He’d heard nothing; perhaps he’d fallen asleep. Suddenly something covered the gash in the plastic. A face. He jumped up and crawled out backwards. As he straightened up, he heard footsteps moving across the forest floor. Saw a shadow disappearing between the trees.
– Wait! he shouted, running. Stopped by the rise and listened. Heard footsteps some way ahead, in the direction of the tarn. He sprinted as hard as he could, stumbled in the undergrowth, got to his feet again. The figure appeared in front of him, over by the boat that lay upside down, hobbled past it and on up the bank. Axel was gaining on him, caught up with him at last, grabbed him by the shoulder. The person tried to pull himself free. Axel seized him round the waist and threw him to the ground, planted a knee in his chest, pulled the torch from his pocket and switched it on.
– Brede! he screamed into the face below him.
The man pinched his eyes shut against the bright light. He had long grey hair and a beard, and sunken eyes. He looked to be over sixty. He stank of urine.
– What do you want? he whimpered.
Axel bit his lip and swore. Time to pull yourself together, Axel Glenne. Surely you didn’t really think it was Brede.
– Are you the person who lives in that shelter?
The old man tried to nod.
– No one else lives there?
Now he shook his head. He had managed to work one arm free and held it up in front of himself like a shield.
– Are you going to kill me now? he murmured.
I AM WAITING for you. Sitting in the car, leafing through the newspapers. According to some professor or other, they shouldn’t be writing about me. Because that is what I want. That the need for attention might make me kill again. If the idiot only knew just how wide of the mark he is. I don’t want attention. Don’t give a shit what the papers say. This is about you and me. Nobody else.
Finally you show up. I follow you with my eyes as you head down the pavement on the other side of the road. You don’t know it yet. But you suspect it. That it’s your turn next. Unless chance comes along to save you. The only god that can interfere. I could have planned it in more detail. Tried to control the god of chance. But unpredictability is my nature. I am willing to risk everything. You aren’t like that. You always stop in time. Yet we are twin souls. And in that case the bear should be not just my inner animal but yours too.
By the time you hear this, you’ll be lying there unable to move. Unable to do anything but listen to my voice. Now you understand what you’ve done. You feel regret. It doesn’t help. Only chance can save you now. As I make this recording, there is still a chance you might escape. Many things can go wrong. You will be given a final warning. Maybe you’ll inform on me then and save your own skin. If not, it will be your turn. Three times now I have gone to women and taken them with me. The fourth time things will be different. You will come to me. Your guilty conscience will bring you here. And that is why you are lying in the dark, listening to my voice.
The god of chance is weak now, too weak to interfere. He almost stopped me that day I came for the third woman. When she smelled the cloth and passed out, she vomited and her head banged against the window. A couple with a dog came by but I got her down on to the floor of the car, and it was so dark they couldn’t see anything. She was three nights with me. I untied her hands when I was lying beside her. She wanted me. Even though I said I had to kill her, she wanted me. But I didn’t exploit her. I’m not like that. Lay next to her the whole of that last night. Let her hold me and caress me as much as she wanted. It calmed her down and was good for her. We both fell asleep. In the morning I showed her how it would happen. Then I had to tape her up again. I’ll show you too. I’ll follow every twitch of your face once you realise what’s going to happen to you down there in the cellar. Can hardly wait, just thinking about it. To see your eyes then will be the most blissful moment of my life. Afterwards you will be gone, and I will be somewhere there are no other people. What I have done can never be atoned for. They hate me for it. Despise me. There is no way back. That is what it means to be perfectly alone. It never ends. That is what I want.
PART IV
46
Wednesday 24 October
NNINA JEBSEN PARKED on the pavement. A constable was still standing in the entrance to the block in Helgesens gate. He was a few years younger than her, tall and muscular, with fair hair. Built like an athlete, she thought. She exchanged a few words with him before heading up to the attic flat. The security tape outside the door had been removed. She rang the bell. It took almost a minute for Miriam Gaizauskaite to open up. Her face was pale and drawn. She tried to smile when she saw Nina.
– I wasn’t expecting you just yet, she said.
Nina sat on the sofa and looked around the flat. The walls were painted a peach white; the curtains were red with a motif of tulips. A few plants with drooping heads stood on the windowsill.
Miriam emerged from the kitchen carrying coffee cups and a bowl of fruit. Nina helped herself to an apple. She was hungry, but she could hold out until lunch if she had enough coffee.
– As I mentioned, there are one or two things I’d like to talk to you about. We could have done it on the phone, but we find we often get better results face to face.
– I’ve already given a statement, Miriam said.
– Yes, you’ve already helped us a lot, Nina replied encouragingly as she took a bite from the apple. – Don’t you have lectures today?
Miriam looked up through the skylight.
– Couldn’t face going.
– I understand. But it’s probably not such a good idea to sit here thinking too much.
– Two good friends of mine have already called to tell me off. I’ll get going again tomorrow.
Nina looked at her. Miriam had large dark eyes and a fine, high forehead on which tiny wrinkles appeared and as suddenly disappeared again. Her nose was quite long, but narrow and straight. She could feel that she liked her, and reminded herself not to let it affect her judgement.
– You said that you heard someone down in the yard on Monday morning. You were lying awake and the time was a couple of minutes past five. Did you hear the gate once or twice?
Miriam thought about it.
– Just once.
– Did you hear anyone talking?
– No.
Nina waited a moment before saying:
– You can trust us, Miriam. Don’t be afraid to tell us what you know.
– I’ve got nothing else to say. Nothing new.
She got up, disappeared out into the kitchen and returned with a cafetière full of coffee.
– Good coffee, Nina said after taking a sip. She added: – You said you were alone all evening yesterday.
Miriam gave a slight nod.
– But that doesn’t appear to be the case.
She was startled.
– What do you mean?
– Our technical investigators found a footprint out in the corridor, in the blood on the floor. Where someone stepped in their stockinged feet.
Nina noticed how Miriam was holding on tightly to the arms of her chair.
– They found traces of the same sock in your flat. In the hallway, here in the living room, and over to the alcove.
Without waiting for her reaction, Nina took a sheet of paper from her pocket, unfolded it and laid it on the table in front of Miriam.
– The man delivering the newspapers met someone going out as he was on his way in. He gave us a description, which our artist has used. Look at it carefully, see if you can connect it with someone you might have seen before.