Celia

Chapter 31

Celia and Christine at the cafe

 

-I always loved them. Celia put her autumn jacket around the back of the free chair, sat down and grabbed one of the cakes from the small plate. The arrival smile was still turned on. But as she was about to swallow the first piece, a sudden change set in. There was a contraction of her eyes, the corners of her mouth were tightening against her teeth while the colour of her cheeks slightly altered as they started to be fed by wettening streams.

 

-Excuse me, Christine. It’s just not working. I ... She paused for a moment, and her eyes seemed to widen a little again. -It’s on and off. I can cope for a while – push it away, I guess - but then ... when it comes back ...

 

-Celia, It’s me you’re sitting with now. You know me. I know you. Leave all excuses. And weep if you have to – it’s almost empty in here, and in case the cafe was crowded, it wouldn’t matter anyway. And God knows you have been through more than most of us.

 

Celia seemed to relax somewhat and managed to once again raise a tiny smile – more genuine-looking this time.

 

-You want me to tell about what ... happened last night? Her voice was pitched somewhere between a question and a statement.

 

-Yes, I admit that. I’m going to write about it for tomorrow’s paper.

 

She tried to catch the eyes of the eighteen-year-old sitting opposite to her. She did not quite make it, so she carefully grabbed Celia by her left forearm – placed on the small table alongside the cake plate. -There is one matter much more important than the paper, she went on. -You. Right now the most important thing is how you are doing.

 

There was silence for a while. So Christine was the one to continue.

 

-You were coaching with Peter, that’s right?

 

Christine perceived the hurt look in Celia’s eyes as she pronounced his name.

 

There is something here. Not just a coaching colleague. I was afraid of that.

 

She decided to ask directly.

 

-You were ...fond of him, weren’t you?

 

The small twist of Celia’s head and the eyes looking down on the table top confirmed Christine’s assumption. So she had to take it one step further. -Not ... more than that?

 

There was the slightest suggestion of a smile at the left corner of her mouth as Celia softly shook her head. -Not …

 

She was about to say «Not me», but she held back. -I was glad whenever he said something nice to me, she opted instead – the tone of her voice being rather quiet but straightforwardly honest.

 

Christine made another decision.

 

-Celia – what I’m to tell you now may hurt. I’m sure it will sound terrible. You are free to get angry with me. Shout at me if you have to. Hold it against me. Get up and leave if that’s what you’ll feel.

 

She hesitated for a few seconds – not sure if it was intended or not. 

 

-He wasn’t worth your feelings, Celia. There have been ... stories. Some of them even ...

 

She was weighing her words.. -… rather discomforting.

 

There were no shouts. No talking back. Not even fresh tears. Just a few short words. -Are ... you sure?

 

But I know by myself that she’s right. I think I’ve been aware for a while. Tanya. Why do I suddenly pity Tanya?

 

-You know, I’m just a tiny bit younger than him. We were at school together.

 

Celia reacted instinctively. -You and …

 

-No, no. Christine shook her head rather vigorously. -Even though he was of course … charming – I have to admit that. But there were some …

 

The look in Celia’s eyes had changed from hurt to inquisitive.

 

-… affected rather badly.

 

-I’m not going to give you any names. And it does not make any difference now. And yes ... he did have some positive traits as well.

 

Some sharp barks from outside made them both look out of the window. A somewhat elderly lady was about to park a small black and white dog to a short railing put up exactly for this purpose. It did not like it. A couple of seconds later there was another squeaking of the front door – the dog owner entered and walked straight to the counter.

 

-It was a coincidence ... me being there. Celia sensed a feeling of calm beginning to push out some of the chaos inside. Even though the sadness and pain was in no way gone.

 

It will be like this for a while. I’m aware of that. I will have to live with it. And the fact that he did not ... Maybe he had some respect for me? Did not want to destroy anything? Or it would have come to it? ... eventually?

 

She shook it off. -It was after our training. My own. I walked over to where the sales booth was set up at the cup. I think I wanted to have a look at how ... everything could be seen from there.

