Chapter 36
A family of ducks
She was the first one to be out of the school room as the last class of the day was finished. She went straight to the loo, remaining there until all activities in the corridor outside appeared to be over. This afternoon her mind was not set on listening to the theories of Beatrice on their way home.
As she finally came out, the corridor was empty – and out in the schoolyard just a couple of groups were lingering – none of them candidates for a walk-home company.
I’ll do a walk-round. I have to focus my thoughts. Try to find out what is right – and what’s not.
There was no conscious walking route in her mind, but in the crossing outside the school gate her legs started in a different direction from being homebound, and after a while she realized that they were taking her towards the small lake. She stopped short of turning the path downwards for the club ground – instead she continued to walk alongside the lake until reaching a tiny gravelled square at its far end, where a worn bench – seemingly not upgraded for a long time – was placed heading the waterfront.
We were here when we were kids. Mom, dad, Kelvin and me. A lot of times. It’s still the same bench.
Dad used to bring some bread and possibly some leftovers. By the edge over there I stood throwing the bread crumps to the ducks. There were always a lot of ducks. Other waterfowls as well. A few big swans. And geese. Dad corrected me when I named them «gooses». In his own special way.
And mom brought a couple of small goodie bags. For Kelvin and me. Which was probably helpful keeping two small kids patient.
Celia sat down on the bench and looked out across the water. Yellowish – and in between some half red – leaves were slowly flowing through the air to land on the surface – some of them on the gravel straight ahead of her as well.
The autumn has started to undress the trees.
I have to think logically. Push my feelings away. Find out what I do know – and where my reasoning will take me.
The dialogue – the quarrel – she had overheard outside the terraced house. She could repeat it inside her – word by word. And then what Christine told her in the long break call.
There’s something to do with the house. And Mariam? If each of them owned it by half, and provided they were still married. In that case I guess he will inherit her share – and own all of it? But if Linda wanted a divorce ...
-To Linda? Before the cup? She had felt silly following the rushed response during her chat with Christine.
Suddenly a thought flashed through her head.
The cup – it’s the wrong cup. She travelled to a cup with Michael. Obviously his dad must have been there as well. Was Mariam with them?
If they had agreed to ... marry? Meaning she would cut all ties. But so what?
She remembered Peter telling her about the overnight cup with the sixteen-year-olds. -I spoke rather a lot with her ... And what else did he say? … get to know things you were not meant to know?
Something happened between Linda and Michael’s father at that cup – I’m sure of it.
The theories of Police-Mai. Three possibilities. One of them that Peter and Linda were killed for the same reason – they were both an obstacle or a threat. It was not the main theory of the police. But they did go to the overnight cup together. That is a common ground.
Yet another thought struck her.
What if Linda showed Peter the mobile message from Mariam’s dad? Or the messages. -…get to know things you were not meant to know …
Surely they weren’t that close? But Peter – he has ... had ... a special knack for ...
All of a sudden the aching was there inside her. No. I don’t want to think a about it.
The setting of her mind shifted – to the cup at the club pitch. Once again she was standing on the artificial turf refereeing the match between the blue-ones and the yellow-ones.
Mariam's dad. He waved at me. Said «hi». He came from the direction of the club stairs. And if things are the way Mai believes, Linda as well came up from there a few minutes later. Not from the cafeteria.
They may have met – down at the square? Did she put her cup of juice down somewhere – for a moment? Did he ...
But what had Christine said?
- There is something here which is ... not right.
Celia could not quite see what that might be. Right now the only line of thought tearing down the construct of guilt she was about to build in her head, was the notion she used earlier speaking with Christine.
He is kind. He is not capable of doing such a terrible deed. And Mariam must not lose her dad as well.
But Christine is right. I have to call Mai. I’ll do it when I get back home.
-Hi Celia – sitting here by yourself? She had not noticed Simon coming along the lake to the tiny square – now he was standing right in front of her.
Just like that evening. The immediate thought flew through her head.
-I came up the path from the pitch – and fancied it looked like you on the bench. A short break. -I was thinking of talking to you ... anyway.
He took a few steps towards the waterfront and bent down to a squat. His eyes were shifting a couple of times between the ripples on the water and the girl on the bench.
-Excuse me for being so silly ... that afternoon. I was just standing there. I’m sorry for ... And I know that you ...
He stopped halfway through the sentence.
A tiny smile appeared on Celia’s lips. -No problem, Simon. It was a chock – for ... both of us – all of us.
You need not go about excusing yourself. There’s no reason you should do that.
The latter statement was only in her head.
A family of ducks had spotted Simon and decided to head for him. There was rather frequently food to be offered, and any such opportunity should be checked. Simon however did not have anything. But still sitting down he kept studying them for a while. Mom and dad – and two ducklings thus far into the autumn about to become grown-ups. Youngsters, he thought all of a sudden. Like Celia and me.
