Celia

Chapter 51

A meeting is agreed

 

My legs led me upwards past the big-stone, around the small trees where the hill came to an end and up to the edge of the small lake.

 

The freezing temperatures over the last couple of weeks had commenced the process of covering the small lake with a blanket of thin ice. But so far mainly along the shore. Some yards out the water was still flowing freely. But a small wind made the ripples big enough to prevent the sky from using the water as a mirror.  And since the sun was about to set and therfore by now hidden behind the trees on the far side of the lake, there were no stars twinkling in the tiny waves. Like last time.

 

I don’t know why I went here. But I started to walk on the instant the phone call was disconnected.

 

Everything was beginning to fall in place. Back to normal. Be able to look forward. Use all strength to build positive days ahead. To do what has to be done. Which will make us even stronger.

 

And I valued the visit. On the afternoon after the funeral. Now all things were settled – with everyone.

 

Until the mobile rang. Yes – till some time into the dialogue.

 

I made the first remarks after the «hi» exchanges. Appreciated her calling. Even though I did not know what she wanted.

 

And then the calm – almost order-like – statement. -I want you to meet me tonight.

 

The unease inside me was triggered at that moment. I’m not not sure what my first reply was – probably something like «yes, well …».

 

-I want to talk to you about what you did to Linda and Peter.

 

I recall saying that I didn’t know what she meant. But we agreed to meet. At eight.

 

Now it’s all chaos. In my head. In my chest. My whole body.

 

I have to try to reason with her. Explain it all to her. Get her to understand. I tried with Peter. But he did not want to understand. And he was digging for something else. It may work out this time.

 

But if she refuses to listen? The sting is a clear sign. It is the most probable outcome.

 

I must give her a chance. And if I do, I cannot take responsibility for what may happen next.

 

A couple of quack sounds from the lake disrupted my stream of thought. A whole family of ducks. Two of them – I guess it must be the mom and one of the ducklings – climbed onto the thin ice before heading for me. The dad and the other kid remained floating on the water moving only in rhythm with the small waves – it were as if they had sent their loved-ones along in order to shop some food.

 

But I have no bread crumbs. No buns. No tiny cuts of meat. I didn’t plan this visit here.

 

Should I simply refrain from coming? No – it won’t help. She will go to one of the others. Maybe the police woman.

 

So I have to prepare. There isn’t time for poison. I bring my hammer. It’s put away in the loft at home. With the rest of my tools and stuff. Has been there since that afternoon with Peter. It was clever of me to take it home. So that no one could find it. I cleaned it of course. The other tools as well. The hammer was not to be the only dustless item.

 

But can I go on like this? Is there about to be too many kittens?

 

An idea struck me – it had never been in my mind before.

 

I walk home and use the poison once more. Drink it myself – it can work with tea as well. Go to bed. If it’s all falling apart anyway ... it’s the only option left.

 

But it lasted just for a second or two – a powerful counter thought swept the idea brutally aside.

 

That’s not the way I am. I fight for what I’ve got. What I’ve achieved. For what is mine. Being my life. No one is allowed to take that away from me.

 

I’ll come to the meeting. I will bing my hammer. I know I’m going to use it if I have to.

 

I turned and started to walk at a brisk pace along the edge av the small lake. Continued on the walkway straight ahead – past the church yard towards home. My brain was already busy planning the meeting with her.

 

There is still unease. But my resolve is stronger. So strong that the unease will fade away. The only viable way is forward.

Chapter 52

You did away with them

 

She sat down at the small locker room table on a chair with its back to the wall. The same chair Laura was sitting on yesterday evening, she suddenly thought. It came almost as a surprise to her that challenging Laura the way she did was not further away in time.

 

She ought to be really tired. It felt like so much had occured during the last day and night. And she didn’t sleep for long.

 

But there was no sign of being sleepy. Not even weariness. Her head was wide awake. She could hardly recall her mind being as clear as now. All the right paths in the maze puzzle were open. Or at least most of them.

 

Admittedly there was something inside her body. She was not quite able to name it.  Anticipation? --- Excitement? --- Nerves? --- Fear?

 

No – I’m not afraid. Had I been, I would not be sitting here. Maybe I don’t want to allow any thoughts about this venture ending badly.

 

Simon had tried to get the idea out of her head. -I don’t like it, Celia. It can be dangerous. And – shouldn’t you call the police woman instead?

 

They were standing in the cold semi-darkness in the schoolyard early this morning.

 

-But what can the police do, Simon? These are my thoughts. Every part of me tells me I’m right. But think about it – not a single thing of what I’ve just told you, is a proper proof. So maybe they would arrange a talk – hardly anything more.

 

-That’s why we have to meet, she went on. -Face to face. I need a ... reaction. Are you coming? --- will you help me?

 

He realized that she was going to stick with her idea. And a tiny smile appeared on his face at last. -You know I’m coming, Celia. But if I’m ever to ask you to be careful ...

 

The vital telephone call. Which should give her the definite confirmation. She had to try three times before there was anyone answering. The office entry was no use, so the third time she dialled a mobile number listed on the web site of the club. He sounded like a middle-aged guy – inasmuch as a voice can disclose somebody’s age. He was talkative and bought the reason she gave him. He knew the story. Confirmed the names. Even the years in question.

 

Celia picked the mobile out of her jacket pocket and looked at the MMS message with the photo.

 

The next step was to get access to the locker room. Because it was crucial for her to arrive first. She felt somewhat reluctant to call Laura – after what had happended the day before. But it was the only option she could think of. And Laura did not pose any inquisitive questions – she appeared to be in a better mood than Celia had feared when she early in the afternoon opened the door to her apartment and handed the locker room key over to her coaching colleague. Celia promised to return it at their next training session.

 

The last call. To set up the meeting. She knew she had to say enough in order for the person at the other end of the line to understand what the meeting was about. But not more than that. They agreed on eight o’clock. It was Celia’s suggestion.

 

A swift message to Simon following the hang-up. «At eight». It was about as short as when she confirmed her intention to be a referee at the cup. She got four letters in return. «Okay».

 

Celia placed her phone on the tabletop without closing the MMS message.

 

It may prove to be useful. And if so I must be able to present it quickly. Even if the mobile enters sleep mode.