 

Christine was close to comment on the fact that Celia was actively checking around. With a heart to find out of things. Warn her. But she held back.

 

It won’t do any good. I know her. She has got it in her head. And she is not going to quit. I must rather try to look after her – when there is something at hand.

 

-Then I heard the scream. From a woman. A few minutes before I had seen Beatrice and Tanya walking down to the junior boys at the square. But it was none of them crying.

 

-It was one of the women’s first team players, Christine intervened.

 

There were a couple of more squeaks from the door. The dog lady slipped out carrying a small plastic bag – certainly there was to be take-away today, for her as well as her black-and-white friend. Enthusiastic barks marked her appearing at the outside.

 

Christine was sitting quietly listening as Celia – by now in a remarkable calm manner – recounted her recollections of the evening before – how she fought her way past the junior players, Johnny asking her to stop but not preventing her, Johnny bringing her back out, the drive home, and – Peter with his head against the edge of the corridor bench. But she did not mention Simon.

 

-The image of his blank eyes – that’s the worst part, she concluded her tale.

 

-Turn it off.

 

Even if it’s easy for me to say, Christine thought after pronouncing the three short words.

 

Then she decided to return to where Celia had started – some indefinite sensing inside her telling there was something important.  -Why did you want to see ... things ... from the sales booth?

 

-The tropical juice. Strong and tasty. I figure the poison was in the juice. Samir served her – from a bottle which had been brought straight from the cafeteria. And no one else got anything to drink from it.

 

She hesitated for a second. -It may sound like accusing someone – I don’t mean it like that. The guy named Philip  - I think he is someone high up in the club – came there with the bottle just before Linda got her paper cup with juice from it. You know who he is?

 

-He called me an hour ago, Christine smiled. -About yesterday.

 

-But it’s unreasonable, isn’t it? she continued after a brief pause thinking. -The poison may have been in the cup, but it could not have been in the bottle. If so the one who put it in there would risk poisoning a lot of people – these bottles are rather large, aren’t they? And just about anyone - how could he ... or she ... know that Linda wanted tropical juice – at the sales booth?

 

She is of course right. But then? Samir? – no, that is impossible.

 

-I promised Samir to talk to the police about it. You see, that police woman – Mai’s her name – called me a couple of days after the cup.

 

There was a sharpening of the look in Christine’s eyes. Isn’t that a bit special? -I talked to her today as well, was nevertheless her only comment.

 

-Christine – after the first one … I thought it might almost be anybody – there were a lot of people at the cup. But now ... it must be one of ... us ... at the club – if the two ... I mean ... are connected. And what was Peter doing in the women’s locker room?

 

I do not want to know. I do not want to think. Damn it, Peter.

 

-And it must have been awfully risky. With the junior boys outside and everything.

 

That was the first thought striking me as well, Christine noted by herself.

 

Putting her hand into the pocket of her autumn jacket Celia picked up her mobile and looked at the phone clock.

 

-It may of course have happened some time earlier. Before the juniors. I think I’ll be on my way home.

 

-Mom’s a little worried, she went on as to explain. -And she is home by now. It was ... I’m glad you called. And that we could talk – I needed it.

 

Christine placed both elbows on the cafe table top leaning forward. -Celia, if you have any thoughts whatever you want to share – call me or send me a message. I promise I will do the same to you. And ...

 

She paused for a few seconds. -… I’m not going to warn you. I know what you’ve got inside you too well to do that. But ... promise me you will watch out and take care.

 

Christine’s eyes followed Celia as she rounded the cafe counter, opened the squeaking door and went out. They waved to each other through the window before Celia disappeared up the sloping street.

 

She is a girl you can get genuinely fond of.

 

Christine pulled out her backsack with her right foot, picked up her laptop and placed it on the table.

 

I’ll sit here making a draft for tomorrow’s paper. The cafe people won’t object to it. I have done it before. While it’s all fresh inside my head.

Chapter 32

Celia narrating and inquiring

 

Police-Mai beat her to it – later in the afternoon. Celia looked down at her cell phone following the call signal and recognized the number on the screen.