-Look at them. See how they stick together. He was not aware whether he was addressing Celia or himself. -I think they are just ... fine. At least that’s what comes to my mind. Even though they probably don’t realize it – or have the ability to do it. But all of this is theirs – this is what they’ve got – and I think they live their lives to preserve it.
Suddenly he turned his head, and there was a tentative laughter. -Animal philosopher – that’s fine, right?
-Just one week left till the school prom, he continued a few seconds later. -Are you coming?
This time he made it a direct question.
He was not sure whether the close-to imperceptible movement of her head was to be interpreted as shaking or nodding.
-I don’t know yet, Simon. Haven’t thought about it too much. There’ve been so ... many other things.
Simon rose from his squatting position and took a single step towards the bench. He looked down at her face a couple of yards off.
-I did mean it seriously ... that I’m sorry about … Peter. His voice was softer – and warmer? – than while he was expressing his duck family philosophies. -I know you were fond of him.
He turned quietly and started to walk back along the edge of the small lake. He did not ask her if she would like to come along. She remained sitting on the bench viewing him – once more she watched as his back turned steadily smaller.
Small Simon. No – not again.
A quack from one of the ducklings reached her. So they did talk to each other at times. She turned her eyes on the small family about to swim towards some reeds a little further off.
Simon is right. They know they belong here. They know they belong together. They are fine here. They don’t make any fuss about it. I’s just the way it is.
But what will mom and the ducklings do if duck dad suddenly is gone? Permanently?
She sensed the wetness present on her left cheek. A brief moment later her right one followed suit. Before long small streams were flowing slowly along a cold nose then to head for the tiny spots where the dimples should have been. She made no attempt at wiping it off. Simon was in any case too far away. And she did not know why it emerged right now – so she was left with no idea as to how she could stop it. Her mouth was still – there was no sound. Only her eyes pouring out the salty water which had been piling up inside.
Maybe the somewhat cold autumn weather was to blame for this being a rather quiet afternoon outside. So no strolling couples came by to be given a chance to wonder why a seemingly grown-up girl was sitting out weeping on an old bench at the uppermost end of the small lake.
Chapter 37
Discussions of a threesome
-I need to speak with them. Together all the better. Get them to tell me what they know – what they believe – what they think. Maybe something they have seen or heard.
Mai had been sitting in the visitor chair across the desk at the office of her boss in the early afternoon the day before.
-But if so I need to give something in return. I have to tell them things. Voice opinions. I have to trigger them.
The woman behind the desk was considerably older. She watched the young investigator thoughtfully.
That girl can reach as far as she ever wants. But I must look after her – make sure she does not go astray. Getting too eager.
-Is there anything in particular you plan to tell them? – or think you ought to tell?
-Not that I can put my finger on here and now. Maybe something related to what has happened these last twenty-four hours. More than has been written on the online news. But it’s difficult to know in advance – that’s why I need ... some freedom.
Mai’s superior decided to challenge her.
-I consider it not unlikely that the man currently here for questioning, will turn out to be our perpetrator, she said. -But if we find him to be innocent? --- then we are looking for someone else, og possibly a person linked to the club or its social surroundings.
She paused for a moment in order to catch the eyes of her colleague. It was absolutely necessary for her to be clear on this issue. -The two persons you want to discuss with – they might in that case be candidates? Well – I would say the eighteen-year-old is improbable as a suspect, but the other one? As far as I’ve understood she is closely connected to the club – and besides she was the cup manager with access to everything on the Saturday of the crime.
She could see that her challenge did not come as a surprise to her investigator. A few seconds passed before she answered – as calmly as before.
-Should it be like that, it will be even more important to make her talk. Then I must just be good enough with regard to what I give.
-What do you know about her?
-I’ve tried to check up on most persons central to the club environment. Sonia came to this country as a ten-year-old. Got a daughter the same age by now. No negative notes. Happily married – I guess that’s the phrase? Has started to engage herself in her daughter’s activities – in the club.
-So you immigrant girls are joining forces?
She let a soft smile spread across her face as she rose from her executive chair to come around the desk. Mai was wondering whether she ought to get up as well, but she remained seated while letting her eyes follow the movements of her boss – who continued until being close enough to put her left hand lightly on the shoulder of her subordinate.
-Mai – during the relatively few years we have been working together you’ve come close to earning my absolute trust. In particular that goes for the quality of your judgment. So you have my consent. But I have to advise you to tread carefully – use your judgment for whatever it’s worth. We need no unnecessary leaks. And even if we cannot give these two women any special status, let the meeting you set up with them have some kind of formal character – I mean just so it looks like a meeting.
