Finally, she found a pair of ski boots inside the settle bed and struggled with the laces. Her hands had begun to thaw, but they worked slowly. She pushed her filthy clothes into the day sack, which he’d chucked into a corner. She put the sack on her back, held the torch in one hand, the paint tin in the other. No need to struggle with the little kitchen window, after everything that had happened. The front door was locked from the outside. She went into the bedroom again, tore down the blackout curtain, and opened the window wide. She took a deep breath of mountain air and stepped up on to the sill. Then she jumped out.
26
The man drove a dark blue Saab. His face had an evil expression just then, fury and frustration gleamed in his eyes. The money had gone. Someone had got there before him, but he couldn’t understand who. The car bounced and shook on the gravel road and he cursed again. He had the lake on his left, it was dead calm, most of the cabins were dark now. He felt cheated. Something had happened that he couldn’t fathom, and he searched his memory for anything that might explain this catastrophe, the barely credible fact that someone had broken into the cabin and stolen the money. His money. Obviously, that was what had happened. Nothing else was missing, the binoculars, the camera, the television, and the radio were all there. Even the wine in the cellar was untouched. He banged his fist on the steering wheel and braked a little on the bend. He turned to the left on a sudden whim. He’d caught sight of a narrow, potholed track that ran down to the lake, down to a small shedlike cabin. The cabin was clearly unoccupied and didn’t look as if it had been inhabited for a long time. He drove his car right down to the shore and left the engine running. He had to calm down. He took his cigarettes out of his inner pocket and lit one, as he stared pensively out across the great shining expanse of water. His face was narrow, his eyes close together, his hair and brows dark. He was quite a good-looking man, but his demeanor ruined it, he had a forbidding, injured expression, and when occasionally he did smile, it wasn’t convincing. He wasn’t smiling now. He smoked eagerly, became irritated by the purring of the engine in the silence and turned it off. He opened the door and took a few steps toward the water the better to observe the impressive landscape. It was very dark when the headlights went out, but gradually the mountains loomed up in the blackness, like huge primeval beasts lying sleeping around a waterhole. He felt an irrepressible urge to growl loudly in the gloom, perhaps they’d wake up and growl back. Just at that moment he caught sight of the car. An old Ascona. It was parked at the back of the cabin, a somewhat run-down car, all on its own. That was strange. Could there be people in the cabin after all? He crept over to it, suddenly unsure if he were alone, and tried to see in through the side window of the car. The door was unlocked, that was even stranger. The car was empty, there was nothing on the seats or dashboard. He straightened up again and looked around. An odd thought struck him, it made him return to his own car and get in. He sat there pondering as he smoked his cigarette. When he’d smoked it to the filter, he crushed it out in the ashtray and lit a new one.
Suddenly Eva realized how tired she was. She could hardly lift her legs and kept tripping over heather and tussocks. The tin weighed a ton in her weary hand, but there were no pockets in the down snowsuit, and she didn’t want to put the money in with her dirty clothes in the day sack. It might get tainted with the smell, you could never tell. Now she was out on the road the walking was easier. She went as fast as she could, but her legs didn’t seem to be able to keep up with her. She felt her heels come down, but not the push from the flat of her foot, that part was numb. The plateau lay before her, completely deserted; she looked for the cabin that had had the light in it, but it was dark now. The thought of the long car journey ahead almost demoralized her, but if she’d got this far, she’d manage to get home again as well, and maybe she’d find an open service station along the way. Somewhere they sold sausages and hamburgers, Coke and chocolate, or perhaps those Danish pastries in packets of two. And hot coffee. She was terribly hungry. Now that she’d begun to think about food she couldn’t stop. Even if she did find somewhere, it was hard to know what people might think if she was to enter the place stinking to high heaven. Presumably the smell was stronger than she realized herself, she’d simply become accustomed to it. And now she could make out the little road down to the lake, she moved the tin over to her left hand and held the torch in her right. Everything seemed empty and deserted, but she wouldn’t switch it on until she was down by the car and ready to go. The less visible she was the better. Never before had she longed for her own car and a cigarette so much. She’d refrained from smoking, didn’t want to leave butts around. She sniffed a little out of pure emotion at all the things that had happened and increased her speed.
She had only a few meters to go when something brought her up short. A tremendous roar split the silence and suddenly she found herself bathed in a flood of halogen light. She stood paralyzed with her tin and torch and for a moment she couldn’t move her feet. Then she recognized the light and sound as a car starting up right in front of her, and she ran out of the beam, out into the heather and tussocks of grass. She ran for her life, clutching the paint tin tightly. She could still hear the engine, and as long as she heard it she would continue running, if it stopped she’d have to get down. But she didn’t get that far. All at once she tripped and fell forward, full length onto her stomach, she twisted one foot and felt twigs and straws scratching at her face. She lay quite still. The engine died too, and a car door opened. She understood now. He’d found her car, he’d sat there waiting for her. It’s all over, she thought. Perhaps he had a gun. Perhaps a bullet in the back of the head would be the last episode in her life. Money didn’t mean that much, she marveled suddenly at all the exertions she’d undergone just for money. It was really quite amazing. The only things that really mattered were Emma, and her father. That you had a bit of bread, and a bit of light and warmth. She thought all this as she heard his movements through the heather, but she couldn’t tell if he was getting closer, or going in the wrong direction.
She rested her head on one arm and just wanted to sleep, the money wasn’t to be hers after all, that was why it had all gone wrong, and she didn’t give a damn about money. But then she pulled herself together again, she thought of Emma, how she had to get away from this man who was tearing through the heather. She began to crawl on her stomach, sliding cautiously away in the smooth down suit. She could still hear his footsteps and, as long as he was moving, he couldn’t hear her. She crawled a little way then stopped, crawled and stopped, and kept on like this. He was still some distance away, the plateau was large and he had no torch with him. Talk about being ill-prepared, she thought, as she struggled to drag the tin along without making too much noise. Then she heard his car start up again, and saw the headlights sweeping across the landscape. She ducked and flattened herself as much as she could. It was lucky that her hair was dark and the suit was navy blue, but the tin was almost white. She had to cover it with her body or it would be visible as a bright spot. It was ridiculous of her to have lugged this big tin along, he’d certainly have seen it. Soon he’d come crashing through the heather in his car and catch her in his headlights. Perhaps he’d just run her down, run over her with all four wheels, and nobody would be able to work out what had happened. Why she was lying there; killed by a car high up in the mountains, in an undersized down snowsuit. Smelling of sewage. No one would ever know. And maybe, she thought, maybe Maja’s killer would go free.