Shetook a deep breath as though to restrain another outburst. She stood there withher eyes closed until she made up her mind and signalled her decision with ashake of the head.
'OK,no,' he said. 'But you'll have to come with me all the same.'
Whenshe did at last open her eyes they were shiny with tears. 'The case against meis time-sensitive,' she said, spinning round and continuing up the stairs withthe policeman in tow.
'We'llsee,' Gunnarstranda said to her back. 'Fortunately it is not my job todetermine whether the case against Helene Lockert's murderer is covered by thestatute of limitations or not.'
Shecame to a sudden halt.
Gunnarstrandacontinued speaking. 'I'm a policeman, not a judge. But I hope you won't resistarrest. It would just be embarrassing for us both.' He gave a wry smile.
'No,of course not,' she said, bewildered, running her hands down her dress asthough wiping off something unpleasant. 'We are both adults.' She grabbed adoor handle. 'I must change my clothes. What was it you wanted me to do?'
'Justring him and tell him you were there, at the nursing home on Sunday.'
'Tellhim I was with Reidar, that I visited him?'
'Yes.'
'Nothingelse?'
Thepoliceman coughed when he peered up at her now smiling face. 'What is it?'
'I'vealready done it,' she said. 'Funny.'
'You'vetold him? When?' Gunnarstranda's lean figure jerked. He ran over to her. Hissensitive lips were trembling. 'No more bluffing. When did you tell him?'
'Earlythis morning.'
'You'relying.'
Sheshook her head. 'I've been lying to myself too much to do it any more.'
'Butwhy today of all days?'
'Becausetoday I…' She breathed in and closed her eyes again.'… Today… when I woke up…'She paused.
'Whatabout today?' Gunnarstranda was staring at her. 'What do you mean?'
Witha distant smile, she said: 'What makes you think you would understand me if Iwere to answer that question honestly?'
Thepoliceman had his mobile out. He watched her with a concerned frown on hisforehead, then turned away from her with the phone against his ear. 'Don't goanywhere,' he said in a low voice while impatiently waiting for an answer from Frølich.And added in an even lower voice, 'Surely you must understand what an insanething to do it was to tell him you'd visited Bueng?'
'Idon't understand anything any more.'
'Ihope it's not too late,' Gunnarstranda said and swore. 'Where do you keep yourtoothbrush and toiletries? In the bathroom? Well, go and get them.'
Hefollowed her down the corridor with the mobile to his ear. He trailed her everystep. Something told him this woman should not be left alone for a singlesecond.
Chapter Forty-Five
Ayoung man with an oversized head, big hair and a strangely frail body squeezedinto a blue suit rounded the corner for the third time and looked at Frank Frølich,who jumped to his feet in his eagerness. 'Is Gerhardsen in or not?' Frølichasked, annoyed. He had been sitting and waiting for an audience for threequarters of an hour. The young man had protruding eyes and a swollen red pimpleon his cheek.
'He'sin a meeting,' came the answer. The young man didn't move.
'Didyou tell him I was waiting?'
Theyoung man nodded. He was wearing a dark blue shirt, which was the same colouras the wall-to- wall carpet on the floor. Around his neck he wore a brown silktie. The knot was much too loose. Young men with an irritating appearanceshould not be employed, thought Frølich, and, impatient, shifted hisweight from one foot to the other.
'Themeeting's going to last a long time,' the young man said with a grin.
Frølichthought: Men like you should be in the fields and woods. He said: 'Soyour boss thinks he can psyche me out, does he?' He went back to the chair andsat down.
Theyoung man stood there with his arms hanging down by his sides. What was itEva-Britt always said? I think men in dinner jackets can be quite sexy, butJames Bond should understand once and for all that he should not run around inthat kind of clothing. Frølich leaned forwards and eyed the youngman. Young men in suits shouldn't stand so erect with their arms down bytheir sides, he thought. It makes them look like standard lamps. 'Letthere be light,' he said with a smile.
Atthat moment his mobile telephone rang.
Chapter Forty-Six
Theeasy part was that the man was a patient. He looked down at his legs. Soft,light brown shoes and loose trousers. His legs were quite normal, his striderelaxed. The important thing is how it looks from the outside, not how it feelson the inside. The feeling of heaviness is sheer imagination.
Heturned left again and at an accelerated pace headed for the nursing home. Thelobby was deserted and quite still. A taxi was parked in front of the entrance.The taxi driver was waiting, so he was collecting, not delivering. He walkedpast the taxi and took the last few steps to the front entrance. As soon as heopened the door, the familiar smell hit him: the smell of old people, a pungentodour consisting of elements such as urine, dirt, dust, stale air and rottenorganic material. It smelled like an open grave. The irony of this image madehim smile. A young woman in a garish yellow sweater was sitting behind a lowglass partition arid speaking on the telephone. He went to the door and knockedpolitely against the door frame.
'ReidarBueng?' he asked, leaning against the wall.
Sheput down the receiver with a startled expression. 'I'm on placement here, so Idon't know my way around so well…'
'Astudent?' he smiled. 'Isn't there a list you can consult?'
'Yes,there is.' She put the receiver on the desk and searched through the paperwork.She was nervous she wouldn't find what she was looking for. Finally she lookedup. 'Room 104.'
'Thankyou,' he said and continued at a composed tempo down the corridor. He passedroom 104 without stopping, just a brief glance to see where he was in thecorridor. Through the windows he could see white clover flowers in the lawn. Anold man with a beret, white legs in enormous shorts and a spanner in his handwas standing over a dismantled lawnmower.
Hewent on and found a toilet further down the corridor. He entered, locked thedoor behind him and laid the briefcase on the toilet lid. At the bottom of thebriefcase, each in their own compartment, were plastic gloves, a hypodermicneedle and the serum. He put on the gloves and quickly assembled the syringe.Then he pressed down the plunger and sucked up one phial, then a second. Hereleased two drops into the toilet. Ready for use. Goodness me, hethought. Someone has been given the wrong medication today. He hid theweapon in his jacket pocket. Then he inspected the pocket in the mirror. Itlooked as it should. He put his sunglasses back on and breathed in beforeopening the toilet door and walking slowly down the corridor.
Not asoul around, neither to the left nor the right. Think about her. Feel herfury. Think how she would crush you! He proceeded without hurrying to room104. His breathing was regular: out, in, out, in; he knocked twice. Not a soundfrom inside. Time to complete the job, he thought, grasping the door handle.
'You'reworried about me,' Sigrid Haugom confirmed after they had got into the car.'You think I'm psychotic. Maybe you think I might harm myself?'
'I'monly doing my job,' Gunnarstranda said, donning his jacket, starting the engineand driving off.
'Isit part of your job to watch women sitting on the loo and having a pee?'
'Ididn't watch you. It's my job to stay on the heels of arrestees. You are not thefirst in that regard.'