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“It’s funny,” Frank said, eyeing up the chessboard with calm precision. “Sometimes what you see isn’t really what you saw. Leastways, not the way you think you saw it.”

I let Frank continue.

“Ed and I grew up together. Trusted each other. Of course, like I said, sometimes things aren’t what they seem.”

His fingers touched a knight. Paused. He chewed his lower lip, concentrating. I felt as if he was on the cusp of revealing something — one of those “small-town secrets” he was prone to remark about, the ones that made you an insider.

“What happened was stupid. There was no reason for it. It was Saturday and we were doing what we always did. Only difference is that it was raining and Nicole was there. She was Ed’s girl at the time.” His eyes came up, caught mine, then went back to the chessboard. “We were hanging out at Ed’s house, drinking beer and watching the storm. We ran out of beer and had to get some more. We flipped for it and Ed lost.”

Frank closed his fingers over the knight but didn’t lift it from the board.

“He didn’t really lose, though. I had this two-headed buffalo nickel, some gag thing, and I used it. I tell myself I didn’t know, that I just had it in my pocket, but I knew. I liked Nicole and she liked me just enough to make me flip that coin.” Frank looked embarrassed. “So, I flipped the coin and sent Ed out in the rain to get the beer. He’d barely pulled out of the driveway when Nicole and I were all over each other.”

He put the knight down. He was frowning and his face had gone two shades of dark.

“We got carried away and the next thing I knew we were halfways undressed and on the bed. But then I heard something bang downstairs — the bedroom was on the second floor — and it put a block of ice in my stomach. I ran downstairs, pulling my shirt closed. The front door was open, banging in the wind. I found a case of beer sitting on the porch, but no Ed. I was fit to be tied. So was Nicole. We both had that dizzy feeling, like we just missed getting run down in the street or something.”

Frank looked at me. Looked through me. “We waited around for Ed for an hour before we finally went out looking for him. We met the police on the other side of town and I knew right off something was wrong. Turns out that Ed had been roaring down the highway when he lost control. He was in the hospital for a month. Mangled himself something bad and for a while they thought he’d lose his legs. That’s why he has those braces. He spent a few more months with Nicole — she barely left his bedside while he was in the hospital — and then they broke up. We stayed friends but something was always different.”

At last Frank looked back at the chessboard. He made his move, giving a determined nod. “Check.”

“Did he know?”

“He told me he got back and came inside when he realized he’d forgotten his wallet at the store. Set the beer on the porch and headed back out. Never made mention of anything.”

“Do you believe him?”

“Makes no difference,” Frank said. “It doesn’t matter what Ed saw, what matters is what he admits to seeing. Do you understand?”

“Not really.”

“He saw,” Frank told me. “Saw and took off out of there. I don’t know why he didn’t beat me senseless. Instead, he ended up crashing his car. Crippled himself for life.”

“Do you think it was your fault?”

Frank gave me a wry smile. “Yeah,” he said. “Leastways a little. I flipped a crooked nickel and jumped all over his girl.” He nodded at the board. “I’ve got you on the ropes.”

I examined the board, taking my time, letting my thoughts simmer. Finally I made my move, slipping out of Frank’s clutches.

“Do you still have the nickel?” I asked.

“Nah,” Frank said. “Lost it years ago.” He countered and leaned back from the board.

“Still,” I said. “Edwin comes in here every week and steals your beer. You know that. I don’t get it.”

“Sure you do,” Frank said. “You just ain’t seeing it yet.”

“Then just tell me.”

“Maybe Edwin does it because he likes to think he’s slipping one over on me,” Frank said. “But I doubt that. He does it because he likes Newcastle Brown, and he does it because I let him do it.”

“But why do you let him?” I asked.

“Forty years ago I did a real stupid thing,” Frank said. “I cheated my friend and sent him out to get beer. Then I cheated with his girl and sent him off to a car accident that almost killed him. So I’ve been buying his beer for him ever since. I owe him that much.”

Frank smiled. I didn’t know if he was serious or not.

I picked up my chess piece. “That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“Do you think he’ll ever admit to what he saw? That he’ll forgive you?”

Frank took a deep breath. “I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe. Maybe when I’ve bought him enough beer.”

I looked at him for a few moments more, then set my piece on the board. “Checkmate,” I told Frank.

He blinked down at the board, then scratched the side of his neck. “Well I’ll be goddamned.”

“Another?” I asked.

“ ’Course.”

He cleared the board and put the pieces back in place. Outside, the wind blew against the windows and the snow came down. I’d just taken Frank in chess, but when it came to the weather, Frank — and his Old Farmer’s Almanac — had me beat.

At least it looked that way. For now.

Copyright © 2010 by Shane Nelson

Signed “Mutual Trust”

by Richard Macker

Passport to Crime
* * * *

In the spring of 2010, a new short story collection by Reider Thomassen, a.k.a. Richard Macker, entitled Djevelpakten, was published by the Norwegian publisher Kolofon. It included some new stories, and some published in magazines as far back as the 1970s. This month’s Passport to Crime selection from Richard Macker won first prize in the Scandinavian crime short story competition sponsored by Aftenposten, one of the largest newspapers in Norway, in 1975. This is the first time the story has been translated and published in English.

Translated from the Norwegian by Runar Fergus

* * * *

She stood on the busy street corner close to the Tellus cinema. The buttonhole of her pale blue suit held a yellow Ladies’-delight, as they had agreed upon. She was blond and far too plump, her nose was disproportionately large, and her round face was characterized by naive expectation. She is punctual, he thought. And she has expensive jewelry, elegant clothes. He watched for a while, in seclusion, with a satisfied grin. Then he pulled himself together, cleared his throat, and stepped forward.

“Johanne, here I am.”

She jumped, then smiled to-wards him. Her teeth were too large as well.

“Kristian?”

“Yes”

They shook hands. Then he pulled her towards him and kissed her on the cheek. “You look wonderful, Johanne. Just as I had expected.”

He heard how she drew her breath, relieved and contented, noted how her heavy frame still shook with excitement.

“You...” she spoke softly, eyes shining with emotion, “you’re so tall, so handsome. I can’t really believe that... that...”

My God, he thought. She resembles a deranged, engorged cow. Obviously, he didn’t mind being told that he looked great. But somehow the praise had lost its value, he had heard it so often before, at least from naive, lovesick women.