4
Ruger’s cold was no better.
“I ought to have a cognac and go to bed, but I must have a few words with you first. Have you slept well?”
Mitter shook his head.
“Have you slept at all?”
“Not a lot.”
“No, you look as if you haven’t. Have you had any tablets?
Some kind of tranquilizer?”
“No.”
“I’ll fix that for you. We mustn’t let them grind you down. I take it you don’t believe that this long wait before the trial is a coincidence?”
He paused and blew his nose.
“Ah yes, the cigarettes.”
He tossed an unopened packet onto the table. Mitter tore off the cellophane and noticed that he wasn’t in full control of his hands. The first puffs made everything go black before his eyes.
“Van Veeteren will come to interrogate you again this afternoon. I’d like to be present, but I’m afraid that won’t be possible. But my advice is to say as little as possible. I take it you know you have a right to be silent from start to finish?”
“I thought you had advised me not to do that?”
“At the trial, yes. But not when the police question you.
Just keep quiet, let them ask as many questions as they like. Or at least, just tell them that you don’t remember. Okay?”
Mitter nodded. He was starting to feel a degree of trust in Ruger, whether he liked it or not. He wondered if it was due to his lack of sleep, or the lawyer’s increasingly bad cold.
“The stupidest thing you could possibly do is to jump to conclusions, guess things, speculate, and then be forced to retract. Every single word you utter during the interrogations will be used against you at the trial. If, for example, you suggest the chief inspector ought to kiss his own ass, you can bet your life he’ll tell the jury-as an example of the kind of character you are. Would you like a cup of coffee?”
Mitter shook his head.
“Okay. I’d like to talk to you about the morning.”
“The morning?”
“Yes, when you found her. There are several points that need clarification.”
“Such as?”
“Your. . conduct after you’d phoned the police.”
“Oh?”
“You cleaned up the flat while your wife was lying dead in the bath, is that right?”
“I just tidied up a few things, that’s all.”
“Don’t you think that’s rather odd?”
“No.”
“What exactly did you do?”
“I put some glasses away, emptied an ashtray, picked up some clothes. .”
“Why?”
“I. . I don’t really know. I suppose I must have been a bit shocked. I didn’t want to go back to the bathroom, that’s for sure.”
“How long was it before the police arrived?”
“A quarter of an hour. Maybe twenty minutes.”
“Yes, that’s about right. Your phone call was recorded at 8:27, and according to the report they arrived at 8:46. Nineteen minutes. What did you do with the clothes?”
“I put them in the washing machine.”
“All of them?”
“Yes. There weren’t that many.”
“Where’s the washing machine?”
“In the kitchen.”
“And you put everything into it?”
“Yes.”
“Did you switch it on as well?”
“Yes.”
“Do you usually take care of the laundry yourself?”
“I lived alone for ten years.”
“Okay, but what about the different categories? Was the same program really appropriate for all of them? Surely there must have been different colors and materials and so on?”
“No, everything was dark colors.”
“So you used the colors program?”
“Yes.”
“What temperature?”
“A hundred degrees. Some should probably have had one-forty, but it doesn’t usually make much difference.”
There was a pause. Ruger blew his nose. Mitter lit another cigarette. His third so far. Ruger leaned back and looked up at the ceiling.
“Can’t you see that all this is damned peculiar?”
“All what?”
“You doing the washing just after finding your wife dead in the bathroom.”
“I don’t know. Maybe. .”
“Or did you set the washing machine going before you called the police?”
“No, I rang right away.”
“Immediately?”
“Yes. Well, I took a couple of tablets first. I had a blistering headache.”
“What else did you do while you were waiting for the police? Besides emptying the ashtray, rinsing some glasses, washing some clothes. .?”
“I threw some leftover food into the bin. Tidied up a bit in the kitchen. .”
“You didn’t water the flowers?”
“No.”
“You didn’t clean the windows?”
Mitter closed his eyes. That trust in Ruger was on hold now, he could feel that clearly. Perhaps it had only been due to the cigarettes. The one he was smoking now tasted anything but pleasant. He stubbed it out in annoyance.
“Have you ever found your wife dead in the bath, Mr.
Ruger? Even if not, perhaps you could inform me how one ought to behave while waiting for the police; it could be interesting to know. . ”
Ruger had fished out his handkerchief again, but paused.
“Can’t you understand, for Christ’s sake?”
“Understand what?”
“That your behavior was highly suspicious, dammit. Surely you can understand how it will be interpreted. For God’s sake!
Washing up glasses, washing clothes! Talk about removing evidence. .!”
“You are assuming that I killed her, I gather.”
