Gracefully manoeuvring herself into the crowd, she carefully laid down her roses and gave Vanja and Kristina each a hug. Elise seemed preoccupied by lighting a candle, and Selma nodded to her parents with as much sympathy as she could muster, before withdrawing just as quickly back into the throng.

The number 51 bus approached from the north. It reduced its speed, which already could scarcely be in excess of twenty kilometres per hour. The driver must have had prior information about the melancholy gathering, because he stopped at a respectful distance. Selma retreated even further from the semicircle of people. Now she was standing on the side opposite the spot where Haakon had somehow plunged into the bushes, down into the stream, struck his head and apparently drowned. She turned and peered down into the ditch. In the stream, which on this side disappeared into a concrete pipe beneath the road, ice had formed in several places like a crystal-clear lid above the still-trickling water. The slope up into the forest was steeper on this side.

Selma spotted something attached to a tree up there. Smaller than a bird box, larger than a box of long matches. A sudden thought made her curious to take a closer look at the device. She regretted having changed on the bus from her studded shoes to her leather boots. Nonetheless she carefully put down her shoulder bag and took a step down into the ditch. With an energetic leap she reached the other side. She turned around for a second. No one had noticed her: everyone’s attention was focused on the ceremony on the other side, where a man’s voice had started to speak. Shout, almost, though because of that she could not recognize the voice.

She sprinted the thirty metres or so to the device on the tree trunk. It was exactly what she had hoped for.

A wildlife camera.

Not of the modern type, with remote control, GPS and software that meant the owner could sit anywhere in the world watching what was going on. This edition was simple, she saw, and was stamped with the Public Roads Administration logo. She supposed it had been set up with a view to tracking the movement of wild animals across the road that bisected the Maridalen valley, with abundant wildlife on both sides. The red and yellow logo was almost worn away. The cable ties holding the camera fastened to the spruce trunk, on the other hand, looked new.

Selma glanced yet again towards the road.

Someone had started singing. More and more people joined in. A psalm, she presumed, at least it was slow and sombre enough. It didn’t look as if anyone had noticed her little detour. She was clearly visible from the gathering down there. So she moved behind the tree to avoid being so easily discovered. After fishing out a bunch of keys from her pocket, she began to saw through the plastic ties.