– He called the station the first time at about eleven, asked to speak to me personally. When I rang back, he told me what shits we were. I made the mistake of calling without blocking my number, and a few hours later he was there again, muttering away about Miriam. Still having a go at us. He didn’t sound completely sober. Or maybe he was on something else. He called another couple of times, but I passed up the chance to hear any more of his crap.
– Perfectly understandable, was Viken’s response. – Nina, I’m putting you in charge of the search for Miriam. Are all our reports on her up to date?
Arve Norbakk cast a glance in her direction.
– Just a couple of things I have to add, he said quickly. – I’ll do it straight away. Give me a couple of minutes and I’ll get a printout from her mobile phone. And Glenne’s.
– Good. Jebsen, you find out when that bunch of flowers was sent, and by whom. I have my suspicions. Where’s Sigge?
– He called in, said Nina. – He’s at home, one of his kids is sick. Unless it was both of them. He’s going to try to get in later.
Viken’s bushy eyebrows reared up and faced each other like two hairy snakes about to copulate.
– What’s the matter with that bloke? he growled. – Hasn’t he got a wife?
The flowers had been sent from Flower Power in Majorstua on Wednesday evening at 6.40. Nina spoke to the florist on the phone. He thought he could remember the man who had made the purchase, a bouquet of nine long-stemmed roses. The description was vague, but it fitted Glenne.
Nina entered the information and thought about it. The delivery man had been there Wednesday evening. When no one answered, he had hung the flowers on the door. They were still there on Friday morning. But according to Arve, Miriam had been home when he called her yesterday evening. So why hadn’t she taken them inside?
Again she looked at what Arve had written about Miriam. There was something she hadn’t quite understood, and she knew it had to do with this report. Something Arve had said. She still couldn’t think what it was… She noticed that he hadn’t added the information about the engagement. She sat there, staring at the screen. Miriam had mentioned that the man she had been engaged to was someone she met in her first year in Norway. In other words, when she was attending the folk high school in Nordfjord. It would be possible to check the list of former pupils, but it was by no means certain that the fiancé had gone to the same school as her. It would be easier to ask someone who actually knew her.
During her interview Miriam had named two other students as her closest friends. Nina had made a note of their names. She looked them up in her notebook. Thought she should let Arve have them. Didn’t want him thinking she was taking over his job. That she thought he wasn’t doing it well enough. On the other hand, he had undertaken to check a mass of mobile phone calls and would have enough to be getting on with. He would thank her for it. Then she could remind her of their agreement. To have a drink together. Or two.
She was about to call directory enquiries when Viken burst in.
– Now we’ve got him, he trumpeted.
Nina had never seen him looking so elated.
– The photos you and Arve found in Miriam’s flat. They were covered in big juicy fingerprints. Want to guess whose?
It wasn’t hard to guess, but she didn’t want to spoil his surprise.
– Glenne, Viken said as calmly as he could. – Dr Axel Glenne.
Nina had the feeling of climbing aboard a merry-go-round that was already in full swing.
– He might be the one who sent them to her, she offered tentatively.
Viken drummed away on the door frame.
– I called Frøen. Nina, even he realises what this means.
Across his face were written the words: What did I tell you? All the more important, then, for her to tell him what she had found out.
– Miriam had a lengthy relationship after she arrived in Norway. She was engaged. I’m just trying to find out who the man was.
Viken gestured to her.
– That’ll have to wait. I need you for something else. We don’t have much bloody time. We’re going after Glenne now, with everything we’ve got.
63
OSWALD HAD BEEN restless all morning. He paced back and forth in the room making deep growling noises, and paid no attention to Signy Bruseter when she spoke to him. He hadn’t eaten, and she hadn’t been able to wash him. According to the night shift he’d been the same all night, wandering around restlessly, not getting a minute’s sleep. And of course, it affected Tora too. She sat there in her chair and never stopped whimpering. Several times Signy had been on the point of calling Mette Martin and warning her, but she decided to hang on until Åse Berit showed up. Åse Berit always managed to calm Oswald down, no matter how upset he was.
At a quarter past eleven, Signy heard the front door open and gave a sigh of relief. It wasn’t Åse Berit Nytorpet who came into the room, however, but a much older woman. A tiny, skinny little thing with permed silver hair and thick glasses.
– I heard things were a bit upside down here today so I came in earlier, she said.
Signy stared at her in surprise.
– Isn’t Åse Berit coming?
– Åse Berit’s off sick.
The old woman held out a withered, scrawny hand.
– I’m Ingeborg, she said. Ingeborg Damhaug. I used to work here before, worked here for years.
Signy smiled bravely. Åse Berit was so big and buxom you could take shelter behind her when Oswald was upset. But what use would this little bag of bones be?
– What’s the matter with Åse Berit?
The old woman sighed.
– It’s all just got too much for her. The police have been up there and turned their farm inside out. Even taken up the floor. Åse Berit’s nerves couldn’t stand it.
Signy looked down at her feet.
– Apparently there’s someone sneaking around the village telling tales on folk, Ingeborg sniffed with contempt. – Now, Oswald, what’s all this, walking up and down and not eating anything?
– Oswald catch bear.
– Right you are, cooed Ingebord. – I’m sure you can, but now you just come and sit down.
She put an arm around the giant resident and led him over to the dining table.
– Ingeborg catch bear, Oswald shouted, and the old woman burst out laughing.
– Yes, that’ll be the day, she chortled, wiping away the tears, and it looked as though Oswald was joining in her laughter.
She put milk on the table and Oswald drank it down in one gulp. She refilled the glass and buttered some bread, and he ate with a hearty appetite.
– Oswald and I are old chums, hummed Ingeborg. – Isn’t that right, Oswald?
– Oswald drive bus, he rumbled, his mouth full of bread and liver pâté.
After his meal, she took him by the hand and led him into his room.
– Now you just have a nice little lie-down, Oswald, you’ve been up and about all night.
– I’ve known Oswald since he was seven or eight years old, Ingeborg explained later as they sat at the table. – Oh, it breaks my heart to think about him, that lad.
Signy sipped at her coffee.
– Åse Berit told me his father used to lock him up in the cellar when he was a little boy. Surely that can’t be true?
Ingeborg shook her head and stared in front of her. Tora had fallen asleep in her chair, her head hanging down at an angle, drooling at the mouth. Ingeborg got up and wiped her face, placed a pillow under the bony chin.
– It’s true all right, she said. – I was working in child care at the time. It was a terrible business.
– But the father must have been a complete madman. Didn’t anyone say anything?
Ingeborg shot Signy a bleak look.
– That’s the thing that bothers me most of all, that we didn’t act sooner. We got several messages saying things were going to pieces up at old Norbakk’s, but it wasn’t until a member of the family rang and said we’d better get ourselves up there as fast as possible…