They were about to return to their cars, when one of the crime-scene technicians called out to them. The man was standing close to the bridge wall, where Børre Halvorsen in all likelihood had been killed.

‘What is it?’ Yngve asked, walking over.

‘This might be helpful,’ the technician said, holding up some tweezers, from which hung a piece of dark-brown leather.

‘Looks like a piece of a glove or something,’ Therese said.

‘Yeah,’ the technician said. ‘I’m willing to bet on it, actually.’

30

30

For the next few hours, Imo and I just sat in his living room with our mobile phones out, constantly checking for updates. In between, I read interviews with people I knew and others I didn’t know. Everyone was telling the media how scared and sad they were. Their thoughts were with Mari and Johannes’ families. Some were worried about their own children as well, about what they should do while the police carried out their investigation. Should they keep their children at home? Accompany them wherever they went?

It took a while for people to wake up, but once they did my social media feeds started buzzing. I checked Børre’s Facebook comment from the day before, and noticed that even more people had joined in on the thread. A few had supported me, telling the others to give me the benefit of the doubt, but after Christina, one of Mari’s friends, said that she’d seen me inside the school hall during the show that night, all the comments were full of hatred and disbelief.

I shook my head. This isn’t happening, I said to myself. This isn’t fucking happening. Someone had killed Børre. And given what Christina had written, there would no doubt be people around town who would once again be pointing the finger at me. Børre had ‘seen me’. Seen me do what? For fuck’s sake!

I had no idea, though, what I’d done after I vomited. I presumed I had been asleep in Imo’s bed. In theory, I could have gone out while Imo was working in his studio, but that just didn’t make any sense. I hadn’t been able to move. How the hell could I have made it to Fredheim and back again without being aware of it?

I wanted to tell Christina and the others that I’d already been questioned by the police, and that I hadn’t been arrested. Wouldn’t PCI Mork have brought me in or charged me if he thought I’d done it? I wanted to retaliate or tell my friends and the rest of Fredheim that I was innocent, but somehow I didn’t think they’d believe me.