesitantly.
‘But you did it?’
‘We all make mistakes, don’t we?’
He looked at her now, and Mia’s pity suddenly turned into disgust.
‘“Make mistakes”? So you think it’s acceptable to take pictures of naked little girls, is that what you’re saying?’
‘What?’ Finstad said, shocked.
‘You went out to the stables. You took your camera. You used the power you have over innocent girls to make them pose naked for you. That is somehow forgivable, is that what you’re saying?’
For the first time, Mia could feel last night’s alcohol rush to her head. Bloody Curry. He had kept her awake half the night. Talking about Sunniva. His gambling. It was not the first time, and it was probably not going to be the last. Finally, she had made up a bed for him on the sofa and dragged her mattress into one of the bedrooms, where she had tried to get some sleep. She had not had the heart to wake him when the alarm clock went off. The lack of sleep was starting to take its toll now; it made her angry and irritable, less professional than she ought to be.
‘You’re a paedophile, and you’re making excuses for it, is that how I’m supposed to see it?’
‘What?’ Finstad was mystified.
‘You heard me.’
‘What? God, no,’ Finstad said. ‘You don’t have all the papers?’
Mia had not got the full file from Munch, but she did not tell Finstad that. ‘You took pictures of two girls naked in front of a horse, that’s what we have.’
‘No, no, no!’ Finstad exclaimed. ‘You don’t have all the documents from that dreadful case? But you must have!’
She had taken pills as well. In order to be able to sleep. Sitting up with Curry half the night. Three hours until the briefing. She had swallowed some in the bathroom and passed out almost without any recollection of her head hitting the pillow.
‘So what is it that you’re not proud of?’ Mia cleared her throat, and pulled herself together.
‘Of course I wasn’t proud. I cheated on her. My ex-wife,’ Finstad said, looking at her now, puzzled. ‘Doesn’t your file tell you that?’
Mia cleared her throat again. She could feel herself starting to lose patience with Munch. He had sent her out here without all the relevant information.
‘Of course,’ Mia lied, ‘but I had to check.’
‘That it was her revenge?’ Finstad said.
‘Yes,’ Mia said.
‘That my wife made it all up? To get her own back? Because I cheated on her? That she admitted it later? That the investigation was called off?’
‘Yes, yes, we know, but I had to ask.’
‘Yes, yes, of course.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Mia said, and she meant it.
‘Don’t mention it,’ the well-dressed man said, offering her a small smile now. ‘But I regret it. I behaved badly. I’m not really like that, but …’
‘It’s none of my business,’ Mia said, trying to look as kindly at him as she could.
Her headache arrived at full speed now. Bloody Munch. Bloody Curry.
‘Such a tragedy.’ Anders Finstad shifted his gaze to his hands again. ‘Camilla was so special. She just was. Really.’
‘Did she come here often?’
‘Yes.’ Finstad nodded. ‘Almost every evening, in some periods. She was one of the few girls who had her own locker. Did I mention that she was very talented? When she came here the first time, she had barely ever sat on a horse. I remember—’
‘A locker?’ Mia interrupted.
‘Yes. The keenest girls have them. They keep all their equipment here. It’s more convenient that way.’
‘Can I look inside?’
‘Oh – of course.’