 

She is not calling from an unlisted number. She’s using the one she gave to me. She wants me to see who’s making contact.

 

Celia pulled her curled legs out of the sofa corner, picked up the mobile and tapped the image of the green telephone receiver on her way up the stairs to her room.

 

-You have to tell me if it is not convenient. I know it’s a bit special that I call you like this. This time as well.

 

She came straight to the point. -But I wanted to speak with you as early as possible. I know you were there – and that you ... saw him. The last two words were pronounced a little softer.

 

She had received a somewhat reluctant clearance from her boss to maintain this contact – making a promise to proceed very prudently. And given the nature of the situation none of them wanted to bring the young girl in for any kind of questioning.

 

-I’s just fine that you call me. Celia paused for a moment thinking. -In fact I was considering ringing you to talk about ... something – to tell ... something.

 

Some noise from the outside corridor as Kelvin was on his way to their blue bathroom. Has he been sleeping till now?

 

-Do that, Celia. But first can you tell me – in your own way – your recollections from last night. The way I heard it you were an early eye witness. Do you think you can cope with that? – I know it is difficult.

 

Celia did not answer the question, but started to tell how she had experienced it all – from leaving her training session until being taken home in the car. This time she included Simon as well.

 

I can’t create any problems mentioning him to Mai. And he was there – he is a witness.

 

The police woman took notice of one small detail. -You were there a little before we did  – and you’re saying that the blood in his face was clotted. But that there was at some patch ... fresher blood?

 

-I am not sure. Excuse me, Mai, I’am afraid I did not see everything clearly. But on the image in my head there is a spot which is – well, as you say ... fresher. Maybe it’s just in my mind.

 

-We know he had been lying there for a while. It may have been a delayed bleeding – it happens. The last comment was directed more to herself than to Celia.

 

The sound from the shower being turned on could be heard the few yards through the corridor and into Celia’s room. She huddled sideways in the bed with her mobile partly covered by the blankets hoping that the shower would not make it through to the police woman.

 

-One other small thing. You said that the cafeteria was opening as you were leaving the training field. Are you sure of that?

 

-Yes, because a man was coming out of the door putting up the «cafeteria-is-open» sign as I went past. Is it important?

 

She did not get any response to the short question. Instead Mai addressed Celia’s opening remark.

 

-You said you were thinking of telling me something.

 

-It’s probably ... quite out of line. And I suppose I’ve not been thinking right. But I promised someone to talk to you about it. It’s about ... the first time.

 

Celia made a small break, but the phone kept silent. Mai was waiting for her to continue.

 

-The tropical juice. And the bottle. Linda was served juice from a bottle brought from the cafeteria to the booth – and no one else got anything to drink from it.

 

She went on to tell about her chat with Samir, and she also mentioned the immediate reaction from Christine.

 

-You see – I was wondering if … She sensed a tiny feeling of seeming silly. -… maybe she drank the poison from the cup of juice.

 

There was some time before Mai’s voice came through the cell phone. She appeared to be busy at something on her side. -Hang on a bit, Celia, she said eventually, -I’m checking my computer here.

 

It was approaching a minute later when she was back.

 

-I'm browsing through the investigation notes from the first death. It’s all here.

 

A further pause. -Celia, what I’m telling you now is confidential. You must not tell anyone unless I give you permission to do it. I shouldn’t tell you. But somehow I’ve come to have a kind of ... trust in you. 

 

I wonder if she’s asking me to give her a promise. I’m not the kind of person chatting with anyone about everything.  But even so I cannot promise.

 

-You may be right regarding the tropical juice, Mai went on as there was no response from Celia on her opening remarks. -Its taste is strong enough to conceal the flavour left by the poison.  Possibly contrary to what would be the case with coffee. But at the same time I agree with your paper friend – it’s unlikely that the whole bottle was poisoned.

 

Celia kept quiet waiting to hear what Mai was not supposed to tell anyone.

