The Man In The Window [Mannen i vinduet - no]

'Yourrequest cannot be complied with,' Kirkenær answered in the same formal tone.

Gunnarstrandawatched the armed policeman. He passed by the car where the unit leader waslistening on the line and gesticulating.

'Granther safe conduct.'

'Yourrequest cannot be complied with,' Kirkenær repeated.

Gunnarstrandaglanced at the other car. The man listening in gesticulated again.

'Irepeat,' Gunnarstranda said, feverishly trying to think of something, 'eitheryou come out with your hands above your head or you allow Ingrid Jespersen safeconduct out of the flat. You have ten minutes. Otherwise the matter is out ofmy hands. When suspected criminals take hostages, the case is automaticallyreferred to a different department.'

'I'mnot taking hostages.'

'Thesmartest move would be to comply with my request. It will save us a lot ofbother, stress and unnecessary emotions.'

Kirkenærchuckled. 'Emotions. I like you, Gunnarstranda.'

'IngridJespersen has gone through enough already. Let her go.'

"FraidI can't.' Kirkenær sighed. 'The lady is my ticket out of here.'

'She'sinnocent.'

'She'snot innocent,' Kirkenær said with force.

'Herhusband was guiltless. Wasn't that so?'

'Hewas guilty until the day he died.'

'Therewas a witness who saw you that night,' Gunnarstranda said.

'You'rebluffing.'

'No.There was a witness.'

Kirkenær'sbreathing accelerated. 'Who?'

'Ataxi driver by the name of Ekholt.'

Kirkenærsniggered. 'The man's dead. I heard it myself on the radio.'

'Butyou didn't need to hear it, or read about it,' said Gunnarstranda. 'We know youkilled Richard Ekholt. We have proof.'

'You'reboring me, policeman.'

'Youforgot to take the driver's mobile phone with you. It was in the car where hewas found. It tells us as much as Ekholt could have told us if he had beenalive. Why do you think I'm here? We've surrounded you, Kirkenær. We'vepainstakingly slotted in the last pieces of the jigsaw. I have a print-out fromEkholt's mobile phone company which proves you contacted him and he you – allthe times too. I know Ekholt was watching you that night. I assume he didsomething to you he should not have done…'

'You'reputting me in a worse and worse situation, Gunnarstranda.'

'No,you put yourself in this situation…'

'Shutup!'

'It'sover now, Kirkenær. Come out. Ingrid Jespersen is innocent.'

'Thereare a variety of ways of approaching guilt, Gunnarstranda. I suppose, as apoliceman, you are used to rationalizing, aren't you?'

'Thatmay well be true, but you…'

Kirkenærinterupted: 'But hasn't it occurred to you that if you just use your mind you'reconstantly operating in relation to dreams and you never find out where youreally are?'

Gunnarstrandacraned his neck. Men in combat uniforms were running past the cars. A taxi hadstopped and half parked on the pavement. The driver was following what wasgoing on with interest.

'That'snot how I see my situation, but I understand your reasoning,' he said on thetelephone.

'Let'stake the opposite case. Some people always have to feel; they're feelingspeople. Their problem is that by feeling they take in only what happens andnever why things happen. Are you with me, Gunnarstranda?'

'I'mwith you.'

'Somewould say the logical approach is to think first and feel afterwards. But ifyou think before you feel, you twist the reality to fit your dreams instead ofturning your dreams and thoughts into reality – isn't that true?'

Gunnarstrandamanouevred a half-smoked cigarette out of the ashtray and pressed thecar-lighter. With the cigarette in his mouth he was unable to answer rightaway.

'Isn'tthat right?' Kirkenær yelled.

'Mm,yes, that's right.' Gunnarstranda took out the lighter and lit his cigarette.From the corner of his eye he could see the unit leader grimacing.

'That'swhy you and I have to choose the fourth method. Feel first, think afterwards:observe, feel and use your instincts to form rational decisions.'

'I'msure you're right,' Gunnarstranda commented dryly and inhaled. 'But you don'ttake hostages to give a lecture on philosophy, do you?'

Kirkenærchuckled. 'You see, Gunnarstranda. You've been influenced by the method. Youlistened to my explanation, took what I said and your other dealing with meinto account and then you came to a conclusion.'

Kirkenærcontinued: 'I don't expect you to under-stand. But if you had been through whatI've been through, you would have known I did the only thing possible.'

'Really?'the policeman said, playing along. In the adjacent car two men weregesticulating to him. 'Murdering Folke Jespersen or the taxi driver who sawyou?'