So when Celia came home after her mind-activity trip to the small lake – having spent her homebound time contemplating how she was to tell the police woman about what she overheard outside the entrance of Linda’s house – Mai beat her to it. She was just about to close the front door when she heard the call signal. As usual the voice at the other end of the line went straight to the point.
-I would like to meet with you – to talk about what has happened. Could you do that tomorrow afternoon?
It came as so much of a surprise to Celia that she was unable to produce any reply during the brief pause the police woman gave her.
-I’m going to ask Sonia to come as well – yes, she’s the one who was in charge of the cup at the club, I suppose you know her or at least who she is.
The living room in the terraced house. The quarrel I overheard. I have decided to tell her. I can do it now.
But somehow she didn’t quite get herself to do it. Despite the mind preparations on her way home. So she just settled for accepting the time which Mai proposed for the next day. And observed that the dialogue icon turned red shortly afterwards.
It was Sonia who suggested that they might meet in the club’s cafeteria. As early as this in the afternoon it was not yet open, and Sonia had a key to the door. I guess the police still has one as well, she thought as her phone talk with Mai was finished.
They picked a table at the innermost corner of the cafeteria space, seating themselves as in a triangle.
It’s better like this. I’m not to sit at one side having the two others placed opposite me. Now we are sitting here as equals. This is a meeting. Not a questioning.
Sonia had arrived a few minutes early and spent the time to prepare a pot of coffee and get some cold water and soft drinks from the cafeteria fridge. A light comment about poisoning was close to slipping from her tongue, but luckily she managed to stop it.
Yes – I was right – my thoughts about the young girl. I can see it in her eyes. But still – she appears a little more ... vulnerable ... than I imagined.
-I have asked for this meeting because I want all three of us to talk – about what has happened and is happening. Put our minds together. Try to find out of things together. I want you to share with me what you know – of which I might not be aware. Even share your thoughts and ideas. Then I will try – as far as I can – to be honest with you as well.
Mai had rethought this opening remark several times. It was important for her to find a common ground and purpose for all three of them right from the start.
Sonia immediately grasped the most current talking-point issue. -We have of course both of us read and heard that you have ... Mariam’s father ... down at your place. She avoided to use «arrested» as well as «questioning». -Do you believe he is the one you are looking for?
Mai was unable to let be smiling. -Now you are challenging my honesty right away, she answered. -I am not going to tell you anything untrue. Even so I’m not at liberty to share all my – or our – thoughts. What I can say is that we consider him a suspect.
-And, she added seeing the reaction in Celia’s face, -he is not with us any longer. He was allowed to go home earlier today.
-And Mariam? It was an instinctive follow-up from Celia.
-She is staying with those who have taken care of her since the day before yesterday. For the time being I think that’s for the best for both of them. But he will visit them this afternoon. And you must believe me, Celia – I know the woman having the primary responsibility, and she is the most competent person you could think of to handle the relation between them the way things are at the moment.
-I have something to tell you. I should probably have told you before. Something I saw. And heard. It was before ... Peter ...
Celia had made up her mind that this was the right time. And from her talks with Mai so far she knew that she could now expect the police woman to listen carefully to what she said without interruping until she finished her story. She tried to recount the event and the words being said as exactly as possible – it was in fact not too hard, as it was still like playing a short film residing inside her head.
-The worst part is, she added after finishing her tale, -that this makes things look bad for him. You see, Mai, I want him to be innocent. He is ... kind, and ... Mariam.
Mai refrained from commenting how many kind persons or parents of young children had turned out to be guilty of manslaughter or other terrible crimes.
-But Christine said something strange when I told her about what I heard. That maybe it wasn’t the way I thought. That something did not ... add up. But I cannot figure out ... how it could be that way.
A couple of small wrinkles on her forehead displayed the focal mind of the police woman. -Maybe, she eventually commented. -I have to think some more about it. And – we can of course ask her.
Another sentence from her phone chat with Christine presented itself in Celia’s head. Her resulting question broke into a set of piece-wise keywords. -Biological trace … Mariam’s … locker room?
Is she guessing? – or has someone at the station been talking? To the journalist?
Mai decided to be as honest as she could. -Be careful about what I’m about to say, but yes – he has been visiting the locker room. But it might have been earlier. They use some space rather close to the door for storing some common gear for the female teams, and he ...
What might be expected to conclude her response, was never pronounced.
She does not want to say any more about this. But I got an answer. Even though I’m not quite certain what it means.
-There’s one thing which has been puzzling me somewhat. Sonia changed the topic. -Poisoning and striking – with a hammer? – against the head. So different ways of doing it. But maybe it’s just in the crime stories that the killer ... She stopped without finishing the sentence.
Mai took her time to taste Sonia’s coffee. That’s just what coffee is there for – to create useful breaks.
