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

'Ican't remember taking it. But I remember looking at it. I couldn't take my eyesoff it. While he was talking about all those he had killed during the war andwhile he went into detail about the convulsions people suffered as life ebbedaway – all that time I was staring at the black steel. I remember thinkingabout how elegantly it had been formed, how such a gruesome, evil intention hadbeen moulded into an object. He said he wasn't afraid to die. I think he askedme if I would do him the favour of killing him. I don't know if I answered him.I think I did – I refused. I don't remember because I couldn't take my eyes offthe blade.

'WhenI did, everything had gone quiet. But it was too late. I looked up. Somethinghad happened to his eyes. I have never seen anything like it. As if he hadsnapped. Prove it, he shouted and threw himself on the bayonet.'

Strømstedraised his head.

'Andthat was it?'

Strømstedflashed a hollow smile. 'That was it? I didn't have a chance. I was standing inhis little office, leaning against the wall, when he rushed headlong at me. Ifelt the steel sinking into his flesh. He put both arms round me, held on tightas his body quivered. We slid down the office wall. He was lying on top of meand kicking with his legs. Blood was spurting out. I had blood over my face, myhair and neck. It was running down the inside of my sweater. And you sit thereand ask if that was it?'

'Wereyou holding the bayonet?'

'Ofcourse I was. But this is the incomprehensible part. I can't recall it movingfrom his hand into mine.'

'Whatdid you do afterwards?'

'Ican remember freeing myself.'

'Inthe office?'

'Afterhe finally stopped jerking. I rolled over towards the door.'

'Wasthe light on in the shop?'

'No,just in the office.'

'Whathappened next?'

'Iremember standing there with the bayonet in my hand and looking down at myself.The old man was dead, that much was obvious. He face was white and his mouthwide open. I felt dreadful – warm blood inside my clothes – and lookeddreadful. Don't remember what I was thinking, but I wiped down everything I hadbeen near when I was in the office. Afterwards I went up to Ingrid's flat andrang the bell.' 'Did she open the door?'

'Yes.I told her what had happened.'

'Whatdid you do?'

'Ihad a shower while she washed my clothes. We dried them in her tumble-dryer.'

'Howlong were you there?'

'Untilfive.'

'Andthen?'

'ThenI went home.'

'Didyou at any point consider calling the police or turning yourself in?'

'Yes.'

'Whydidn't you?'

'Weagreed it would be best not to.'

'Whoagreed?'

'Well,it was my decision.'

'Why?'

'Friends,lots of people, knew about the incident earlier that Friday, his phone callwhen Ingrid and I were in bed. I told Sjur, as a joke, because it was funny. Iknow Sjur had told it to many more people. The phone call was already a goodstory doing the rounds. I knew that the police would find out sooner or later.But when Ingrid's old man died, the incident wasn't so funny any more. All of asudden it seemed hard to imagine that I would be believed – that it was anaccident.'

'Didyou go back downstairs to the shop?'

'No.We agreed that Ingrid would "discover" the body when it became light.And call the police.'

'Didyou go through the dead man's pockets?'

'No.''Did you notice anything as you were leaving?'

'Likewhat?'

'Likethe shop window, for example?'

'No.'

'Wherewas the body lying when you left?'

'Hewas lying on his stomach in the doorway between the office and the shop.'

'Andthe front door was unlocked when you arrived?'

'Yes.'

'Whenwould that have been?'

'Iwould reckon at around half past twelve, maybe closer to one.'

'Andhow long after did he die?'

'Athalf past one, maybe.'

'AndKirkenær?' Gunnarstranda asked as Frølich drifted into the office.

'Stillin a coma.'

'Shame.'

'Willhe go free?' Frølich asked.

Gunnarstrandashook his head. 'He desecrated the body,' he said. 'He went there during thenight. We have Iselin Varås's wordfor that. He found the body, stripped it, penned his message and placed it inthe shop window after removing the keys. Those acts on their own are theft anddesecration – enough for a charge.'

'Butcan we be bothered?'

'No,'Gunnarstranda said, lighting a cigarette. 'We'll charge him with murder.' Hewaved the lists of calls from Ekholt's mobile phone.

Frølichobserved him from under knitted eyebrows.

Gunnarstrandablew a perfect smoke ring. 'Ekholt was sitting in his taxi and saw everythingthat was going on in the shop window. He didn't see the killing because thathappened in the back office and the shop was pitch black. But he did see whoput the body in the armchair by the window. Ekholt put two and two together andgot eleven. Of course he thought he was watching the murderer. Iselin Varåssaid Kirkenær took a taxi back to the Continental that night. She had no ideawhat was going on. But she was worried when they began to get phone calls froma strange man purporting to be a taxi driver. Kirkenær refused to talk to theman, and he refused to allow her to talk to him. Who else could the taxi driverhave been if not Ekholt? Kirkenær thought he was hailing a normal taxi with anormal driver that night, not a witness. For his part, Ekholt thought thatKirkenær had killed the old man, so he made sure his taxi was chosen. Accordingto Iselin Varås, Kirkenær seemed edgy and irritable every time the strangercalled. Kirkenær slammed down the phone every time except for once. Iselin saidthat one evening he had agreed to meet the man and had gone out soonafterwards. I thought it might be interesting to find out which evening itwas.' Gunnarstranda waved the paper he was holding in his hand. 'I showed herthis list of calls from Ekholt's mobile phone. The stranger's calls matched thelist exactly.'

'Kirkenærmet Ekholt the same night Ekholt spoke to me,' Frølich said in a low tone.

Gunnarstrandaflicked the ash off his cigarette. 'Ekholt must have had one single purpose, toblackmail Kirkenær. The phone call to you was a sign that he meant businesswhen he was threatening Kirkenær that he would tell everything he knew. What hedidn't take into account was that Kirkenær was dangerous.' Police InspectorGunnarstranda stubbed out his cigarette on the sole of his shoe and gaveanother sparkling white smile. 'When Hermann Kirkenær wakes up from his coma,he'll be staring right into your mug,' he said softly. 'And you will charge himwith the murder of the greedy taxi driver – Richard Ekholt.'

Kjell Ola Dahl

The highly acclaimed and award winning crime writer K.O. Dahl's popular crime series is now rapidly becoming an international success and critics around the world have labeled him as Norway's answer to Henning Mankell. Dahl has been awarded with the Riverton Prize and nominated for Glasnyckeln (The Glass Key), Brage Literary Prize and the Martin Beck Award. His books include The Fourth Man, The Man in the Window, The Last Fix, and Lethal Investments.

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