 

There were just a couple of minutes left now. She picked up a scratching sound from the back end of the locker room, as when a table or bench was pushed along the floor. A corner and a half-open door concealed the part of the room where the team used to prepare for their matches from the entrance section with the small table. Celia sensed a tiny smile on her lips.

 

He is nervous. But he came. Shortly after me. He is here. He is ... I don’t know what he is ... a witness? --- a safeguard?

 

The steps outside were not to be mistaken – they were heading towards her. She heard a key being put in the lock. It was probably a surpise to the owner of the key to find the door unlocked.

 

Celia had turned off the light right on the inside of the front door after finishing her small arrangements, so the locker room corridor was dark. Her phone had given away some light for a while, but by now the faint shimmer from the mobile was gone as well.  She focused on keeping her eyes wide open and look straight towards the entrance as the door was slowly opened – and a right hand stretched out to the switch.

 

-So you’re here already.

 

The corridor light was rather bright, so Celia was dazzled for a tiny second, but she did what she could to catch the face and the eyes of the person having entered the locker room.

 

-I didn’t think you had a key to get in here – so I took it I would have to unlock the door.

 

-Or you could have come down from above – down the stairs from the cafeteria – and opened the door from the inside.

 

These were far from the words Celia had been planning as her initial statement – but it kind-of bumped into her head as a response to the short explanation she was given.

 

Her eyes followed the figure walking with slow, but firm steps towards the table before sitting down on a chair straight across her and placing both forearms on the tabletop – without taking off winter jacket or gloves. Where Sonia was sitting yesterday – Celia’s reflections were once more flowing back to the night before.

 

There was immediate eye contact – and they remained seated close-to motionless maintaining this contact for several seconds.

 

It’s like a staring contest. Should I make the first move? --- no, I have decided not to do that.

 

-I know you were close to what happened here – and that you have ... become involved ... someway. But the ideas you have ... what you said on the phone ... you must forget them – they are just foolish talk ...

 

The person right across her had taken the initiative. The voice was calm – and as when talking to a friend.

 

Celia decided to come straight to the point. Otherwise she would run the risk of becoming entangled in a dialogue of which the other party would get the upper hand.

 

-You did away with them. Killed them both – down here in the locker room. Because they threatened to disclose something which you could not allow them to tell anyone.

 

She made a break. She noticed the twitching of the face observing her.

 

You were not prepared for me to tell you as straight as this.

 

-You created a life for yourself here – based on a story which is not true, Celia continued.

 

There was an abrupt change to the expression on the face in front of her. Agony? - or grief? --- but at the same time being honest.  And a quivering emotion could be heard and felt in the voice replying to her.

 

-Celia – you have to understand ... they were going to take my life away from me ...

 

There was a small fist knock with the person’s right hand against the table.

 

-Therefore you have to forget it – like I said. Everything is fine now. We are going to build this club – make it even better. You and me – all of us here. You will train together with Laura – I’m going to support you ... You need me. They all need me ...

 

Suddenly the voice halted, and the face turned somewhat more expressionless. And there was a touch of curiosity – and even wonder – in the question to follow.

 

-How did you know? Linda and Peter, they …

 

Celia picked her mobile from the table, swiped it out of its sleep mode and used her right thumb and index finger to enlarge the image of the displayed message. A photo of a photo – taken with the phone of the middle-aged man – in the cafeteria of the club which right after the summer holiday arranged an overnight cup. Celia held her telephone up – less than half a yard from the person across the table.

 

-This is the photo Linda spotted. And as you can see, you are in the picture. But you are not the one to ...

 

Celia came no further. The phone was ripped out of her hand. The opposite chair was kicked backwards as the other one half rose up while gazing at the mobile just a few inches away. But Celia quickly swept off the sudden alarm – there was one more thing she was determined to say.

 

-I want you to call the police. I can give you the number of the police woman in charge. You have to tell her exactly the way things are, that you ...

 

The sound of the cell phone falling to the floor hit her a tiny moment before the pain in her stomach as the tabletop was pushed into her at full strength. Celia plunged backwards, and even though she tried to protect herself, she could not prevent her head from being thrown against the wall. She attempted to get up, but sensed immediately that things were not as they should be. She felt the table hitting her a second time – now targeting her ribs and chest – and even harder than on the first encounter. She perceived the chair slipping away – she slid to the floor leaving her lying with her upper body halfway leaning on the lower end of the wall.

 

The person in front of her had risen to a fully upright position.

 

For the first time Celia sensed fear – increasing as her blurred sight spotted the other one picking something out from one of the winter jacket’s inside pockets. An object – an oblong object. A ... hammer!

 

The person took a few steps around the table and then pushed it forcefully aside. They were tightly close to each other now, but it was nonetheless as from a distance that Celia watched a right hand being raised  - holding the hammer.

 

-You have no idea what you’re talking about. Peter trying – I was talking to him ... decently, but he would not listen. Money ... as if that matters. So I fixed him. And now you’re coming here ... all on your own – thinking that you will ...

 

The voice was not loud, but the words came with a tense and dazzling force – like a mixture of despair and subdued rage.

 

A few lightening-quick steps along the locker room corridor, followed by a figure throwing itself forward to grasp the raised right arm. The attack came as a complete surprise to the owner of the hammer – the grip loosened making the tool fall banging to the floor.

 

-She didn’t come on her own. Simon did his utmost to lay claim on the other one’s attention.

 

He succeeded. His opponent turned abruptly, and two furious eyes were fixed on the young boy. The rage was no longer controlled.

 

-You too! What on earth ...? Don’t you get any ideas ...

 

Simon was hit by two arms shoving him away. The violent strength surprised him, and he tumbled backwards – several yards in the direction of the central locker room. He avoided cracking his head, but he sensed a sudden pain in his right hand as he tried to use both arms to push himself back on his feet.

 

The person between them swiftly made the necessary steps towards where the hammer had landed and took a renewed hold of the weapon.

 

Celia attempted to get somewhat up from her half lying position, but her body refused to obey the way she wanted. So instead she tried to inflict a couple of kicks on the feet of their adversary – who now once again turned towards her holding the hammer. But her kicks did not hit their intended target.

