Killing Moon

‘Yeah,’ he said, pointing to a glass box containing a dozen white maggots. They were saved because their length could be indicative of how long they had fed on the corpse, in other words, how long it had been since they hatched, and therefore, something about the time of death. Not in hours, but in days and weeks.

‘This won’t take long,’ Alexandra said. ‘Crime Squad just want the probable cause of death and an external examination. Blood test, urine, bodily fluid. The pathologist will perform a complete post-mortem on Monday. Any plans for tonight? Here...’

Helge took a photograph of where she was pointing.

‘Thought I might watch a movie,’ he said.

‘What about joining me at a gay club for a dance?’ She made notes on the form and pointed again. ‘Here.’

‘I can’t dance.’

‘Rubbish. All gays can dance. See this cut on the throat? Starts on the left side, gets deeper further along, then shallower towards the right. It indicates a right-handed killer who was standing behind and holding her head back. One of the pathologists was telling me about a similar wound that they thought was murder, and it turned out the man had cut his own throat. Pretty determined, in other words. What do you say, want to go dance with some gays tonight?’

‘What if I’m not gay?’

‘In that case...’ Alexandra said, taking notes, ‘...I wouldn’t actually want to go out anywhere with you again, Helge.’

He laughed out loud and snapped a picture. ‘Because?’

‘Because then you’ll block other men. A good wingman needs to be gay.’

‘I can pretend to be gay.’

‘Doesn’t work. Men notice the smell of testosterone and back off. What do you think this is?’

She held a magnifying glass just below one of Susanne Andersen’s nipples.

Helge leaned closer. ‘Dried saliva, maybe. Or snot. Not semen, in any case.’

‘Take a photo, then I’ll take a scrape sample and check it at the lab on Monday. If we’re lucky, it’s DNA material.’

Helge took a picture while Alexandra examined the mouth, ears, nostrils and eyes.

‘What do you think has happened here?’ She raised a penlight and shone it in the empty eye socket.

‘Animals?’

‘No, I don’t think so.’ Alexandra shone the light around the edges of the eye socket. ‘There’s nothing remaining of the eyeball inside and no wounds around the eye from the claws of birds or rodents. And if it was an animal, why not take the other eye as well? Take a photo here...’ She illuminated the eye socket. ‘See how the nerve fibres look like they’ve been cut at one place, as though with a knife?’

‘Jesus,’ Helge said. ‘Who does something like that?’

‘Angry men,’ Alexandra said, shaking her head. ‘Very angry and very damaged men. And they’re on the loose out there. Maybe I should stay in and watch a movie tonight as well.’

‘Yeah, right.’

‘OK. Let’s see if he’s assaulted her sexually too.’

They took a cigarette break on the roof after determining there were no obvious signs of injury to the exterior or interior of the genitalia nor any traces of semen on the outside of the vagina. If semen had been present within the vagina, it would have been drawn into the rest of the body long ago. The pathologist would go over the same ground as them on Monday but she was pretty certain they would not arrive at a different conclusion.

Alexandra was not a regular smoker, but had a vague belief in cigarettes smoking out any potential demons from the dead that had taken up residence within. She inhaled and looked out over Oslo. Over the fjord, glittering like silver beneath a pale, cloudless sky. Over the low hills, where the colours of autumn burned in red and yellow.

‘Fuck, it’s nice here,’ she said with a sigh.

‘You make it sound like you wish it wasn’t,’ Helge said, taking over the cigarette from her.

‘I hate getting attached to things.’

‘Things?’

‘Places. People.’

‘Men?’

‘Especially men. They take away your freedom. Or rather, they don’t take it, you bloody well give it away like a wuss, as if you’re programmed to. And freedom is worth more than men.’

‘You sure?’

She snatched the cigarette back and took a long, angry drag. Blew the smoke out just as hard and gave a harsh, rasping laugh.

‘Worth more than the men I fall for anyway.’

‘What about that cop you mentioned?’

‘Oh, him.’ She chuckled. ‘Yeah, I liked him. But he was a mess. His wife had kicked him out and he drank all the time.’

‘Where is he now?’

‘His wife died and he skipped the country. Tragic business.’ Alexandra stood up abruptly. ‘Right, we better finish up and get the body back in the refrigerator. I want to party!’

They returned to the autopsy room, collected the last samples, filled out the rest of the fields on the form and tidied up.

‘Speaking of parties,’ Alexandra said. ‘You know the party this girl and the other one were at? That was the same party I was invited to, the one I then invited you to.’

‘You’re kidding?’