 

-I’ve got all documents and notes from the case on my computer here. Our forensic technicians took samples from all «probable sources of poisoning», as they name it.  That includes among other things any open items found at the cafeteria or the sales booth. The results from the lab show that no traces of poison were found – not anywhere. But there’s something a bit strange about what you are telling me. They are all listed here – orange juice cartons, coffe pots, soda bottles and so on. But there is no mention of any open bottles of tropical juice.

 

-They are meticulous, she continued. -I cannot image they would miss such a bottle had it been placed in the sales booth.

 

Celia protested. -But Samir is not making this up – I’m sure of that. And Simon said the same thing.

 

She regretted immediately. She had not intended to bring Simon into it.

 

-No, she heard Mai from the phone speaker. -I do not think that your friends made it up.

 

-But probably the opened bottle was not any longer in the booth when our people came along.

 

I should make her quit.

 

A creepy feeling – of ominent danger – was suddently crawling into Mai’s mind causing her to stop.

 

She should not be occupied with this. She ought not to be thinking about it. It is more dangerous than she realizes. And now I’m busy inspiring her. I have to warn her.

 

But it will not help. It’s in her head now.

 

Her thoughts suddenly wandered some years back in time. When she on an early March afternoon told her mom and dad that she had just applied for admission to the police university college.  It was probably the very last choice they were expecting.  So reactions were strong. Even stronger than she had counted on. And even though they usually tried to speak with her using their adopted language, the protests and attempts at persuading her to reconsider came in Vietnamese. It might perhaps be true that police officers were not among the professionals of highest esteem in their native country.

 

You cannot become a police officer. None of us are in the police. You will get involved in a lot of unhealthy environments. And it’s poorly paid. A lot of corruption. It is good that you want an education.  But why not a pharmacy apprentice? – or nurse? – or even a school teacher. You have got talents – you can manage.

 

She could still hear daddy’s voice.

 

-And besides – only men are police officers, mom had added. It sounded like being the worst part of it all.

 

But she was determined. She had it in her head. And slowly her parents got used to it – at first in the course of her years at school and then gradually as she moved away from home to take on a police job.

 

So I skip the warning. Celia will go on whatever I say. It’s better helping her when I can. And she actually does help me.

 

Mai was not aware how long her mind had been wandering detaching her from their dialogue – how long the phone line had been silent.

 

-Celia – I have to hang on. Thanks for speaking with me. And ...

 

She held in for a brief moment before continuing.

 

-I think I recognize ... some part of you ... in myself.

 

She realized that she was getting personal. -So I won’t even ask you to take care of yourself. But promise me one single thing – and this promise must be absolute. Once you get to know something,  discover something, find out of something, make contact with me immediately. You can call this number at any time – day or night.

 

Even though she did not right away quite digest these last words from Mai, Celia all of a sudden felt like coming on more strong.

 

-Mai – I understand if you cannot give any answer to what I’m going to ask you now. But do you know ... how the two ... are connected? Why did Peter have to – why did it have to happen ... to Peter?

 

Celia had got used to her phone having occasional silent breaks.

 

-There are three possibilities. Mai was clear when she finally responded. No reservations. Straight to the point.

 

-Either he saw or heard something during or before the cup – being substantial enough to expose what happened – possibly connected to the poison. Our killer gets to know this – that might be from Peter himself. So he had to be done away with. Maybe this is the most probable connection – at least the way I see it now.

 

-Another possibility is that Peter and Linda were killed for the same reason – they were both an obstacle or a threat to the one doing it. This is a thought assuming there is a connection to some common ground between these two – in that case we have to find this link.

 

-The third theory is that the two deaths are independent of each other. This might on the face of it seem like an improbable coincidence, but it is an option we have to keep an open mind to.

 

The dialogue symbol on her phone changed colour. No «goodbye». Celia remained lying in her bed while thoughts were whirling around in her head. The sound from the shower was gone and instead she could here Kelvin’s muted voice – a popular song of a few years back. Like the twisted performance coming through from a somewhat remote outdoor concert.

 

Celia sensed a small smile raising onto her cheeks.