 

The images of what was happening before her were blurry – one moment they seemed far away, then all of a sudden tightly close.

 

She perceived making an attempt at raising her hand in order to receive the stroke of the hammer.

 

But there was no blow this time either. Celia heard the shout as Simon once more was calling for attention. She perceived the moment of hesitation - the image before her eyes was for an instant sharp and close-by as Simon clutched around their opponent’s neck with his left forearm, while his right arm grasped the wrist of the hand holding the weapon.

 

The rage appeared to render strength, making their adversary holding on to the hammer. A swift turnaround and a small jump sideways. The film playing in her mind was depicting Simon using his left arm to cling on to the back of the neck of the person now turning straight at him, but he was unable to prevent the hammer hand to be raised preparing a blow against his head.

 

Celia heard herself crying in despair, and mobilizing all the powers left in her body she pushed herself onto her knees and tried to throw her upper body forward towards the two legs a couple of yards in front of her.

 

Cold winter air flowed in along the floor and hit Celia’s face as the front door of the locker room was struck open.

 

-Drop the hammer,Emma! It’s over now!

 

The cafeteria woman turned around lightning fast staring towards the entrance. Before taking a couple of swift steps backwards, while at the same time tearing herself loose from Simon.

 

Sonia was standing on the doorstep. She started to walk slowly inwards towards the locker room table. 

 

Emma backed another few yards – further into the corridor. Now she had them all in front of her – Simon standing almost in the middle of the small room, Celia still half lying on the floor and Sonia approaching. She held her hammer at shoulder height.

 

-Stop! Don’t come closer! – you won’t get me. Her anger was about to change into desperation. -I’m going upstairs – don’t follow me!

 

Sonia stopped – there were still a few steps until she would reach the table, which Emma had pushed out onto the floor while attacking Celia and therefore was now partly barring the passage over to the three others. 

 

-Don’t do anything foolish, Emma. You know me – we were here together only last night.

 

Her voice was the same steady and calm one. But she saw that first Emma’s glance – then her body – turned towards a small white-painted door a little further along the corridor.

 

Celia had made it up on her knees, and her eyes were swiping back and forth between Sonia and Emma.

 

Then something totally unexpected happened.

 

A sudden and total transformation to Emma. She let her hammer go as she staggered a few steps forward. But she no longer sensed Celia, Simon or Sonia. She was staring towards the locker room entrance, and her face changed from rage and despair into something which Celia was unable to put into words in her head.

 

Celia followed her glance while at the same time once again feeling the winter cold against her body. On the doorstep stood the man with the deep calm voice – the man who had encouraged her and given her the required self-confidence just before she was to be refereeing for the first time in her life.

 

Emma went on reeling forward – past Simon and Celia. She did not seem to notice colliding with the small table – it was just shoved further ahead and over to the wall. Sonia moved a step aside making no effort at stopping her.

 

Two or three steps from the man on the doorstep she fell down to her knees. She crawled the remaining couple of yards – up to the two non-moving legs covered by their well-worn pair of trousers. She grabbed both of his pants legs with her hands, and clutching onto them she turned her face upwards.

 

-Johnny – they wanted to take this away from me – take the club away from me – take ... my life! All I’ve got – everything …

 

A tiny pause, after which her voice turned fainter yet even more agonized.

 

-Johnny! Take ... you …

 

She fell to the floor without releasing her grasp of his trouser legs. The commencing sobs increasing in intensity were rapidly penetrating the air.

 

Celia was unable to remove her eyes from Johnny – the ceiling light located obliquely above his head lit up the old face. It was all gone. All confidence. All warmth. She was looking at a face in absolute chock – a face which would never again be capable of displaying a smile or carrying a deep calm voice. His eyes barely moved as they were gazing at the woman lying in front of him, and even though his mouth was trembling, there was no sound coming from it. 

 

His face is nearly ... totally white. It is ... awful. It’s almost like … when I found … when I found …

 

It came as a relief when her head all of a sudden shifted its focus to sounds originating outside. Sounds getting louder as they were closing in. Which could not be mistaken.

 

The police was about to enter the club square.

Chapter 53

A necklace and a shawl

 

It was a bad habit of hers. Having dinner and working on her laptop at the same time. Or at least use it. Even though it was not professional work on all occasions.

 

But tonight it was job related. Two projects in fact. Two Word documents opened. In addition to a few Google pages.

 

She would be working on the most extensive one for some time. It was planned to produce several articles – maybe for one edition each week. Immigrants in our city – in various occupations. Immigrant women in particular.

 

She had accepted the task somewhat reluctantly. But the editor-in-chief insisted. -I can think of no one better suited than you to come up with the issues we want to highlight.

 

That’s in a way the difficult part. What are the issues? I really don’t see anything very special about having an immigrant background. An immigrant woman is exacltly like myself. A woman. Toiling and struggling to get the best out of life.

 

But there were a lot of stories to be found on Google.

 

The other project was closer to home. And more tangible. -You have to follow up the killings.

 

-The club killings, she clarified even if it was evident to Christine which killings were being referred to. -We haven’t covered the story for a couple of weeks. Not since her ex-guy was arrested. The police must know more by now. Is he still – by the way - walking freely around?

 

Christine replied that she thought so. But still considered a suspect. She had heard nothing to the contrary.

 

-You’ve got contacts at the club as well as in the police. Maybe you have some theories of your own? --- which you could embed in a subtle but intelligible way in an article.

 

Christine moved a fork full of slippy noodles from the plastic box on the tabletop and uttered a subdued curse as a large part of it landed on her keyboard.

 

After which she could not let be peering at her mobile once more. The message that appeared about half an hour age.

 

«Great food last time – old as well as fresh. Another try on Friday? Kelvin».

 

What does he mean by that? But I don’t have any specific plans for Friday. So why not? It went fairly well that Monday night.

 

The loud ring signal from the mobile startled her a little.

 

-Christine? You know the boss has put me almost on top of the list of contacts on our web.

 

She smiled somewhat to herself. It was one of the old guys. Who had been at the paper for as long as anyone could remember. But he was all right – she liked to stop by for a chat with him.

