Devil's Touch (20 page)

Chapter 21

Not until sometime later does Nathan choose an exit. He feels a little stiff after spending most of the day on a café chair and several hours in the car. The scenery changes as he drives on, the road gets more and more winding and the mountains appear in the distance. The water in the lake reflects the tree tops and he can hear a goat in the distance. The gravel crunches under the tires and he stops in front of the little shop where he and Denize have always loved to shop. They loved the whole experience of coming there. The small bell in its twisted holder over the door. They used to say that the bell had probably been there since the industrial revolution and that it was made by a blacksmith with a huge beard.

"But Nathan, it’s been a long time. Are you staying in the cabin for a couple of days?"

"No, I’m afraid not. I just want to check up on it and drive back tomorrow. I need you to deliver some groceries to the house tomorrow morning. Is that OK? I’m not leaving until around ten."

"Yes, of course, Nathan. No problem."

"I’ll just take some dinner now and you can bring up the rest tomorrow."

"That’s fine."

Nathan takes a cart and walks slowly round the shop. He puts some cans of food in the cart, some nails, some garden gloves and finally a plastic tube. He takes some time with the plastic tube. Finally he picks up some duct tape and throws it in the cart before going back to the old oak counter.

"I think that’s all I need."

"OK, I’ll just put it on your bill and you can pay next time. Then you can leave straight away. The sun is about to go down and if you want to have a look at the house, it’s better in daylight. I can see that you’ve found some big nails. You have a hammer, right?"

Nathan seems surprised.

"Yes, of course."

He laughs. The owner’s wife comes over and smiles as she says hi to him.

"We really miss seeing you. I guess you don’t use the cabin so much now, after Denize?”

She continues without waiting for him to answer.

"Oh, we really miss her. She was such a sweet person."

Nathan looks at her.

"Me too."

Nathan looks at her a little while longer, and then he looks at the owner whose plump face makes him look like a well fed gentleman. Nathan is sure that his wife has reached his heart through his stomach.

"No, I would like to pay for everything now."

"That’s really not necessary, Nathan."

"Yes, let’s just do it anyway, and if I have any old bills I’ll pay those as well."

Nathan doesn’t look at the owner and puts the plastic tube and the duct tape to the side.

"I’ll take these with me now."

OK, Nathan. But you really don’t have to pay now."

"Yes, let’s just do it."

Nathan takes out his credit card and the owner shakes his head.

"It’s really not necessary, Nathan."

"OK. Credit card it is."

Nathan gets his card back when he notices a knife lying in the counter.

"Can I borrow that for a second?"

The owner is a little surprised as he looks over at the knife and nods. Nathan unpacks the plastic tube and cuts off a large piece. Then he leaves the rest of the tube on the counter.

"Will you bring that tomorrow as well?"

"Sure."

He hesitates and his wife opens her mouth, but Nathan smiles at her before she has time to say anything.

"See you tomorrow."

Nathan smiles at them both and leaves the shop with the tube and the duct tape. When he hears the familiar sound of the bell, he stops for a while to look at it. He sighs and smiles and then walks over to his car. He stops in front of one of the gas pumps, but moves on.

"I wonder if I need to bring him some gas too.”

The shop owner looks at his wife.

"He knows we’ll help him with anything. He can just call us if he needs us."

"He must become hungry soon. He didn’t bring any dinner."

"I’m sure he brought some take away from the city. How about you? Are you hungry?"

"Oh, yes. You know I’m always hungry."

He smiles and pats her on the bottom.

Nathan feels the weak rays from the sun against his skin and on the last part of the ride, he takes in every little thing. He doesn’t drive all the way up to the house, but stops on the small turning space just before. His front window is filled with the most beautiful scenery he knows, and he feels incredibly lucky that he owns it. No matter how much Denize and him travelled, there was never a view as beautiful as this one. Sometimes they had brought a couple of chairs and their coffee to the turning space to enjoy the sunset. In the winter they would freeze as they waited for the bright and shiny stars to come out. Then they would go inside, light a fire in the fireplace and fall asleep on the couch in each other’s arms. He shivers and his face reflects the mixture of pain, longing and helplessness that he feels when he realizes how much he misses their intimacy. He gets out of the car, opens the trunk and takes out the duct tape and the plastic tube. Then he closes the trunk carefully and stands there for while with his hand on the black paint. He examines the plastic tube and then seems to make up his mind and grabs hold of it. He has read enough police reports to know what to do. He takes one end of the tube and presses it over the exhaust pipe. It’s not hard. He pulls at it a little and, with a weird sound, it slides off the hot exhaust pipe. He gets up and fetches a bottle of water from the car. He looks at it for a while, trying to remember where and when he bought it. He gives up and instead screws off the cap of the bottle and pours the water over the exhaust pipe. He hears a sizzling sound when the water hits the pipe and keeps pouring. Then the bottle is empty, and the water has formed a small puddle on the dusty ground. Nathan looks around and then kicks the ground with the tip of his shoe and the dust settles on the water. There is also a thin layer of dust on his black, well-polished shoe. He bends down and carefully touches the exhaust pipe. Then he pushes the tube back on it and wraps duct tape around both the tube and the exhaust pipe. He looks around for something to cut the tape with, then he shrugs, wraps the tape around a few more times and leaves the rest of it hanging from the exhaust pipe.

