'No. But the police will claim that you hit someone else in an attempt to relieve your aggression. That you happened to meet Poona and that you destroyed her. Alone in a foreign country. Small and delicate.' Friis took out his notebook and his pen. 'Let's go through that day, the 20th, from when you got up in the morning till you went to bed that night. Every hour of the day. I need a full account. Take your time, and don't leave anything out.'
'I thought this was what the police did?'
'They'll do that as well. And let me add: it is essential that the two stories add up. Do you understand me?'
'I was with Lillian,' Goran said.
Is it my fault? Linda thought. It didn't trouble her too much. They could lock up Goran, or Nudel or Mode, or anyone, she didn't care. She went to bed saying she had a bad migraine, her mum couldn't make her go to college. She lay staring at the spider in the ceiling and had practically stopped eating. She felt wonderfully light and weak, almost dreamy. Her mum got in her truck and left. She didn't know that Linda got up then and cycled to Gunwald's shop to buy the papers. They still wrote about the case, especially since Goran's arrest. But Goran had not done it. The man in the outhouse was much taller. His voice was different, too. So they would have to let him go. Perhaps he wanted to take revenge on her for what she had said about the car. But she didn't even have the strength to be afraid. She fantasised during the long hours she spent in bed. In her mind she had been kidnapped by a cruel and cynical criminal. She was kept hostage in a sinister house, while Jacob crept in through the back door with a loaded gun and freed her, risking his own life in the process. There were several variations of this fantasy. Sometimes Jacob was shot and then she would put his head in her lap and wipe the blood from his temple. Sometimes she herself was shot. Then he would call out her name over and over. Cradle her. Put his hand on her heart and call out, trying to reach her. The variations were endless and she never tired of it. She wondered if Jacob had his own gun or whether they were all kept at the station and had to be signed in and out. If it was possible to get a weapon for self-defence. You could never be too careful. And when Goran came out… She closed her eyes. Her neck ached. Her back, too, she had been lying down too long. She almost enjoyed this aching, liked being tormented by something. She lay very still and suffered for her great love.
Chapter 20
There's a way through to every human being. That's what I'm looking for, Sejer thought. The vulnerable soul hiding beyond the steely body. He couldn't go wading in. It was a case of reaching a point where Goran would invite him in himself. That would take time.
As he approached the room where Goran was waiting, he thought of Kollberg. The operation finished and coming round from the anaesthetic. He wouldn't be able to stand up yet.
Goran sat behind the table, looking tense.
'Now it's our turn,' Sejer said, smiling. He rarely smiled, but Goran was not to know that. There were bottles of Farris mineral water and Coca-Cola on the table. It was actually a nice room, with cosy lighting and comfortable chairs.
'Before we begin you need to know the following…' Sejer looked at him. 'You have the right to have someone present throughout the interrogation. Such as Friis. You have the right to rest whenever you're tired. Food and drink when you're hungry. If you want to break off the interrogation, you can leave the room at any time and return to your cell. Is what I'm saying quite clear?'
'Yes,' Goran said, surprised at all the things he was entitled to.
'Did you get on well with Friis?' Sejer asked. Friendly, Goran thought, almost paternal. Trying to build trust. He is the enemy. Breathe, he thought. One, two, three.
'I don't have much to compare with. I've never needed a lawyer before.'
'Friis is good, just so you know. You're a young man full of energy, so you'll get the best. It won't even cost you anything. Others will be picking up the bill.'
'You mean taxpayers?' Goran said with sudden irony. He forgot to breathe.
'Correct,' Sejer said. 'That's what it means to live in a democracy.'
'If this really is a democracy, then I'll be out before the day is over,' Goran said. 'Just because I had something to hide from you doesn't mean that I killed this woman.'
'Tell me what it means,' Sejer said.
Goran thought of Lillian. 'I was stupid trying to protect a married woman,' he said bitterly. 'I should have told you straightaway that I was with Lillian.'
'Lillian says you weren't,' Sejer said.
'Lillian is a cunt!' He got halfway up from the chair, but slumped down again. 'I don't understand why women won't own up to what they do in bed,' he said, exasperated. 'They get horny too. They just won't admit it.'
'It's harder for a woman,' Sejer said. 'For all sorts of reasons. Sometimes it's used against them. However, as you're a man then it's quite all right.'
He poured drinks into two glasses and pushed one towards him.
'Let it go, Goran. Let's talk about something else. We've got plenty of time. The house you live in, it's a lovely place. Have you lived there all your life?'
'Yes.'
'How was it to grow up in Elvestad?'
'Well, it's not exactly Las Vegas.' Goran smiled without meaning to. Friis had told him to answer the questions, and nothing beyond that, but chatting was easier.
'Perhaps you dreamed of being somewhere else?'
'Sometimes,' he said. 'A flat in Oslo, maybe. But the rent would eat up my wages.'
'But you're good at finding things to do. You're busy, aren't you? You've got your job and you work out a lot. You spend time with your friends. Have you always been doing that well?'
Goran was not used to being told that he was successful. Now that he thought about it, it was entirely justified. 'I've been working out since I was fifteen.'
'I do a fair bit of running myself,' Sejer told him. 'So my stamina's good. But I'm probably not very strong.'
'That's interesting,' Goran said. 'Most people live in complete ignorance of their own strength. Because they never use it. If I was to ask you: how much can you lift? I'd bet you wouldn't know.'
'You're right,' Sejer said, and smiled shamefacedly. 'I have no idea. Should I know?'
'Hell, yes! It's important to know what you're capable of.'
'You're saying that it's important to know yourself.'
'I think so. I know what I'm capable of. One hundred and fifty bench presses,' he said with ill-concealed pride.
'That doesn't mean a great deal to me, I'm sorry to say,' Sejer said. 'You could have said one hundred or two hundred. I wouldn't have known the difference.'
'Exactly. That's what I think is strange.'
Sejer made a note.
'What's that you're writing?' Goran said.
'I'm making a note of what we're talking about. You've got a handsome dog. Does it mean a lot to you?'
'I'm used to it now. I've had it for four years.'
'Then you'll have it for many years to come,' Sejer said. 'Me, I have a Leonberger. He's just had surgery for tumours on his back. I'm not sure he'll ever walk again. He looks like Bambi on ice, poor chap.'
'How old?' Goran said, interested.
'Ten. His name is Kollberg.'
'What sort of name is that?'
'Thank you,' Sejer said cheerfully. 'That's the reaction I usually get. What's yours called?'
'Cairo. You know, dark and hot.'
'Mm. Good name. Unfortunately my imagination is not as sophisticated as yours.'
Goran had now received two compliments in a short space of time, more than normally he got in a year.