 

-Probably just to harass me. Anyway – I received a strange call a couple of minutes ago. A woman saying she wanted to talk about something which – how did she phrase it? --- «maybe has to do with these club murders». She wished to speak with the one writing about the case in the paper. I suggested to put her through to you, but she would rather call back. So I gave her your number. And name.

 

Five minutes passed before there was another signal. Christine looked down at the displayed number. No one she recognized – at least not readily.

 

-Hi, are you Christine?

 

It was a tentative female voice, and Christine immediately heard that it did not belong here in the city.

 

Following a confirmation and short intro on Christine’s part the other end of the line continued.

 

-I don’t know if I should tell. I guess I’m just foolish. Me imagining things. I’m sure people will say it’s nonsense. You too.

 

After such a disclaimer you are sure not to be dismissed. So now you have no choice but go on.

 

-You see – it was when we were small. No – when I was a kid. Or – I think I was fourteen or something. She was almost grown-up. But it was before she left home. For the city.

 

-It’s terribly long ago. And I ... we had no contact. You think I talk rubbish. But I was ... afraid of her. After that.

 

Christine had initially listened somewhat superficially, but her mind was starting to get sharpened.

 

I sense that there is something here.

 

-Because things happened before that as well. When I was even younger. But I had just vague feelings. This time I saw it. Almost.

 

There was a break. Christine perceived kind of a swallow sound. Do you sit drinking?

 

-I read about the ... killings. I knew she was there. In the club I mean. She wrote to me ... a long time ago.

 

-I made up my mind to speak with her. Searched her number and called. I don’t really know what I expected would come out of it. But she invited me to visit her. Right there on the phone. I went to her place on the day ... well – she came from ... I think she’d just come home from the funeral of ... that man.

 

Swallowing once more. As thoughts were starting to circle in Christine’s head.

 

-She was nice and ... kind ... while I was there. Told me she appreciated me coming. But I felt something ... weird inside me – like something not being right. All the way on the train home. I’ve been ... anxious.

 

-I guess you think it’s just nonsense. And it probably is. Only because of a kitten.

 

-Kitten? Christine was at a loss to follow the line of thought.

 

-Yes? Didn’t I say? That was what she did. All those years ago. When I was a kid. Before she left home.

 

There was silence – lasting for so long that Christine had to intervene. -What was it? – she did?

 

-She killed it of course. I know she killed it. I watched her as she mixed the stuff into the milk she gave it. It was poison. And then I found it – lying dead on our outdoor stairs. Yellowish fluid coming out of its mouth.

 

There was not only a sharpening of her mind any longer. Something else was beginning to crawl into Christine’s body. A feeling of ... No – I don’t know what it is. Disgust? Worse than that.

 

-I told her. She didn’t think I knew.

 

-You understand – the kitten was playing with some of her things – a kind of necklace ... had been chewing and eating and scratching at it – I guess it was ruined. She got it from a boyfriend.

 

She was quiet for a few seconds  - as if she needed to think back. -She was rather popular ... I think – boys, I mean. But this guy was a little special – I remember him. And she also got a nice scarf ... or shawl maybe ... there were claw marks on it ... I think it tore her handbag down from the back of her chair, making all the things fall out.

 

-So she killed our kitten because it ruined a necklace and a scarf she was fond of.

 

-I guess it’s just nonsense …

 

The third time you are saying that?

 

-I was uncertain ... the police would of course not pay attention to a story like this. So I thought about the local paper. I spotted a copy on her table – when I visited her.

 

Christine was still somewhat in the dark. -You and her – I didn’t quite catch ...

 

-Oh – didn’t I say? I’m her little sister. The little sister of Emma.

 

The indefinable feeling brewing inside suddenly took control. -I have to hang up now. Can I call you back?

 

Christine swiped through her contact list. Celia. No – Mai. Or perhaps Sonia?

 

The sounds emerging from outside cancelled her search and made her put the mobile back on the small kitchen table. She half ran over to the door leading onto the tiny balcony at the far end of her apartment space.

 

She was not dressed for the freezing temperatures, but she still went out. The police sirens came through loud and clear now. Even though the distance was close-to half a mile, she enjoyed a rather undisturbed view from her small balcony to the club ground. She could glimpse the vehicles and saw the flashing lights penetrating the darkness.

 

Celia! Oh my God – I’m too late.

Chapter 54

A photo in front of the locker room

 

The distance from the police station to the club house was no more than about three or four miles. Even so the drive took some time. Although the afternoon rush hours were still to commence in full, the number of cars in the streets was increasing. And since it occured to no one to consider the small electric car as a police vehicle, it did not get any special respect from its fellow road users.

 

But we have time. Right now we’ve got all the time in the world.

 

Mai was on her own in the front seat. The two youngsters were sitting behind her. They are probably still a little tired, she thought while looking in her rear-view mirror. But they are awake. And they will be fine. And I’m looking forward to our small gathering up at the house.

 

Sonia had left the police station earlier in the day. -There’s something I have to do – someone I need to speak with. I promised to come today – and I don’t want him to wait for too long.

 

I know of course whom she’s going to visit. And I agree. It is important. There are some people we need to look after as things are.

 

There was no resistance from Emma when they arrived at the club house last night. Two colleagues took her back to the station. They waited till this morning before conducting the first questioning. There wasn’t too much to get out of that. Other than a few facts. And a confession – unconditional. That’s just as well for the time being. There will be more to come.

 

And then - the two teens. The way they appeared there was nothing to argue about – she herself came along in the vehicle driving them to the local hospital. It would in any case be a standard procedure under such circumstances. Of the two Celia was in worst shape. Simon had injured one of his wrists, but it was deemed to be a rather small sprain – it would heal given a couple of weeks. The doctor assessing Celia was considering to make her stay the night for observation – even though she had not been unconscious, she was suffering from a light concussion. But she decided after a thorough examination to let the girl go home.

 

Mai accompanied them both to their doorsteps and talked to their families. At the terraced house Celia’s big brother was the one taking charge, and Mai readily understood that she was in good hands. As she once more was sitting in the front seat of the police car, she looked up the local high school on the web to find the entry for the principal. Who answered the call immediately, even though it was getting rather late.

 

-Simon and Celia will not come to school tomorrow. Celia maybe not for some days.

