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Anthony McIntyre ✒ Norway provides the location for the latest Scandicrime novel that I managed to read, a relatively short but beautifully written work by Karin Fossum, reportedly the eighth in the Inspector Sejer series. It was my first encounter with him ... and with her.

 
Jonas August Lowe is found dead by a couple out for a Sunday walk in the woods. The man who limped past them moments earlier nominated himself in their minds as a suspect. Kristine and Reinhardt Ris had different recollections of what he looked like. That conflict is not the only tension in their lives and as the police investigation steps up their own story runs parallel to it. She lives a life of trepidation, he one of domination. The lost life of a child prompts a yearning within her to create a new life, whereas he is having none of it. While she remains with him she shall stay childless. Reinhardt has never hit his wife but comes to tell her he will kill her if she ever leaves him. The dilemma is inescapable; take a chance on her own life to start another

In terms of their investigation the cops are more inclined to run with her witness account rather than his. It is detailed and she is assertive and specific. She suggests a close likeness between the man she saw and the writer Hans Christian Anderson. Physically unattractive and lumbering due to a limp, which Renihardt thinks might actually be a prosthetic, there can’t be too many in the frame. Nor will there be a fairy tale ending.

The police are also quick to notice that the husband is eager to place himself at the centre of the story. They do this without knowing that he took photos of the dead boy at the crime scene which horrified his wife. He later invites friends over for a peek. He also turns up at the funeral of the child which while more understandable is a cause of further tensions with Kristine, repulsed by his morbid interest.

The investigation seems to go nowhere and of course the check list for suspects must always include someone on benefits. Traditional fare for Scandinavian crime fiction writers explaining the mind set of cops. The two principal investigators, Konrad Sejer and Jakob Skarre, are sceptical of such box ticking yet they are unable to box any suspect in. They visit convicted paedophiles, become engrossed in charming conversation with one of them who they can’t help but like given his bonhomie, contrition and ability to explain his condition. Despite his assistance the police are no closer. One vital lead is overlooked because of a wheelchair, which collides with the methodical detective work of Sejer and Skarre.

Enter Edwin, a chronically obese child. He is spoilt and allowed as much ice cream as he can force into his ample stomach. The reader is invited to reflect on this as a form of abuse, different for sure from that practiced by the paedophile but one which can eat a child while creating the impression that the child is actually doing the eating. There can be no happy ending for Edwin. If the killer of Jonas does not get him the Emperor of Ice Cream most certainly shall. 

Sejer and Skarre are brilliantly weaved together as one; a working team whose interaction is on a par with Virgil Cole and Everett Hitch, the creation of Robert Parker. Their dialogue is intelligent and problematic, surfing the uneven tides of moral reflection.

The Water’s Edge is a book that while emotionally detached, at times unforgiving, takes the reader inside the mind of paedophiles, depicting them as human rather than some alien life form. Hanna Arendt’s timeless phrase “the banality of evil” might seem apt here although it is far from certain that this is what Fossum wants to say.

When the water laps back from the edge, revealed is a multi-shaded moral mosaic where black and white exist only as legal edicts, base lines that society is occasionally pulled back to when ought trumps is.

Karin Fossum, 2009, The Water's Edge. Harvill Sacker: London. ISBN: 978-1-846-55170-3

Water's Edge

Anthony McIntyre ✒ Norway provides the location for the latest Scandicrime novel that I managed to read, a relatively short but beautifully written work by Karin Fossum, reportedly the eighth in the Inspector Sejer series. It was my first encounter with him ... and with her.

 
Jonas August Lowe is found dead by a couple out for a Sunday walk in the woods. The man who limped past them moments earlier nominated himself in their minds as a suspect. Kristine and Reinhardt Ris had different recollections of what he looked like. That conflict is not the only tension in their lives and as the police investigation steps up their own story runs parallel to it. She lives a life of trepidation, he one of domination. The lost life of a child prompts a yearning within her to create a new life, whereas he is having none of it. While she remains with him she shall stay childless. Reinhardt has never hit his wife but comes to tell her he will kill her if she ever leaves him. The dilemma is inescapable; take a chance on her own life to start another

In terms of their investigation the cops are more inclined to run with her witness account rather than his. It is detailed and she is assertive and specific. She suggests a close likeness between the man she saw and the writer Hans Christian Anderson. Physically unattractive and lumbering due to a limp, which Renihardt thinks might actually be a prosthetic, there can’t be too many in the frame. Nor will there be a fairy tale ending.

The police are also quick to notice that the husband is eager to place himself at the centre of the story. They do this without knowing that he took photos of the dead boy at the crime scene which horrified his wife. He later invites friends over for a peek. He also turns up at the funeral of the child which while more understandable is a cause of further tensions with Kristine, repulsed by his morbid interest.

The investigation seems to go nowhere and of course the check list for suspects must always include someone on benefits. Traditional fare for Scandinavian crime fiction writers explaining the mind set of cops. The two principal investigators, Konrad Sejer and Jakob Skarre, are sceptical of such box ticking yet they are unable to box any suspect in. They visit convicted paedophiles, become engrossed in charming conversation with one of them who they can’t help but like given his bonhomie, contrition and ability to explain his condition. Despite his assistance the police are no closer. One vital lead is overlooked because of a wheelchair, which collides with the methodical detective work of Sejer and Skarre.

Enter Edwin, a chronically obese child. He is spoilt and allowed as much ice cream as he can force into his ample stomach. The reader is invited to reflect on this as a form of abuse, different for sure from that practiced by the paedophile but one which can eat a child while creating the impression that the child is actually doing the eating. There can be no happy ending for Edwin. If the killer of Jonas does not get him the Emperor of Ice Cream most certainly shall. 

Sejer and Skarre are brilliantly weaved together as one; a working team whose interaction is on a par with Virgil Cole and Everett Hitch, the creation of Robert Parker. Their dialogue is intelligent and problematic, surfing the uneven tides of moral reflection.

The Water’s Edge is a book that while emotionally detached, at times unforgiving, takes the reader inside the mind of paedophiles, depicting them as human rather than some alien life form. Hanna Arendt’s timeless phrase “the banality of evil” might seem apt here although it is far from certain that this is what Fossum wants to say.

When the water laps back from the edge, revealed is a multi-shaded moral mosaic where black and white exist only as legal edicts, base lines that society is occasionally pulled back to when ought trumps is.

Karin Fossum, 2009, The Water's Edge. Harvill Sacker: London. ISBN: 978-1-846-55170-3
Anthony McIntyre Book Reviews Scandinavian crime fiction

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