She fell silent; in her thoughts she had now turned again as she approached the car.
"What could you see of the other person?"
"She was smaller than him. Dark."
"Dark? In what way?"
"Everything was dark. Her hair and clothes."
"You're sure it was a woman?"
"She ran like a woman," Linda said simply.
"Did you see the man's hands? Was he holding anything?"
"I don't think so."
"Go on."
Skarre made no notes. Everything she said burned into his brain.
"Then the car was in my way. I had to swerve. Then I had another look. The man had caught up with her again and they both fell over. Fell over in the grass."
"So they must have been partially obscured when you were watching from the road. Or could you still see something?"
"The man was, er, on top," she said, colouring a little. "I saw arms and legs. But then my bike wobbled and I had to watch the road."
"Did you hear anything?"
"A dog barking."
"Nothing else? Shouting or screaming? Or laughter, maybe."
"Nothing else."
"The car," Skarre said. "What do you recall of it?"
"That it was red."
"There are lots of shades of red. What kind?"
"Bright red. Fire engine red."
"Good," Skarre said. "Did you notice any details about the car as you passed it? Was there anyone in it?"
"No, it was empty. I did look inside."
"Registration plates?"
"Norwegian plates. But I don't remember the number."
"But it was facing you, as though it had come from Elvestad?"
"Yes," she said. "But it wasn't parked straight."
"Were the doors open?"
"On the passenger side."
"Did you see the interior of the car? Was it light or dark?"
"Dark, I think. I'm not sure. The paintwork was nice."
"You've no idea of the make or model?"
"No."
"And you're sure that no-one saw you?"
"Quite sure," she said. "They were only interested in each other. And anyway, a bike doesn't make any noise."
Skarre thought for a moment. Then he smiled at her.
"If there's anything you need, call me at the station. On this number."
He handed her his card. She clasped it hungrily. Jacob, it said. Skarre. She didn't want him to go, the whole thing had taken not even ten minutes. He thanked her and shook her hand. His hand was warm and firm.
"Tomorrow we'll have to ask you to show us the place where you saw the two of them. And where the car was too. As accurately as you can. Can you manage?"
"Absolutely," she burst out.
"Then we'll send an officer or two round tomorrow morning."
"OK," she said, disappointed.
She clutched the card. Knew that there was nothing else. The memory flickered, blurred, without detail. She said a quick prayer that more things, that something decisive would come to her in her dreams. She had to see this man again! He was hers. She had been waiting for him. Everything was right. His face, his hair, his blond curls. The uniform. She tilted her head and lowered her eyes bashfully, as she had a habit of doing.
If there's anything you need!
What did he mean by that? He could have meant anything. She locked the door behind him and tiptoed into the living room. Hid behind the curtain and watched him drive away. We'll send round an officer or two. Pooh! She went to the bathroom and cleaned her teeth. Ran up the stairs to the first floor. Stood in front of the mirror in her room and started brushing her hair in long strokes. It became static and started giving off sparks.
"Well, his name is Jacob," she said to the mirror. "How old is he? Twenty something. Definitely not yet thirty. Of course he's handsome. We're going out on Saturday, probably down the 'Stock Exchange'. They won't allow me in? I'm with a police officer, I'll get in anywhere! Am I in love? I'm head over heels." She watched her glowing cheeks. "I'm telling you, Karen, this time it's for real! This time I'm willing to go very far to get what I want. Very far indeed!"
Once more she heard engine noises from the drive. A heavy, throbbing diesel engine, familiar and at once unwelcome. Her mum was home. She switched off the light and slipped under the duvet. She did not want to talk now. When her mum found out, she would take everything away from her. Control it. She was the witness. What did they call it? Key witness. I'm Jacob's key witness, she thought, and closed her eyes. Her mum let herself in downstairs; she heard the faint click of the lock. Linda breathed as regularly as she could when her mum peeped in. Then it went quiet again. In her thoughts she was at Karen's house. I'm off now. Call you tomorrow. Then she got on her bike. The first part of the journey was a gentle downward slope towards the main road. The weather was mild and pleasant. Her bike made no sound as she rolled downhill. I'm cycling along in this beautiful weather. Stay focused, remember everything, trees to my left and right, not a soul on the road. I'm all alone and the birds are quiet because it's evening now, but not yet dark, and now I come out of the bend and I'm coming towards the meadow at Hvitemoen. In the distance I can see a red car. What does the registration plate say? Can't see it! Damn! I'm getting closer and have to swerve. There's movement to my right, some way away, there are people in the meadow. What are they doing? Running around like kids, even though they're grown-ups. She's trying to get away, but he's holding her arm. He's faster, it looks as if they're playing, it's almost like a dance, that's where I swerve to avoid the car; there's no-one in it, but I notice something white on the side window. A sticker. And I'm in the middle of the road before the bend and have to move quickly to the side, but I look across at the meadow one more time, where the two of them have just fallen over in the long grass. The man lies on top of the woman. I see an arm reach out and the man bending over and I'm thinking, God! They're going to have sex in the middle of the meadow, they're mad! He's wearing a white shirt; she has dark hair. He's bigger than she is, broader. His hair, is it blond? I've passed them now and I take a last look. They've disappeared in the grass. But the man was blond and there was a sticker in the car window. I absolutely have to ring Jacob.
Gunder had no wish to go home to the empty house. He would rather have stayed at the police station, in Inspector Sejer's office, the whole night. Close to the jewellery. Accessible in case someone should turn up with definitive information about the woman who had died. It couldn't be Poona! After all, he had not been allowed to identify her. I'm a coward, Gunder thought, I should have downright insisted. He thanked the policewoman and shuffled up the steps. He did not bother to lock the door behind him. He went into the living room, took out the photograph of Poona and himself from the drawer where he had hidden it. He looked at the yellow bag. What if they were wrong? They must have made hundreds or thousands of those banana-shaped bags. Marie, he thought, my job. Everything's falling apart. What did the man on the plane say? The soul remains at Gardermoen airport. Gunder understood now what he meant. He sat at his desk, a crumpled shell. He got up, sat down again and then wandered restlessly about the house. A flittering moth searching for the light.
Chapter 10
The police station was buzzing. Thirty men working at full stretch. They were all outraged at what had happened. A foreign woman wearing a Norwegian filigree brooch had arrived here, newly wed perhaps. Someone had attacked her as she neared her new home. They wanted to solve this crime, get the man. Their unspoken unanimity straightened their backs and steadied their gaze. First, the press conference. It robbed them of precious time, but they wanted to look the Norwegian people in the eye and say: "We will take care of this."
Sejer would have preferred not to be there, facing the reporters and their cameramen. A little metallic forest of microphones on the table. He recognised the ominous itching. He suffered from eczema and it was always worse when he felt ill at ease. Holthemann, his head of department, was sitting on his left and Karlsen was on his right. There was no escape. The demands of the media and the nation had to be satisfied: photographic material, investigation strategy, updates, information about the composition of the team, their experience, previous cases they had investigated.