-You recall, Celia, that we talked on the phone about possible connections. One option being that the two crimes have nothing to do with one another. What you’re pointing to here, Sonia, is favouring this line of thought. And there is something else.
She focused on Celia trying to choose her words carefully.
-I hope this will not cause you too much pain, Celia, because I know the two of you were coaching a team together, and that you may have been ... close to him. This is not information to be made public - unless it has to. But there are people out there who had reason to ... dislike him ... strongly – we were even involved on one occasion.
-Girls? Celia’s response was mostly for herself.
-And possibly parents? Sonia picked up the thread. She remembered her thoughts as he caught her eyes while chatting with her by the side line – before going down to the locker room area – on the last whole day on which he was alive. -Somewhat strange that no one at club knew – at least nothing having come to my ears.
-Someone surely did. Even if most of it is a little back in time. And perhaps he had changed – become more prudent or simply more mature – in the role he grew into at the club.
Perhaps not. Tanya. It is still aching. Whatever my head tells me.
The cafeteria door was opened at the opposite end of the room, and Johnny appeared. He spotted them and signalled a short greeting with his right arm – then he stood for a couple of brief seconds watching them. But he stopped short of coming towards their table and instead walked past the counter and into the small cafeteria store.
-In any case … Mai concluded the current topic as Johnny disappeared from sight. -There are unfortunately many girls – and boys – out there who are exposed to doings from which they should have been spared. But it takes a lot to kill someone. And so we still think it’s most likely that the second killing is a direct result of the first one.
-The tropical juice – the bottle – the paper cup – have you found anything? Celia tried to move her mind away from Tanya and Peter and was back on the day of the club cup.
-No – we haven’t been here looking for any more items either, but we have talked about it down at the station. It may mean something – that we did not find any bottle.
Mai suddenly caught the subtle question mark on Sonia’s face and realized that she did not know what they were talking about.
-It’s your story, Celia. Tell Sonia.
So Celia shared her narrative – calmly and distinctly now – about Philip coming to the booth with the unopened bottle, Samir serving Linda a cup of juice from it, and about Linda – a little while later – falling to the ground without any cup in her hand.
-Wasn’t it taking a chance? she concluded, -I mean ... if it was removed from the booth ... on purpuse.
-No, I wouldn’t say so. Sonia made an attempt to recreate in her mind the minutes following Linda’s collapse. -There were a lot of people. And a little chaotic. And I don’t think that those who had been serving at the sales booth stayed there all the time. And everyone’s focus was anyway on what was happening ... out here.
A small break for coffee and soft drinks was due. Mai let her eyes move from Sonia to Celia. This should have been my investigating team. She smiled a little at the thought. We need such breaks.
Ducks. Duck dad and duck mom. Ducklings. Yellowish leaves landing on the water. If I’m going to the school prom. Goodie bags. A boy's back steadily turning smaller. And the cup ... Michael’s cup.
Celia once more took the initiative. -You included a third possibility, Mai. About a common ground – a reason - connecting them. Which would make the two ... incidents ... equal.
It was still difficult to talk about killings.
-They took part at an overnight cup together .. I think it was a couple of weeks before our cup. Some good distance away from here. Peter trained Michael – her new boyfriend’s kid.
Sonia followed up on the topic, without waiting for Celia to go on. -I was thinking about the same thing. She mentioned it ... somewhat indirectly ... at a planning meeting for the cup, even though I did not connect her remark to Peter in any way at that time. And I was wondering if perhaps ... his father ... was there? And that something happened ...
She stopped abruptly, leaving her finishing remark hovering.
The tiny wrinkles above Mai’s eyes reappeared. -Can you – or one of you – find out for me exactly when and where this cup was arranged?
A short quarter of an hour later Mai was on her way out. She almost collided with Johnny as she opened the front door – he seemed to have yet another business in the cafeteria. The cool autumn drizzle was a distinct transition from the heated cafeteria space contributing to the flow of thoughts inside her.
This was even more useful than I was hoping for. I got to know things I was not aware of before – and it also gave me new thoughts on known issues. Now I must try to sort it all out – pinpoint what’s important.
She unlocked the lightblue car with her remote controlled key and slipped into the driver’s seat. There was no police vehicle today. She did not want that. A meeting, that’s right – but there was no reason to make it public.
She liked the small el-car. And she was rather proud of it. It was her own – she’d purchased it right at the start of this summer. Admittedly in part with some loan money. But just the same – getting a car of her own was a small milestone.
Even mom and dad were beaming - both being showingly proud - when she first came home to present it to them. Dad made a prolonged and thorough study. A completely new car. Maybe the police was not without some merit after all.
