Then she looks over at the wall surrounding the hospital and stops smiling. ‘Were you ever afraid when you were little, Jan?’
He shakes his head. Not when he was little. He was never afraid, not even of the atomic bomb, until he met the Gang of Four. ‘What about you?’ he asks.
Marie-Louise also shakes her head. ‘I lived in a small town when I was little, and nobody bothered to lock their doors,’ she says. ‘There were no burglars or muggers in those days... no dangerous criminals at all. Well, nobody talked about them, anyway. But there was an asylum in the middle of the town, and the mad people were allowed out sometimes... They wore strange clothes, so you could always tell where they came from. They looked nice, and I thought it was fun to say hello to them on the bus; they were always so pleased to have someone to talk to. Everyone else used to sit there, stiff as pokers, staring straight in front of them when some confused old soul got on, but I thought they were nice.’ She looks at Jan and adds, ‘So I used to say hello, and the old men would cheerfully say hello back.’
‘That’s nice,’ Jan says.
Marie-Louise gazes over at the high wall again, and almost seems to be talking to herself. ‘But such terrible things happen these days... There are such dangerous people in the world.’
‘Or we’re just more frightened,’ Jan says.
But Marie-Louise gives no indication that she has heard him.
That evening Jan makes another attempt to contact Rami. He pretends to set off home in the darkness at the end of the working day, but kills time walking around the nearby residential area instead, waiting for things to quieten down around the hospital. Then he goes up to the big rock above the stream. He puts down his rucksack, takes out the Angel and switches it on, keeping his eyes fixed on the hospital.
Fourth floor, seventh from the right. There is a light on, but no sign of anyone behind the bars.
Jan tries to make contact anyway. ‘Squirrel?’ he says quietly.
Nothing happens. The light stays on.
Jan speaks into the microphone several times, but there is no response. If Rami isn’t there, or if she’s asleep, then why is the light on? Is it always on?
In the end he switches off the Angel and makes his way back down the slope. He feels like a failure, rejected by everyone this Thursday evening. Perhaps not quite everyone — the children still like him, but if he plays with them too much, it looks odd.
Jan doesn’t want to look odd. That would attract Marie-Louise’s attention, just as Lilian has done.
He thinks about the quiet conversations between Hanna and Lilian over the past week, whispering voices that fell silent as soon as he walked into the room.
He heads back towards the town, but he isn’t going home. He is going round to Lilian’s tonight, to talk about Ivan Rössel.
48
Jan rings the doorbell and waits. He listens. He can hear the sound of voices inside Lilian’s house, but it could well be the murmur of a television.
It is Lilian’s older brother who opens the door. Jan doesn’t know his name. The man greets him with a nod and calls over his shoulder, ‘Minty?’
The television is turned down. Lilian’s voice says something incomprehensible, and her brother continues: ‘Your little friend is here.’
He turns and leaves the house without looking at Jan again.
‘You’re called Minty?’
‘Sometimes.’
‘Why?’
Lilian shrugs her shoulders. ‘I eat a lot of mints. To keep my breath fresh.’
Her voice is lifeless, but at least she isn’t drunk. She has led Jan into the kitchen, and opens the fridge. He can see green bottles inside, but Lilian takes out a carton of milk.
‘Hot chocolate?’
‘Yes, please.’
She puts a pan of milk on the stove, and Jan sits down at the kitchen table. Party-Lilian from Bill’s Bar is nowhere to be seen; she looks more exhausted than ever as she sits down and hands him a full mug.
‘So Hanna’s told you about Ivan Rössel,’ she says.
‘Yes.’
‘And she’s told you he’s in St Psycho’s?’
Jan nods. ‘I’ve read a bit about him too.’
‘Of course you have — he’s a celebrity.’ Lilian sighs. ‘But the victims never become famous... No one wants to talk to a person who just cries all the time, I expect that’s why. So we withdraw and grieve, while the murderers turn into stars.’
Jan says nothing, but she goes on: ‘Have you spoken to Marie-Louise about this?’
‘No... only to Hanna.’
‘Good.’ Lilian seems to relax, and picks up her mug. ‘That’s good... Marie-Louise would inform the hospital immediately if she knew what was going on.’
Silence descends on the little kitchen.
‘And what is going on?’ Jan asks.
Lilian appears to be considering what to tell him. ‘A meeting,’ she says eventually. ‘We’re going to have a meeting with Rössel. Hanna has arranged it, along with one of the security guards at the hospital.’
‘A meeting about what?’
‘We want answers. We want to persuade Rössel to start talking. About John Daniel.’
‘Your brother,’ Jan says quietly.
Lilian frowns sadly. ‘He went missing.’
‘I know... I read about John Daniel too.’
She sighs again. ‘We want to know why it happened,’ she says, staring down at the kitchen table. ‘But there are no answers. Everything is just... darkness. And you think you must be dreaming — I felt like that for months six years ago, when John Daniel first disappeared. And then when I realized that I was awake and he was still gone, I thought I’d get over it, but you don’t get over it, it just gnaws away at you the whole time... And it’s worse for my dad. He believes that John Daniel is still alive. He sits there waiting by the phone, every single day.’
Jan listens and lets her talk; he feels like a psychologist. Like Tony. ‘But Rössel hasn’t admitted anything, has he?’ he prompts.
Lilian shakes her head. ‘Rössel is a psychopath. He lacks the capacity to feel guilt, so he admits nothing. He tells half-truths, then retracts them. The only thing he wants is attention... It’s like a game to him.’
‘Do you hate him?’
She gives him a sharp look, as if the answer is obvious. ‘John Daniel died; his life lasted just nineteen years. But Rössel has never been punished. He is looked after, he gets free food and accommodation. Life is good over there in St Patricia’s.’
Jan thinks of those long, empty corridors. ‘Are you sure about that?’
Lilian nods firmly. ‘Oh yes, especially for a celebrity like Rössel. He’s cared for, and he has peace and quiet. Medication, therapy, every kind of support you can think of. The doctors want to bathe in the reflected glow of his fame. But John Daniel, he...’ She looks down at the table. ‘He was murdered and his body lies hidden somewhere. And my life has been shortened as a result... That’s what grief and hatred do to you. You dry up.’
Jan almost asks, Is that why you drink so much? But he doesn’t. He has an idea of what Lilian has been through and how she feels about Rössel — he has felt something similar when it comes to Torgny Fridman and the Gang of Four.
‘So you’re working at the pre-school because of John Daniel?’
‘Yes. I thought I’d be able to make contact with Rössel myself, but I couldn’t do it. In the end I asked Hanna if she would help me, and she was more successful.’
‘But aren’t you worried about her?’
‘Because she goes up to the hospital? She doesn’t actually meet Rössel, they just exchange letters. There’s no risk involved.’