'Arealist researching super-sensory phenomena?'
'Yes,by preference, ghosts.' She smiled. 'The thing about ghosts is – they like tohang around cemeteries, don't they? And they show themselves at night. Sothey're not there during the day. Torstein's theory is based on the notion thatwhen a dead person's essence or soul leaves the flesh – the body- and becomes a ghost, then ghostly activities tend to take place in cemeteriesat night – or ghosts haunt the places where they met their tragic death. WhatTorstein devotes his mathematical talent to is finding a mathematical formula.He is searching for the points around the cemetery or the haunted zone – andthe time-segments during the day – that demarcate ghostly activity. In otherwords, whatever it is that regulates the energy of the ghosts. Imagine you're aghost – the idea is you are active within certain limits: this is where Ispook, this far and no further; I don't haunt areas outside these limits.Torstein's theory is based on the notion that if ghosts are active in specifiedareas and at specified times, then it is his task to find these limits. And hisaim is to position himself on the boundary and drive the ghost mad, that is, totease the ghost.'
Shewent quiet.
'You'rekidding?'
'No.Torstein has filled several files with his calculations.'
Gunnarstrandacleared his throat and ogled his empty beer glass. He didn't know what to say.
Tove stifleda chuckle. 'Torstein's real aim,' she said, 'which is the basis of hisapplication for a scholarship, is to find energy; he believes there have to beenergy fields at these points that delimit ghosts' activity, and this energy iswhat most occupies his interest. He believes that if he can solve the mysteryof this energy, he will be able to solve the parapsychological enigma.'
Shelapsed back into silence. Her eyes were both expectant and brimming withmischief. 'It is only after living with him for fifteen years that you realizehe's crazy. The problem is that he appears to be able to think and actnormally, but something isn't right – and then you end up with border valuesfor ghosts.'
Gunnarstrandapulled a face. 'I think I understand you,' he said. 'I think I understand.'
Hewaved an arm in the air to attract the waitress's attention. 'Bill,' he said.
'You'renot getting away so easily,' she said.
Hestared at her.
'Investigationor no investigation – you can make time for the cinema.' She delved into herbag with a hand and pulled out two tickets.
'Isee,' he wavered and then took one of the tickets. 'What's it about?'
Shelooked up with a smile: 'Ghosts.'
Chapter 14
FrankFrølich rang the bell by Ingrid Jespersen's door at half past eight in themorning. She explained over the intercom that she wasn't up yet. 'I can wait,'Frølich said obligingly.
'Infact I am up,' she said. 'But I'm only wearing my dressing gown.'
Frølichbent his knees to be able to speak through the two-way loudspeaker. 'That'sfine,' he said. 'I'll wait.'
'Butit's so cold outside,' she said. 'You can wait indoors.'
'That'skind of you,' Frølich said, an image of Mr Bean flashing through his mindbecause his knees were splayed and he was talking to the wall.
'Thedoor's open,' she said and pressed the button to buzz him in.
Shekept Frølich waiting twenty minutes. He found himself a chair in the kitchenand soon confirmed that the lady had the same taste as Eva-Britt as far asfitted kitchens were concerned. The cupboard doors were coordinated and manywere made of glass. When Ingrid came out of the bathroom, there was a strongfragrance of perfume. Even though the bags under her eyes were still big anddark, her face seemed less strained today. 'I don't sleep well,' she explained.'I keep thinking that he died downstairs and I might have been lying awakewhile he was bleeding to death…' She looked around. 'But we can't sit here.'
Shetook him to a living room in a wing of the flat he didn't remember seeing onthe previous visit. She cleared away a glass and an empty bottle of wine fromthe round table. 'I haven't turned to drink,' she assured him. 'But I get sotwitchy in the evening. The flat's so big.'
Henodded.
'Ilook in all the cupboards and check under all the beds before I go to bed. Ilock all the rooms which have keys. I'm afraid someone might be there.'
Henodded again.
'Idaren't take sleeping pills because I'm afraid I won't wake up if…'
Frølichwaited for her to continue.
Shesent him an apologetic smile and nervously stroked the back of her hand withtwo fingers.
'If…what?'
Sheshuddered. 'If someone came.'
'Who?'he asked.
'Mm?'
'Whowould come?'
Shestared stiffly in front of her.
Hewaited.
'I'mconsidering moving into a hotel,' she said at length.
Frølichstill said nothing.
'AndI get such a guilty conscience, I mean… being frightened for myself when Reidaris the one who is dead. Do you understand?'
FrankFrølich nodded.
Sheleaned towards him and looked into his eyes. 'I don't know if he was attackedor…'
Frølichheld eye-contact and waited for her to go on.
'Idon't know if I'm in danger, do I?'
'Whywould you be in any danger?'
Sheshivered. She glared at him. 'It was a break-in, wasn't it?'
Frølichsaid nothing.
'Iwant to know if I'm in danger!' she snarled.
'Areyou frightened of being attacked here at home?'
'ShouldI be?' she retorted. 'Can you tell me?'
FrankFrølich cleared his throat and considered his words. 'We have no reason tosuspect that anyone in your husband's circle is in any danger,' he said. 'If,on the other hand, you feel threatened…'
'ButI don't know anything!' she interrupted. 'You're not telling me anything!'
'Doyou feel threatened?' he repeated.
Shelowered her eyes, silent.
Hesat watching her. Black suited her. Furthermore there was a patch oftransparent, patterned material at the front of her dress. The white skinunderneath the black made her look incredibly sexy. Her figure was lithe,graceful. She reminded him of something. She had the same effortless control ofher limbs that cats have, he thought, and tried not to reveal this suddeninterest in her feminine charms. But at once he was clear that she had notnoticed anything; she was in another world, immersed in thought. She brokeloose with a shudder and folded her arms in front of her chest – as thoughremembering in a flash that he was present.
'Originallyyou were a professional dancer, weren't you?' he asked.
Shedidn't seem to hear. 'I think I'm going to move,' she said in a distant voice.'Yes indeed, I will move.'
Frølichtried for a couple of seconds to put himself in her position. He wondered if heshould repeat what he had said and tell her that there was no reason to feelthreatened. 'Do you know if your husband had any reason to feel threatened?' heasked.
'No,'she said.
'Do youwish us to adopt any special measures, to give you protection?'
Shestared at him.
'Ifthat would reassure you…'
'Doyou think I'm being ridiculous?'
'Notat all. It's an offer. We're happy to discuss measures that might improve yoursituation.'
'No,'she said. 'I don't need any protection.'
Frølichobserved her for a moment before repeating: 'Originally you were a professionaldancer, weren't you?'
'Oh,that's many years ago,' she said wearily. 'But as a matter of fact you'reright. I used to dance ballet. Then I taught for a few years, working as adancing teacher, not far from here. I had a little room in Frognerveien.There's a restaurant there now, and a coffee bar. I often have my lunch there,from time to time anyway. It's nice to sit there, you know. Nice to think abouthow things change over time, isn't it? It's been a supermarket too, if you canremember the chain of shops called IRMA. They took the place over from me. But,as I said, that came to an end, the dance school that is. I got fed up and withmy lack of economic sense it could only go one way.'