“I don’t mind at all.”
“You haven’t found her?”
“No.”
“Have you… called in the police?”
“So to speak. I was there and talked to them. But they’re not doing much right now. They say that it’s not unusual that wives disappear. Many do it to punish their husbands. But I think they were just trying to calm me down.”
“I’ve been thinking a great deal. She actually talked… about your marriage.”
“She did? What did she say?”
“I got the feeling that she was a little, how should I put it, disappointed.”
“In me?”
“Yes.”
“She said that?”
“She was crying and she appeared to be depressed. She said something along the lines of not having much in common these days. What do I have left, she said, neither a job nor love, something along those lines.”
She heard him light a cigarette.
“She said that?”
“Something like that, yes.”
He was crying now, mumbling something as if he had marbles in his mouth. It seemed that he might have hung up, but she heard him clear his throat and cough. Then he was back on the line.
“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have called like this in the middle of the night.”
“It’s really OK,” he said. “It’s not troubling me at all, the opposite in fact.”
“I can’t sleep. I’m worried, too.”
“I was out in Hässelby earlier. I rang the doorbell, but no one was home.”
“No.”
“What am I supposed to do? What in the hell am I supposed to do?” He was beginning to scream the last words. She heard him as if he were forcing himself back to normal.
“Excuse me… but I have been so worried that I have no idea what to do.”
“I’m not surprised. Do you have any sleeping pills or anything like that? I mean, so that you can sleep tonight?”
“I usually don’t use them.”
“Maybe she did?”
“I honestly don’t know.”
“No. Well then, I don’t want to trouble you any longer. I’ll call if I think of anything else. Good night.”
“Good night.”
Every time she went to lie down, it came back to her. During the day, she was able to keep it at a distance. And right afterwards, she had fallen asleep. She was no longer totally drunk, but when she came out of the shower, she sat on the edge of the bed and drank a few more glasses of wine. She felt her foot aching again. Then she dropped off to sleep.
They had embraced each other. For a long time, they had stood and hugged, Berit’s hot snotty face, her drunken crying, I’ve blamed myself. I’ve been so afraid; children are like that. I kept telling myself, children have no sense of empathy, but it hasn’t helped, Oh, Justine, Justine, you have to forgive me.
She was somewhat shorter than Justine, and thinner. But she was strong. When Justine pushed her to the floor, she followed without resistance. Justine climbed on her chest, heaved herself forward, and began to press against her throat, and it wasn’t until that point that Berit began to resist. Justine grabbed a book from the bookshelf, a Dostoyevsky, and she slammed the corner of the book right on the bridge of Berit’s nose. She heard the cracking sound, felt the body underneath her go still. The whites of her eyes shone; she had fainted for a moment, perhaps more from the shock than the pain. Justine ran quickly up the stairs into her bedroom, got her long scarf, wrapped it a few times around the throat of the unconscious woman, and pulled.
She held on tightly until she had no more doubt. She heard the telephone ring. She lifted the receiver; it was a man, Nathan? No, Hans Peter. Nathan doesn’t exist anymore; his body was broken to bits in a waterfall on the other side of the ocean. That was a long time ago and all was forgotten.
She silently put the receiver back in place.
She knew exactly what to do. Even though she didn’t think about it in advance, it all came to her; a voice was leading her: get the cloth totes from the cleaning closet, the two white cloth totes with Konsum written on them. Then the scarf. Don’t look at the body’s face. Loosened the scarf from her neck-there came an unpleasant puff of air-tied it to one of the handles of the tote. Knotted it like a belt hard around Berit’s waist.
The bird circled above her. Go and sleep, she told him; you can hurt youself here in the darkness. But he didn’t obey her; he sat on her shoulder the whole time she dragged the body down all the stairs. He made her forget what she was doing for a moment.
He took off toward the upstairs once she started down to the basement.
“I’ll return soon!” she called. “You know that I’ll come back; then you’ll get something good, a raw egg, a nice raw hen’s egg, the kind you like, maybe even with an embryo in it.”
She had left Berit in the hallway. There were stones in the basement, she remembered where they were. Her father had brought them home. He had bought them from a business acquaintance who had promised to help him build an outside grill. Nothing came of that outside grill. Flora was against it. She suddenly heard the nagging voice: you never finish anything you start. Are these supposed to be here in the garden until the day we die? It’s slovenly, Sven. I will not have it.
One day, her father had gotten angry, and he carried every single stone into the basement. He did it in ten minutes; he was pale and enraged. Afterwards he took the boat and went out on the lake.
Justine carried up one of the stones. With a great deal of effort, she put Berit’s coat on her body, and the ugly brown plaid cap. She almost forgot the gloves which were on the hat shelf. When she discovered them, she tried to put them on Berit’s fingers, but stopped, sniffling, and pressed them into the body’s jacket pocket.
Then she got dressed herself.
She dragged the kick sled to the stairs, and now came the hard part, struggling to get the lifeless body down and place it on the kick sled. She was conscious of the pain in her foot the whole time, but it was as if the pain didn’t reach her. She steadied herself on it and it bit and ached, but it was a damped and suppressed pain. She would deal with that later.
She heaved her burden onto the kick sled. The runners slid slightly; the dead person’s arms fell out against the snow. Justine tried to place them back in her lap, but they fell back, having no stability. So she had to go inside and look for some string. First she didn’t find anything; she pulled out every drawer in the kitchen, dumped its contents onto the floor.
And now came the first moment of panic.
She went to the mirror. She saw her own face in there, and spoke her name out loud: “Justine. You deserve this, don’t forget! Think about it the whole time!”
Her hands had begun to shake, she lifted them and gave herself two hard slaps on her cheeks: Calm, calm, don’t become hysterical; you know what he thinks about that.
Then it was over.
Right after that she found the ball of string. It was in the niche by the window, she remembered using it the other day for… no, she didn’t remember why. She lifted the scissors from the floor and went back outside.
Berit was sitting hunched over, ready to fall off. Justine tied her to the kick sled, her waist, her hands, her legs. The head hung, the strangled neck. Don’t look at the exploded eyes, don’t look. She drew the cap down as far as possible and went to get the stones.
Each Konsum tote could hold five stones.
The night was dark and misty. She was aware of an airplane high above her, heard its motor. With a great deal of effort, she managed to transport the kick sled to the lake. The runners cut through the snow the entire time. It was easier once she got out on the ice. She pushed the sled as far as she dared, frightened by the rumbling and sharp sounds coming from out there. She kept walking until her feet started to get wet. She saw a layer of water over the ice.
Then she stopped, and got ready to run. She ran, limping, at the kick sled, gave it a push, made it slide quite a bit forward. But it was not far enough. The ice still held. She would have to try going a little bit further. She lay on her stomach, pulling herself forward. The water seeped into her coat, but she wasn’t freezing; it rather felt like burning. She placed her hands on Berit’s backside and pushed again. The kick sled slid forward about ten meters. There was a breaking and cracking sound, then the kick sled tipped forward. She saw how it slowly slid into the water, saw the swinging runners, how everything sank and disappeared.