Sejer touched his head. His vision was blurred. ‘Oh, nothing. I don’t know.’ Baffled, he rubbed his eyes. The dizziness began to subside and Skarre, who was standing in front of him, came into focus once more.
‘Are you ill?’
‘Certainly not.’
Sejer wanted to walk on. He did so cautiously. Skarre hurried after him.
‘Haven’t you eaten?’ he asked. He had never seen the inspector lose his balance like that.
‘Of course I’ve eaten,’ Sejer said. ‘Now don’t fuss.’
They had reached the lift. Sejer had regained his composure. He pushed the button and below the lift whirred into motion.
‘I imagine your blood pressure plummeted,’ Skarre muttered.
‘Get in the lift,’ Sejer said.
They entered the lift. Sejer studied his younger colleague and decided to confide in him.
‘My stumbling is unlikely to be serious,’ he said. ‘But every morning when I go to the bathroom, something unpleasant happens. When I look in the mirror, I see this older man staring back at me. He seems familiar. He has penetrating eyes as though he knows me better than I do. There’s something about that man that rattles me,’ Sejer said. ‘Something that makes me want to show him the door.’
Skarre looked at the grey-haired inspector.
‘I’ve known that man a long time,’ he said. ‘He’s quite all right, really.’
CHAPTER 17
Dear diary,
Every one of us harbours guilt, every one of us has sinned in some way or other. I’m not talking about original sin, I don’t believe in that, but we’re not very old before we sin for the first time. We’re not very old before we lie or steal. Or speak ill of someone. We have all hated someone and felt envy surge through our bodies. We have all been greedy, we have all taken something that was not rightfully ours. We have all wanted to lash out or scream, we have all felt that rage inside us and perhaps thought the sensation felt good. Yet some people dance their way through life. And those who ought to feel shame, haven’t got the sense to feel it. Nevertheless I can forgive myself for most things, not for what happened in December, but for everything else. That I nicked money from Mum’s purse to buy chocolate when I was a boy, as kids do. Perhaps I ought to have told her, though I imagine she already knows because mums are canny; they’re always ahead of you. It would have been good to have something to blame it on, a bad childhood, or bad friends. Dad left us, but Mum never gave me cause to miss him. She was a mother and father to me. So if I end up in court I will hang my head and no defence counsel will find mitigating circumstances. I wonder what it’s like to lose someone, never having a grave, a concrete place to go – a small plot to weed, a place to plant something which can grow where the deceased rests. Not to have any of these things, but to live in ignorance while your imagination runs riot. When I think about that I feel ill, and I am consumed with such self-loathing that I can barely breathe. My disgust with myself thickens my blood. When I wake up in the morning the sheet is soaked with contempt. Reilly just gets high. I can understand why, I would like to have something like that, something that quells the despair. When it comes to Axel, I find it hard to fathom him, but he takes after his mother, and she’s a bitch, someone who just takes what they want without a thought for anyone else. So it runs in the family. Devil eggs breed devil children, Reilly says. He’s always got something apt to say because he reads so much. Reilly is a slow and meek guy. Sometimes he seems indifferent or lethargic, but perhaps he will surprise us after all. Axel is the boss and always has been, but Reilly works away quietly on the side. I would not rule out the possibility that he might do something one day. Something dramatic which will upset the equilibrium.
CHAPTER 18
The pain in Axel’s wisdom tooth grew steadily worse and on the third day when he came home from work, he pulled off his clothes and went straight to bed. He switched off the light. He curled up against the wall. He lay with a flannel pressed against his cheek and at regular intervals he went to the bathroom to rinse it in cold water and wring it out. This relieved the pain for a few minutes. He moved the cloth around his face, across his cheeks and forehead, while he emitted faint groans. The pain filled his head. It made him tense his muscles, and the tension increased the pain. It was a vicious circle. When the doorbell rang, he stayed in bed. But whoever it was refused to go away and eventually he staggered out into the hall.
‘Bloody hell, you look a sight,’ Reilly said.
‘It’s spreading,’ Axel groaned. ‘It’s spreading across my jaw.’
‘Shouldn’t you go to the hospital, then?’
‘I don’t know. I feel nauseous. I’m clammy with sweat.’
Axel leaned against the wall for support. He stared at a point on the floor which started to move as he watched. It was a spider. He squashed it with his heel.
‘They’ve found a body,’ Reilly said. ‘In Glitter Lake.’
Axel’s jaw dropped. ‘You’re kidding.’
‘They’ve found a body. They say he’s Asian.’
Axel froze. For the first time in a long while the unbearable pain faded into the background.
‘Come on,’ he said. ‘Let’s sit down.’
He collapsed in a chair, still pressing the cloth against his cheek. Axel’s furniture was covered in buffalo hide. He enjoyed the idea that the armchairs and sofa had once thundered across the savannah. Now it felt that way, literally, as if the chair was moving beneath him. The flannel against his cheek had long since reached room temperature, but it helped nevertheless. It was a symbol, like a bandage on a wound. The squashed spider was still stuck to his heel.
‘It can’t be him,’ he mumbled.
‘Of course it can,’ Reilly said.
‘And when will they know who he is?’
‘It’ll probably take some time,’ Reilly suggested. ‘I imagine he’s badly decomposed now as well; he’s been lying there for months.’
He pulled off his long coat.
‘They have to be certain. But once they know his identity, they’ll start working their way back to 19 December. They won’t give up. They’ll find us, Axel.’
He went to the window and looked out. No huge tankers on the river today, only smaller boats.
‘I wonder what kind of view I’ll have from my cell,’ he muttered.
‘Please would you shut up?’ Axel groaned. ‘My throat hurts too. I think the infection has spread to my throat. I wonder if I’ll get blood poisoning.’
He moved the cloth to his forehead and wiped away some beads of sweat.
‘So they’ve found a bloody Chink?’
Reilly turned. ‘I don’t know where he’s from,’ he said, ‘but it doesn’t look good for us.’
‘Guilt has to be proven beyond all reasonable doubt,’ Axel said. ‘We have many advantages. They’ll have to work very hard.’
‘What about the truth?’ Reilly said gravely.
Axel waved irritably with his other arm. ‘You’re so naive,’ he said. ‘Where do you think the truth will get us? Do you think truth is a limousine that will take us to a five-star hotel with a lobby full of cheering fans? The truth is unpleasant, Reilly. Ingerid Moreno doesn’t want it. We owe it to Jon to preserve his good name. Remember, that name will live on for generations.’
‘You’re thinking very long term,’ Reilly remarked.
Axel nodded. ‘That’s the difference between us,’ he said. ‘Your only concern is to relieve your conscience. You think the truth will set you free, that it will lift you to new heights. That you’ll get back everything you had before this miserable business ever happened. But you never will. One of us has to consider the consequences. You’re really incredibly selfish, Reilly, it’s all about you and your scruples.’
‘Actually I was thinking about Ingerid,’ Reilly mumbled.