In the Darkness (26 page)

Suddenly Eva realised how tired she was. She could hardly lift her legs and kept tripping over heather and tussocks. The tin weighed a ton in her weary hand, but there were no pockets in the down snowsuit, and she didn’t want to put the money in with her dirty clothes in the daysack.
It
might get tainted with the smell, you could never tell. Now she was out on the road the walking was easier. She went as fast as she could, but her legs didn’t seem to be able to keep up with her. She felt her heels come down, but not the push from the flat of her foot, that part was numb. The plateau lay before her completely deserted; she looked for the cabin that had had the light in it, but it was dark now. The thought of the long car journey ahead almost demoralised her, but if she’d got this far, she’d manage to get home again as well, and maybe she’d find an open service station along the way. Somewhere they sold sausages and hamburgers, Coke and chocolate, or perhaps those Danish pastries in packets of two. And hot coffee. She was terribly hungry. Now that she’d begun to think about food she couldn’t stop. Even if she did find somewhere, it was hard to know what people might think if she was to enter the place stinking to high heaven. Presumably the smell was stronger than she realised herself, she’d simply become accustomed to it. And now she could make out the little road down to the lake, she moved the tin over to her left hand and held the torch in her right. Everything seemed empty and deserted, but she wouldn’t switch it on until she was down by the car and ready to go. The less visible she was the better. Never before had she longed for her own car and a cigarette so much. She’d refrained from smoking, didn’t want to leave butts around. She sniffed a little out of pure emotion at all the things that had happened and increased her speed.

She had only a few metres to go when something brought her up short. A tremendous roar split the silence and suddenly she found herself bathed in a flood of halogen light. She stood paralysed with her tin and torch and for a moment she couldn’t move her feet. Then she
recognised
the light and sound as a car starting up right in front of her, and she ran out of the beam, out into the heather and tussocks of grass. She ran for her life, clutching the paint tin tightly. She could still hear the engine, and as long as she heard it she would continue running, if it stopped she’d have to get down. But she didn’t get that far. All at once she tripped and fell forward, full length on to her stomach, she twisted one foot and felt twigs and straws scratching at her face. She lay quite still. The engine died too, and a car door opened. She understood now. He’d found her car, he’d sat there waiting for her. It’s all over, she thought. Perhaps he had a gun. Perhaps a bullet in the back of the head would be the last episode in her life. Money didn’t mean that much, she marvelled suddenly at all the exertions she’d undergone just for money. It was really quite amazing. The only things that really mattered were Emma, and her father. That you had a bit of bread, and a bit of light and warmth. She thought all this as she heard his movements through the heather, but she couldn’t tell if he was getting closer, or going in the wrong direction.

She rested her head on one arm and just wanted to sleep, the money wasn’t to be hers after all, that was why it had all gone wrong, and she didn’t give a damn about money. But then she pulled herself together again, she thought of Emma, how she had to get away from this man who was tearing through the heather. She began to crawl on her stomach, sliding cautiously away in the smooth down suit. She could still hear his footsteps and, as long as he was moving, he couldn’t hear her. She crawled a little way then stopped, crawled and stopped, and kept on like this. He was still some distance away, the plateau was large and he had no torch with him. Talk about being
ill
-prepared, she thought, as she struggled to drag the tin along without making too much noise. Then she heard his car start up again, and saw the headlights sweeping across the landscape. She ducked and flattened herself as much as she could. It was lucky that her hair was dark and the suit was navy blue, but the tin was almost white. She had to cover it with her body or it would be visible as a bright spot. It was ridiculous of her to have lugged this big tin along, he’d certainly have seen it. Soon he’d come crashing through the heather in his car and catch her in his headlights. Perhaps he’d just run her down, run over her with all four wheels, and nobody would be able to work out what had happened. Why she was lying there; killed by a car high up in the mountains, in an undersized down snowsuit. Smelling of sewage. No one would ever know. And maybe, she thought, maybe Maja’s killer would go free.

