Suddenly an idea took shape in her head. She took the cutting out of the folder and found an envelope. Put the cutting in and licked the envelope. Wrote on it Jacob's address. It was like a declaration of love. Then it occurred to her that it could be traced. Her handwriting was distinctive, a little girl's handwriting with round letters. She opened the envelope and found another. Wrote the address again using rigid, unfamiliar letters quite unlike her own. She could post it in town. Better than if the postmark was Elvestad. No, she wasn't going to post it at all, but put it right into his letterbox. In his letterbox downstairs in the communal hallway. Oh boy, that would make him think! He would turn the cutting and the envelope over and over, put them down, pick them up again. Perhaps save it. Show it to his colleagues. Linda felt a genuine delight at her ingenuity. Sometimes life worked itself out, rolled itself out like a red carpet. She went to the bathroom. Looked in the mirror. Brushed her hair away from her forehead and gathered it up with a hair band. Now she looked older. Then she ran up to her room and opened her wardrobe. Chose a black jumper and black trousers. Her pale face seemed colourless in all the black: she looked dramatic. She took off all her jewellery. Earrings, necklace and rings. There was only her pale face with her scraped-back hair. She locked the front door behind her and walked to the bus stop. She stuck the envelope inside her bra. At first the paper felt cool against her skin, but it soon warmed up. Jacob's hands would touch the white envelope, which had been close to her heart. It was pounding now. She felt her nipples harden. Perhaps the envelope would smell of her. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, the ones she hadn't managed to catch with the hair band. The bus came. She sat down and started dreaming till she felt warm. No-one talked to her. If they had tried, she would have turned around and looked straight through them with glassy eyes.
"Hello, Marie," Gunder said. "There's something I haven't told you. That may be because I keep hoping you can hear, though I know better. The accident, Marie. The crash. The reason you're here. The other driver died, you see. He's been buried now and I went to the funeral. I stayed in the background, sitting on the last pew. Many people were crying. The service ended in the church, some people prefer that. I slipped out and went to my car. It seemed appropriate to be there, but I didn't want to prolong it; after all, I hadn't been invited. Then a woman came after me, she called out, quite gently, and I must admit that I jumped. It was his widow, Marie. She was about your age. I'm very sorry, she said, I know absolutely everyone in the church, but I've never seen you before. So I told her that I was your brother. I don't know what I'd expected. That she would get angry, or be embarrassed perhaps, but she wasn't. Her eyes brimmed with tears. How is your sister? she asked anxiously.
"I was very moved. I just don't know, I said. We don't know if she'll regain consciousness. Then she stroked my arm a few times and she smiled. People are much kinder than they are made out to be, Marie.
"But here's the most important bit. Poona was buried yesterday. It was very beautiful, you should have been there. Not very many people, true, and some came only out of curiosity, but no matter for that. Two police officers were there, too. But you should have seen the church! The vicar paled when he made his solemn entrance and saw the colourful coffin. I went to a florist in Oslo, a man who's a real artist with flowers. I thought that only the best was good enough. I didn't want what people usually order for funerals. Bouquets and so on, in pink or blue. But huge garlands made from yellow and orange flowers. Something truly Indian, if you know what I mean. He was really excited and you should have seen the result. The temperature in the church rose by several degrees. It was like dancing flames on the dark mahogany coffin. We played Indian music. I think her brother really would have approved.
"We were six pallbearers and at first I was a little nervous. What if there wasn't going to be enough of us? But Karsten helped out, believe it or not, and Kalle and me and Bjørnsson from work. And two police officers. The last thing we did for Poona was to sing. Did you know that Kalle has a lovely voice?
"I didn't ask anyone back to the house. Thought Karsten might invite himself, but he left as quickly as he could. Oh, well. It's not easy for him. He's so scared of everything. I'm not afraid of anything any more. Not of God or the Devil or death. That's nice in a way. I will take each day as it comes.
"I'm back at work. That's why I'm so late. Young Bjørnsson is actually quite a nice chap. It was good to see them all again. At first they were a little awkward with me, didn't know quite what to say. But then they relaxed. I think they really respect me now. Everything that has happened has made them look at me in a new light. Svarstad even dropped by, probably sheer curiosity. But it was nice all the same. He's ever so pleased with the Quadrant. He's the only farmer in the district to have one.
"Today I bought a chicken. I've never been a very adventurous cook, but I went to an ethnic shop and asked for spices for the chicken. It didn't turn out red like Poona's chicken, but all the same it reminded me a little of the food in Tandel's Tandoori. Did you know that they colour their food? Here we think ourselves above that.
"It's extraordinary that you can survive on those few drops seeping into your veins. It looks like skimmed milk, but the doctor says it's sugar, fat and protein. Karsten is coming to visit you tomorrow. I know he's dreading it. But then I have no idea what he does when he sits here alone. Perhaps he talks the hind legs off a donkey? Though I doubt that. I have a strong suspicion that when you wake up they'll call me, even though he's your husband.
"I sleep quite well at night. There is a sadness in me, it feels as if I've gained some weight, but in fact I have lost a couple of kilos. But then I pull myself together and try to remember that after winter comes a new spring. Then I'll work miracles on Poona's grave. They don't give you much space, but God knows I'll make the most of it. I'm taking good care of her few belongings. The clothes in the suitcase, the little banana-shaped bag and the jewellery. The brooch she wore in the coffin and the same outfit as when we got married. It was like glacier lake water, deep turquoise. I remember her face. It's destroyed now, I know, because he smashed it with a stone. Or something like that, they aren't sure. But it doesn't upset me, I never saw it so I can't believe it either. I suppose that's a good thing, Marie. That people can believe what they want?"
Sejer read Skarre's report from the latest interviews. Anders Kolding had been tracked down in his sister's flat in Gothenburg, slightly drunk but still able to explain himself. He said he needed a break. He hadn't run away from anything. No, I couldn't have turned left, but it's true that I turned the light off. Didn't want to be flagged down and risk getting a fare in the wrong direction. I drove straight back to town, for Christ's sake! Ulla Mark admitted that she had several times broken off her relationship with Gøran. She had always gone back to him, but she stated that this time it was final. Yes, he did sometimes keep dumbbells and other gym equipment in the car. If Adonis was packed then he didn't want to have to wait for the different machines. Lillian Sunde went on denying that she had had any dealings with the accused, yes, she knew the rumours, but that was the sort of place Elvestad was, a rumour mill. Someone had probably spotted them when they danced that time at the disco in town. Linda Carling repeated more or less word for word her earlier statement. A blond man in a white shirt running after a woman in dark clothes. "A red car stood parked in the roadside. It could have been a Golf." Karen Krantz, Linda's friend, was certain that they could rely on Linda's statement. She was terrified of getting it wrong, she said. So what she's telling you is what she saw. Ole Gunwald was quite sure that he had twice heard the sound of a car starting up. Fifteen minutes apart. Why twice? Sejer wondered.