'Yes,Goggen and Lasse. They're an item.'
'Sowhat happened?'
'Wewent to Smuget. That is, Ole and I did.'
'Gerhardsen?'
'Ihave no idea.'
'Didn'the go into Smuget with you?'
'I'msure he did. But I was with Ole and it was packed in there. I didn't see anyoneI knew.'
'Butyou're not sure if Gerhardsen went in with you?' 'Why wouldn't he have done?'
'We-e-ell,'Frølich said. 'What happened then?'
'Weleft a bit later. Went back to my place.' She winked. 'Don't tell anyone. Ipromised I would keep my mouth shut.'
'Youand Eidesen went back to your place, and he stayed with you?'
'Yes.'
Frølichstared and could feel his cheeks burning. Merethe Fossum picked her teeth withthe nail of one of her slim fingers. She didn't manage to get hold of what shewas looking for straightaway. So she opened her mouth and buried her finger inthe recesses of her mouth, stretching her lips into a grotesque grimace.
'At whattime?'
Sheshrugged and broke off from her excavations so that she could speak. 'It waslight anyway. Maybe four o'clock.'
'Areyou sure of the time?'
'No.'She sent him a vacant grin and, when she saw the policeman's face, added: 'I'msorry. I don't know.'
'Doyou know what time it was when you got to your flat?'
'Abit later. I'm so sorry, but I didn't look at my watch at all.' 'How long didhe stay at yours?'
MeretheFossum peered at a chunk of food on one of her red nails. She licked it off.'Until eleven, or twelve, in the morning. Don't remember. Is it important?'
Frølichjotted down words, hardly knowing what to write, and made a private mental noteof minus a hundred points.
Helooked up. 'This is pretty important,' he said. 'Ole Eidesen was with you frommidnight until eleven o'clock the next morning. Have I understood youcorrectly?'
Shenodded.
'Andhe didn't leave the flat during that time?'
'Iwould have noticed.' She spoke with a faint, dreamy smile.
'Hesays you did not spend the night together.'
'Oh,God, poor boy.'
'Ibeg your pardon.'
Shelaughed. 'I suppose he's sticking to our agreement. We agreed we would keep ita secret. Well, now she can't find out anything anyway. She's dead, isn't she.The poor thing. It's a terrible business. But you have to think of those leftbehind. Ole has not had an easy time, either, has he? When the person you'rewith ends up like that.'
That'strue.'
'Indeedit is!'
'Haveyou kept in touch since?'
'DearGod,' Merethe sighed.
'Sorry?'
Shewas grinning, but caught herself.'… I mean, do I look like a one-night stand?'
Frølichregarded her in silence.
'Ihave talked to him, once. Forgive me if it is wrong to do that, but this is notso easy…'
'Haveyou at any time, in any form or manner, discussed with Die what you should sayto the police about your movements that night?'
Frølichmade a note before she answered. 'No,' she said. 'Not at all.'
'Well,that's a bit strange.'
'Whyis it strange?'
'Hisgirlfriend has been murdered, the police are investigating, what on earth didyou talk about if this case did not feature in your conversations?'
Shestared at Frølich with big eyes. 'Is that wrong too? To invite a guy tothe cinema?'
Strollingpast the uniformed receptionist a little later Frølich checked hisjacket pocket for his mobile. It wasn't there. He stopped. Could he have leftit in the canteen? Either there or in the car. He turned and looked at thestairs. In the car, he thought. It could be in the car and, if it is, I won'thave to go down there again. He winked at the guard and left.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Afterthe telephone call from Frølich, Gunnarstranda sat in the car lookingout of the window. He was thinking about the funeral ceremony, the faces ofthose who had passed him on their way into the church. He thought aboutGerhardsen and his energetic spouse. The clock on the wall above the door wasreflected in the window. A few hours had passed now. It was time to visitVinterhagen again.
Onlocking his car door half an hour later and gazing across the gravelled carpark he wondered whether his idea would be a waste of time after all. A densestillness hung over the large area. Everyone must have taken the day offbecause of the funeral. He stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets and walkedalong the same path he and Frølich had walked a few days, earlier, butnow he didn't meet a single person. He rounded the corner of the yellowaccommodation hall and saw the dark, lifeless windows of the office building.He pulled up and decided to use the opportunity to have a look around. Hesearched for a cigarette end from his pocket, lit up and strolled around thevegetable patch by the greenhouse. The potatoes had been earthed up at somepoint. It had obviously been done with a small fork or a spade. Someone hadbeen very thorough. Other rows had been earthed up so badly that the yieldwould be poor. The leeks and onions were pale, thin and straggly. They neededmore nitrogen. The carrots were looking good. He walked on to the greenhouse andtried the door. It wasn't locked. He flicked the cigarette into a pile of sandand entered.
Hestood avidly breathing in the warm, heavy, moist air of the greenhouse.Cucumbers and lettuces were being grown. Overhead, on the ridge, there wereventilation grilles which let in a fresh breath of cooler air that brushed hishead. He walked down between two lines of potting tables and saw someone at theback, by the far wall. It was Annabeth s. She had changed out of her darkfuneral clothes into a green overall, a flannel shirt and high green boots. Shewas watering plants, walking along the potting tables with a hose pipe to whicha shower head had been attached. He coughed, but she didn't hear. He coughedagain.
'Oh,'she gasped as she turned round. 'You gave me a start!'
'Ididn't think the funeral was the right place to bother you,' Gunnarstrandasaid.
'Iknow why you've come,' Annabeth said, resigned, and continued her watering. 'MyGod, Bjørn and I have had this showdown so many times I had an inklingit would re-appear. Let me make it quite clear so that we can avoid all thepomposity and the embarrassing pauses. Bjørn, my husband, is a big boy.Yes, he did confess to me that he had used her in a moment of weakness. If Ihadn't already been working at getting the poor girl on to an even keel, Iwould have dumped her in another institution. I'm telling you that straight. Itis no secret.'
'Butwhy didn't you do that?' Gunnarstranda asked, cleaning the dry leaves of someof the plants on the table.
'Youmight well ask. It's always easy to ask when it's all over. Don't you think Iwanted to do that? Don't you think I considered the problem? But she liked itwith us. She trusted us. She could function here, Gunnarstranda. Believe me, itwasn't easy.'
Annabethlifted the hose pipe and dragged it along with her.
'I amquite sure it wasn't easy,' Gunnarstranda broke in again. 'But it can't havebeen right, either. The decision to keep Katrine as a patient when your husbandwas having a relationship with her could never have been right.'
'See!'Annabeth waved the hose pipe about angrily. 'There you go with youraccusations. Why do you do that?' She sent the policeman a fierce look andcontinued in an aggressive tone. 'You say that because she was murdered. Ifthis hadn't happened no one would have been any the wiser. She wasn't sufferingany extra pressure. She was completely rehabilitated. The treatment was asuccess. So it hadn't been wrong to keep her.'
Gunnarstrandawent quiet. She had a point. She glared at him from the other side of thepotting table.
'Katrinehad all the facilities she needed to succeed here. We had her confidence. Shewanted to kick the habit. We could have sent her to other professionals – to aplace where she had to live with other patients and work with new staff, butthere would have been no guarantee that she would have managed any better.Well, what is done is done. No one can undo the dreadful mistake my husbandcommitted in a moment of weakness.'