of the police. He looked at his watch. In half an hour it would be time for the radio news. He would stop to hear what they had discovered so far. He moved along as fast as he could while thirst ravaged his mouth and throat. He had sense enough not to drink his whisky yet. Crazy people could be dangerous. This man wasn't in particularly good physical condition, but insanity and a lack of inhibitions might give him tremendous strength. Maybe it would be safer to keep his distance and not provoke him too much. They weren't enemies, after all. He had taken Errki with him on sheer impulse. Rushing out of the bank with him was like holding a thick shield in front of him. Relax, he told himself. He just has a rather bizarre way of talking. Remember the year you worked in the asylum, how scared they all were?
Errki stopped and started patting his jacket pockets, first one and then the other. He stuck his hand in his trouser pockets, turned around and stared down at the grass.
'What's wrong?' Morgan looked at him. 'Did you lose something? Besides your mind, I mean?'
Errki patted all of his pockets again, one after the other.
'You can bum a cigarette from me if that's what you're looking for.'
'The bottle,' Errki mumbled, looking around.
'What bottle?'
'The pills.'
'You take pills? Where did you lose them?'
Errki didn't reply. In his mind he raced back down through the woods, while he rocked his head back and forth several times.
'Do you take those anti-psychotic drugs? Well, OK, you've lost them. Now you'll have to make do without. You're not going to go berserk because of this, are you?'
Berserk. Nestor was making that humming sound again, like electricity passing through a cable. He doesn't understand the meaning of the word. Errki started walking.
'Chemicals like that are nothing but shit anyway,' Morgan muttered as he pondered the problem and what the consequences might be. 'They just keep you down. I'll give you a shot of whisky instead,' he decided.
Errki stopped again. Fixed his eyes on Morgan.
'My name is Errki.'
'Errki?'
'I'm just here on a visit. If you can't chop off the hand, then you'd better kiss it.'
He started walking. Morgan was still standing in the heather, staring after him. It occurred to him that he, who was supposed to be the guard, was trotting after his prisoner like a dog. Errki was strong, and much faster and lighter on his feet than he was. The roles were reversed. Here he was trailing behind like an old woman. Nobody knew where they were, nobody was going to come to his rescue if anything happened. He clutched the gun tighter. A shot in the thigh would be sufficient. As soon as it was dark, he would continue on alone. Maybe he would tie Errki up to give himself a head start. The guy was repulsive, and yet there was something about him that was also fascinating. His eyes. His peculiar remarks. The air of sobriety that surrounded him, as if he came from another world. Maybe Errki was brilliant, even a genius. He had heard once that it was the people with the sharpest minds who went right off the deep end.
Morgan woke up to the fact that the distance between them had grown considerably. He raced to catch up, feeling uneasy. Where exactly were they going? How was this going to end?
'We've got to stop now. It's news time!'
His voice was louder than necessary, as if he were emphasising his own position, as if he had begun to have his doubts about it, and that scared him. Errki kept going. Rolling and striding along, completely ignoring him.
'Hey! Errki!'
The drum slammed and rattled several times. Errki stopped and turned around. The man behind him was shaking with anger. There's nothing as pathetic as a man who has lost his grip, he thought.
'You don't have to act up every damned time I give you an order. I'm the one in charge here.'
Wrong. He's the one with the gun. Errki pressed his lips together.
'Sit down. It's time for the news. I want to hear how much they know.'
They were almost at the top of a wide ridge. Beyond it was another ridge that was a muted green and infinitely far away in the haze. Morgan fumbled around in the bag for the radio, and spent a moment fiddling with the antenna. Errki lay down on his back in the heather and closed his eyes.
'You look like a ghost lying there.'
Morgan tried to pull himself together. He studied Errki with genuine astonishment. 'How do you manage to stay so pale when the sun is this bright?' He chuckled. 'I guess you live in a different world, and it's damned dark in there, isn't it?'
He found a local station, and drummed his fingers impatiently while the last strains of a military band died out.
'And now for the news.' A piece of paper rustled. 'A man in his early twenties made off with almost a hundred thousand kroner after he robbed the Fokus Bank this morning. The robbery took place soon after the bank opened, and the robber took a customer hostage as he left the scene. A shot was fired, but no-one was hurt. So far there is no trace of the robber or the hostage, although the police have a good description of the offender.'
Morgan frowned. 'A good description?'
'They left the city in a small white car, but police roadblocks have failed to apprehend them.'
'What are they talking about? I didn't take off my mask until we were out of sight!'
He put the radio down in the grass. 'They're bluffing!'
Annoyed, he took his tobacco pouch out of his pocket and rolled a cigarette. Errki was listening to a fly buzzing persistently in front of him.
'The police still do not have any real leads in the death of 76-year-old Halldis Horn who was found murdered yesterday morning. The woman was discovered at her home, brutally killed with a sharp object. The woman's wallet had been taken. Her mutilated body was found by a boy playing in the area.'
Morgan's eyes took on a remote look.
'Now there's an example of what I mean by a real crime. Do you see the difference? Nobody's going to miss the money I took. The bank has insurance. No-one got hurt, and the car doesn't have a scratch on it. Then you have people who murder for the sake of a lousy wallet.'
Errki was still listening to the fly. He was convinced that it was trying to get at him; all the buzzing must have a purpose. It was annoying how much the clown Morgan talked. He didn't understand the meaning of a word, of holding on to it, saving it for an important moment.
'And an old woman! I don't understand things like that. It must have been a real maniac.' He glanced over at Errki. 'Are you good at making a shelter out of branches, by the way? Used to be a Boy Scout, maybe?'
Errki opened one eye and stared at him. Morgan was reminded of a lamp behind a thin curtain, giving off a dim light.
'We need to find water, at any rate. You don't know of a stream do you? Or a lake?'
Nestor was rocking back and forth, squatting, as usual, with his chin resting on his knees. Errki was always impressed by this position; he could sit that way for hours without getting tired. The Coat, which couldn't stand up straight or even sit down because it had nothing inside except for foolish remarks, waved the flap of its pocket. Just to show that it was still there and intended once or twice to stay until someone hauled it away.
'Do you like whisky? Long John Silver, room temperature.'
Morgan took another drag on his cigarette and stared straight ahead, scratching his calf because there was a twig or insect annoying him. Slapping at insects made him sweat, and for a moment he cast a suspicious glance at the man lying beside him in the grass.
'How can you lie still like that?' he grumbled. 'You've got a whole battalion of flies just above your nose.'
He ground out his cigarette end in the grass, stood up abruptly and went over to Errki. Bent down, grabbed hold of his shoulder hard, and gave him a shake.
Errki flinched. 'Don't touch me!'
'So you don't like it when I grab you, huh? Afraid of being infected or something? People like you are always scared of bacteria and germs, isn't that right? But there's nothing wrong with me. I took a shower yesterday, which is more than can be said for you.'
A gust of wind made the Coat flutter and roll across the floor. Errki gave a start and raised his hands.