The man shook his head and accelerated. He was certain he’d seen something in the darkness, something white which seemed to fly through the air. He scanned the sides of the road as he drove slowly up it, but the headlights left the mountain landscape around him in complete darkness. It must have been something he’d imagined. A sheep perhaps. They probably weren’t grazing up here any more, but perhaps there were birds up here, and foxes and hares. There were lots of explanations. It had taken him a little by surprise as he’d just bent forward to stub out his cigarette. But it was odd about the car. Unless there’d been someone staying in that small cabin after all. He hadn’t got time to think about it any more. There were many things that had to be cleared up. He was going to get the money. It was his now, and no one should think otherwise.
He
accelerated and turned on to the road. There he changed up into third and shortly afterwards passed the tourist hostel on the left. Then his lights vanished round a bend.

Chapter 27

THE BLOBS OF
foam were like the mountains of Hardanger and the water was boiling hot. Eva dipped one foot in cautiously, it was almost scalded, but the bath couldn’t be hot enough. She would have liked the water inside her body too, inside her veins. On the edge of the tub was a large glass of red wine. She’d thrown the daysack into the rubbish bin and unplugged the phone. Now, she sank into the water which had turned a pale turquoise colour from the bath salts. Heaven couldn’t be better than this. As they thawed, she stretched her fingers and toes. She took a sip of wine and felt the pain in her foot recede a little. Driving had been a nightmare, as her ankle had swollen considerably. She pinched her nose and submerged completely for a moment. When she surfaced again she had a large dot of foam on the top of her head. That’s the picture of a millionaire, she thought with surprise, as she looked at her reflection in the mirror above the bath. The soft blob began to teeter sideways, then slide down to hang beneath her ear. She settled in the water again and did some mental arithmetic. She tried to work out how long the money would last if she used two hundred thousand per year. Well, it would be around ten years. If
there
really
was
two million there, she hadn’t counted it yet, but she would once she’d bathed and cleaned up and had some food. The only thing she’d found on the way home was a sweet dispenser that contained nothing but raspberry drops and throat lozenges. She closed her eyes and heard how the foam rustled in her ear as it disintegrated. Her skin was beginning to accustom itself to the temperature; afterwards she’d be wrinkled and pink from the hot soapy water, like a baby. It had been a long time since she’d taken a bath. She usually made do with a quick shower, and she’d forgotten just how good it was. Emma was the one who always liked a bath.

She reached out for her wine glass and took several large sips. Afterwards, when she’d bathed and counted the money, she would sleep, perhaps right through until it was evening again. The tiredness lay across her eyes like a lump of lead. Now it pulled her head forward until her chin rested on her chest. The last thing she knew was the taste of soap in her mouth.

It was nine o’clock on the morning of 3 October. Eva slept on in the cold bath water. She was in the middle of a disturbing dream. As she squirmed in the water to escape it, she slipped forward a little in the bath. Her face submerged. She gasped and inhaled soapy water, coughed and spluttered, attempted to sit up, but the sides of the ceramic tub were slippery; she slid down again, spat and dribbled until the tears flowed, before she finally managed to get herself into a sitting position. She was cold again. Then she heard the doorbell.

Alarmed, she got up and stepped out of the bath. She’d forgotten her injured foot and yelped, staggered a bit because she’d risen so quickly and reached for her dressing gown.
Her
watch was on the shelf under the mirror, she looked at it quickly and wondered who it could possibly be at this time of day. It was too early for salesmen and beggars, her father didn’t go out and Emma hadn’t given notice of her arrival. The police! she thought, and tied the belt of the dressing gown. She hadn’t prepared herself, hadn’t had time to think about what she’d say if he actually came again, and now he was here, she was quite certain it was him. That inspector with the searching glance. Of course, she didn’t have to open the door. She was the mistress of her own house, she was in the middle of a bath and it was an ungodly hour to come asking questions. She only had to remain in the bathroom until he went. He would think she hadn’t got up yet, or perhaps that she’d gone away. Except that the car was outside, but she might have taken the bus, as she sometimes did when she had no money for petrol. What did he want now? At least he knew nothing about Maja’s money, unless she’d left a will which he’d found, perhaps that was precisely what she had done, left all her money to the Women’s Refuge! The thought made her reel. Of course she could. She hadn’t put her money in a safe-deposit box, she had put her will in there instead, a small red book containing the truth about her life. The doorbell rang again. Eva came to a swift decision. There was little point in hiding in the bathroom, he wasn’t going to give up. She made a turban out of her towel, went out into the hall in her bare feet, limping and gasping at each step.

