‘I have to go,’ Langås said. ‘Whatever Reidun is caught up in, it has nothing to do with me. I’m happily married, Frølich. And I’ll be quite open with you. In fact, one of the reasons we got divorced when we did was Reidun’s predilections. We married too young. We grew apart, intellectually and… well… in other areas. That meant that Reidun and I have almost nothing in common, not even children. And we were miles apart when we divided all our possessions. In fact, one of the things at the time that created bad blood between us was the chalet I was talking about. It’s been in my family for two generations and was built by my grandfather. But she was downright dishonest and grabbed it when we got divorced. I was very depressed at that point and incapable of standing up for myself. For sentimental reasons, I’ve bought another chalet not so far from the one she cheated me out of. This is where I most often meet her. We occasionally bump into each other when we go skiing at Easter.’ He tapped a finger on Elisabeth Faremo’s picture. ‘I saw this woman when I was out skiing. They were resting alongside the piste on a slope and I chatted to them for maybe three minutes perhaps, maybe five – to be polite. Not long enough to ask her name. I assumed she was having problems because she was young, probably half Reidun’s age. That’s all I know, all I can say. If you would excuse me now?’ He stood up, flipped open the clasp of his fancy watch and closed it again, like a secondary schoolteacher rattling his keys.
‘Thank you,’ Frølich said, realizing why Langås was fidgeting with his watch: he wanted to avoid shaking hands.
18
She was ensconced in a chair by the window. Staring out. Her back appeared narrow and lonely in the white dressing gown. Her brown hair was brushed. In the window Gunnarstranda saw his own reflection – and the profile of her face.
He stood like that without saying anything.
‘I know who you are,’ she said. The voice was quiet and concentrated.
He met her eyes in the transparent mirror. ‘May I buy you a cup of coffee?’ he asked and added: ‘If you’re strong enough to go down to the café.’
Finally, she turned round. ‘Do you think this face is fit for a café?’
He didn’t answer.
‘What do you want?’ She was forced to talk out of the corner of her mouth. The skin around her eyes was covered with red and blue contusions.
‘I wanted to know how you were. It looked pretty bad… in your house,’ he hastened to add. ‘Can you remember any of what happened?’
‘I remember the ambulance. Just a vague recollection.’
‘Have you any idea how much time passed between the ambulance coming and…?’
‘No.’
Gunnarstranda involuntarily put out a hand as she stood up. He wanted to support her, but she rejected his approach and hobbled off towards one of the low coffee tables by the wall. He sat down at the other side.
‘It looks worse than it is,’ she said.
‘Did you see him?’
The question disconcerted her for a second. She lowered her gaze.
He waited.
‘Who?’ she asked finally.
‘I won’t force you to answer. Instead, I’ll say how I interpret your silence and your attitude. Either you saw your attacker and you’re frightened of reprisals if you describe him to me or you saw him but you don’t wish to see him punished.’
She was silent.
A nurse in a white uniform appeared at the door. She came into the room and asked if everything was all right.
Gunnarstranda gestured towards Reidun Vestli. ‘You’ll have to ask her.’
Reidun Vestli regarded the nurse with a distant look. ‘Yes, everything’s fine. Could I have something to drink, though?’
They sat in silence watching the nurse go to the unit in the corner, take out a bottle of mineral water, thoroughly rinse a glass in cold water and then return with light steps. She handed a glass with a straw to Reidun Vestli. They watched the nurse cross the room and leave.
‘How did he get in?’
‘Through the door. How else?’
‘He rang the doorbell?’
She was silent.
‘Or was he waiting for you when you came back from shopping?’
She was still silent.
‘Do you want to report him?’
She shook her head slowly.
‘Why not?’
No reaction.
Gunnarstranda leaned forwards. ‘Who hit you?’ he asked doggedly.
Reidun Vestli didn’t answer.
‘Can you describe the person?’
She put down her glass on the table. She made rings with the bottom of the glass. The silence persisted. A large clock on the wall clicked as the minute hand moved on.
‘I think,’ Gunnarstranda said finally, ‘that the person who did this to you is extremely desperate. If you don’t wish to say who he is, or describe him, I’d like you to tell me what he wanted – apart from causing you injury. It’s imperative that we have this man under lock and key, imperative for us, for you and particularly for Elisabeth Faremo.’
The name threw a switch in Reidun Vestli’s consciousness. She slowly raised her head; her eyes were focused on something far away. ‘I want you to go,’ she said.
Gunnarstranda produced a photograph of Vidar Ballo. ‘Was this the man who gave you the beating?’
Reidun Vestli looked at the picture without saying a word.
Gunnarstranda took out another picture. This time it was Jim Rognstad, a prison photograph, a front and a profile.
Reidun Vestli was quiet.
Gunnarstranda showed her a photograph of Frølich.
No discernible twitch on Reidun Vestli’s face.
The policeman pulled out a newspaper cutting about her ex-husband – Langås the investor.
No reaction this time, either.
‘Anyone else?’ the policeman asked softly.
Reidun Vestli peered up.
Gunnarstranda leaned back in the chair and said: ‘Was it someone you didn’t see a photo of?’
Reidun shouted in a hoarse voice: ‘Nurse, sister, hello! I can’t take any more.’
Gunnarstranda stood up. ‘Just one minor thing before I go,’ he said before putting back the pictures in his inside jacket pocket. ‘You and your husband both had an interest in a chalet in Valdres, but who is actually the owner?’
The door opened. A nurse came in. ‘I’m going now,’ Gunnarstranda said to reassure her.
‘Wait!’ Reidun Vestli looked at him with a troubled expression on her face.
The nurse left, closing the door behind her.
Reidun Vestli was breathing heavily. ‘Why do you want to know?’
Gunnarstranda thought this over. Eventually he said: ‘For several reasons actually, but let’s start with the insurance premium. I’m wondering who gets the payout if anything should happen – something unforeseen.’
‘What are you trying to say?’ she whispered.
‘You’re going to be discharged today, aren’t you?’ Gunnarstranda asked. ‘Shall I drive you home so we can talk about it?’
She nodded slowly.
‘We can call the nurse then,’ Gunnarstranda said.
19
When Gunnarstranda came into the office, he just managed to nod to Yttergjerde and wrestle off his coat before the telephone began to ring. He picked up the receiver and barked into it as usuaclass="underline" ‘Please be brief.’
‘Frølich here.’
‘Good morning. Up early and no weeping?’
‘I talked to Langås yesterday, Reidun Vestli’s ex-husband.’
‘You’re not letting go, then?’
‘He said something about a chalet. Elisabeth had stayed with Reidun Vestli in a chalet in Valdres.’
‘So?’
‘I thought I was supposed to play with an open hand, as you requested. I intend to go there now and find out whether Elisabeth is hiding in the chalet. She might be. I think…’