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Chapters (65)
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  65. Acknowledgements

They huddle for a moment with Sheriff Hansson and then a pizza menu board is moved to one side and the Chief inspects the head. He does not remove his hat. He kneels. He stays down there a while. He walks back out. I overhear him say crime-scene specialists are fifteen minutes away. More words are said but I can’t get them and I can’t read lips in this low-level light.

Chief Björn walks over to me and Noora chats with the Sheriff.

The square is empty but it smells like bonfire smoke and the ground is a slurry of mud and fermented apple puree.

‘You here the whole time?’

‘Yes, Chief.’

‘Did you see who left the head here?’ he points back toward that anvil without taking his eyes off mine.

‘No.’

‘You see anyone suspicious here tonight?’

Where do I begin?

I shake my head.

He looks at me, narrows his eyes, then glances over at the clockmaker’s shop.

‘I cannot emphasise enough how important this is. Did you see anything out of the ordinary here tonight. Anyone approaching the statue area.’

What do I say? The Chief must know about Pan Night, at least the headlines, the general idea, he must tolerate it. I see the Sheriff behind the Chief and he’s shaking his head almost imperceptibly.

‘I don’t think so,’ I say.

A van arrives and four people step out. I retreat a little way and watch them suit up and take photographs of the head and the area immediately surrounding the anvil. They erect proper screens around the statue but it’s too tall and awkward-shaped for a tent. They go about removing the severed heard from the anvil point and bagging it up. I can’t see them do it and I’m grateful for that. There are some things you don’t need to see to understand.

The pan of teeth is handed over to the crime-scene guys and they bag the teeth and tag them.

‘Will need a statement from you in the morning,’ says the Chief, glancing over at the broken clock on Hans Wimmer’s shop. ‘Later this morning.’

‘Okay, Chief. Who do you think did this? Is it Arne’s head?’

I expect him to dismiss me with a patronising off-the-shelf police-chief remark but he looks weary and says, ‘Something like this? Truly I do not know.’

The sun comes up and bathes the rooftops on the bright side of the square with white forensic light.

Konsum opens like this is just any other day.

I trudge back to Julia’s house. Her garage is unlocked. I get into my Hilux and drive home. Numb. Too many impressions. Too much to take in.

What the hell is wrong with this town?

21

Usually I’d stop by McDonalds before home, but I have no appetite. I’m too tired to eat. Too pensive.