 

It was no time for rendering lengthy explanations, but she nonetheless added one extra remark. -We have arrested the one who killed the two persons over at the club.

 

She wanted them to sleep for as long as possible. To what extent they were able to do so after the events of the night, was another matter. But she made appointments to pick them up the next day – about one o’clock.

 

This time there were – even though she would not name it a questioning - formal statements to be made. Technically speaking. To be officially recorded. She was in charge accompanied by an officer about her own age – Milan – she liked him and recognized some of her own past when he on a rare occasion talked about his home and upbringing.  Their boss took part initially – for greetings and some formal introduction. Then she left the room – this was their case.

 

They opted to talk to Sonia first – alone. It was in line with current practice – persons being questioned should be allowed to speak freely without having to care about other people present. Sonia left the station after finishing her story.

 

But Mai asked for permission to let the two youngsters give their recollections while being together – for the sake of both of them. And her boss consented – the circumstances of this case being rather special.

 

She concentrated on the actual course of events of the day before. Made them tell exactly how they experienced it. What had really taken place.  

 

A somewhat more eager interrogator might have attempted to extract the words from Simon a little faster – been slightly more impatient. But Mai let him go on at his own pace – and he explained himself in a way which was impossible to misunderstand. Even if she noted that he left out a small - yet probably important - detail.

 

He’s an intelligent boy.

 

Finally Celia. Mai was surprised at how exact and concise her story was – no empty talk. For a young girl having a concussion, she thought.

 

But she is in no way telling it all. And we have deliberately let the background stuff wait. I asked her to do that. It’s much better to discuss those things when the setting is more informal. And that’s why some of us will meet up at the house in a few minutes.

 

Celia was the first one to come out after the el-car had made a small circle around the oval square and parked fronting the club house. She saw at once that they were not alone. The hug she got as Christine came to greet her, felt warm and genuine. Even though her eyes dwelt on a guy a few yards behind the journalist.

 

-You must say hallo to Conrad. He’s my photographer. Film man too by the way. A magician with film and photo. Can make you look exactly the way you want in whatever picture there is.

 

Christine smiled as she loosened her arms from the hug with Celia.

 

-But he will just be with us down here. Not when we’re going to talk. He is not among the initiates.

 

Christine backed a few steps, but contined to watch the girl in front of her.

 

She looks good. Better than I’ve feared. I think she’ll come through fine.

 

Then she turned to the police woman. -Mai ... yes, I use your first name – as you are partly off duty now? You know – for the paper – scene of the crime and all that. A photo with the locker room door as its background – open rather that shut – is that possible? --- or is the area still barred?

 

-You beat me to it, Mai replied. -You see the do-no-cross tapes outside the entrance. I was asked to take them away. There’s nothing more for us to do here – at least nothing requiring a barrier.

 

She walked over towards the women’s locker room and started to remove the poles supporting the barrier tapes set up the night before.

 

Christine looked from Celia to Simon. -Is it okay with both of you in front of the locker room – by the entrance? I mean – thinking of … yesterday?

 

Celia nodded. But Simon was at a loss.

 

-Photo? --- what’s that to do with us? Locker room?

 

-Dear Simon – you two are the big heroes in our city right now. Of course we must have a proper photo of you.

 

-And you don’t need to fix your looks, she added with a subtle smile as Simon reacted by pulling four fingers through his rather messy hair.

 

Christine suddenly stepped in between the two teens – standing two or three yards apart - grasped one hand in each of hers and started to pull them – slowly – in the direction of the locker room.

 

-Be careful with Simon’s arm, Celia protested. -It’s injured.

 

But Christine had chosen the right one.

 

-Here – I suggest one of you on each side of the front door. Look at one another. But it’s time for me to step back – Conrad’s the director now.

 

-It’ll make a splendid front page! She retreated further onto the club square. -Special edition tomorrow. Even though it’s one of the days of the week on which we normally have no paper.

 

When the photographer a long quarter of an hour later was packing his gear, Celia suddenly perceived steps coming down some stairs – from inside the locker room. She turned and spotted the small white-painted door far into the corridor being opened – as she knew it was capable of.  

 

Philip came towards them. He targeted his charming smile on Celia as he issued his invitation.

 

-I have coffee, soft drinks, buns and real chocolate cake in the cafeteria. Come up by the back stairs – they’re quite safe, even if somewhat narrow.

Chapter 55

A tale of two killings

 

Celia moved her eyes sweepingly across the four other persons seated at the two tables which Philip had arranged as a side-by-side one.

 

I was sitting right here when Mai wished to speak with us two or three weeks ago. After the arrest of Mariam’s dad. And this is also where Johnny came over to me before I was to referee at the cup. With his calm voice.

 

They were each holding a piece of cake. Except for Simon. He politely declined. But he was having a bun.

 

-I have asked the police ... Philip nodded in the direction of Mai. -... whether I could sit with you here. I’m thinking about our club ... with all things that have happened. She accepted my request. But I will leave – and I’ve absolutely no problem with doing that – if any of you should feel that my presence will make it more difficult to speak freely.

 

A couple of tiny head shakes – otherwise there was silence.

 

Mai pushed her cake plate a little inwards on the tabletop. -We’ve had what I will call formal statements down at the station – with Simon and Celia here – and Sonia. But I felt a need to talk through the events of these last weeks – less formally. What has happened. And why it has happened. In order to understand. And doing so, I want all of you to think, speak and ask freely. I promise you that no words spoken here today will enter any formal police file unless we agree upon it.

 

Mai had deliberately seated herself straight across the table from Celia, and now she looked at the young girl with a subtle smile.

 

-And you, Celia – are the boss. You must lead us through. And Simon ...Her glance shifted obliquely over to the young boy, who in a way had sat down next to Celia, but even so somewhat more than a yard away. -You fill in when you can or must. The task for the rest of us, I think, is to  comment and ask – and maybe we will learn a few things today as well. But it’s your story, Celia.

 

Celia’s glance swept around the table once more. How should I begin? I think I’m actually good at explaining how things relate and connect – but I’ve never tried to explain to someone ... anything like this.

 

-I don’t know for sure why I got so … obsessed ... with what happened, she commenced so quietly that Christine over at the table corner had to lean a little forward. -I tried to push it away from me ... that it wasn’t mine – but I couldn’t. It may sound strange to you, but I think it has something to do with ... dad.

