The Last Fix [En liten gyllen ring no]

'Inthat case he could have waited until his brother came home.'

'Hemay have had other motives for ringing. He may have been trying to articulatesomething – after all, the man did have a philosophical bent.'

'Butif he takes his own life afterwards…'

'Wedon't know that he took his own life,' Gunnarstranda interrupted. 'Have younever wondered who you are and where you come from?'

'It'spretty obvious…'

'Imean, seeing yourself as a mortal and wondering what the meaning of life is,whether there is a purpose.'

Frølichsmirked into his beard, but stopped the moment he felt he was being observed.He shrugged. 'Not that often.'

Theolder policeman regarded Frølich with irritation. 'Sooner or later youwill. Everyone does. Perhaps Kramer was just quick off the mark. Did hisbrother have any idea where Henning might have concealed a letter?'

'No.'

Frølichpeered down into his tankard. The remaining froth formed a spider pattern onhis glass. White bubbles rose in the brown liquid. Frank raised his glass tohis mouth and drank with great gusto.

Gunnarstrandawalked through the wide veranda doors into the kitchen where he rummagedaround. Frank turned and gazed across the forest that ended in fields, which intheir turn led to the mouth of the blue Drammen fjord. In the distance therewas a cluster of yachts bunched together, presumably sailing in a regattaaround the marker buoy.

Gunnarstrandacame out with plates and salad on a white wooden tray. He set the table and putthe meat on the grill, which soon began to smoke and spit.

'Wouldyou have hanged yourself in your brother's flat?' Gunnarstranda asked, raisingthe whisky bottle, twisting off the cap and smelling.

'Idon't have a brother.'

Afterreceiving a stern look from Gunnarstranda, and taking a seat, Frølichamended his flippant remark: 'I wouldn't have hanged myself – not in arelative's house, nor anywhere else.'

'That'sthe point,' Gunnarstranda said, pouring whisky into the cap, sampling it and,with closed eyes, contorting his face. He went on: 'The typical suicide victimtries several times, isolates himself socially, feels sorry for himself anddrops hints to everyone and everything about how awful life is, but HenningKramer didn't do that.'

'Yes,the brother was in total shock, but you saw that, didn't you. I dropped the manoff at his mother's. He's going to stay there a few days. There's just the twoof them now that Henning's dead. The father died some years ago. Car accident.'

'HenningKramer was not a typical suicide victim,' the police inspector asserted withconviction. 'The process of suicide is like an upturned funnel. It starts withsmall signals that can go in several directions, but as the psychosis developssuicide becomes a kind of obsession.'

'Weknow nothing about him of that nature. Although he may have been going forregular psychiatric treatment.'

'Veryunlikely. Anyone employed at the rehab centre has to go through a thoroughexamination. A psychiatric patient would never have passed the test.'

'Thetests can't be that bloody good,' Frølich grinned. 'Kramer smokedhome-grown marijuana. His window sill at his mother's house was like agreenhouse.'

Gunnarstrandagave a sigh of desperation.

'Buthe may have been pretty depressed,' Frølich went on. 'If he killed her -Katrine.'

'That'sthe point!' The two of them stood staring into a void, rapt in thought.

'Hemay have done it,' Frølich repeated, meekly folding his hands. 'He mayhave killed her.'

Gunnarstranda:'How did her jewellery get into Skau's hands?'

'Noidea.'

'RaymondSkau will have to come up with something very good to explain away thejewellery.'

Theyounger policeman was not finished with Henning Kramer. 'From the evidence ofthis taxi driver I spoke to, Kramer was lying through his teeth about whathappened that night.'

'Butwhy would he kill himself?'

'Hecouldn't stand it any longer.'

Theyboth grinned at the empty rhetoric.

Theolder policeman went to the grill and turned over the meat. Frølichdrank more beer and enjoyed the view.

Atlast Frølich spoke. 'We have some hard facts: the girl was killed andHenning Kramer lied about what he was doing that night. So far we only know forcertain that Henning had a specific opportunity to take her jewellery. For allI know he could have sold it to Skau.' He pointed to clouds gathering in thesouth. 'Look,' he said. 'Storm clouds brewing again.'

Gunnarstrandapeered at the sky for a few seconds, then produced a cigarette, lit up and heldit covered in his hand. 'It's the same clouds you always see over Nesodden whenwe're in Oslo. It won't rain here; it follows the water – the fjord.'

Helifted a piece of meat to examine it before putting it back on the grill. 'Thequestion comes down to why Kramer would remove her jewellery,' he said atlength. 'Why would he remove her clothes and jewellery after killing her?'

'Toremove clues,' Frølich said, but on seeing his colleague's criticalglare continued on the defensive: 'I have no idea what he was thinking, not aninkling, but the fact of the matter is that he… I mean the person who killedher… must have removed the jewellery. And why? Maybe he wanted a souvenir, orperhaps he thought it would come in handy.'

'Orperhaps the person in question simply robbed her,' Gunnarstranda said in aquiet voice. A coughing fit was on its way up his creased neck.

WhileGunnarstranda wrestled with the paroxysm, Frank began to pick at the salad.'Would Kramer rob Katrine?' he wondered.

'NotHenning. If robbery was the motive it must have been Skau.'

Frølichdidn't think that was likely. He wrinkled his nose.

Gunnarstrandahad his breath back and was thinking aloud. 'Raymond Skau is the perfectperpetrator,' he decided. 'He's the brutal assailant we've been searching for,the man who bumps into a semi-clad babe in the middle of the night, a girl withwhom he once had an intense relationship and whom he beat up in a bout ofjealousy. The fact that he is in possession of the jewellery makes perfectsense. But then – our basic premises are no longer solid. The picture crumblesbecause Kramer lied. Hell!' Gunnarstranda banged his fist on the table.

'Atany rate, we have to find Skau,' Frølich said, composed. 'And now Iassume Gerhardsen is beyond suspicion.'

'Noone is beyond suspicion,' Gunnarstranda barked with irritation.

Frølichsighed. 'All we know for certain is that Henning drove to this car park by thelake. Observations of the car tally with what he told us.'

'So?'

'SupposeHenning killed her,' Frølich reasoned calmly. 'Henning knew Katrine. Hemay have known about Raymond Skau. He may have known about her problems withthe guy, and he may have known that Skau visited her at work earlier in theday. After all, Katrine made a lot of phone calls and one of them may have beento Henning. Imagine the two of them in the car. Her, a tasty looker,semi-naked, happy. Him, aroused, turned on by her. Suppose they were not on thesame wavelength. He was lusting for sex; she was thinking about quality oflife. He put his arms around her. She tried to brush him off with a joke, buthe wouldn't relent. He lost control, raped Katrine and strangled her. Accordingto criminal logic, the natural thing for him to do would be to remove all herclothes and jewellery, to hide any clues, but at the same time he knew thepolice would find semen in the body. He's read about DNA testing. Henning musthave known that the semen would lead the trail back to him. So he devised aplan. He sold us a line about the two of them having consensual sex in the carand he kept her jewellery. Perhaps he sold it on afterwards.'

'That'sa bit thin,' Gunnarstranda said.

'OK,you suggest something better.'

'Isuggest we eat,' Gunnarstranda said, grabbing a plate and marching towards thebarbecue.

Theyate in silence for a while. Salad, marinated steaks and fresh white bread. Theydrank cold beer. Frank had in fact never believed that an afternoon with thismisery guts could turn out to be so promising.