"Even now I’m a man of details and perfection."

He looks at the roll of tape dangling from the exhaust pipe. He breathes heavily, gets back into the car and closes the door. He sits there for a long time as the sun moves down under the horizon, and slowly sinks behind the mountains. The shadows of the tree tops over the lake become long and dusk approaches. He nods slowly.

"It’s time."

He turns the key in the ignition and when the shadows of the trees reach the car, Nathan can smell the underground parking lot again. When the light from the sun becomes pink and pale blue, Nathan’s lungs contract in a violent cough. Then there’s just fatigue and darkness closes around the car. The car lights shine brightly on the trees, and a there’s a faint shimmer of light on the surface of the lake. The stars shine brighter, but Nathan’s empty eyes can no longer see the beauty of them. The car engine slows down and then stops. The trees remain lit for a long time before the beam of light on the lake slowly fades and disappears. A faint glow from the car lights shines on the dust in front of the car and then the only light that remains comes from the stars over Nathan’s head.

Chapter 22

The coffee cup has been empty for a long time when Fredericsson finally arrives. He has been driving for over two hours and wonders if anyone is still left in the apartment. His boss had called him back, but had given up and let an officer call him up two more times. He had tried to make them send someone else, but it didn’t work. They had been stubborn about doing what the boss had told them. Finally he had given up and decided that he would probably have done the same if he was in their shoes. He feels that luck is finally shining on him when he finds a parking spot just in front of the entrance. While humming a tune he walks over to the door which is opened by an old lady with a walker on her way out. He politely takes a step back and smiles at her, but she just looks mad. He shakes his head.
”That’s not going to ruin my day.”
He lets the door fall shut behind him and waits for the click while he looks around and feels his energy slowly returning. Fast steps are coming toward him.

"Excuse me, police?"

Fredericsson turns toward the voice.

"Ahm, yes."

"This way."

A small man with a friendly round face steps back so that Fredericsson can go first.

"There’s an elevator on the right."

With a couple of fast steps he walks up to Fredericsson.

"There."

He pushes the button by the elevator and the doors open.

"It’s on the fifth floor."

Fredericsson turns to face him.

"And you are?"

"Oh, I’m the caretaker."

Fredericsson nods absently and the door of the elevator close.

"Stupid me!"

He throws back his head.

"I didn’t get his name!"

He slowly shakes his head and pushes out his lower lip.
”Rookie mistake, rookie mistake.”
His focus returns when the doors open and a young officer comes over to meet him. He looks like he hasn’t been out of the police academy for more than a couple of years. Fredericsson feels tired again and has to fight to focus as he approaches the apartment. The young officer walks next to him.

"Any chance you’re Fredericsson?"

The officer looks at him full of hope. Fredericsson nods.

"About time."

"You think?"

Fredericsson briefly looks him in the eye before taking a look inside the apartment.

"What’s the story? And make it short, I want to go home."

"We all do. We’ve been waiting for you."

Fredericsson gives him a tired look and the officer turns away.

"Let’s go inside."

"Skip the part about when you got here and when it was phoned in. I’ve already heard that twice over the phone."

They enter the apartment and the coroner looks up.

"Fredericsson?"

He nods.

"Can we take him?"

The coroner nods at the couch. Fredericsson looks over there but his eyes stop at the huge glass stable. He smiles.

"There’s white powder all over the place."

"Cocaine, and stronger than anything we have ever seen before. So I expect to see some overdoses in the future."

Fredericsson slowly walks over to the table before squatting down next to it.

"There are rings in the powder from a bottle."

The crime scene investigator is standing right behind him.

"Yes."

The sound of his voice startles Fredericsson. The crime scene investigator squats down next to him and laughs. Fredericsson looks at him.

"I’ve hardly slept last night. They’re dropping like flies these days."

The crime scene investigator tries hard not to laugh.

"Please."

Fredericsson speaks softly and the other man’s laugh becomes a crooked smile. He points at the rings in the white powder and then at the white carpet which is stained with blood.

"The pieces of glass seem to suggest that it’s a champagne bottle. And it was used with great force."

He points at the carpet.

"You see that grey stuff over there?"

Fredericsson bends down a little closer. Then he looks up at the crime scene investigator who nods in the direction of Eric. Fredericsson nods.

"It was a good blow."

"But apparently it wasn’t enough."

He looks over at the pillow.

"That was found over his face. So my guess is he was choked. Only thing I can’t say for sure is what killed him. The bottle, the drugs or the pillow."

"One thing I can say for sure is that he lied to me about his name when I met him yesterday. Twice even. And I’m sure it’s the same man."

