When The Devil Holds The Candle

'But he didn't go home to bed,' Sejer said, smiling. A new kind of smile: broad and open. Zipp had to smile at his own stupidity. But it was entirely innocent, it had just slipped out, apparently to his advantage, judging by the man's response.

'No, of course not. But that's what he said.'

'Exactly. He had to get up early?'

'At 8.00.'

Sejer drank some coffee. 'What film did you watch?'

Did that make any difference? Did he think they watched a film that might have steered them into trouble?

'Blade Runner' he mumbled, a bit reluctantly because he didn't want to show any kind of enthusiasm. Sejer noticed his slight irritation.

'I saw that one a long time ago,' he said. 'I didn't much like it. But then, as I said, I'm oldfashioned.' Zipp relaxed. 'Andreas insisted on watching it. Even though he's seen it hundreds of times. Or something like that.'

'Is that right? Hundreds of times? Were you bored?'

'I'm often bored.'

'Why's that?'

'I don't have a job.'

'So you wait all day for Andreas, until you can have some company?'

'He usually calls after dinner.'

'Did you make any arrangements to meet again when you said goodbye?'

'No, we didn't have . . .'

He checked himself. The words had come pouring out of him. I don't remember, I don't remember. He was floating away like a scrap of paper on the rushing stream that was this man.

'You didn't have what?'

'He met someone.' The words just popped out.

'Ah! He met someone?'

Zipp didn't look up, but if he had, he would have seen Sejer's wry smile.

'Who, Zipp?'

'I didn't know them.'

He stifled a silent curse. Who the hell had put that reply into his mouth? Now he would be asked why he hadn't told this to the other officer when he came to his house. Okay, so he'd forgotten about it. That wasn't so bad. This man would have to prove he was lying. It wasn't enough that the air was thick with lies. Though it was.

'Excellent that you remembered that,' said Sejer with satisfaction. 'That's what I always say. Things come back to you more clearly over time. And you're in a difficult situation, after all. Your best friend is missing, and you're worried about him.' In his mind Zipp pictured Andreas trapped somewhere. Alone in the dark. That white house. He didn't understand it. A lump was forming in his throat and tears came to his eyes. But maybe that was to his advantage. Showing how worried he was.

'Two guys,' he said, with his eyes lowered.

'They came over to us in the square.'

'Two men?'

'Yes.'

'Young men?'

'Older than us. Thirty, maybe.'

'Have you ever seen them before?'

'No.'

'But Andreas knew them?'

'It looked like it.'

A long pause. Way too long. Either he was

thinking over this information, this utter lie, or he was amused by these wild fantasies. What if Andreas showed up and told his own version? Am I assuming that he's never going to show up? Have I written him off? No, I'm a good friend!

'All right. Tell me more.'

'Tell you what?'

He was on thin ice now, suspended precariously over the cold deep. Images flew past his eyes: Andreas' burning cheeks, the baby with the toothless gums.

'We sat on a bench. They were standing near the fountain. Andreas said he had to take off. And then they left. I don't know where they went. I was actually a bit pissed off.'

Then Zipp shut up. His coffee cup was still untouched. He would have taken a sip, but he didn't trust his hands. Sejer had no such problem. He took sip after sip, without making a sound. Zipp's last words hung in the room: 'I was actually a bit pissed off.' He had made it up, but there was truth in the lie. If that had really happened, if they had been sitting on the bench and Andreas had suddenly taken off, he really would have been irritated. He reached this conclusion with a certain pride.

'But Andreas – didn't he spend all his time with you?

Zipp squirmed. 'I thought so.'

'Thornegata,' said Sejer suddenly. Zipp glanced up.

'You mentioned to Andreas' mother when she called that you said goodbye to each other on Thornegata.'

'I don't remember,' he said swiftly.

'I mention it because there must be some reason why you would have thought of that particular street. You remembered wrong, of course, we've already ascertained that, but for some reason your brain still made that choice. Maybe you were in the vicinity of Thornegata sometime that evening?' Zipp felt bewildered.

'It just slipped out. A short circuit,' he said.

'It happens,' Sejer conceded.

He got up and opened the window. The September air swept in.

'What do you think has happened?' Sejer said. He was sitting down now.

'Shit. I have no idea.'

'But you must have some thoughts about it.'

'Yes.'

'Could you tell me?'

He thought hard. It occurred to him that what had started as 'just a conversation' now felt very much like an interrogation.

'I've thought of everything!' he said with a sudden, fierce sincerity. 'That he went off and hanged himself. Anything at all.'

'Is that something he might do?'

'No. Or rather, I don't know.' He thought about the cemetery. 'I don't know,' he repeated.

'Was there something bothering him?'

'He never said so.'

'Did he talk much about himself?'

'Never.'

Sejer went over to a green filing cabinet, took out some papers and leafed through them. Zipp craned his neck, but he was sitting too far away to see. Sejer took out something from a folder and pushed it across the desk towards Zipp.

'What do you say, Zipp?' he said solemnly. His eyes were piercing. 'Is he still alive?' Zipp stared at the photograph of Andreas. 'I just don't know!' he stammered.

'Is there any reason to assume that he might be dead?'

'I don't know!' he stammered again. He had a horrible feeling that he had fallen into a trap. 'Do you think he's dead?' he said flatly.

Sejer propped the picture up against the coffee pot.