The Dinosaur Feather(119)

Søren shook his head.

“It was like meeting myself. Only as a ten years younger man. To begin with, I wasn’t sure if he was worth the effort. His lack of self-esteem. It reminded me of everything I had worked so hard to leave behind . . .”

Søren was mesmerized by her.

“But then I realized how complex he actually was. Of course, he was affected by the humiliation he had suffered as a child and, in some respects, his self-worth was like a sieve.” She looked pensively into space. “However, the interesting thing about Johannes was that he had decided to break the pattern, so in some areas he was strong and determined. He had made up his mind not to go through life like a whipped dog, even though he had been treated like one most of his childhood. That’s why I fell in love with him. He offered me a challenge outside the bedroom, but at the same time, he could handle that I dominated him sexually. It was a very harmonious relationship.

“We had been together for six months and were blissfully happy,” she continued. “Then I started talking about having children. I was shocked when I realized he didn’t want any, but we remained friends. I have always known I wanted children. We were both very sad, but the split was inevitable.” Susanne fell silent.

“Do you have any idea what was happening within the family at that point?” Henrik asked. Søren and Susanne turned to Henrik in unison, as though they had simultaneously remembered his presence.

“You mean Johannes’s family?”

“Yes.”

“I think we had only been together for around five weeks when Johannes had a falling out with Jørgen and, consequently, Janna. Johannes tried to reach out to his mother several times, but Jørgen always got in the way. It upset him, obviously. He never found the strength to stand up to his stepfather and, as an adult, his survival strategy had been to ignore Jørgen’s shit. We talked about his options. Johannes hoped Jørgen’s death might create an opening. Shortly after the funeral, he visited his mother and learned Jørgen had disinherited him. Johannes didn’t care, but it killed him when Janna insisted he was only there for the money. That night, he closed the door to his childhood home forever. Johannes told me everything when he came home . . .” for a moment she looked hesitantly at Søren. “I never met them myself, but . . .”

“And yet you sound so certain when you describe them,” Henrik objected. Søren shuffled his feet, annoyed at the interruption.

“I trusted Johannes. You could do that. At some level, he was damaged by his childhood,” she grimaced, “but he was a very fine human being. He made a real effort with people, and he would never have invented the scene with his mother. No one could have made up that story, and certainly not Johannes. He was far too . . . introspective.” She looked firmly at Henrik and turned to Søren again.

“I would like to pursue my question,” Henrik insisted. Susanne looked at him as though it was highly inappropriate for him to intervene and Søren couldn’t help enjoying himself.

“What if you were wrong? What if Mr. and Mrs. Kampe were well-meaning, decent people, and Johannes was the one who had gone off the rails?”

“It wasn’t like that,” Susanne stated. “I would know. And so would you.” Again she looked at Søren as though Henrik was of no consequence. “You know when you’re being played. You might choose to ignore certain signals at the time, but deep inside, you know. I believe that.”

She swallowed and continued. “Johannes may have been carrying some heavy baggage, but he had changed himself into a capable and very loving human being. Someone who had dealt with his past, who faced the future with optimism.”

“Was he bisexual?” Henrik asked bluntly. Susanne held Søren’s gaze for a moment longer, then she slowly turned to Henrik.

“No,” she declared.

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. We began our relationship with complete sexual openness. No code, no core, no truth. And this applied to our sex life, too. Everything was allowed, nothing was taboo, and no, Johannes wasn’t bisexual.”

“But he wore a freaking dress,” Henrik snapped, pointing furiously to the case file lying on the table in front of him. “I’ve seen several photos of him in a dress.”

“Yes, he did. But wearing a dress doesn’t make you gay. Nor does wearing pants make you straight.” Susanne looked long and hard at Henrik’s ’80s jeans.

“Johannes got off on being dominated, and he was a transvestite. He liked going to the Red Mask wearing a skirt and full makeup. And a slightly more adult outfit at Inkognito.” Søren was aware of Henrik’s growing frustration.