The sirens had now reached Fløenbakken. With an effort, I straightened up, and for the first time took a proper look round.
The place looked as though a bomb had hit it. The vicar’s wife from Fana would never recognise her Toyota now. It didn’t take much imagination to see that they were quite angry, as were the owners of the two cars I’d parked between.
True, one of them had only had one side of the rear torn off, yet I doubted whether it would ever be driven again. The other two looked more like accordions than cars, while the crash had hammered mine into a ball, now lying on its roof among the bushes, no more than half a yard from where I’d landed myself. The car that had been beside it wasn’t a pretty picture either. Doors, lamps, lights and the remains of bumpers lay scattered over the whole area.
The juggernaut towered monster-like over the whole scene. The driver’s door was hanging off like a torn ear, but there was no doubt who had emerged victorious from the collision.
‘Veum… is that you?’
‘Yes…’
I recognised the two police constables from before. Ristesund and Bolstad were the sort you could talk to. Both were from west Norway, both had moustaches. Bolstad’s was reddish brown; Ristesund’s black.
‘Any idea what happened?’ asked Bolstad.
I gestured vaguely with one hand. ‘Somebody or other who ran amok with an articulated truck.’
Ristesund glanced at the truck driver’s seat. ‘Damn right he ran amok. And then? Just vanished into thin air?’
‘I wasn’t – exactly – all there…’
‘Can’t you see he’s hurt?’ said Karin irritably.
Bolstad took out his notebook. ‘So did you witness what happened?’
‘No. I just live here!’
‘Is any of this your car, Veum?’ asked Ristesund.
‘That,’ I mumbled. ‘What’s left of it.’
He gave a little chuckle. ‘Hope you’re insured.’
‘It’s insured up to the hilt. Will that do?’
‘Was it you they were after?’ said Bolstad.
I looked round and said softly: ‘I’d keep my voice down if I were you, with all these car-owners right next to us.’
‘But?’
‘I went down to see Muus a few days ago to tell him about a threatening letter I’d received. You could say I’ve just received another, with a genuine first-day issue stamp on it this time.’
‘Any idea who might be behind it?’
I made a vague gesture. ‘No more than last time.’
I noticed Karin’s eyes on my face. I looked down. She knew me better than Ristesund and Bolstad did.
‘And you didn’t see who did it? Who it was, I mean?’
‘God, no. It all happened so fast. I was just getting out of my car, and bang! If I’d still been in the car, there wouldn’t be much of a peep out of me now.’
‘Nothing that might help to identify him?’
‘He was wearing a helmet.’
‘Helmet?’
‘And… as I lay spread-eagled over there in the bushes, I heard a motorbike being started up.’
Bolstad walked over to the patrol car. ‘I’ll put out a call to tell the other cars to keep an eye out for a motorcyclist. And also to run a check on the number plate of – that thing.’
Given the cold, most of the neighbours had now satisfied their curiosity. The only ones left were the two hapless car-owners and a woman I assumed was married to one of them. They stood there shaking their heads, while carrying on a hushed conversation, now and then scowling at Karin and me.
Bolstad returned. ‘The articulated truck belongs to a firm in Åsane. They’re ringing the boss now to find out whether it’s been stolen.’
Ristesund looked at me. ‘I think you should pop down to A &E, don’t you?’
‘Yes, you should,’ said Karin quickly.
Bolstad agreed. ‘We can ring for a taxi. Unfortunately, we still need to hang about here for a bit. If you think of anything else, don’t forget to contact us.’
‘No, I – I’m due to call in at headquarters tomorrow morning anyway. We can talk about it then.’
‘Are you going to ring now?’ said Karin in a worried tone. I didn’t mention it, but I seemed to hear her words twice, like an echo.
At Accident and Emergency, they thought I’d come out of it surprisingly well. There were no fractures in the arm, and as for my head, it was little more than slight concussion. If I took it easy for a week, the symptoms would just disappear.
I didn’t nod because it hurt to do so. Nor did I shake my head. I also avoided Karin’s eyes.
A week – that was an eternity by my reckoning. Anyway, I had an appointment: Thursday, two o’clock, at police headquarters.
They attended to the cuts on my face from branches and thorns and dispatched me back into the world without any further advice.
As we stood waiting for the return taxi afterwards, I said: ‘I think I’ll go back to my place this evening, Karin.’
‘But why -?’
‘I have the feeling your neighbours won’t be all that pleased to see me again.’
‘I don’t think you should take that -’
‘Besides, I don’t want to expose you to any danger.’
The taxi arrived. ‘I’ll come with you,’ she said.
The taxi ride home was enough to make me feel sick again. The outer door downstairs was locked. All was in darkness in the flat of the widower on the ground floor.
When I let myself in upstairs I opened the door carefully and took a good look around before stepping inside. But no truck stood there on the kitchen floor ready to go into action as soon as I showed my face.
As we sat on my old sofa, bought in a sale in 1974, each with a cup in our hands, she gave me a worried look. ‘You look – furious, Varg.’
I clenched my fist. ‘I am furious.’
‘Because of – what happened tonight?’
‘That too… but mainly because of what happens to girls like Torild Skagestøl… Damn it, there’s a far bigger network of shady clients out there than there is of people trying to help, for God’s sake. Hotel staff, doctors, taxi drivers and pimps – and then guys like Birger Bjelland, our Pontius Pilate from Stavanger!’
‘Did you find out anything down there?’
‘Yes, I did actually. I’m going to get him this time, Karin!’
‘But not for a week!’
‘Not before tomorrow anyway…’
She looked at me reproachfully. ‘Varg…’
I put my hand over her mouth. Our eyes met. Then I put my face close to hers, placed my hands on either side of her head and held it tight. I was fifty; she was a few years younger. There was no landscape that gave me such peace to walk in as hers.
Thou art fair my love… Thy lips are like a thread of scarlet… Thy temples are like a pomegranate… Thy breasts are like two young roes that are twins, which feed among the lilies… Until the day break and the shadows flee away, I will get me to the mountain of myrrh, and to the hill of frankincense… Thou art all fair my love there is no spot in thee…
Later, when she had fallen asleep, I once again lay listening to the sound of her breathing, yet could not fall asleep myself.
Sleep is the prelude to death. If you stay in bed too long, there is no telling what might happen.
Forty-two
I AWOKE to find her standing beside the bed.
Her voice sounded as though she was in an aquarium. ‘Varg? How do you feel?’
‘Like Jonah in the belly of the whale. Are we there already?’
‘You were sleeping so soundly that I hadn’t the heart to waken you. But I must be off now.’
‘Have you had your breakfast?’
She nodded. ‘You’ll take it easy today, won’t you? Promise?’
‘I’ll try not to get too worked up. I’ll move slowly and breathe deeply in and out. More than that I can’t promise, not hand on heart, until the lid is screwed down tight on this case for good.’