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– The woman lying there, was it your neighbour?

He could hear she was crying. Couldn’t think of anything to say to comfort her.

– What did you tell them?

She didn’t reply at once.

– You didn’t tell them I’d been there?

– No, Axel, please… but they rang just now and asked if I’d seen a man who went out the gate early this morning. The description fitted you.

– The delivery man. He saw me.

– You’ve got to go and talk to them, Axel. Straight away.

He called Bie.

– Axel, she cried. – Are you trying to kill me? Have you any idea how many times I’ve called you? Rita says you’re not well but she has no idea where you are. I was just about to start ringing round the hospitals.

– The hospitals? Pull yourself together, Bie.

– You’re the one who needs to pull himself together, she screamed. – Don’t you know how worried I’ve been?

He tried to breathe calmly.

– Listen to me, Bie. Don’t interrupt. Something’s happened. I can’t tell you everything yet. I’ll talk to you when I get home. I’m not sick, do you hear me, I am not sick. There’s something I have to sort out first.

– But where are you?

– With friends. They’re helping me.

– Can’t you come now? she pleaded, her voice suddenly small and frail.

– Brede, he said suddenly. – I must find Brede.

– Brede? Does this have something to do with him? She sounded almost relieved.

– I have to find him. Then I’ll come home.

After ending the call, he sat thinking for a while. This idea about Brede was something that had just occurred to him. He couldn’t tell her the truth. Not yet. He slumped down into the sofa again.

As he had closed Miriam’s door behind him and tottered down that crooked staircase, it had struck him. This is about me. First the physiotherapist up there in the woods. Then Cecilie Davidsen, his patient, whom he’d visited at home. And now the remains of that body lying outside the door. Not until a few minutes later, as he was staggering through Sofienberg Park, did the memory surface, of Brede raging at him: One day I’ll destroy you, just the same way you destroyed me. Now, after a few hours’ sleep, this was the thought he clung to: This is about me. And Brede. I betrayed him. No one else could hate me this much.

Rita returned at about 4.30.

– Are you still here, Axel? she exclaimed, sounding pleased and shocked in equal measure.

– It’s up to you whether you believe your own eyes or not, he answered.

She took off her coat, pushed her feet into a pair of red slippers with plush trimming and took three plastic bags of shopping into the kitchen. She came back in and sat in the easy chair at the end of the table.

– No problem cancelling the appointments?

– In a manner of speaking. They realise that even you can be ill. But now tell me what’s going on.

He leaned back in the sofa, let his eyes trace the line of the joints between the ceiling tiles.

– How long have we been working together, Rita?

She thought about it.

– Soon be twelve years.

– Do you think you know me?

– Yes, I would say so.

– Do you trust me?

– Give over, Axel. There aren’t that many people I’d let sit by my death bed. But you’re one of them.

He gave a quick smile up at the ceiling.

– I hope you feel the same way once you’ve heard what I’m about to tell you.

Rita had heated up some leftover fish soup.

– You surely can’t believe that, Axel, she exclaimed as she placed the steaming pan on the table. – No one would go so far as to kill three defenceless women just to get at you.

– So you think it’s coincidental that all the victims have a connection to me?

She ladled out a portion of soup for him.

– It’s not up to me to think anything about anything. That’s a job for the police.

– You’re right. I’ll talk to them. But not until tomorrow.

– Are you out of your mind?

He didn’t answer immediately. Slurped down some soup; he hadn’t eaten anything since yesterday. When he was finished he said:

– I’ll talk to them first thing tomorrow. But there’s something I have to do first. This evening.

Rita gave a long, demonstrative shake of the head.

– Don’t think I haven’t noticed how she’s been throwing herself at you from the very first day. That student.

– This is not about her.

Rita didn’t buy it.

– I get so angry about things like that.

Axel pushed his plate away.

– Three people have been killed, Rita. In some way or other I’m involved. Let’s keep Miriam out of this. Do you have a pair of socks I could borrow? And a torch?

44

VIKEN CLICKED HIS way briskly through the net editions of the newspapers. The police hadn’t announced that they suspected the same person was responsible for the murders, but the media had no doubt about it. VG quickly dubbed him ‘the Beast’, having suddenly stopped telling its readers that a killer bear was loose in the city. A memo from Finckenhagen dated that same morning had gone out to everyone with instructions in bold type that from now on, all communications with the media were to go via her to the Chief Superintendent. That was fine by Viken, because it would keep her busy for a while and out of the way of the investigation. On the other hand, she had no real overview of what was going on. Viken had seen enough leaders lose their heads when things began to get hectic. As for himself, the more adrenalin that was pumping round the corridors, the calmer he seemed to be. Perhaps the most important quality of all for a leader in our business, he thought as he opened Jebsen’s notes to take a closer look at the interview with the newspaper delivery man.

The phone rang. He answered with a grunt and recognised the voice of the girl down in reception whom he thought of as ‘the Bimbo’. No, he didn’t see people who just turned up on the doorstep, not even if they had something important to tell him. No, not even if they refused to talk to anyone else but him. She should get in touch with central office in the usual way. He didn’t have time to keep repeating this every bloody day.

He was harsher than he meant to be, seeing in his mind’s eye the Bimbo sitting behind the counter in her bulging blue uniform shirt. Then he heard another female voice in the background. Picked up a name being mentioned.

– What was that somebody just said to you? he asked the Bimbo.

– Oh, are you still there? I thought you’d hung up.

– I asked you what the woman said.

– She said… What did you just say?… Something you should know before it’s too late; it’s about someone named Glenne, her doctor.

Viken greeted the visitor as she emerged from the lift. She was above medium height, with reddish hair and a lot of feminine curves. She was dressed in an expensive-looking black outfit with faint grey stripes. The skirt reached to her knees and she wore high-heeled leather boots. She extended a gloved hand towards him as though expecting him to kiss it. Instead he gave it a quick squeeze and introduced himself.

– Solveig Lundwall, the woman responded in a voice he would unhesitatingly have described as mellifluous.

He took her to his office.

– You wanted to speak to me personally, he began.

She removed her gloves and smoothed them out on her knees.

– I’ve seen in the newspapers that you have been speaking out about these dreadful… events. And I have also seen you on the television news. You are a person who instantly inspires confidence.

– Well, said Viken as he leaned back in his office chair. – Our duty is to make the public feel safe. He had always had a weakness for red-haired women. – You wanted to tell me something about a doctor…