Alberte
The Hanging GirlAlberte Goldschmid is a young woman whose brief, partly reconstructed life is overtaken by the mystery of her death on Bornholm. The novel presents her through intimate traces and other people’s accounts: a love affair, a message asking to see her again, her repeated visits to a roadside, and, finally, June Habersaat’s admission that she deliberately drove into her. Those fragments change the apparent meaning of the case, shifting it from suspicion of Atu Abanshamash Dumuzi to June’s confession of responsibility.
Identity and Traces
The surviving evidence offers no extended account of Alberte’s childhood or independent life. It places her in relationships and in the memories of those who knew her, so that the reader has to assemble her presence from partial records. One such trace is a folded piece of paper that Carl Mørck carefully removes from a hiding place. The paper is yellowed and damp but still legible in part. Addressed to Alberte, it asks to meet again after she returns to Zealand from school and gives a telephone number at a commune; the final two digits have become unreadable. The message preserves the possibility of a renewed meeting, but its damaged number leaves the practical means of contact incomplete.
Alberte’s relationship with Frank Brennan is also described retrospectively by June. June says that she and Frank fell in love and met for a couple of months, making love in the grass at the place where the police later found June. She contrasts Frank with her husband, Christian Habersaat, and describes herself as having fallen passionately in love. Her account makes Alberte part of a chain of attachments and jealousies, but does not establish the precise nature of Alberte’s own feelings for Frank. The note addressed to Alberte gives that connection a separate, material trace: someone wanted to see her again when she returned from school.
Life on Bornholm
June’s account places Alberte at the roadside early in the morning, before the others had got up. She says Alberte went out there every morning, even when there was nothing to see, and dismisses the habit as a game played by a foolish young girl. That description reveals more about June’s way of speaking of Alberte than it can establish about Alberte’s own reasons. It nevertheless makes the roadside a repeated part of her routine rather than an incidental setting encountered only on the day she died.
On the morning of the collision, Alberte was standing by the road when a snowplow approached, although there was no snow and Christmas was still more than a month away. June says Alberte smiled at someone driving the vehicle. That ordinary gesture becomes the hinge of June’s account: she had made it seem that she would steer around Alberte, then jerked the wheel and drove into her. The bicycle was struck after Alberte. The contrast between the apparent maneuver and the sudden turn is central to the confession; the collision was not described as a loss of control or an accidental swerve.
Death and Conflicting Accounts
Before June’s confession, Pirjo Abanshamash Dumuzi accused Atu of killing Alberte. Pirjo said she had worked out what happened on the day they left Bornholm, after hearing how much Atu spoke about Alberte. She recalled hearing on the radio that Alberte had been found murdered, thrown up in a tree after a hit-and-run, two mornings before their departure. Pirjo also claimed to have found blood on the sign from the house at Ølene, the Celestial Sphere, inside the Volkswagen Kombi. In her account, police were searching the island for the car, and she believed that covering up the killing would keep them from finding Atu.
That accusation is sharply at odds with June’s later admission. June does not merely acknowledge that Alberte died in a collision: she describes deliberately steering into her. Her account identifies a different killer and gives the apparently misleading approach a purposeful explanation. Alberte’s death is therefore reconstructed through competing stories, one in which Pirjo believes she protected Atu from discovery and another in which June describes herself as the driver. The distinction matters: the clues that once directed suspicion toward Atu do not match the responsibility June ultimately claims.
Narrative Role
Alberte’s presence in the story is built from evidence that arrives out of sequence and from people whose knowledge is incomplete or compromised. The damaged note points toward an expected reunion; June’s memory supplies the collision; Pirjo’s earlier explanation connects the death to Atu, the Volkswagen Kombi, and the blood-marked sign. None of these fragments alone gives a full account of Alberte’s life, but together they revise the reader’s understanding of how she died.
The recurring gap between what observers think they know and what a later account reveals makes Alberte more than the object of a cold-case investigation. Her roadside routine, the message addressed to her, and the brief smile recalled by June give the case a human scale, while the deliberate turn of the wheel exposes how easily a public account of a hit-and-run can conceal an intentional act. Her story remains fragmentary, but its decisive fact is not: June’s confession places Alberte at the center of a murder concealed beneath the appearance of a traffic accident.