Kirkenærchuckled. 'Don't be so silly. If you continue like that, I'll put the phonedown.'

'Butwhy all the bother, Kirkenær? Why first plan the buy-out, then send the SSuniform and finally put the body in the shop window?'

'Hehad to be crushed, bit by bit, and to know who was taking revenge on him.'

'Butyou could have just parked outside the shop and run him down, couldn't you?'

'Iwanted to crush him, not kill him.'

'Whyput him in the shop window?'

'Sothat others could see his guilt.'

'Whydid you kill him?'

'Ididn't kill him.'

'Buthe died.'

'Hisdeath was beyond my control.'

'Whydid you come here?'

'Toget my revenge.'

'Anddid you get it?'

'No,I'm getting it now.'

'Irepeat,' Gunnarstranda urged. 'Ingrid Jespersen has nothing to do with thiscase.'

'Andwhat do you know about that? What authority have you got in this matter?'

'You'llhave to trust me,' Gunnarstranda said with slow precision. 'If I'm no longer…'

'I'vewished Reidar Folke Jespersen dead for a long time,' Kirkenær interrupted. 'Solong in fact that the dream has an entry in the annals of time. When he did diein the end, I felt no satisfaction at all.'

'There,you see…'

'That'swhy I've come to finish off what was started,'

Kirkenærinterrupted.

'Youmustn't even think of finishing anything,' Gunnarstranda said hastily with aglance to the left. One of the men in the car was nodding encouragement andpointing to his watch.

'Well,'the Police Inspector went on, 'the reason I've been on your heels is that youdon't have the right to take the lives of others, however great the painleading to the decision.'

Thepoliceman was about to go on, but Kirkenær jumped in first: 'We are speakingtwo different languages. The morality that you are advocating doesn't interestme, in much the same way as I don't care about the system or machinery of powerthat you represent.'

'Everyonecares about something.'

'Likewhat for example?'

'Yourmother and father.'

'FolkeJespersen was my father.'

Gunnarstrandawas lost for words.

'Didn'tyou know?' Kirkenær asked.

'Itwas one of the hypotheses that has led to me sitting here. But has it notoccurred to you that it might be a lie?'

'Whywould my mother lie?'

'Whatmakes you so sure she didn't? Why did she marry Klaus Fromm?'

Theother end went quiet.

Gunnarstranda'smind whirred. He looked to the left and was met by two tense faces. 'You wentto the meeting on Friday to let Folke Jespersen see you,' Gunnarstranda said.'He recognized you. He knew you were his son. He immediately revoked his willand arranged a meeting with your mother…'

'Mymother's dead,' Kirkenær broke in angrily. 'Why are you trying to blacken mymother's name?'

'Onno account would I dream of talking ill of your mother,' the policemanreassured him. 'I'm sure she was an exceptional woman. I believe, for example,that Reidar yearned for her all his life.'

Kirkenærwas breathing heavily down the line.

'DidI say something wrong?' the policeman asked.

Silenceat the other end for a few seconds. Gunnarstranda stared with growing unease atthe telephone. Then, in a dry, staccato voice, Kirkenær began to speak: 'At thecrack of dawn on 8th May 1945 Reidar Folke Jespersen kicked in the door to mymother's house and dragged her out of bed. Her husband had been led away afterthe Germans surrendered and was being held in prison. I was two years old,lying in a cot in the same bedroom. But the Norwegian heroes ignored me. It wasfour o'clock in the morning when Reidar Folke Jespersen and five other mendrove my mother out of town to a lay-by in Maridalen. There they cut off herhair. My mother described it to me, several times. There were six of them.Three of them raped her, one after the other. Two held her down and one – I'msure you can guess who – stood watching. Afterwards she was left to get back totown on her own, wearing a torn nightdress and with a shorn head. Her child wasalone in an empty, ravaged flat in Oslo. It was a hike of almost tenkilometres. And every time she met people on the road, she was given a blow tothe back or they spat in her face. But she walked tall. She was bleeding downbelow, her body was soiled by the sperm of unknown men, there were cuts allover her face and body, but she marched the ten kilometres back to town with astraight back, because she had no intention of accepting, she had no intentionof using the same human concepts of guilt. Her love was defined as treason. Asa woman she had broken her oath of allégiance to Norway during the Germanoccupation; she had given her love and her body to a German soldier. Thus shehad insulted her country and those who were insulted presumed the right to beather with sticks, spit at her, defile her and humiliate her.'