Chapter 38
A bottle and a cup
He used his left hand to grab both shoulder straps of the blue-striped bag placed between his legs in front of the seat – and opened the car door with his right one. As he halfway got up dragging the bag after him out of the car, he hesitated for a tiny moment. The bag - did it feel somewhat heavier than usual? As if there was something in it - in addition to his usual match gear.
He got himself out and slipped the bag over his left shoulder. He was the lucky one today allowed to sit up front – it was always a little cramped with three guys plus their equipment in the back seat. And this parent car was not among the more spacious ones either.
There might be some stuff there I wasn’t aware of. I often have some unused clothes and other things at the bottom of the bag, and to be honest I did not look to see what was in it today – I guess I just put what I needed for the match on top and got going. Rather in a hurry as well.
Which is not too uncommon, he had to admit to himself.
Come to think of it – when was the last time he used this bag? The thought struck him – kind of a follow-up. He had two of them, and he mostly used the other one. Which he liked a little better. It was slightly smaller og easier to carry. And somewhat more stylish – even though that might not make a lot of difference to him. But today he could not find it when he was about to rush out. Maybe mom had put it away somewhere – taken clothes out for laudry – or something. And there was no time to go looking for it.
So it had to be this one. Not that it mattered much.
Their last league match for this year. Away game. And they had been driving for a rather long time – the opponent was one of the teams located most distant from the club.
It would not mean too much.
We are not playing for a top position. And we cannot be relegated. We’ll finish mid-table. Whether we win or lose tonight.
In a way I’m glad that we’re done for the season.
He had not been at his best for the last few weeks. Not on the pitch. Maybe not off it either. There was something ... disturbing him. Creating discomfort. Things weren’t ... right. He felt it at school as well.
I’m not able to concentrate properly. The test on Friday was terrible. It’s not really me. I can do much better.
He was positive it was that police woman from the cup he had spotted coming out from the cafeteria to walk down to the club square earlier this afternoon. Even if there was no police car parked there. What was she about there now? They surely had grabbed the guy they think did it?
It was a rather cramped locker room, so they came to sit close-to on top of each other. He found a spot as far from the door as possible – for some reason it had become a habit of his. He changed into his playing outfit as fast as he could and observed that his team mates did so as well. But of course the coach had to say something. Even if they all knew how they were supposed to play. In any case he needed to give the names of those selected to start the game.
He was almost surprised by being picked for the starting lineup.
The coach and several of the players were already heading onto the well-lit pitch when he picked up his outerwear in order to put it into his bag. Even though clothes and bags were to stay in the locker room during the match, he had this habit of packing – instead of letting what was his lie around mixed up with the things of his team mates.
The rushed movement – he was a bit behindhand this time as well – made him use his arm rather firmly. He felt the object at once – something roundish? – giving way, in part rolling off. He paused - wondering for a brief second. Then he pulled out a towel and a pair of training pants – one of his extras, placed in the bag as a kind of backup – uncovering what was hidden below.
It was as if a cold wind was surging in through his mouth and throat filling the rest of his body. He stiffened and remained sitting on the low locker room bench staring at the object which his right hand had instinctively grabbed.
A plastic bottle. Big plastic bottle. Containing something darkish red. And fairly full.
He immediately knew what it was.
This is all wrong. This one should not be here. I have not placed it in my bag. It’s impossible that I’ve placed it in my bag. I don’t understand it.
After a few seconds he raised his head and eyes – all the team mates were gone out the door – he was back here on his own.
He carefully lifted the bottle and held it straight up in front of him. The reddish contents started to splash slowly behind the clear plastic - it was due to his hands trembling, he was unable to keep the bottle still.
As he half automatically placed the bottle back into his bag, he spotted that another item had been uncovered from below the towel and pants. He picked up the small paper cup with his left hand. It was completely dry now, but he could see the dark red spots along the edge at the bottom end – remains from what someone had been drinking. He lifted it up placing it under his nose – there was even still a smell.
He let go of the cup and observed it falling down onto his outerwear touching the bottle. Another chill – almost icy this time. He remained sitting – head in the palms of his hands – as his eyes through his fingers catched the two objects in the bag on the floor.
They must not find the cup and the bottle in my bag. I have to remove them. Give them to someone? No. Throw them away? Yes – but where?
He did not quite realize for how long he had been sitting like this. But he was suddenly conscious of his head working to find solutions.
He made a quick look around him. He was alone. No one in the narrow locker room and none in the corridor either.
He grabbed the cup and the bottle, rose to his feet and stepped a few yards towards the entrance. Halfway through the room he stooped down and opened a blue-like bag. He took care to place the two items under all clothes and other things already in it.
He did not know whether his coach – or team mates – had noticed him staying behind for so long. In any case they should be used to me being a litte late, he told himself.
He played the whole match. And was surprised at being able to play so well. Succeeding with what he tried to do. As if something outside him was running his movements making things work. He could hear his coach shouting praise from the side line.
