She took out two tiny home-made envelopes and passed one to me along with a white beaker as she wriggled out of her puffer jacket. Her arms were scarily thin and I wondered how such a small body could cope with her line of business. Having removed her jacket, she took back her drugs and prepared them with practised motions. Her withdrawal symptoms had gone, exorcised at the mere prospect of a fix.
‘Who hired you?’ I asked while she worked away.
‘I’ve never seen him before,’ Marie replied, never taking her eyes off the beaker. ‘It might sound like a big fat lie, but he wore a hat and sunglasses and he had a beard.’
Sunglasses. In a flash, I remembered the man from the book signing, but I couldn’t remember whether he had a beard. All I could remember was the sunglasses and the smile he had given me, but I was fairly certain he hadn’t been wearing a hat and he didn’t have a beard.
‘Could it have been false beard?’
‘What do I know? His money was real enough.’
‘What did you have to do?’
‘And he was speaking in a weird way, spooky.’
‘You mean he changed his voice?’ I asked.
‘I think so,’ Marie replied.
‘What did he say?’
‘He showed me a photo of the bastard, Paedo, I mean, and told me to wait for him outside the hotel. When he came out, I was to make him come up with me to room 102, that was all, the easiest money I’ve ever made.’ She snorted. ‘Though he was creepy … intense, like. I’m good with numbers, but he insisted I repeated it ten times at least. 102, 102, 102 … psycho.’
The heroin was ready and Marie sucked the fluid into a syringe and handed it to me.
‘Wouldn’t it be better if you did that yourself?’ I asked.
‘Nope,’ Marie replied. ‘Almost all my veins are messed up so it’s got to go in the neck. I’m not bloody doing that myself.’ She tilted her head and bared her throat. Her artery stood proud on her fragile neck, like a crease in a white tablecloth. There were already a couple of needle scars.
I swallowed even though my mouth felt dry. I took the syringe. ‘Are you sure?’ I said.
She nodded. ‘Quite sure.’
I grabbed hold of her neck with one hand and tried to work out where to insert the needle. ‘And what happened then?’ I asked.
‘After some time Paedo came out of the hotel, just like he had said. The bastard even grinned when he saw me, said he was just in the mood for meeting me. Wanker. He was so horny he didn’t even seem surprised when I told him I had a room ready where we could find out how much in the mood he really was.’
I held her neck with one hand and aimed the syringe with the other. The artery eluded my attempts at piercing it and Marie started to twitch.
‘Come on, man.’
The needle found its destination and Marie smiled.
‘What happened in the room, Lulu?’
‘Well, he was … you called me Lulu again,’ she protested.
‘Sorry, go on.’
‘Paedo was dead impatient and snatched the key from me to unlock the door. The lamp on the bedside table was lit, but apart from that it was dark. He pulled me inside and I closed the door like he told me to. I was scared shitless, man. Where the hell was the guy? I thought all I had to do was deliver Paedo and then get out of here. I hadn’t reckoned on being screwed by that disgusting pig.’
I pressed the fluid into the artery and pulled out the syringe. Marie responded with a sigh. A drop of blood trickled from her neck and I wiped it away with my thumb.
‘Carry on.’
‘Right, when Paedo passed the door to the toilet, he finally came forward, the guy. He looked exactly like he did the first time I met him, dressed in a coat, a hat, sunglasses and everything. And he had a gun.’ Marie giggled. ‘You should have seen Paedo. Got the shock of his life. Almost made it worth it. He started stuttering and sweating and his face went all red.’ Her voice had started to soften.
‘In his scary voice, the guy told Paedo to sit down on the bed. He did, nearly pissing himself. He was shaking all over and held up his hands as if he could stop a bullet with them.’ Marie laughed again. ‘I got my money. The guy stuck his hand into his coat pocket without taking his eyes off Paedo and pulled out an envelope and gave it to me. A big fat one. It was my payment plus a bit extra, he said, so I would keep my mouth shut.’ Marie sent me an embarrassed look. ‘But a girl’s gotta live.’
She smiled and her eyes took on a floating expression so I raised my voice.
‘What happened then?’
‘I left like he told me to,’ she replied.
‘Was that everything?’ I asked. My voice sounded high-pitched and agitated inside the confined space.
Marie shook her head and smiled again. ‘Mmmm,’ she whispered.
I grabbed her by the shoulders. ‘Tell me!’
Her eyelids were half closed.
I shook her gently. ‘Marie! Did you notice anything about the guy?’
She opened her eyes again. ‘You can call me Lulu now,’ she said, and smiled, while her eyes swam away again.
‘Anything!’
I shook her a little more forcefully and she widened her eyes with a hurt expression.
‘Did you see anything else?’
‘There was …’
‘Yes?’
‘A key,’ she mumbled. ‘He dropped a swipecard … when he pulled out the envelope … number 87.’
‘A hotel keycard?’
Marie nodded at first, but then she shook her head.
‘Not for the Marieborg,’ she said. ‘For the BunkInn.’
‘Hotel BunkInn, are you sure?’
She nodded slowly and with every nod her eyelids lowered. I shook her again, but she didn’t react. A small smile formed around her lips and she sank into the seat as if she could pass through its molecules.
I pulled away from Marie and stared at her. Now what? Should I leave her or wait? She had given me something to go on, but perhaps she knew more? Could I be sure that her memory was accurate?
I switched off the light in the car.
It was now very dark, but I could still see the outline of her. It started to get cold so I leaned over to put her back in her jacket. Her thin arms were limp and only reluctantly agreed to being stuffed into the sleeves again. It reminded me of the last time I got someone dressed. My daughters, oblivious in sleep and completely floppy as if their bones had dissolved. In this state they were helpless, trusting, at the mercy of those around them.
Having fumbled with the zip, I pulled it all the way up to Marie’s neck. She muttered to herself and shifted in the seat until her head rested against the window. Part of me wanted to stay there, watch her sleep, but another part urged me to move on. I had got what I came for. I had no idea how long she would be out of it and I felt a growing sense of impatience.
Marie didn’t react when I started the engine and drove back to Istedgade. The windows kept steaming up and I had to wipe the windscreen several times until the car had warmed up again. I drove up and down Istedgade a couple of times before I found Monica. She was getting out of a car, a small red Seat, and stretched her long body as the car accelerated and disappeared.
I drove closer and rolled down the window. ‘Monica!’
‘Hey, take it easy,’ she said, trotting towards me. ‘There’s plenty to go around.’ It took a moment before she recognized Marie and then me. ‘What the hell, it’s you again?’
‘Hello, Monica.’
‘You found her, I see.’
‘Yes, thanks,’ I replied. ‘But she needs some help getting home.’
‘What the hell have you done to her?’ Monica’s voice hardened.