Rain was pattering noisily onto my hood. I pulled it off so I could hear what people around me were saying.

‘…there was blood everywhere…’

‘…Tic-Tac called the police…’

A police officer lifted the cordon to allow two men and a woman, all dressed from head to toe in white plastic overalls, to come inside. One of them was carrying a small black case. They looked like something from a movie.

A voice cut through the chatter.

‘…they found her in the music room.’

I looked around. People were still staring at me, I was sure of it. Then I saw Ida Hammer, Mari’s best friend, as she threw her head back and let out a wail. Everyone’s attention suddenly turned to her. She threw herself on the ground and howled, and for a moment that was all I could hear. Some of her friends stood around her, trying to stop her falling face down on the cold, wet asphalt.

I didn’t notice when I let go of my bike. I only heard it topple to the ground.

7

NOW

‘So you knew then that Mari had been murdered?’

Prosecutor Håkonsen looks at me like she doesn’t really believe me.

‘I didn’t know, but seeing Mari’s best friend cry her eyes out like that – I kind of guessed what had happened. But I didn’t want to believe it. I kept saying to myself: It’s not her. It’s not Mari. Someone else must have been murdered.’

I sneak a look at the people in the public seats, trying to get a feel for what they think of my story. Hard to tell. Everyone is looking at me, waiting for me to continue.

‘Right then and there, I wanted to forgive her for breaking up with me,’ I say. ‘It wasn’t important anymore.’

‘You wanted to forgive her?’ Ms Håkonsen’s voice is full of disbelief. I immediately regret what I’ve just said. I don’t know what to say next. But I have to say something. I speak without thinking. ‘I’m … I’m not going to lie to you, I was very angry with Mari. I wanted to … I don’t know. Force the truth out of her or something.’

‘You were going to demand an explanation.’

‘Yes. But then, after seeing Ida, I didn’t care anymore. I just wanted Mari to still be alive.’

I can feel a lump in my throat again. I try to swallow it away. Ms Håkonsen looks at me quizzically.

‘OK,’ she says. ‘What happened next?’

‘I threw up. Well. Almost. I leaned forwards, as if I was about to puke, but nothing happened.’

I try to get up, so I could show the court, but there’s not enough space in the booth I’m sitting in. Ms Håkonsen gestures to me to sit down. I do as I’m told.

‘Then Oskar came over,’ I say.