 

Have I got a new friend? Or at least someone I can speak with?

 

A sudden relaxed and comforting feeling was about to flow into her mind and then to reverbarate through her body. Without her quite realizing why.

Chapter 33

The corner store lady

 

They nearly collided at the rather narrow door leading into the corner store. Mariam was on her way out holding a small partly uncovered chocolate bar in her left hand as Sara took her first step onto the two-step stone stairs. Sonia, who had just let go of holding her daughter’s hand and remained standing on the edge of the sidewalk, could hear the father’s voice inside.

 

-Wait, Mariam – I have to pay. And don’t run into the road.

 

The two girls stopped for a moment on the stairs having a brief look at each other. Not more than that. At times they spotted one another coming to or from a training. But they did not know each other. And they went to different primary schools.

 

Sonia on the other hand smiled a «hi» and got an equivalent return. -What’s your name? the girl went on, after having swallowed the current piece of chocolate.

 

Sara was already inside the corner store.

 

Sonia smiled to Mariam and said her name. She was impulsively about to pat the girl’s head, but managed to hold back.

 

They are not as small as we think they are. So I’d better be careful.

 

She felt comfortable getting into the shop. A slight drizzle in the air and a rather fresh autumn wind made it cool outside.

 

The eleven-year-old’s father was finished doing his payment and picked up the few items he had purchased in addition to the chocolate bar. He produced a small nodding smile as his greeting before hurrying out through the door – it was evident that he wanted to get out to Mariam as quickly as possible.

 

-He has got her back now. Protects her a little too much. I guess she’s coming into her teens?

 

It was one of the more old fashioned stores. Located in a small side street, but nonetheless close enough to a main thoroughfare somewhat farther down for many people to come past and make a visit. Sonia considered close-to knowing the lady behind the counter, since she was one of those most frequently on duty here – and it had been like that from the time they moved to this neighbourhood. They normally exchanged a few extra words – at least if there was no queuing for the cash desk. And the corner store was not that far from home.

 

Not like one of those chain stores – in which everything looks alike and you are always being served by some underpaid youngster.

 

-I hope it’ll turn out fine for them, Sonia said. -It must be a tough time – for both of them.

 

Sara and Sonia were the only ones outside the counter at the moment. -Fortunately kids are good at adapting, she continued after pausing briefly – looking over to her daughter who was busy selecting some sweets for the afternoon from a shelf a few yards off.

 

Why do my thoughts over again flow back – twenty-five years or so? Maybe that was the time – the days – shaping me into what I’ve become.

 

-If only she does not need to adapt one more time.

 

The follow-up remark made Sonia have a somewhat sharper look across the counter. But the woman behind it had turned her body a little to straighten some papers lying on the desk beside her.

 

-Can I buy these? Sara had finished her picking. Sonia looked down at what the girl was holding in her hands. -It’s okay – put in on the counter.

 

-The other one came here yesterday. With his teenager son. He said that maybe they would have to move back.

 

-But I’m not so sure. Of course it depends.

 

Sonia decided not to pursue the shop lady’s initiative. But she sensed an aching feeling commencing somewhere within her as she greeted “good afternoon” and followed Sara out of the store.

 

They went down the small sloping hill to the main street. Yellowish leaves decorated the sidewalk – originating from the trees being planted alongside the curb at the one side they were walking. There were a little more than a hundred yards to go before they were to turn right into a slanting alley to reach the medium-sized apartment back home.

 

Sara was busy eating from a small cracker pack and seemingly did not notice her mom being unusually quiet.

 

-You should not eat those now. We will soon have real food. Take them after that.

 

But by then they were almost home.

 

It has been gnawing at me for a long time. Since the cup. Somewhere inside me. What is it?

 

-He has got her back now. She could hear the shop lady’s voice while she was walking below the trees at the edge of the main street sidewalk.

 

So what? I’m not someone to know what happened between them. He may have wished to get away.

 

Yes – but not from Mariam?

 

-We travelled to a cup last weekend. With the boys at sixteen.