 

It might be an intro unneeded for the others. But it was important to her.

 

- And Mariam. I felt bad about Mariam. So I had to … find out.

 

-It was when I was sitting here – together with Mai and Sonia a couple of weeks ago – that I watched something occuring which was stored within my head, even though I did not catch the meaning of it at the time. You see, Philip, the stairs you made us use to get up here – from the women’s locker room to the storage behind the counter … She turned her upper body and pointed with her right arm. -... I never knew it was there. But Johnny came in through the front door and disapperead behind the cash desk. And as you were leaving, Mai, he entered once more – but he had never left the cafeteria. And the other night Kelvin – he’s my brother – did the same thing at home. Came in through the door to the living room twice. The first time he’d gone out by our small kitchen porch. These two ... similar events ... kept buzzing around in my head. Until I suddenly knew ... where it was done. Where Linda got the poison.

 

She stopped to breathe for a second. -I called Sonia – late – to check about the rear exit from the cafeteria. She knew the narrow stairs.

 

Celia noticed the small wrinkles on Mai’s forehead. And over at the corner Christine as well looked a little pondering.

 

-You recall we talked about where Linda was coming from. Celia was speaking directly to the police woman. -At first everyone assumed that she’d come out from the cafeteria. But after a while we understood that she didn’t do that – she had sent her daughter there – with her card – so that she could buy herself an ice cream. And at the school prom … She threw a swift glance over at Simon. -... I was speaking with Shakir – he refereed the match right before mine – he was standing by the fence. He saw Linda at the top of the club stairs.

 

-If you walk up the stairs, you either come from the club square or from one of the two senior locker rooms. I’m convinced that Linda went along the lower side of the house, up the stairs and towards the cafeteria in order to meet Mariam. 

 

No one was eating cakes any longer.

 

-Linda came straight from the women’s locker room. In which Emma had made an appointment to meet her. In which Emma poisoned her with a cup of tropical juice. Emma took the juice bottle from up here in the cafeteria – or maybe from the small storeroom behind the counter. And I think she added the dose of plant poison – being so small that it was no problem bringing it along – down on the small locker room table.

 

The first objection came from Christine. -But you were thinking – weren’t you? – that Linda was served the poison in a cup over at the sales booth – from a bottle which you, Philip ... A nod to the guy next to her. -... had just brought over from the cafeteria.

 

Mai continued the line of thought – the wrinkles on her forehead now being accompanied by a small wonder in her voice. -Which no one was able to find after the cup, until it popped up a fairly long time afterwards – full of deadly poison. And together with the cup.

 

Celia looked sideways at Simon. He took the hint – she wanted him to pick up the story for a moment.

 

-Under my clothes. In my training bag. When I came home from our last junior match of the season. I called Celia – even though it was late. And we handed both the bottle and the cup over to her ... He turned his eyes straight at Mai. -... outside the school yard. With poison in the bottle as well as in the cup, I got to know later on. And with lots of my prints.

 

- You know, he went on – and sent a second-long smile across to Celia. -At the school party there was ... someone ... wondering why I hadn’t been locked up.

 

Celia was not quite in line with his account of that night, but she let it rest.

 

-Of course Simon never put the bottle and the cup into his training bag. She resumed control of her tale. -The one doing that panicked when finding them in his own bag – and hid them at the bottom of Simon’s during the match he just talked about. We know who he is, but I’m asking you – let Simon and me discuss it with him – he’s not been at his best lately, and he has nothing to do with the killings.

 

-Yes, Christine – Linda got tropical juice at the sales booth. And a bottle with poison – together with the cup – was hidden in a bag inside the sales booth.  But there was no poison in the juice bottle which Philip brought over from the cafeteria ...

 

She hesitated for a brief moment as if considering how to complete what she was saying. -... when Linda was served from it. 

 

A small smile was about to make company with Mai’s wrinkles and wonder. But she took care to suppress it.

 

This is an absolutely special girl.

 

But her next topic came as a surprise.

 

-I dream. Mai – if you’ve got a police shrink or someone like that, maybe I should have a chat. Among other doings I was feinting myself past a player here on the pitch turf – he was carrying a juice bottle in each of his hands. So there were two bottles.

 

-You mentioned one … detail … to me when we spoke on the phone. From the investigations after the cup.

 

Celia stopped and peered for a moment across the table.

 

Maybe she doesn’t want me to reveal anything from the investigation. Since as I remember she told me to keep it to myself.

 

But no objection came from the police woman.

 

-You examined all drinking bottles and cartons being opened. And found no poison. But it was even more peculiar that you did not find any open bottle with the tropical juice at all.

 

-This was also one of the – well, mysteries – gnawing inside my head. It didn’t add up. Fair enough that a bottle with poison might have been removed from the booth. But there should at least have been one more. In the cafeteria. 

 

-And there was. But that one Emma brought with her down the rear stairs to the women’s locker room. Poured poison into it. And waited for Linda.

 

Celia turned towards Simon once more. -When you asked Samir to come to me to tell about the tropical juice ... He did – at school. We were sitting by the fountain without water. Linda had been chattering – told him she used to drink this particular juice more than anyone else. And that it was common knowledge. And who would be in a better position to know than Emma …

 

All of a sudden Mai rose from her chair. She started to walk with steady steps towards one of the walls – while at the same time commencing to speak calmly and clearly. It was a technique her boss had taught her. A way to sum up – or drive a narrative forward. As during a questioning. And always in present tense.

 

-What you are saying is that Samir serves Linda the tropical juice in the booth – with no poison in it. She lends her daughter her credit card in order to buy ice cream in the cafeteria, telling her - we can presume - that she will herself come over there shortly. Then she leaves – probably directly – for the women’s locker room where she has an appointment with Emma. Here Emma offers her another drink – this time full of poison. But ...

 

She turned by the wall to challenge Celia. -What about the juice she was carrying already?

 

-There are two possibilities. A couple of seconds passed before Celia answered, since Mai’s wanderings fascinated her such as to make her somewhat unprepared for the police woman’s question. -It was absolutely necessary for Emma to make Linda drink the poisoned juice, so she probably planned to have a drink together with her – therefore preparing a non-toxic cup for herself in advance.  As Linda is about to arrive, she pours one more cup of juice – containing poison this time, making sure that her visitor observes it’s being poured directly from the bottle.