Chapter 39
A late call from Simon
Celia and Sonia watched Mai leaving through the cafeteria door. They remained seated at the corner table – without having agreed upon it they both felt a need for spending some minutes together after the break-up of the police woman.
Celia took in the fact that Johnny and Mai nearly opened the door simultaneously – from opposite sides. He did not walk over to them this time either. But he waved briefly with his left hand while the other one was carrying a small box or chest. He went around the counter, placed the chest on the floor beside it and started pulling one of the cabinets at the far end away from the wall.
Tool chest. He is going to fix something on the cabinet.
-He is busy today. It was an innocent opening of a chat, she thought.
-I’ve got the impression that he is always around here. A soft smile accompanied Sonia’s reply. -Emma and him – you always run into one or both of them. And as I hear it’s been like that for as long as anyone can remember.
She was careful not to raise her voice, even though the distance from the cash desk area to their table made it unlikely for him to discern anything but muffled sounds.
But all of a sudden she realized that Celia had hardly heard her comment. A couple of tiny wrinkles appeared on the young girl’s forehead – and her eyes were shifting away from her companion, from the desk area as well as the front door, seemingly focusing straight into empty space.
There is something up here now. In my head. Something new. Which has not been there before. Some news from Mai? Or something I’ve seen? – or heard? – not thought of before? It is here, but I’m unable to get to it. Not yet. I think it is important.
Celia suddenly shook her head and was back at the corner table.
-Sonia … If it’s not him ... and I don’t want it to be him, as I’m sure you’ve understood – what if ... what if ... it is one of us? I mean ... not you ...
A tiny pause – her mouth was just about to shape «old people».
- … grown-ups. But one of us ... who are young? I mean ... the junior guys. Or us junior girls. People I go to school with. Or ... and who strikes him on the head with ...
-These doings coming from one of our youngsters – I would say that’s unlikely, Celia. Sonia tried to catch the eyes of the girl across the table. -But still ...
She allowed her herself to let go of her focus on Celia’s face as she was not able to create eye contact.
-After the cup I told myself that it must have been someone from outside – after all we were a lot of people there – and from many places. But after Peter ... and if the two are connected ... it has to be someone who is ... close to us.
I guess this was not much of a consolation. But I think Celia is the kind of person you have to be honest with – I cannot tell her something which I believe to be wrong.
-One of the coaches? It was a straight hit from Celia. But Sonia let it rest.
Since it could just as well be one of the coaches as someone else among us. Parents. Team leaders. Volunteers. Someone in our surroundings. Is it possible for us to go on in our club? – if no one will be able to sort this out?
Philip’s voice. Or did it come from Johnny? At the board meeting. The women’s team. Should I tell her?
-There’s one more thing. It was mentioned at a board meeting after the second ... The women’s locker room. It’s normally just used by our senior team. And they had the day off. No match. No training. It was quite by coincidence that one of the players came there ... and found him.
Celia immediately caugt the point. -So whoever did it knew. Peter was meant to be lying there ... till the day after?
-Well, now the cabinet’s in order. His calm voice made the same impression as always. -One of its sides was just about to fall off. Police on a visit?
Johnny had come over to their table in the corner. He put his tool box down on the chair on which Mai was sitting earlier.
-She wanted to ask about a couple of things, and Celia ... Sonia nodded in the direction of the eighteen-year-old, -... was close by when it happened – both times.
-I know. He turned straight to Celia. -Things all right with you?
She nodded displaying a small smile. -Getting better. It was a statement just barely within truth limits. Though not more. And she was sincerely grateful to him for taking care of her that evening outside the women’s locker room.
Johnny picked up his box and started to walk back towards the counter desk. After a few yards he stopped - turning to them again.
-Try not to let it all be too hard on you. We have to stand together now – to move on. Make sure the club is just as strong as before.
A few seconds later he was gone from the cafeteria.
The tool kit. The box. I have to ask her.
-Sonia – do you remember that Sunday morning? Rather early – at the square. Laura. Came out from the locker room. She mentioned a box – and something which was not in it. Do you know what kind of box it was? And what she meant by what she said?
Sonia figured that Johnny’s tool chest had triggered her. But she was not sure what Celia was aiming at.
-It was a cash box, she answered. -You see – I came up to her somewhat abruptly, so she almost lost it to the floor. There was some money, papers and some junk. No – I don’t know what she meant.
I rather thought it was like that. Should I tell Sonia about her chat by the fence – during the break at our training? Or what she replied to me at that match? No – I’m not ready for it.
-We could of course ask her straight? – since she took the trouble to come up with this remark.
But Celia shook her head. -Not now. Maybe later. You see ... the fact is I’m going to be more with Laura, and I must not do anything ...