 

-Right now it’s the sixteen-year-old boys and the girls at fifteen.

 

How many voices can there be inside my head – at the same time?

 

But if Linda took part in a cup with the son of her new boyfriend, then surely his father was there as well? Sonia knew he had practically – or close to – been moving in with her into the terraced house.  If Mariam’s dad was the owner of it? - at least by half?

 

That does not create any motive for doing away with Linda.

 

If something happened at the cup they travelled to? Might she have changed her mind?

 

My thoughts - they are just speculations. But still – there must be something here.

 

- He has got her back now.

 

She stiffened and stopped short for a moment moving up the stairs to their apartment as she heard the shop lady’s voice echoing inside her once more.

 

The image of the eleven-year-old and her dad walking up the club stairs to the training session. They might have come past the locker room area. Where Peter was headed a few minutes earlier.

 

So it is the other way round? – did he want to get ...

 

No. It cannot be as terrible as that. Besides it was on the evening before. And Mariam was with him.

 

Armin met them at the door with a big smile giving both of them a warm hug as they came into the  hallway.  

 

I have got my life exactly as I want it. I’m better off than I ever dreamt of. I must never lose this – not at any cost.

Chapter 34

The fifteen-year-old girls

 

It’s good to have normal activity at our club ground again.

 

Emma reached the old age-worn wooden table after the few yards from the cafeteria. She sat down on one of the two semi-circle shaped benches.

 

But we did right when deciding to cancel all matches and training sessions for some days after finding Peter in the locker room. Even after the police finished their business here.

 

There were people in the cafeteria, but the volunteer parent was taking care of the sales, so she was free to take a break. A little chilly sitting still, but then she wasn’t planning to stay out for long.

 

A match between two boys’ sides – eigh-year-olds, she believed – was about to get going at the far end of the pitch. And parents of these kids were the ones currently visiting the cafeteria for a coffee or a piece of cake.

 

Right across the fence from her the junior girls were arriving for their training – possibly their first one after the tragic incident.  And that was why she had come out – to have a talk with the junior coach – Laura.

 

Her glance fell to the tabletop – and her eyes started to follow the scars, the marks, the wear and the shifting colour patterns being the result of outdoor use for a lot of years.

 

I remember well when we put up this table with the benches. I guess it was more than twenty years ago? Just after we started running the cafeteria. None of the others at the club today were around at that time. Well – Johnny of course. He was indeed the one fixing the table. Together with me.

 

Maybe we should upgrade a little out here? – get something new. But then – this table has nearly become some kind of trademark for us. Like the club stairs.

 

It was as if the old woodwork triggered her stream of thought. Images of happenings, occurences and situations – many of them dating back a considerable number of years – appeared before her eyes. She suddenly sensed sitting on the bench smiling by herself – and with a kind of nice feeling inside.

 

I’m happy for all the things I’ve been a part of. And a bit proud as well. Like when we decided to focus on girls’ soccer. I think that achievement is much to my credit. Before that – when I first came here – there was almost exclusively men’s football in the club. Now we’ve got close-to the same number of girls’ teams as there are boys’ teams.

 

That was just after we dropped going forward with gymnastics. Just as well – as it turned out to be difficult recruiting the young ones to such an activity in this area.

 

It is important for us to take our next step now. Put these bad days behind us and look forward. To build our club even further. Vital for us all. And for me.

 

That’s why it’s so good to see that matches and training sessions are going on as normal out here.

 

-Laura, can you come and sit here for a moment? Emma lifted her right hand waving to the young coach who had just ascended the stairs and was on her way towards the small gate leading onto the pitch.

 

-I’ll come straight to the point, she continued when Laura was sitting opposite to her – with her gear bag parked on the gravel. -We want you to take the main responsibility for the fifteen-year-old girls – the ones Peter was coaching. At least for the time being. Should it turn out to be too much work for you, we will have to think of something else. But it’s important that we do not extend the current training pause any longer ... for the girls.

 

She had suggested this solution to Johnny and Philip the evening before. And received their full support. As long as Laura could find time and was willing to take the task.