‘Mrs Magnus,’ he said smiling, ‘I’m disturbing you in the middle of your bath, it’s unforgivable of me. I should have come later.’

‘I’ve finished anyway,’ she answered tersely, standing on the doorstep. He was wearing a leather jacket and jeans and looked like a normal man, not like the enemy at all,
she
thought. The man by the lake was the enemy, whoever he might be. Perhaps he’d taken the number of her car. She almost had a fit at the thought of it. If so, it wouldn’t be long before he turned up at her door. She hadn’t considered that. A deep furrow appeared in her brow.

‘May I come in for a moment?’

She said nothing, just backed against the wall and nodded. In the living room she nodded again at the sofa; she just stood there, stood there like a wall of resistance, he thought, as he seated himself with a studied calm on her black sofa. His trained eye made an almost imperceptible sweep of the black and white room, he noted the bag of raspberry drops on the table, the car keys, her handbag, open, a packet of cigarettes.

‘Hurt your foot?’ he asked abruptly.

‘Only twisted it a bit. Was there anything in particular?’ Reluctantly she sat down in the chair facing him.

‘Just a few things. I’d like to go through the statement you made last time, from start to finish. There are some details I need more information about.’

Eva was nervous. She fumbled for a cigarette straight away and wondered suddenly if she could refuse to answer. She wasn’t suspected of anything after all. Or was she? ‘Tell me,’ she said in a cocky tone, ‘am I actually obliged to make a statement about this?’

Sejer stared open-mouthed. ‘No,’ he said in surprise, ‘certainly not!’ His eyes, grey in reality, took on an innocent blue tint. ‘But does that mean you’ve got something against making one? I thought, as she was your friend, that you’d be only too willing. So that we can find the perpetrator. But if you’ve got objections …’

‘No, no, I didn’t mean it like that.’ She recoiled quickly, regretting her question.

‘The first of October,’ he went on, ‘Thursday. Let’s begin at the beginning. You took a taxi to Tordenskioldsgate. The taxi got here at 6 p.m.?’

‘Yes, as I said.’

‘From what you told me, you spent roughly an hour at Ms Durban’s flat.’

‘Yes, I must have done. Not much longer anyway.’ How long had it really been, she thought – two hours?

He’d opened a notebook and was reading from it. It was horrible. Everything she’d said was written down, now he could use it against her. ‘Can you tell me what you did during that hour? In as much detail as you can?’

‘What?’ She stared uneasily at him.

‘From the time you entered the flat until she closed the door behind you. Absolutely everything that happened. Just begin at the beginning.’

‘Well, er, I had a cup of coffee.’

‘Did you wash it up afterwards?’

‘Uh?’ She felt her head begin to spin.

‘I ask because there was no used coffee cup found. But there was a glass which had obviously contained Coke.’

‘Oh yes! Of course! Coke. I’m getting mixed up. Does that
really
matter?’

He gave her a sharp look. And she fell silent again just like the last time. Eva sat staring and waiting, she knew she was sinking in deeper and deeper, there were so many things she hadn’t thought of, far too many.

‘Yes, I had a sandwich and a Coke. Maja made me a sandwich.’

‘Yes. A tuna sandwich?’

Eva shook her head in wonder. She couldn’t keep up any more, maybe he’d been there when it happened, she thought, maybe he’d been hiding in a cupboard and seen everything.

‘Can you tell me,’ he asked all at once, as he changed position on the sofa, he was looking thoughtful and inquisitive, ‘can you tell me why you vomited that sandwich up again?’

Eva felt like passing out. ‘Well, I felt ill,’ she stammered. ‘I’d had a couple of beers, and fish doesn’t really agree with me all that much. We’d had such a late night the evening before. And I hadn’t eaten much, I’m not that bothered about food, so I hadn’t eaten anything, and she absolutely insisted I had it, she thought I was thin.’ She stopped and drew breath. What was that about saying as little as possible, why couldn’t she remember!