The shop had a special smell. Of bread and coffee and sweet chocolate. She nodded to the shopkeeper and went over to the icebox. Took her time. Gunwald lived right next to the meadow. If he'd been standing by his window he would have seen what she had, but closer. Unless he was shortsighted. He wore spectacles with thick lenses. Gunwald didn't have any of the new, cool ice creams, just the old-fashioned Pinup and Krone ones. She chose a Pinup, tore off the paper and placed the ice cream between her sharp front teeth. Then she rummaged round her pocket for money.
"So you're out and about today?" Gunwald said. "Every time I see you you've grown half a metre, but I still recognise you. You walk like your mother."
Linda couldn't stand this type of comment, but she smiled anyway and put the money on the counter. A newspaper was open next to his till; he was reading about the murder. A truly horrific crime, a headline called it.
"I can't even begin to understand this," Gunwald said, pointing at the newspaper. "Here. In Elvestad. Something like this. I'd never have believed it."
Linda placed her lips over the chocolate coating and it started to melt.
"Think about the killer! He goes around reading about himself in the paper," he went on.
Linda's teeth bit through the soft chocolate coating.
"Well, he got a surprise today," she said.
"Really?"
The shopkeeper pushed his glasses down his nose.
"Today he'll read that he was actually seen. Practically while committing the murder."
Gunwald's eyes widened.
"What's that? It doesn't say so here." He had another look at the page.
"Yes it does. Down there." She leaned over the till and pointed. "A key witness has come forward. The witness passed the crime scene on a bike at the crucial time and noticed a man and a woman in the meadow, where the victim was later found. The witness also noticed a red car parked on the roadside."
"Good God!" Gunwald said. "That witness, could that be someone from around here?"
"It must be," said Linda, nodding.
"But then they might have a description and all that. They'll probably catch him now. Like I always say, not many of them get away with it in the end."
He carried on reading. Linda ate her ice cream.
"She must have seen something," she said. "Anyway, the police don't give away everything. Perhaps she saw much more than it says there. I suppose they have to protect witnesses like that."
She imagined Jacob in her living room, being responsible for her life. She felt a delightful chill down her spine.
Gunwald looked up at her. "She? It's a woman?"
"Doesn't it say so?" said Linda innocently.
"No. Just 'witness'."
"Hm," Linda said. "It might have been in another paper."
"It'll be clear soon enough," Gunwald said. He took another look at Linda and the half-eaten ice cream.
"I didn't think young women ate ice cream," he said, laughing. "They're always watching their weight."
"Not me," Linda said. "I don't have any problems with that."
Then she left the shop, licked the stick quite clean and got on her bike. Perhaps there would be someone she knew at the café. Two cars were outside. Einar's estate car and Gøran's red one. She parked her bike and stood for a while staring a Gøran's car. It wasn't big, but not small either. Newly washed, the paintwork in good nick. And red like a fire engine. She went over to the car and took a closer look. On the left side window was a round sticker. ADONIS it said. Then she made up her mind to have a look from further away, to view it from the same angle as she had seen the other car out at Hvitemoen. She crossed the road to Mode's Shell petrol station and stood there looking. In some ways it could have been a car like that. Whatever that was. But a lot of cars looked the same. Her mum used to say that cars had no distinguishing features any more. But that was not altogether true. She went back across the road and walked up close to the car. Gøran drove a Golf. So now she knew that. And there were lots of cars sporting stickers. For example her mum had the yellow sticker for the air ambulance in the rear window of her car. She went into the café where a crowd was gathered: Gøran, Mode, Nudel and Frank. The man called Frank was known by another name which people used when they wanted to say something derogatory or make a friendly joke: Margit's Achievement. This was because his mother, Margit, had moaned and groaned during the entire pregnancy, paralysed by fear of the birth. The doctor said that it would be a big baby, he had weighed more than six kilos. He was still big. They nodded to her and she nodded back. Einar was sullen as always. She bought a Coke, then went over to the jukebox and put in a one-krone coin. It only took the old-fashioned sort, they were in a bowl next to it and were used over and over. When they were all gone Einar would empty the jukebox and put the coins back in the bowl again. There was never one missing. A miracle, Linda thought. She looked through the titles and picked out "Eloïse". While she was standing there Gøran came over. He stopped and gave her a hard look. She noticed that his face was badly scratched. She looked away.
"Why were you studying my car?"
Linda jumped. She had not realised that anyone would have been able to see her.
"Studying your car?" she said, frightened. "I wasn't studying anything."
Gøran watched her intently. She noticed more scarlet stripes on his face and on one of his hands. He went back to his table. She stayed standing, listening to the music, confused. Had Gøran been in a fight? He wasn't normally aggressive. He was a cheerful, chatty guy with lots of confidence. Perhaps he'd had a row with Ulla. They said that she was worse than a Tasmanian Devil, when she got mad. Linda didn't know what a Tasmanian Devil was, but it would appear to be something with claws. Gøran and Ulla had been going out for a year now and Karen used to say that that was when the rows began. She shrugged and sat by the window. The others looked the other way and she felt unwelcome. Baffled, she sipped her Coke and stared out of the window. Should she call Jacob and tell him about this incident? If she remembered something she only had to call. Now she'd seen Gøran's car, seen the resemblance.
"Good afternoon. It's Linda."
"Hello, Linda. Is that you again? Does this mean you've got something else to tell me?"
"It may not be important, but it's about the car. I wonder if it mightn't have been a Golf."
"You've seen one like it?"
"Yes. Precisely."
"In Elvestad?"
"Yes, but it's not the one because I know the guy who owns it, but it looks like it. If you know what I mean."
She was lost in her dreams. Wondering and wondering. How many red cars were there in Elvestad? She thought about that. Gunder Jomann had a red Volvo. But apart from that? She thought hard. The doctor. He had a red estate car, similar to Einar's. She sipped her Coke and stared out of the window. Listened to the voices from the other table. "Eloïse" was ended. Einar was making a clatter with ashtrays and glasses. She was convinced that Einar went around with a cloth like that at home. He wiped the seats and tables and window frames and probably his wife too and kids and everything. But Gøran and the red scratches. He terrified her.
Chapter 11
Anders Kolding was twenty-five years old. Slim build with brown eyes and a small mouth. He wore his cabbie uniform which was far too big for him and white sports socks in black loafers. His eyes were bloodshot.
"The baby?" Sejer said.
"He's asleep in the car. Couldn't risk waking him now. He's got colic," he said. "And I'm working shifts. I sleep in the car between trips."
He placed a well-worn money changer on the desk. The leather cover was fraying.
"This murder in Elvestad – have you heard about it?"
"Yes." He looked at Sejer guiltily.
"Did you ever wonder that it could be the woman you drove from Gardermoen?"
"Not really," Kolding said. "I mean, not straightaway. I drive all kinds of people. Lots of foreigners."