 

-If Emma at this point notices that Linda is already carrying a cup of tropical juice – still being full or fairly so – I fancy she arranges to swap the two cups. She would just need to distract Linda for a few seconds to pull this off – I think it’s an easy thing to do. This has something to do with ... the school prom ... again – you see ... Shakir ... Another fast glance towards Simon. -... messed up our coke cans – thinking my can was his.

 

It sounds like you’ve had a creative school prom. The thought fell to Christine’s mind. I can’t remember myself occupied by ideas like this at my school parties.

 

Christine did not have time to express her small wonder before Celia went on.

 

-It might have been even simpler. That Linda’s cup – at least to a large extent – was empty when she arrived at the locker room. So Emma offered her a refill – and they remained there together until they finished their drinks.

 

-But no longer than that. Mai commenced to walk once again. -If I’m Emma, and I’m about to do away with Linda, I will be as nice and gracious as possible. Accept – or promise – anything she might ask for. Then the meeting is finished. Linda walks as you described it around by the club stairs and then towards the cafeteria entrance to rejoin Mariam. Emma mounts the rear stairs to the small storeroom behind the cash desk, and she has been absent for such a short time that those being on duty together with her assume that she’s been there all the time. And in the chaos following Linda collapsing – with the ambulance, with us and everything else – Emma is one of those who together with Sonia is trying to organize people outside – a bottle and an empty cup she easily places unobserved into a bag over at the sales booth, a bag which the rest of us ... A fast light-teasing glance over at Celia. -... are not permitted to know whose owner is.

 

-But could she take the risk of openly carrying the poisoned bottle over to the sales booth? Once more Chrsitine raised an objection. -Maybe in the inner pocket of her jacket, she went on somewhat softer, as if to herself, -but no --- wasn’t it a little too large for that?

 

A tentative smile appeared on Celia’s face as the question from Christine was hovering in the air for a moment or two.

-These might be guesses on my part, Christine. But again I think it was simpler. She didn’t bring the poisoned juice bottle to the booth. She emptied it and flushed it thoroughly while still in the locker room - then she took it up to the storeroom to place it among among other used empty bottles. What she later on brings to the booth, is the cup from which Linda has been drinking and what remains of the plant poison – I fancy she’s having the toxic liquid in a tiny medicine box or something like that.

 

-She poisons the open tropical juice bottle she finds in the booth – and which she knew would be there – then she puts it down in the bag together with the cup. You remember, Mai – Sonia told us when we were sitting here last time that after ... the thing with Linda ... there were probably not people in the booth, at least not all the time. And should Smair or someone else remain on duty there, Emma could just ask him to run some errand – anyone having tasks at the cup would do what Emma might tell them to.

 

Celia looked up at Mai who had come over to the tables again. -I think adding poison to the tropical juice bottle in the sales booth was part of her plan all along, but learning that Linda had just been served juice there, made it an even more clever idea. It was important for her to move focus away from the cafeteria and the locker room. She probably counted on the police finding the bag with the bottle, but then it was taken away before the search of the area started.  

 

-In this way... Mai noticed the slightly harder look on Celia’s face. -... she placed suspicion or guilt somewhere else ... with someone else.

 

Mai sat down. -So it was a meticulously planned killing.

 

-Just like with the kitten. Four heads turned baffled towards Christine – uncertain whether they had heard her words correctly.

 

-She killed her kitten because it scratched and thereby ruined one of her shawls – and gnawed on a necklace – she was fond of. Her little sister called.

 

She recounted – as coherently as she was able to – the telephone call of the previous night.

 

Simon half rose from his chair gazing at Christine. There was a trait in his voice which Celia had never heard before – some kind of subdued indignation. -We have a cat at home. A molly. We’ve had kittens a lot of times. Not these last years – it’s getting rather old. I used to play with them – the small ones I mean. Kittens are the most ... lovely ... there are. You really get to be fond of them. I remember one of them scratched and – well, practically destroyed – a poster which fell from the wall in my room – it was a poster I ... liked.  But to kill ... with rat poison ...

 

He sank heavily down onto his chair.

 

There was a soft throat clearing on the part of Philip, followed by a question redirecting them back to the main story. -Why did Emma have to plan killing Linda? Celia realized that he was addressing her.

 

-Linda had been speaking with Emma – been on to her. I don’t know for how long – some days, one or two weeks? Told her something being a threat to Emma – or this was at least the way she saw it. Which would ruin everything for her. And which Linda therefore could never be allowed to tell anyone else.

 

-The key to this whole ... affair ... is that Linda was ... that Linda was not … nice. The word came for want of a better one. -Some would consider her – yes, a little sadistic. I don’t mean in a physical sense, she immediately added. -But I think she enjoyed to control people around her. She picked herself – call them victims if you like. Got to know their secrets. Which she used to tease or harass them whenever it suited her. Giving her a feeling of power over them.

 

-I guess we come back to your police shrink again. She smiled across the table at Mai. -And then I knew of other cases – or at least one case – which close-to ruined another person here at the club.

 

Celia suddenly realized that three of the others around the table did not know the story. She had told Simon about Laura in the schoolyard yesterday morning – except for her relationship to Peter, even though she was uncertain why she left that part of it out. She was surprised to hear Philip speak once more.

 

-I’m sure you are referring to Laura. He activated one of his charming dimples as he looked at her. -I know that Sonia, you and ... He found it somewhat unfitting to include Emma. -... spoke with her down here in the locker room. You understand – she called me early yesterday. Told me everything. Had decided during the night to do that.

 

He let his eyes move around the two tables. -I trust you not to let this go any further. Laura was the senior team’s accountant for many years. She took money – rather a lot. She didn’t know how – but in some way Linda got to know about what she’d done.

 

The second dimple was a signal to Celia to resume her story.

 

Now I better understand why Laura was in a fairly good mood when I fetched the locker room key yesterday afternoon.

 

-Linda was on to Laura at least twice – on one of the occations I sat myself watching – by the fence in a break at one of our trainings. Laura was scared fearing Linda would tell ... someone in the club – and by that making her lose everything she’s got here.