A temporary solution, Emma named it when calling her some days ago – Celia realized that she was involved in much more than cafeteria matters at the club. For the time being Laura would work as the head coach for the fifteen-year-olds. She hoped it was okay for Celia to continue as an assistant together with her.
They had yet to do their first session together, and Laura did not mention the new arrangement at the last junior training. Even though that was the day after the call from Emma.
Celia wasn’t really looking forward to it, even if she had said yes.
It won’t be the same as with Peter. He made me in a way feel ... safe.
-It’s fine, Celia. Surely something quite insignificant anyway.
-Remember, Sonia went on smiling across the table. -Most of us have some – you may call them small secrets – which we do not want other people to get to know. And there need not be anything wrong about it.
-But if the secrets are growing big? Celia did not know why she said it – it just burst out of her head.
-I have to be off – Sara will soon be waiting for me.
All of a sudden Sonia got serious, and this time her eyes were able to make contact. -I suppose someone has told you that you should not involve yourself in this business? That this is not some kind of ... game ... for an eighteen-year-old?
Or for someone twice the age for that matter. This last thought stayed in her head.
A group of boys in their training outfits made some noise as they were passing the window closest to the corner table. The afternoon’s activities on the pitch were soon to be started.
-Several. In various ways. Most of all myself – I think. But I cannot let it go. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s too ... close.
It was an afternoon with no scheduled training for Celia. So she spent almost three hours doing school homework as the evening passed. She was a little surprised at being able to keep her concentration so well – her brain was functioning exactly as she wanted. When she put the last books back into her backsack, she felt being almost up-to-date.
Quite over the finishing line I’ll never get.
It was late when the phone rang. She was having a «curled-legs» break in her favourite sofa corner before going to bed, and was starting to get drowsy when picking up the mobile from the tabletop beside her. The calling number was not one entered as a contact on her phone, so there was no display of name. But she recognized it.
-I’m sorry for calling you ... this late. But I had to talk to ... someone.
Simon’s voice was tentative – almost faint.
He sounds a little worried. Has he been nervous about calling me?
-I have found the bottle with the tropical juice. And ... The cell phone turned quiet for several seconds. -... the cup she was poisoned from.
In a flash Celia was wide awake. Just one word. -Where?
-In my soccer bag. The one I’m using ... almost every day.
Chapter 40
What if it is one of us
The slim figure approached her with slow, but firm steps. In the dim light she could not see who it was. Worn jeans. Then she spotted the hands. It was the hands of Samir. But it could not be his face – it was too ... Small Simon? Not him either. All of a sudden the face was fully lighted, and Beatrice was staring down at her – a strange smile shaping her mouth.
She curled tighter against the wall.
Samir’s hands – there are things in his hands. A dark-reddish plastic bottle in his left hand. And the right one? It must be ... a hammer.
The human-like figure lifted its hand holding the hammer swinging it backwards as to start a fast forward drive. Her eyes glimpsed it coming at full speed against her head.
Celia rose her upper body abruptly. Leaning back again with an immediate jerk made her head hit the wall behind her bed. Heart beats were far above any resting rate, and she could sense the face sweat. But she was fast awake.
I must have shouted. I remember screaming.
But the house was quiet, so neither Kelvin nor mom could have heard her.
It was a dream. Luckily they tend to move away quickly.
But while the contents of the dream was about to be erased in her brain, the nasty feeling came creeping back inside her. In her chest. And stomach. Fed by brief and flashing chunks of thought.
-What if… it is one of us. The junior guys. The junior girls.
- It has to be someone who is ... close to us.
It had presented itself in her body before she went to sleep. Not at once. Not while she was speaking with Simon. Not right after either. At that point her brain had been at work – clearly and constructively – finding out of things. Planning. But after she slid softly down under her bed blankets and turned off the light.
Mom was already in bed when the phone rang, and Kelvin was in his room. So she remained sitting in the sofa corner with her mobile during their chat.
-They were at the bottom of my bag. I was about to empty it when I came home from the match tonight.
-Final leage match, he added.
-They cannot have stayed there for long. I use it almost every day. I admit I do not check everything at all times. I guess I’ve got some ... He hesitated for a moment – the contents of a training bag may be a little personal. -... trash in it.
-Did you pick them up? Did you hold them? It was the first thing to enter her mind.
-I’m afraid I did. His voice was still somewhat faint.
He sounds like a kid having done mischief. And being afraid to tell.
She was bound to ask him on this point. -Simon ... This time she was the one to waver. -Don’t misunderstand. But ... did you use the bag at the cup?
-I think so. Yes, I’m positive. He raised his voice a bit as he continued. -But it’s impossible that they’ve been in my bag since then. I would have noticed.
There was silence for a few seconds.
I can hear his breath. He’s keeping his phone close to his mouth.
