minutes he had taken note of most of the details. A notepad and pen lying on the kitchen table. Three bottles of bleach on the counter. Two black bin bags against the wall. As if she had been cleaning up. As if she were getting ready to leave.
'What did you want when you came to my office?' he said sharply. 'What did you want when you called?'
At that instant he felt his stomach lurch.
Something about this woman made him nervous. She rolled her eyes. 'Called? It would never occur to me.' Suddenly she lost her composure. She looked at him, her heavy body trembled. 'I don't have long to live,' she said.
There he saw the flame again, in her eyes. The words struck him like a blow. Her face didn't expect an answer; it was a statement. Bewildered, he stood there looking into her eyes. How should he handle this? What could he do? Nothing. Just leave and report to Sejer. The blue walls of the kitchen closed around him, together with this person, and now they seemed to be getting closer, and the room getting smaller, and everything outside became distant and indistinct. The view through the kitchen window, the pretty gazebo and the big birch tree, it was all just a picture. Outside these blue walls there was nothing.
'So the evening started at a bar,' Sejer said. 'Did you go there to calm your nerves?'
'Don't know what you're talking about,' Zipp said.
They had called him in for the second time. Did that mean they had found something out? Was it about the theft of the handbag? This is wearing me out, he thought, standing so long on the edge of a precipice. I'd rather fall off.
'Be good enough to tell me again when you met.'
'As I said, at 7.30.'
Sejer tapped his pen on the desk. The tapping sound made Zipp stare at him alertly.
'There's something I don't understand,' Sejer said. 'I don't understand why you're lying about this.'
'I'm not lying.'
'You met much earlier than that. Something happened.'
'We met at 7.30!'
'No. Andreas left his house at 5.30. You drove around town.'
Zipp thought so hard it hurt. Who had seen them, other than that woman at Furulund? Was the moment coming when he would be confronted with the dead baby? For short periods he'd managed to forget about it. Those periods held promise for the future: one day the memory would be erased, as something unreal.
'In that case, somebody's pulling your wick,' he said sullenly.
Sejer put down his pen. 'You stopped someone and asked for directions.'
'Huh?'
'A little boy. Perhaps you thought you'd have some fun with him.' Sejer was looking down at his own hands. 'Perhaps you just wanted to frighten him.'
Zipp was so relieved that he almost felt like laughing.
'Oh, that's right. Of course. A little black kid. We weren't trying to give him a hard time. And we met him on the way to the bar. A bit before 8.00, I should think.'
'That little black kid,' Sejer said, 'is my grandson, so don't give me any crap about not giving him a hard time. He was wearing a watch, and you were driving a green car. Andreas commented on his jacket. It was 6.15.'
Sejer's voice had taken on a threatening undertone.
'Your grandson?' Zipp damn near hiccupped with astonishment. At that moment it actually seemed possible, he thought, that the chief inspector might reach out and punch him. And what did he know about police methods? Shit, this was getting serious!
'Is Andreas in love with you?' Sejer said. Zipp felt dizzy. Who had they been talking to? No-one knew that, certainly not that black kid. Was the word out around town?
'Sorry,' he croaked, still trying to follow this man's whims. 'But I think you misunderstand.'
'Sometimes that happens. In which case, I apologise. Is Andreas homosexual?'
Zipp thought he might be able to use this. It might send him off on the wrong track. Keep his thoughts away from other things.
'Yes,' he said meekly. 'At least, I think so.'
'Why do you think so? Has he ever made a pass at you?'
'No! He's not stupid.'
'We all have our weak moments. Do you think it was difficult?'
'I don't know what you're talking about.'
'Maybe you couldn't stand the thought that he was keen on you? Were you furious?'
'Just surprised,' he muttered eventually.
'Did you hit him? A little too hard?' At last Zipp began to see where he was heading.
'No,' he murmured. 'I wanted to, but I didn't.'
'So you're taking your revenge in a different way. You're withholding information. Are you trying to save your own skin?'
No answer.
'My dear Zipp.' Sejer lowered his voice to a whisper. 'How are you going to get yourself out of this?'
'Out of what?'
'Whatever it is you've got yourself mixed up in. Would it be to your benefit if Andreas never turned up again?'
'No, God damn it!'
'I'm looking for a reason,' Sejer said. 'A reason why you won't tell the truth. As I said the last time, it had better be awfully good. Is it?'
Zipp wrung his hands. 'Yes,' he gasped. 'It is. And I'm not going to say anything else! I want to go home! You've no right to keep me here.'
'Like most departments, we have a little loophole.' Zipp stared at him doubtfully.
'The time between 6 p.m. and when you went to the bar. How did you spend that time?'
'In the car. Cruising around. Looking at girls.'
'What happened?'
'Nothing.'
'Then why did you hide the fact?'
'I don't remember.'
And that's how things went on. Zipp was amazed at his own stubbornness. That he had so much willpower. That he could almost drive a man crazy, he would never have believed it. But the inspector had willpower too. They tugged and tugged, each at their own end of an invisible rope. Zipp alternated between sighing with exhaustion and inexplicably having the upper hand again. For the first time in his life he was fighting with someone. A sheer battle of wills. And it was strange, all the emotions that came and went. At times he even enjoyed it. Liked the man on the other side of the desk.
Now it was simply a matter of time. Soon the police would be at the door. I saw it in the young officer's face, he could smell something was going on in the house. His eyes, which raced around, taking everything in, were full of purpose. It was nice and warm in the cellar. I stood still and looked at Andreas. He really didn't lack for anything. I had taken good care of him. A thought occurred to me like a box on the ear: He would never have done the same for me.
'I'm leaving now,' I whispered.
He tried to focus his eyes on something. It required a certain amount of effort. His gaze settled on the light bulb hanging from the ceiling.
'They'll soon be coming to get you, they were just here. The police. I'll leave the door unlocked. Are you listening to me?'
He closed his eyes. Didn't say anything. Wasn't even happy.
'After all that you've done!' I said, resigned. I squatted down on the steps. 'Can't you explain who you are?
