I checked the front door carefully before letting myself in, went cautiously from room to room, opening the doors fully and turning the lights on before stepping in.
The flat was as empty as a Scout’s promise twenty years on.
I rustled up a Veum speciaclass="underline" leeks fried with chopped tomatoes, beaten eggs poured over it to make a sort of omelette, a bit ragged at the edges, but it went down a treat
I made a cup of proper filter coffee and sat watching a TV debate that was about as meaningful as a free number on the Reeperbahn. Then I poured myself a glass of aquavit, put on a Ben Webster CD and went to fetch a book from the pile waiting to be read on my bedside table.
But I couldn’t concentrate.
I sat there with a kind of bad conscience, the feeling I’d been so accustomed to during the years I’d worked in Child Welfare. In fact, I should not have been sitting here taking it easy. I ought to have been out on the streets looking for Torild.
The old boy on the floor below was as quiet as a mouse. He’d been widowed a few years before and since then, all I ever heard from below was now and then the tinkle of a bottle cap when he opened a beer or the sound of the radio on the rare occasions he put it on a bit too loud at six a.m.
At eleven-thirty there was suddenly a ring at the front door downstairs.
I went over to the window, opened it carefully and looked out. It was Karin.
‘Hi,’ she said, smiling up at me in the darkness. ‘Can I come in?’
I went down and unlocked the door. She came in and gave me a quick hug. ‘You sounded as though you could do with some company.’
We went upstairs and she hung up her dark coat in the hall. Underneath, she was wearing smooth black corduroy slacks, a white blouse and a dark-brown suede jacket that emphasised her slim waist. ‘I’ve brought my toothbrush,’ she said with a little smile.
I kissed her tenderly. ‘A toothbrush and good spirits. That’ll do for anybody.’ A slight hint of red wine lingered over her. ‘Can I get you something to drink?’
Beaming at me, she returned my kiss full on the mouth. ‘Yes…’
In the bedroom we slowly undressed one another. I lay her back across the bed, ran my tongue in a gentle line gently down over her belly, carefully parted her labia and kissed her again passionately. She sighed, opened her thighs even wider and devoured me in great mouthfuls as though after a long fast.
Afterwards she said: ‘Eva and I went out for a glass of wine after the concert. Her husband’s left her for a girl who could easily be their daughter.’
‘A cleverer man than me once said: When you get older, and if you’re reasonable, the women you fall for will grow older as you do.’
She snuggled in under my armpit, kissed me below my ear and said: ‘So that’s why things are so good between us, is it…?’
‘Mm.’
The next morning she kissed me again, and we went into town together. That’s why I didn’t see the front page of the paper until I was back at the office, and then the main headline hit me smack between the eyes:
GIRL FOUND DEAD ON FANAFJELL
Twelve
SIDSEL SKAGESTØL answered the telephone at the first ring as though she’d been sitting there waiting. Her voice was strained and shrilclass="underline" ‘Hello?’
‘It’s Veum.’
‘Oh.’ The change in her tone was so obvious it was almost palpable. ‘Er… I thought it was Holger.’ Then it quickly altered again. ‘Is there anything new?’
‘No, alas. I haven’t found her, if that’s what you mean.’
‘Yes, I… Holger’s down there now.’
‘With the police?’
‘Yes. He…’ Her voice tailed off.
‘I saw the headline in the paper.’
‘But it’s not certain it’s her!’
‘Course it isn’t. She… The girl has to be identified first, in any case.’
‘Yes.’
‘Is there anything I can do for you?’
‘Not now.’ Weakly she added: ‘Have you found out anything about her at all? About where she might – be?’
‘No, but I’m working on it.’
‘I think I’m going to have to ring off, Veum, so the phone won’t be engaged when he rings.’
‘If anything at all crops up, don’t be afraid to get in touch with me. If the case has already been – cleared up, then I’ll actually owe you some money. I’ll write out an itemised -’
‘That’s all right, Veum. We’ll keep in touch.’ With no further formalities she hung up.
I carefully replaced the receiver and sat there looking out of the window.
A few sparse snowflakes were falling over the city, like ash from a giant campfire somewhere high above. The layer of cloud above the mountains was ashen grey too, without a hint of a glow even though it was already after sunrise.
I picked up the paper and read the short notice again.
A young, so far unidentified, woman was found in a road-fill roughly midway between Fanaseter and Nordvik, on the eastern slope of Fanafjell Mountain. She was partly undressed, and there were clear signs of violence. However, it was still too early to say whether she had also been the victim of a sexual assault. The cause of death had not been established either. The person leading the investigation, Detective Inspector Dankert Muus, stated that, for the moment, the police were concentrating on establishing the young woman’s identity and also securing the scene of the crime and combing it for evidence.
I got up, went over to the sink, filled a glass of water straight from the tap, drank it, went back to the desk, sat down, cleared away some piles of papers in front of me and counted slowly to ten before lifting the receiver, dialling the number of the police station and asking to speak to Dankert Muus.
He was out.
I hesitated slightly. ‘It’s about the body found up on Fanafjell. Could you put me through to someone else?’
Yes, she could. I was put through to Eva Jensen after about twenty seconds.
‘It’s Veum.’
‘Oh, hello…’
‘It’s about that girl you’ve found. Has she been identified?’
‘Er. No. Muus is down at forensic at the moment, with a man who -’
‘- could be the father. Holger Skagestøl, right?’
‘That’s something I can’t -’
‘OK. The fact is that – I’ve been working on a case. A girl who’s been missing about a week, Torild Skagestøl. So far I’ve found very little trace of her, so when a girl suddenly turns up dead, I’m – worried, if you see what I mean.’
‘We haven’t many details either yet, Veum.’
‘When Muus is back, could you ask him to give me a call?’
‘By all means, Veum.’
After our conversation, I sat there staring vacantly ahead.
It was dead time, literally speaking. On the sheet of paper I wrote out the names I’d noted down in connection with Torild Skagestøl’s disappearing act:
Åsa Furebø (Trond, Randi)
Astrid Nikolaisen (Gerd, Kenneth?)
Helene Sandal, Nattland School
Sigrun Søvik, Guides leader
Jimmy’s: Kalle? (Ronny)
What about the hotel I’d tailed the two girls to from Jimmy’s? Almost without thinking, I added a new name to the list:
Judge Brandt
Then I called Paul Finckel.
His voice was gravelly as though he’d got up early – or already started his weekend.
He beat me to it. ‘Varg? Don’t tell me! You don’t have something to do with this killing as well, do you?’
‘Not necessarily. Know anything about it?’
‘She still hasn’t been identified.’
‘I know. But do you have any – particulars? Anything about her condition?’ I could hear him leafing through some papers. ‘Was it delicate, d’you mean? Not guilty, your honour.’
I waited.
‘A good laugh makes you live longer, Varg. Haven’t you heard that?’