 

Emma noticed the immediate reaction with Laura – a small twitch of her right cheek and her glance shifting to one side, staying there for a few seconds. But she was not able to interprete it. Was Laura too surprised by the proposal? Or is there something else?

 

Their dialogue – well, the talking was mostly on Laura’s part – as they entered the cafeteria together ... on the cup day. Bits and pieces. -... be left alone ... mind their own business ...

 

But not anything substantial. And she got no time to ask her. Or maybe she did not want to either.

 

There is something on Laura’s mind. Tormenting her. Something she’s done? – or been subject to?

 

-It came rather unexpected. By now Laura was looking straight across the table at Emma displaying a tiny smile. -But it might be fun. I guess I can do it – and got the time for it. May I have a few hours to think? --- then I’ll call you later tonight – I think I got your phone number.

 

She turned her head when she was about to open the gate in the fence. It was evident that she wanted to say some more, but she hesitated a few moments before doing so.

 

-He has used one of my junior girls as his assistant coach – will she ... keep on?

 

-I... yes, I believe she will.

 

I have to talk to the young girl as well. She certainly would like to continue. I guess I’ve taken that for granted. Unless she and ...

 

No. I cannot think like that. But I want the definite response from Laura first.

 

The junior coach was just starting to explain today’s drills to her players as Emma got up from the wooden bench and  walked slowly back to the cafeteria.

Chapter 35

A man in for questioning

 

-Celia! Have you seen?

 

Celia was heading for the small crossing after passing the entrance of Linda’s house. Beatrice came half running down the hill from the houses above.

 

-They have arrested him. It was him ... doing it.

 

She had to stop to breathe just before they ran into each other. She kept – as usual – her cell phone in her right hand.

 

Celia looked straight at her school mate as she came up to her. -What do you mean – who’s been arrested?

 

But in her mind she immediately caught what Beatrice meant. And she sensed the discomforting feeling crawling in.

 

-Linda’s ex of course. You remember I told you right away – the next day. She ended it – he was pissed and beat her to death.

 

-She was poisoned, Beatrice.

 

-Okay – poisoned then. Whatever. It’s in all the online news. Have a look!

 

Celia pulled the backsack off her right shoulder and opened the small back pocket to pick up her phone.

 

-Why do you always have it stuffed away? I never see you with your mobile – everyone else are walking around holding it in their hand all the time – and earpieces.

 

She is right. Maybe I’m a little different. But I’m using it when I want to – and have to.

 

She spotted the news at once as she tapped onto the web pages. «The club murders» – as several online media relished to name them – was a big news item.

 

Slowly sweeping down the current page Celia took notice of the essential points. He was called in for questioning late last afternoon. In order to witness. To assist in the investigation. And he’d stayed at the police station through the night.

 

She glanced instinctively up at the window of Linda’s living room. It was quiet – no lights on. So there was no one in the house.

 

-They don’t say he has been arrested, she protested tentatively. -He’s in for questioning – that’s something different.

 

But Celia knew by herself what it was bound to imply. She let her cell phone slide into the pocket of her jacket – neither her head nor body was bent on viewing or reading any further. Not here and now.

 

In any case I cannot trust what they’re writing in the online papers. They make things worse than they really are.

 

The last thought was mostly a consolation meant for herself.

 

-You killed her in order to get this house and live here with your little girl!

 

Michael’s father. She could hear his accusation as clearly as if being cried out right here where they were standing. On that evening she had been completely taken aback by his words.

 

-Celia, we have to go – I’m getting cold from standing here. Beatrice pulled the sleeve of Celia’s jacket. She was frequently not too good at checking temp and weather before dressing for the school day.

 

The creepiness inside was all of a sudden accompanied by an acute sting.

 

It should have been the first thing on my mind.

 

-Mariam! What have they done to Mariam? – she’s just got her father now.

 

She did not know to whom her question was addressed. Beatrice – assuming it was for her – shrugged her shoulders.

 

-Child Welfare, perhaps. I guess they’re around for things like this. She did not appear to care too much.