-Should we … I … call the police? Simon proceeded after the short break. -But what if they ...
-We wait until the morning. Celia broke in on him. She did not want him to complete what he started.
They had agreed that Simon would bring his soccer bag to school the next day. Even though it was somewhat awkward, since he had to take his usual schoolbag as well.
-Can’t I just put the bottle and the cup in my backsack?
She had dismissed the idea. -I think they want to see the whole bag. With both items in it. And all the rest. Put them in the bag just as you found them.
-But there are a lot of …
-Don’t be silly, Simon. I’ve seen dirty soccer socks and training pants before. And surely so has the police.
He was the one to cut the connection. This time following an «okay» and a tentative «thanks». But no «bye» and neither no «good night».
She picked up her phone from the bedside table. Half past one.
So I have not been sleeping for long.
One of us. The junior guys. The junior girls. Simon.
She shook the whole of her upper body. It came out of nothing – her body was trying to do away with the unease which had again started gnawing nastily inside her.
Drop that thinking. It is rubbish.
Her body did not succeed. The gnawing feeling stayed on.
But in that case someone has placed the bottle and the cup in his bag. As far down as possible. In order to put the blame on him? Or could it be at random? Maybe the person putting them there did not know whose bag it was.
I have to call Mai early in the morning. But I want to see the bag first. I want to see the bottle. And not least the cup.
She let head and shoulders slowly slide down onto the large pillow again. Her phone remained lying on the bed sheet – partly covered by her right upper arm.
It was yet to be a couple of weeks before walking to school would be in the dark. But it was a clear and cold morning. Celia came back in to fetch a scarf from the hallway closet after first having put her head outside the front door.
She valued the cold air. It brought soft coolness to her face. It made her fully awake. And clear. As there was no doubt that the number of sleeping hours last night could be counted on the fingers of one hand.
Their intention was to be at school a little earlier than usual, but they had not agreed to meet on their way there. So Celia was somewhat surprised to spot Simon waiting for her in the nearly empty schoolyard – she thought she was rather early herself.
Simon stooped down and opened the bag placed in front of him on the paved ground. Celia in turn squatted and made a movement with her arm for the bag contents. The thought of it being foolish struck her at once. But the soft touch of his hand as he slowly pulled her upper arm back was nonetheless unexpected.
-There is no reason why you should leave traces here as well, was his quiet remark.
Or you do not want me to touch your dirty football socks. She managed to conceal her tiny smile.
He carefully tidied away training clothes, a towel and some other gear. At the bottom of the bag a dark red bottle and a slightly crumpled paper cup appeared. He picked one object with each hand and lifted them up.
-I have touched them before, he said when he noticed that Celia was about to hold him back.
The plastic was transparent, so it was easy to see how full the bottle was.
If someone asked my opinion, my guess would be that one or two cups have been served from this bottle – as these paper cups do not hold a lot.
She kept sitting down for a while looking down into the empty cup. At the red colour left behind by the tropical juice. He spotted the wrinkles creating tiny lines between her eyes.
-There are adequate remains from the juice. If the poison was here, they will find it. She was not sure whether her words were meant for Simon or herself.
-If it was done yesterday – and I can’t see how it could have been earlier without me noticing – it must have been while ... well, our bags stayed in the locker room during the match. Or maybe in the car. But if so I would have seen it – I think.
-Was Samir at the match? The straight question came as she was getting up from her squat position.
He took a step backwards, and she could see the change of expression in his face. Without quite being able to interprete it. Then he shook his head.
-You cannot believe that ... Samir ... it is impossible that he could have ... Peter ...
You are right. I do not believe that. But it was the first name in your head as well.
-I call the police woman before we start class. I’ve talked to her a couple of times. They will certainly want to see ... and maybe have ... the bag. And I guess they will also like to ... She paused her remark before concluding. -… speak with you.
She sensed him reacting, even though he did not answer. So she decided to continue, and this time she made no attempt at hiding her smile.
-Simon – cut off any silly thoughts. This is fantastic – this is a ... big step forward. The fact that you have found the juice bottle and the cup. You are doing them a huge favour.
I wonder whether that’s the nicest thing I’ve ever said to him?
And – do I say it more to bring calm to myself? – than to him?
They were to start their day in different classes, being held in two separate buildings of the school complex. So when Simon a while later was walking towards his entrance – backsack on one shoulder and soccer bag over the other one – Celia turned and went in the opposite direction. But she stopped on her way to sit down on the concrete edge enclosing the dry fountain.
So now we know why the police did not find the juice bottle. Someone hid it. And the paper cup. But where have they been until appearing in Simon’s bag? And who placed them there?
I think I know the answer to the latter one. But I’ll keep it to myself. Saying nothing to Mai. She will in any case find out.