Fredericsson makes a face.

"Even if there’s only half a face left to recognize. Could a woman have done this?"

The crime scene investigator looks at Eric and then at Fredericsson. Then he nods.

"But not a junkie."

"I’ve seen enough."

Fredericsson gets up and keeps talking.

"I’ve never been good at handling these situations. I might even dream of him tonight… If I get any sleep, that is."

The crime scene investigator gets up and gives him a friendly slap on the shoulder.

"You’re still a young man. What are you, forty?"

Fredericsson looks at him for a long time.

"But I’m feeling ready for retirement."

"Sleep will make you feel better."

"If only they’d let me. When did he die?"

"My colleague checked that. Between twelve and one this afternoon.”

"So someone wanted him to be found quickly. The call came at two thirty."

Fredericsson turns away from the body and slowly starts to walk around in the apartment.

"Did you find the bottle?"

Fredericsson looks back at the investigator who has taken off his glasses and has started cleaning them. He shakes his head.

"There’s an empty beer can in the kitchen and half a bag of chips."

He puts his glasses back on and looks at Fredericsson.

"Tells us he wasn’t very organized but not much else."

Fredericsson looks at his pointy face which almost disappears behind his big square glasses.

"No bottle except for the pieces of glass."

"You’d better get him out of here. I need to look around a little. I’ll be out of here within the next two hours."

"Two hours."

The young officer is almost tasting the words.

"Maybe sooner. Who knows?"

Fredericsson can see how disappointed the officer is and turns and walks over to the bedroom. The officer whispers to the investigator.

"I guess he’s not married."

"Right."

When Fredericsson is back on the street it’s virtually empty. The air is cool. He looks up and tries to see the stars that he knows must be there somewhere above him. 
”What’s the use. Way too much light.”
He breathes in deeply and looks around.

"Bye."

The young officer nods at him.

"I thought you said a couple of hours."

The officer looks at his watch demonstratively. Fredericsson looks at him and then down at his own watch.

"Wow! It’s one."

What he had thought would take two hours had taken eight. He looks up at the stars again.
”There’s something I’ve missed. But I’ve been over the apartment at least three times. What is it that keeps bothering me?”
He can feel someone behind him and turns around.

"That took a while."

The man with the round face is standing in front of him.

"Yes, longer than I thought."

"You don’t live here?"

"Yes, I do. In the small apartment on the corner."

Fredericsson looks more closely at him.

"Yes, it’s expensive."

He turns his head.

"I have two jobs. I clean at the bakery."

He points down the street.

"Keeps my head above water."

His smile fades a little.

"Every day?"

Now the man with the round face isn’t smiling anymore.

"Yes."

Fredericsson nods.

"Did they take him away? I had to get some sleep before I go to the bakery. My work here starts in seven hours, so I can only get a couple of hours when I get back."

"Yes."

The round face in front of him moves up and down in thoughts.

"There was a lady who came round a lot."

Fredericsson looks him in the eye.

"Maybe not a lady exactly - she’s too young. Woman is probably a better word. I’ve seen her many times in the hall. I talked to Eric Taylor about her, but he said she was OK. That she’s a friend…"

"Was a friend."

The round face looks at Fredericsson thoughtfully before going on.

"She was never there for very long. Twenty minutes at the most before she left. Sometimes not even for that long. I don’t like that sort of thing. I don’t know what’s happening."

He straightens his neck a little.

"I don’t like it."

"How long does it take to clean the bakery?"

"Three hours normally."

"I’d like you to come by the station. Then we can make a drawing of her. I’d like to talk to her… You don’t happen to know her name?"

"No. I’ve asked several times when I met her."

He puts his hands into the pockets of his sweat pants.

"I stopped her every time."

He shakes his head.

"She gave me a new name every time. I talked to Eric Taylor about it, like I said.

He stops and takes his hands out of his pockets again.

"But in the end he asked me to mind my own business. He was a little threatening."

He wipes his brow.

"I can’t lose this job. Then I can’t live here.”

He leans forward a little.

"I don’t pay so much."

Fredericsson nods slowly. The caretaker puts his hands back in his pockets and looks nervously at Fredericsson.

"It’s completely legal."

Fredericsson nods.

"Sometimes she seemed very remote and sometimes very nervous. She was a hard one to figure out. I sometimes wondered if she was on drugs."

Fredericsson shrugs and looks around the empty streets.

"Which station should I go to? I have to be back before eight."

Fredericsson looks at his watch again.

"Hmm, I can’t really make it home to sleep. I’ll sleep in my car, so come back here when you’re done and I’ll give you a ride."

The round face smiles before he turns around and walks down the street. Fredericsson follows him with his eyes until he stops down the street and unlocks the door under the green awning. With tired steps, Fredericsson walks over to his car, fantasizing about fresh bread and a cup of coffee. In his rearview mirror he sees the man disappear inside. He rubs his eyes, gets comfortable and waits for sleep to come.