 

There was a somewhat unexpected sequal, though, as they had passed the crossing and were heading down the next street towards school.

 

-I nearly ended up there myself – once. Didn’t know then of course. Mom told me later on. They thought my dad was beating me.

 

Celia made no attempt at asking her any further. But the comments from Beatrice were piling on top of the rest. No – not that as well.

 

What have they done to Mariam? She’ll soon be about to go to school.

 

The first hours at school turned out long. Celia was glad none of the teachers asked her about anything, and that no group work – at which she had to be actively taking part – were scheduled for today. Just for short periods she was able to focus on what was happening around her.

 

But she had decided to wait until the long break. Then there would be time enough. She just hoped to get an answer. And that the line would not be busy.

 

Should I call Mai? She abandoned the thought immediately. I cannot interfere with her doings now. And the only thing I would be able to tell her, is what I overheard outside their house. Which will only make things worse.

 

So it has to be Christine.

 

-I almost thought you would ring earlier. The call was taken right away at the other end.

 

-I just got to know on my way to school. Even if I’m by now aware that it was in the online news already last night. I guess I’m not among the best at keeping my eyes on my phone at all times.

 

She was quiet for a moment. But she had to pose this question first. -Do you know what they ... have done to Mariam?

 

-They let her sleep overnight at the police station. Christine was informed. -I even think they followed her to school this morning.

 

-They’ve got people who are very good at events like this, she added after a brief pause.

 

Celia was not sure whether the response relieved the uneasiness inside her. But she could in any case do nothing about it. So she went on to the next issue – somewhat surprising herself by the conciseness at which she was able to address it.

 

-Do you now why they have him in for questioning? Do they think he was the one doing it? They must have some facts connecting him to ... the deaths.

 

Christine decided to be completely frank.  -Celia – some of what I’m telling you now is what I should call priviledged information. I received it from a young officer I’ve been talking to in some previous cases – not your police friend, I was unabe to get to her. This info has not been in the online news, and I’m not going to use it for our local paper either – unless they allow me. But I know you well enough to be certain that you will not tell anyone – and should you choose to use the info, it would be because you definitely have to.

 

-First there are text messages on Linda’s mobile. From her ex husband as well as from her boyfriend – which is of course natural enough. It has among other things to do with the house – they seem to have owned it jointly. The way it was presented to me he is writing in one of his messages that he intends to live there with his daughter – and that he will do anything to make it happen. The police regards it as at least bordering on being a threat.

 

-To Linda? Before the cup? Celia felt suddenly silly – of course it was before the cup if it was a message on Linda’s phone.

 

So Christine just let it go as an immediate reaction – and went on. -But the most grave point is, I think, that they made a match from biological samples – DNA if you like – collected in the women’s locker room. And he seems to have been listed – profile I think it’s called – in such a register.

 

-So Mariam’s dad had been in the women’s locker room? What was he doing there?

 

Christine chose not to reply this time either. When she once again heard Celia’s voice, she perceived a notable change.

 

She was on the brink of crying.

 

-I don’t know why, Christine, but I’ve always liked him. I’ve looked upon him as ... She was searching for the right word. - ... kind – as long as I can remember. And I don’t want Mariam to lose her father as well.

 

-But there is something I want to tell – something I ... saw and heard. I did not plan to tell anyone. Please – don’t take it further – if you don’t have to.

 

Christine listened with a sharpened mind as the sister of her ex – she’s trying to pull herself together now – described what she saw and heard half hiding behind the trash can shed outside the living room window of the terraced house flat.

 

The silence following Celia’s account lasted for a fairly long time.

 

-Celia. Christine tried to sound as clear and calm as possible when finally responding. -I think you should call the police woman you’ve been in touch with and tell her. And think through what I’m about to say now – if you have recounted what the two men said to each other correctly, and knowing you I’m positive that you’ve done so, I’m not sure that what you just told me will work in his disfavour. There is something here which is ... not right.

 

She heard the sound of the school bell through the telephone line. The long break was over.