‘No idea... Would you like me to walk you down?’
‘No,’ Jan said quickly. ‘I can find my own way.’
Nina, Sigrid and three other classroom assistants were sitting in the staffroom when he got back to Lynx. Two uniformed officers were also there, along with a man in civilian clothes; Jan realized immediately that he too was a police officer.
Jan unbuttoned his jacket and sat down next to Nina. ‘The search party is taking a break,’ he said.
Nina nodded; she already knew that. ‘Something’s happened... They want to talk to the staff, one at a time.’
‘Why?’
Nina lowered her voice: ‘Apparently the parents got a package in the post today, with William’s little hat inside... So the police think someone has taken him.’
36
There is one thing Jan loves at the pre-school, something he sees every day: the children’s innocent faces. Their honest eyes. Children don’t hide anything — they don’t know how. They haven’t yet learned to lie convincingly, the way adults do.
But when he arrives for a night shift, Lilian is also struggling to hide how she feels this evening. Her red hair is uncombed, her blouse is creased and her eyes are dark and tired. She feels bad.
‘Everything OK, Lilian?’ Jan asks.
‘Brilliant.’
‘Anything wrong?’
She shakes her head. ‘No. I just want to go home.’
It is more likely that she is intending to go out, possibly to Bill’s Bar. Jan thinks that she is looking more and more worn out with every passing day. Perhaps it’s the autumn. Perhaps it’s the drink. She drinks too much, he knows that. But it’s not the sort of thing people talk about.
Thanks, but I’ve got problems of my own, he thinks.
When Lilian has left he goes to join the children in the playroom. Mira and Leo, the only children who are staying overnight, are sitting there among a sea of building bricks.
Jan smiles and sits down beside them. ‘What a fantastic building!’
‘We know!’ Mira shouts.
As usual Leo looks less pleased, but at least he seems calm today.
Jan picks up a couple of bricks. ‘I’m going to build a hospital.’
Three hours and many games later, it is night once more. Mira and Leo are in bed; they have had supper and a story, and all is peaceful. The children are asleep and Jan is sitting in the staffroom filling out the food order.
He carries on working; time passes. Hidden in his bag is the latest batch of thirty-seven letters which he will soon deliver to the hospital.
One of them is to Rami from him. Eventually, when he got going, he sat there and wrote her a five-page letter. He wrote about their time together in the Unit, the things they talked about. And he wrote about what had happened to him afterwards, how he had become a pre-school teacher and finally ended up here at the Dell.
He promised himself that he wouldn’t deliver any more letters, but that promise has evaporated.
At the end of the letter he wrote that he had never been able to forget her. I will never forget you. It wasn’t a declaration of love; it was simply the truth.
He looks up and catches sight of himself. He is sitting opposite the staffroom’s only window, and he can see his reflection floating in the darkness. But suddenly he notices something behind it, slender shadows moving in the night.
Animals — or people?
He leans closer to the glass. If there are people out there they are close to the fence, in the darkest area between two lights.
Jan considers going outside, but decides against it. Instead he carries on with the food order.
Suddenly the doorbell rings, a harsh, long-drawn-out sound. Jan glances towards the door, but remains in the staffroom.
The bell stops ringing, and everything goes quiet. But three minutes later there is a loud bang right in front of him, on the window. He jumps.
A pale face is staring in through the glass. A tall, bony man with a shaven head is standing motionless out there. He is wearing a thick black padded jacket, and underneath it he is dressed in white hospital scrubs. Jan doesn’t recognize him.
‘Can you open up?’ the stranger shouts.
Jan hesitates, and the man goes on: ‘Are you on your own?’
Jan shakes his head.
‘Who else is in there?’ the man demands.
‘Who are you?’ Jan shouts back.
‘Security — night shift. Can you open up?’
Jan doesn’t move. He wonders if the man knows Lars Rettig, but instead asks, ‘Have you got some ID?’
The guard takes out a plastic card and holds it up for a few seconds, just long enough for Jan to see that the face on the card resembles the guard’s, then he puts it away. His voice is harsh and impatient now: ‘Open up!’
Jan will have to trust him; he opens the window, letting in the cold, and asks, ‘What’s happened?’
‘We’re missing a four-four.’
Jan has no idea what this means, and shakes his head. ‘I haven’t seen anything.’
‘Can you give us a call if you do?’ The guard doesn’t wait for a reply; he backs away from the window and disappears into the darkness.
Jan closes the window and the room is silent.
Almost silent; the clock is still ticking towards midnight, when he is due to leave the package up in the visitors’ room. He ought to postpone it, but that is impossible.
He checks on the two children and goes back to the staffroom. He is waiting for something to happen.
Has someone really escaped?
What should he do?
Stay here. This is where he’s supposed to be, after all — with the sleeping children. But he has to make one last visit to St Psycho’s. He will have to be careful now that people are moving around the hospital complex, but he just has to do it. The things he has written in the letter to Rami are too important; she must have the opportunity to read them.
He waits another twenty minutes. The only thing that happens is that he feels more and more tired, both physically and mentally. He is tired of sitting up in the middle of the night, next to a high wall.
It shouldn’t be like this... so dark and lonely. But that’s the way it is, and at ten minutes to midnight he goes to check on the children one last time. Then he fetches the key card.
One last delivery. He hangs one Angel in the children’s room, and heads for the door. Everyone has been very conscientious about keeping it closed since the telling-off from Marie-Louise, but now Jan must open it.
All is dark and quiet, and Jan quickly makes his way along the underground corridor. He has become very efficient in his deliveries; this time it takes only four minutes to travel up to the visitors’ room and back down again. His heart is pounding all the time, but no one disturbs him, and the Angel attached to his belt remains silent. At five past midnight he is safely inside the Dell, as if nothing has happened.
Time to sleep. He makes up the sofa bed, then settles down and thinks about his letter to Rami for a little while before closing his eyes.
A rattling noise wakes Jan.
He opens his eyes, but the room is in darkness. Has he slept? He must have done, because the clock by his bed is showing 00:56.
Something is still rattling faintly outside the window, creaking and clattering. It’s the fence. Someone is climbing up the fence.
Jan sits up, blinking in the darkness. He pulls on his jumper and trousers. Then he opens the blind a fraction and peeps out of the window.
He can’t see a thing.