 

-I would kindly ask you to – at least officially – forget what we just told. Philip was addressing Mai directly now. -The club will not press charges. Together with our main accountant we’re going to set up a plan for her to pay it all back. She will be part of our club for the time to come. She’s got a lot of contributions to make – among others together with Celia here.

 

-The curious thing is … There was a touch of wonder in Celia’s voice – she was talking more to herself than to the others around the table. -I’m in no way certain that Linda would have been too eager to disclose the secrets of Laura or Emma any further - to do so would be to lose the control she loved to have.

 

She paused for a brief moment before continuing. - Even if we know that she spoke to ... Anyway - Emma viewed it ... differently.

 

-And Peter had to pay with his life because he detected something about the killing of Linda? Christine put the coffee cup she had been sipping from on the tabletop in front of her. -Did he see Emma meddling with the tropical juice? Or maybe that she put the poisoned bottle down into the training bag over at the sales booth?

 

-Peter didn’t see a thing. Except maybe for a photo which Linda showed him.

 

Celia leaned forward catching Mai’s eyes. -You explained to me the three different ways in which Peter might be involved. That he observed or guessed something about the murder of Linda, as Christine suggests – and that was what we believed – at first. Or that there was no connection between the two killings.  Or – that Linda and Peter were killed for ... exactly the same reason.

 

-I became more and more convinced that the last option was the right one. But if so there had to be something connecting Linda and Peter – an activity or other setting in which they both took part.

 

There was absolute silence in the cafeteria. No sipping of coffee. No cakes. No buns. However, Celia chose to take a detour.

 

-Peter knew the same thing as Linda – about Emma. And he couldn’t let be taking advantage of it – the way he saw it. But Peter was no ... semi-sadist ... like Linda. He was – what would your shrink call it, Mai? --- a person enjoying life for what it’s worth. Who was keen to have – or take – whatever he could get. So I’m convinced that Peter – at least indirectly – asked for money in return for keeping his mouth shut. Emma in fact hinted at him doing so at our encounter down here last night.

 

-She made another appointment – and once again in the women’s locker room. On an evening when she knew it would not be used. I think she made an honest attempt at persuading Peter – explaining to him the situation she was in – why things had turned out the way they were – to get him over to her side. She actually tried the same approach with me – yesterday. But he wouldn’t listen. And she’d come prepared – she had brought her hammer.

 

Again it seemed like she was talking mostly to herself. -It wouldn’t in any case have worked using poison to get rid of Peter – not after the first killing, and which everyone was aware of. So she took her hammer and hit his head – the same way she tried ... on us ... yesterday ... she lifted the hammer, and ...

 

All of a sudden her upper body was shaking vehemently, and at the same time she placed both elbows so hard onto the tabletop as to seemingly cause pain – the expression in her face telling that she was back in the locker room the night before.

 

Simon and Mai reacted simultaneously. Simon put his left hand fast, but softly on one of her forearms, while Mai touched and held the other one. -Celia – look at me. Mai tried to catch her eyes. -You are here with us. It is over.

 

She seemed to come around – her body relaxed, and she leaned onto the backrest of her chair. Simon slowly withdrew his hand. Her thoughts though were still in the women’s locker room. She looked abruptly over at Mai.

 

-It was a … piece of good luck … that Sonia came – last night …

 

A huge smile emerged on Mai’s face – while she was lightly shaking her head. -It was no luck, Celia. You may thank your friend sitting next to you for that.

 

Simon flinched as Celia turned her head staring at him. He was planning to tell her about his phone call, but in some way he had not yet found a suitable occasion to do so. He avoided meeting her eyes looking instead down on the tabletop.

 

This time he looks like a big kid being caugt in the act.

 

-It’s… true. His words came through softly and close-to stutteringly. -I called her on my way ... right before. I was ... afraid. You see, Celia – I’m not a ... hero.

 

Images from the locker room were passing like a stream in front of her eyes. One moment seemingly far away, then all of a sudden tightly close. Simon throwing his body forward and grabbing the hand with the hammer – making it fall to the floor. Who’s being pushed forcefully by his opponent and tumbling backwards. Her own hands lifted to meet the blow of the hammer. Which does not come – as Simon appears once more to claim the attention of Emma.

 

You should let other people decide whether you are a hero or not, Simon.

 

But it was merely inside her.

 

-Excuse me for ... wandering about. The rest of them around the table understood that Celia was back and ready to go on.

 

-There was one relation connecting Linda and Peter. Peter was training Michael – the son of her new boyfriend. And there was even a particular event they’d shared – at which both of them were taking part.

 

-He said something strange to me after a training session – that it happens that you get to know things you were not meant to know. He was talking about Linda and Michael. And the cup they went to. The overnight cup. Two or three weeks before the cup at our club.

 

Celia pushed her right hand into the inner pocket of her new winter jacket and picked up her phone. It was a couple of years old, but it was more than good enough for her. She swiped to make the front page appear then performing a couple of touches and key entries.

 

-I always came back to the overnight cup. When I was pondering – when I was dreaming – and when we sat speaking with each other here in the cafeteria, Mai. But I linked it to Mariam’s dad. Or else the father of Michael. But that was wrong.

 

-Linda and Peter went with the sixteen-year-olds to this cup. On the first night Linda found something out – yes, I know it happened that day, because it must have been before she called her ex-man later in the night. She told Peter what she had discovered, certainly as well during the same evening or night – as I figured Peter, they were speaking rather a lot together up there.

 

She enlarged the MMS image  and placed her mobile on the table in front of her.

 

-Come over here – so you can watch properly. This is a photo of a picture hanging on the wall in the cafeteria in the club house up there. Here is the queen of gymnastics with her big trophy cup. She is a national champion. Can you see the girls behind her? – those are her club mates. To the far left – Linda immediately recognized her even though it’s a long time ago. I think she’s about twenty. And as you can see – Emma is not the one being the gymnast queen.

 

-What do they call it? --- to live a lie? The girl who was a great champion – who was a queen – but who came here and chose to put her efforts and use her spare time to run this – fairly small – club of ours. The club which – as time passed – became her life.