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‘What could that have been?’

‘That’s what I’m asking you. Could you do that again?’

‘What? What should I do again?’

‘Fling your hands out once again. Forgive me for saying so, but you look like an actor who is being forced to play the same scene for the twentieth time. No offence intended.’

Brunner opened his mouth for two seconds, then closed it again. Van Veeteren took a biscuit, and congratulated himself on rather a successful opening move.

‘What is it you’re actually after?’ asked Brunner when he had recovered. ‘You don’t really have any authorization any more, am I right? You’ve left the police force, haven’t you?’

‘True,’ said Van Veeteren. ‘Why do you ask? Have you something to hide?’

‘Of course not. It’s just that I think you are acting a bit aggressively. Why should I have anything to hide?’

‘God moves in a mysterious way,’ said Van Veeteren. ‘But it is quite obvious to me that you are uncomfortable about this conversation. If you asked me to say what I think, I would say that you were not on very good terms with Pastor Gassel. Am I right?’

Brunner had problems with the colour of his face again.

‘We respected each other,’ he said. ‘You must. . you must understand that to a large extent the work of a parish priest is just like any other job. As vicar, I am of course in charge of everything when it comes to responsibilities and duties. .’

‘So you had different views when it came to beliefs?’

The vicar thought for a moment.

‘In one respect, yes.’

‘On something important?’

Brunner stood up and started walking backwards and forwards around the room.

‘Why are you insisting on this?’ he asked after half a minute’s silence. ‘Is it so important for you?’

‘I don’t know yet,’ said Van Veeteren. ‘Maybe, maybe not. But the fact is that Pastor Gassel came to me to confess, fundamentally speaking. One might have thought it would have been more natural for him to go to his own vicar. Or at any rate to somebody inside the church’s organization. Personally, I’m a defector, an agnostic detective chief inspector.’

Brunner stopped.

‘What did he want?’ he asked.

It seemed to occur to him almost immediately that he didn’t really have any right to ask such a question, and he sat down in the armchair again and sighed.

‘I never discovered what he wanted,’ explained Van Veeteren. ‘But I had hoped that you might be able to point me in the right direction.’

‘I see. Let me think for a moment.’

Brunner clasped his hands in his lap and closed his eyes. Van Veeteren assumed that in this simple way he was obtaining permission to proceed from a higher authority, and wondered in passing if this might be one of the motives for all religious activities: the need to pass responsibility on to somebody else.

The unwillingness to bear the burden.

‘All right,’ said Brunner in a matter-of-fact tone of voice, opening his eyes. ‘Yes, we had several differences of opinion, Pastor Gassel and I. You are right in that respect.’

Van Veeteren looked up at the ceiling and gave silent thanks for the praise accorded to him.

‘What differences?’ he asked.

‘Pastor Gassel was homosexual.’

‘Really?’ said Van Veeteren.

There followed a moment’s silence.

‘One can have different views on homosexuality,’ said Brunner.

‘Can one?’ said Van Veeteren.

‘Personally I have a liberal attitude based on biological and Christian points of view.’

‘Meaning what?’ wondered Van Veeteren.

‘Nobody should be condemned because he — or she — has a deviant sexuality.’

‘I agree.’

‘But the person concerned must make the best of the situation. Acknowledging one’s homosexuality is of course a vital and necessary step — Pastor Gassel and I were in complete agreement on that score. But we had different opinions when it came to the next step.’

‘Which is?’ wondered Van Veeteren.

‘Fighting against it, of course,’ said the vicar, sitting up straight. ‘There are natural circumstances, and unnatural circumstances, and in the church we must pray for and help those who find themselves in unnatural circumstances. For me, this has always been obvious and a guiding principle. One can perhaps understand individuals who are unable — who don’t have the strength — to fight against their illness: but when a priest doesn’t even understand the importance of fighting against it at all, well, he is on the wrong path. His own illness, and what is more. . well, perhaps you can understand our different points of view now?’

Van Veeteren nodded.

‘I think so. Did you notice anything unusual in Pastor Gassel’s behaviour shortly before his death?’

The vicar shook his head slowly.

‘No, I don’t think so. Not that I can recall, at least.’

‘Was he depressed?’

‘Not as far as I know.’

‘Do you know if anything special happened during the autumn or the late summer that might have been traumatic for him?’

‘Traumatic? No, I’ve no idea of anything like that. But then we didn’t have the sort of relationship that would lead to him confiding in me, because. . well, because of what we’ve just been talking about.’

‘I understand,’ said Van Veeteren. ‘I assume you can’t comment on the likelihood of him committing suicide or that sort of thing?’

‘When it comes to matters of faith we are not as rigid as the Roman Catholics,’ said Brunner, clearing his throat. ‘Of course it is never right to take your own life: but it is not for us to judge a desperate person who turns to desperate measures. .’

‘If we leave matters of faith to one side,’ said Van Veeteren, ‘would you say it was possible rather than out of the question that Gassel might have committed suicide?’

The vicar pursed his lips and seemed to be thinking hard.

‘I really can’t say,’ he said eventually. ‘I don’t think he would have done, of course, and know of nothing that would suggest he might have done. But on the other hand, I can’t exclude the possibility altogether.’

‘Do you know if he was in a relationship? Did he live with a partner, for instance?’

The vicar blushed again.

‘A partner? No, certainly not. . But I have no idea about. . about that sort of thing.’

‘I see. Was it public knowledge in the parish — his deviant sexuality, as you called it?’

‘The fact that he was homosexual?’

‘Yes.’

‘I hope not. It would have come to my notice if it had been, and we had at least come to an agreement that he wouldn’t make a song and dance about it. It’s a very sensitive matter in connection with the teaching of confirmands, and of course it is the vicar who must accept ultimate responsibility. I hope you realize that all this hasn’t been exactly easy for me.’

No, Van Veeteren thought. You poor thing — you manage to persuade the diocese to award you an extra post, and you end up with a clockwork orange. It must be a bit annoying, to be sure.

But hardly so annoying that the vicar would feel it necessary to dispatch Gassel into the Twilight Zone by shoving him under a train? His face seemed to be too mild and innocent for anything like that.

‘So it was because of these little differences of opinion that he was unwilling to go and confess to you? Do you agree to that as a reasonable conclusion to draw?’

Brunner thought for a moment.

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘That’s the way things were, unfortunately. And I don’t think he would have turned to Pastor Hartlew either. As you know, confession is not a sacrament in our church, but of course there is always the possibility of getting things off one’s chest. In the knowledge that whatever one says will go no further. But I don’t understand why he turned to you, of all people.’

‘Neither do I,’ said Van Veeteren, who saw no point in mentioning Gassel’s Catholic aunt. ‘Does Pastor Hartlew share your views on homosexuality?’

‘I’m sure he does.’