Free The Caller by Karin Fossum Page B

person responsible,’ Ellinor Mørk added, ‘so we can get an explanation of why they did this to her. Because that’s what she doesn’t understand. We don’t either. She keeps to herself, and she doesn’t draw attention to herself. She goes to the shop every day, works in her garden. That type of thing.’
    ‘Have you contacted the newspaper?’ Sejer asked. ‘The obituary department?’
    ‘No,’ Erik Mørk said. ‘I assumed you would do that.’
    Sejer began to trace the edges of something unpleasant. A carefully designed plan, a soundless form of terror.
    ‘I’ll talk to her,’ he said. ‘I’ll talk to her today. First I’ll stop by the newspaper. If I find anything, I’ll let you know.’
    Erik Mørk put his finger on the obituary. ‘Have you ever heard of this happening before?’
    ‘No,’ Sejer said. ‘This is really a new and very serious kind of prank. I’ve never seen anything like it. What about the little poem?’ he asked. ‘Does it sound familiar?’
    Ellinor Mørk rolled her eyes. ‘That poem is unbelievably ridiculous,’ she said. ‘Our mother has never been ill. This is insane. Our phone is ringing off the hook. People are so shocked when they read that she’s dead. When we tell them it’s just a prank, they’re even more confused. It’s what he wants. Assuming it’s a man. Do you think he wants us to be confused?’
    ‘What should we say to Mother?’ Erik asked. ‘Somehow we’ve got to calm her down.’
    Sejer thought about it for a minute. ‘Tell her she was selected at random for a practical joke which has neither meaning nor purpose. Tell her it’s a game.’
    ‘So that’s what you believe it is? A game?’
    ‘Not necessarily. But that’s what you should tell your mother.’
    He found Jacob Skarre.
    He looked quizzically at his younger colleague. ‘If you saw your own obituary in the paper, how would you react?’
    Skarre had already heard about the fake obituary. He opened his mouth to respond, but, because he needed to think it through, changed his mind and kept quiet. What would he have thought if he’d seen these words in the paper some morning while eating breakfast? Our dear Jacob Skarre passed from us today, thirty-nine years old . Or a variation, like this: Our dear Jacob Skarre was suddenly taken from us today . Or: Jacob Skarre died today, after a long illness .
    ‘I’d have reacted with horror, dread and bewilderment,’ he said. ‘I probably would have laughed hysterically for a while. Then I would have thought about everyone I know who also would’ve read the notice and thought it was true.’ He turned to the inspector. ‘I presume it’s the Wolverine that’s been on the prowl?’
    ‘Yes,’ Sejer agreed, ‘the Wolverine. The Beast from Bjerkås, you can be sure of that. Talk about originality.’
    ‘What do you think his goal is?’
    ‘To make things happen,’ Sejer said. ‘He’s probably inadequate in many ways, deprived of experience and companionship. Perhaps his motive is fairly modest, and it’s all about a need every human being shares. He just wants attention.’
    When she showed them into her kitchen, Gunilla Mørk seemed embarrassed.
    ‘I don’t like to be a bother,’ she apologised. ‘But Erik and Ellinor wanted me to report it. It’s rather trivial when I think about what you normally have to deal with. It’s only a silly newspaper obituary. I’d like to laugh it off, but the laughter doesn’t get past my throat.’
    She paced uncertainly. She didn’t know quite how she should behave, with two strange men in her kitchen.
    ‘I thought I had some good years ahead of me,’ she said, ‘but when I saw the obituary in the paper, my whole world shook. I’m no longer certain of anything. I suppose all security is false security,’ she said with a faint smile. ‘Or so I’ve often thought. Because anything can happen, and it can just as well be today, and to me. I understand that rather well. We are masters of