immediately took a step or two back.
‘For goodness’ sake, Holger! Don’t be such an idiot! Listen, we can’t leave Alva in there on her own, can we? She’ll wear the children out.’
Holger Skagestøl controlled himself, cast a final look of irritation in my direction before turning his back on me and following his wife inside. ‘She’s reading to them, Sidsel!’
Neither of them took the time to say a formal goodbye to me. My duty as a chauffeur was done; and I hadn’t been much of a sleuth either. In fact, the only thing I could be credited with was that I’d more or less just happened to be there.
I got into the car, turned in the driveway, and then drove slowly down the steep slope to Sædalen, thinking: Surely the police must have seen it?
Sixteen
SHOULD I CHANCE IT and call Muus straight away, at the risk of receiving a thorough bollocking as soon as I opened my mouth? Or should I do as he’d told me: mind my own business?
The problem was that I didn’t have any business at the moment, and the devil makes work … The death notice I’d received in the post lay there smouldering away in my desk drawer, a sword poised over my head, and I preferred to push it out of my mind.
I called Paul Finckel.
‘Oh my God!’ he groaned. ‘Is this the big “Be nice to Paul” day or what? Or have you got something new to tell me?’
‘No … It’s just that I’ve been up to the place where the body was found.’
‘What? So you didn’t go right down to it?’
‘No. No, I didn’t.’
‘No, because it’s supposed to be a restricted area for everybody!’
‘It was.’
‘Well, did you go up there alone or what?’
‘No, with the girl’s mother. It was she who asked me to do it.’
‘With the mother, you say? How did she take it? You do realise this could make one hell of a headline, Varg?’
‘You know me, Paul. I don’t want to appear in the paper!’
‘You are a news item, Varg! You can’t help it.’
‘I can help it if you want anything more out of me, though.’
‘OK, only out with it –’
‘She took it well, Paul. Shocked and upset, of course, but – quite normal for a mother who’s just lost her daughter. There’s nothing to say, Paul. Nothing to tell you.’
‘So why the hell did you call me, then?’
‘To ask you one more question.’
‘Well, didn’t I just know it?!’ He fumbled with the receiver. ‘Come on, don’t hold back: spit it out and tell uncle!’
‘You press people always run something on the witnesses. This jogger who found the corpse, have you got his name?’
‘His name? I don’t even know what type of trainers he uses! The police haven’t given us a scrap of information about him.’
‘But it is a man?’
‘Well, he was certainly referred to as he the first time I talked to them at the station.’
‘But you must have some sources down there, surely? No leaks?’
‘Not a drop, Varg, not one … Pretty amazing, actually, don’t you think?’
‘Right. That’s just what I thought too.’
But afterwards I felt reassured. The police had seen it too.
♦
If nothing else, idleness led to restless pacing to and fro across my office floor.
I glanced at the Nordnes calendar on the wall. Maybe I should take a leaf out of Muus’s book: circle in red the date which Anon had chosen as the day for my final curtain: Wednesday, the following week.
Was I to conclude that today was consequently my last Friday ever and make it a Friday to beat all Fridays? Ought I to book a suite at the Solstrand Fjord Hotel and invite Karin to come along for a winter weekend she’d never forget? Or, struck by the paralysis that would overcome anyone who received such a message, should I lie down and abandon all hope …?
For several minutes I racked my brains trying to think who on earth could have thought of sending me such a message. It could be a sort of sick joke, of course, but the only person in my circle of acquaintances who had both
‘For goodness’ sake, Holger! Don’t be such an idiot! Listen, we can’t leave Alva in there on her own, can we? She’ll wear the children out.’
Holger Skagestøl controlled himself, cast a final look of irritation in my direction before turning his back on me and following his wife inside. ‘She’s reading to them, Sidsel!’
Neither of them took the time to say a formal goodbye to me. My duty as a chauffeur was done; and I hadn’t been much of a sleuth either. In fact, the only thing I could be credited with was that I’d more or less just happened to be there.
I got into the car, turned in the driveway, and then drove slowly down the steep slope to Sædalen, thinking: Surely the police must have seen it?
Sixteen
SHOULD I CHANCE IT and call Muus straight away, at the risk of receiving a thorough bollocking as soon as I opened my mouth? Or should I do as he’d told me: mind my own business?
The problem was that I didn’t have any business at the moment, and the devil makes work … The death notice I’d received in the post lay there smouldering away in my desk drawer, a sword poised over my head, and I preferred to push it out of my mind.
I called Paul Finckel.
‘Oh my God!’ he groaned. ‘Is this the big “Be nice to Paul” day or what? Or have you got something new to tell me?’
‘No … It’s just that I’ve been up to the place where the body was found.’
‘What? So you didn’t go right down to it?’
‘No. No, I didn’t.’
‘No, because it’s supposed to be a restricted area for everybody!’
‘It was.’
‘Well, did you go up there alone or what?’
‘No, with the girl’s mother. It was she who asked me to do it.’
‘With the mother, you say? How did she take it? You do realise this could make one hell of a headline, Varg?’
‘You know me, Paul. I don’t want to appear in the paper!’
‘You are a news item, Varg! You can’t help it.’
‘I can help it if you want anything more out of me, though.’
‘OK, only out with it –’
‘She took it well, Paul. Shocked and upset, of course, but – quite normal for a mother who’s just lost her daughter. There’s nothing to say, Paul. Nothing to tell you.’
‘So why the hell did you call me, then?’
‘To ask you one more question.’
‘Well, didn’t I just know it?!’ He fumbled with the receiver. ‘Come on, don’t hold back: spit it out and tell uncle!’
‘You press people always run something on the witnesses. This jogger who found the corpse, have you got his name?’
‘His name? I don’t even know what type of trainers he uses! The police haven’t given us a scrap of information about him.’
‘But it is a man?’
‘Well, he was certainly referred to as he the first time I talked to them at the station.’
‘But you must have some sources down there, surely? No leaks?’
‘Not a drop, Varg, not one … Pretty amazing, actually, don’t you think?’
‘Right. That’s just what I thought too.’
But afterwards I felt reassured. The police had seen it too.
♦
If nothing else, idleness led to restless pacing to and fro across my office floor.
I glanced at the Nordnes calendar on the wall. Maybe I should take a leaf out of Muus’s book: circle in red the date which Anon had chosen as the day for my final curtain: Wednesday, the following week.
Was I to conclude that today was consequently my last Friday ever and make it a Friday to beat all Fridays? Ought I to book a suite at the Solstrand Fjord Hotel and invite Karin to come along for a winter weekend she’d never forget? Or, struck by the paralysis that would overcome anyone who received such a message, should I lie down and abandon all hope …?
For several minutes I racked my brains trying to think who on earth could have thought of sending me such a message. It could be a sort of sick joke, of course, but the only person in my circle of acquaintances who had both
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