'Tell me about some of your girlfriends,' Sejer said. He was still smiling, a big trustworthy smile as wide as an ocean.
Goran squirmed. 'Don't have girlfriends,' he said. 'I'm with a woman or I'm not.'
'I see,' Sejer said. 'You're with women. But you're not fond of them.'
'I suppose I like some of them better than others,' he said reluctantly.
'Was Ulla one of them?'
Silence. Goran drank his Coke and caught himself checking the clock. Five minutes had passed.
'How many girls are we talking about?' Sejer looked at Goran. His skin was smooth and pale, his neck muscular from years of weightlifting, his fists were powerful with short fingers.
Goran counted in his head. 'Let's say twelve to fifteen.'
'In how many cases did the girl end the relationship?'
'Hell, never,' Goran said, 'it's always me. I get bored easily,' he said. 'Girls get upset over nothing. There's so much fuss with them.'
'Yes. Absolutely. We can agree that they're different. But if they weren't, it wouldn't be any fun chasing them.'
'No, ha-ha. You're right about that.' Goran chuckled good-humouredly to himself.
'And Ulla?' Sejer said, cautiously.
Goran scratched his head. 'Ulla is attractive. Fit. The only thing that sags on her is her head from time to time.'
'So it was tough when she broke up with you? When you're used to being the one who ends it?'
'The thing is,' Goran said, 'that she changes her mind like a kid. She's always breaking up.'
'Do you think she'll come back to you?'
'I expect so,' he said. For a moment he looked straight at Sejer. 'And that moron who identified my car, she couldn't tell the difference between a bus and a truck. That Linda's not all there. It's crap that you take that stuff seriously.'
'Let's take it easy. We're in no hurry.'
Goran bit his lip. 'You should be out there looking for the bastard who actually did this. You're wasting your time with me here. I hope you've ensured that there are others still looking for him, otherwise I can tell you that you're squandering taxpayers' money in a big way.'
Sejer leaned back in his chair.
'Did you like school? You went to school in Elvestad.'
'Yes. I liked it.'
'The teachers too?'
'Some of them. The one who taught woodwork. And the PE teacher.'
'Yes,' Sejer said. 'You work for a carpenter. What do you do there?'
'I'm an apprentice. Make everything from shelves to flower boxes. To order.'
'Do you like it?'
'The boss's all right. Yes, it's fine.'
'And there's a pretty nice smell in the workshop, am I right?'
Goran nodded. 'Yes. There's a good smell of wood. And they don't all smell the same. You learn that after a while.'
Time passed. The men talked. Goran's shoulders relaxed. He smiled more often. Helped himself to Coke. Asked Sejer if he was going to get himself a new dog if it turned out to be bad news about what's-his-name again? Kollberg. A ridiculous name for an animal!
'I don't know yet,' Sejer said, expressing both exaggerated and genuine sadness at the same time.
He made notes all the time. Did Goran have any good advice to give when it came to training dogs? I haven't been very lucky with mine, he admitted. Somewhat embarrassed by this admission, he looked at the master like a guilty schoolboy. Oh well, Goran had that totally under control and, warming to his subject, talked about Cairo, who obeyed his every command. 'But if you don't have an obedient dog, it could be that you never really wanted one.'
'That was a very insightful comment,' Sejer said. And Goran received his third compliment. Two hours flew by. Sejer wrote up his notes.
'Read this through carefully. You have to sign it, agreeing that this was the conversation we have had. You need to do this every time we've talked. That way it's you who decides what it should say here.'
Goran nodded, read the statement and signed it. Sejer got up and stood next to him.
'Hell,' Goran smiled, looking up from his chair; despite all his strength he felt small next to Sejer. 'You're nearly two metres tall!'
He was led back to his cell. No-one had mentioned the murder. He didn't understand that. However, it was lunchtime now. Bacon and eggs. While he ate, he thought about Sejer. It was really very sad about his dog.
'Hello, Marie,' Gunder said. He pulled the chair over to her bed. She had been disconnected from the respirator and was breathing on her own, but she had not regained consciousness. He was alarmed by the unaccustomed quiet in the room. She was breathing, but not as regularly as with the machine. It made him nervous and he wanted to help her.
'Today I was looking at that photograph of you and Karsten. From your wedding. How you've changed. Your face has lost its shape. The doctor says it's because you aren't using your muscles. And it won't help if I say something funny, you won't laugh anyway. I can't bear to think about the future, and that really worries me. Poona would have been getting to know Elvestad and the house and the garden by now. She would have learned to use the washing machine and the microwave and the video recorder. We would have sat together on the sofa watching Indian films. They make a lot of films in India. Love stories with tough heroes and beautiful women. Not the gritty real-life films we make about ordinary people. They dream a lot, Indian people. They have to. They are so poor.
'Do you know what? I've had several letters. From foreign women. Russian and Philippine, and they are offering themselves. They say they feel sorry for me. Would you believe it? Poona's not even buried yet. I don't know what to think.
'They are questioning Goran now. He's denying everything. What else would you expect? Either he did it or he didn't, so he'll never own up to it. It is hard to understand why a young man with his life in front of him would go and do something like this. It said in the paper that he's been remanded in custody for four weeks. I think about his parents a great deal. They're ordinary, hard-working people. Did everything they could for him, I hear. They've had their worries about him and hopes too. Now evidence will have to be found. Evidence beyond reasonable doubt that Goran is the guilty one. Sometimes I think about what it must have been like for Poona. When she stood there waiting at the airport. When she travelled alone with a strange man right to her death. What about the taxi driver, by the way? What if he did it? And all this because you crashed your car. I'm not blaming you, Marie, but you were never a good driver. Maybe you never should have driven at all.
'I've been thinking of the winter of '59, when we had so much snow. You and Kristine were playing behind the house. I could see you through the window. I had measles and had to stay indoors. You were so overexcited and screaming and giggling, I could hear you all the way to the living room. The weather was mild and you did the most awful things in that wet snow. Do you remember? I daren't say it aloud even if you can't hear me. I said nothing to Mum. She would have had a fit. People do so many strange things, Marie. I'm still thinking about Poona's brother. He's sent me a pretty photograph of her. It's bigger than the one I took and I've bought a fine frame for it. I've promised to get in touch with Shiraz when the date for the funeral has been set. But I don't suppose he'll come back. Possibly he thinks it's a sin to bury her in our consecrated earth. Consecrated earth, now what is that? Earth is earth, surely. I've spoken to Pastor Berg. I gave him something to think about, I can tell you. Has her brother really approved this, he kept fussing. Are you quite sure? We can't risk there being any repercussions. And a Hindu, too. I can't mention that in church, Jomann, I hope you understand. He's nice, the vicar, but terrified of getting into trouble. Nevertheless, I was given permission to play Indian music at the start of the service. Have to look for some in town. Mode has some CDs at the petrol station, but I don't suppose he'll have what I'm looking for. I do hope Karsten will come, but I'm not sure he will. Do you know what? In some ways I think it's a miracle you're still alive. When your body isn't able to feed itself. I don't think you ought to drive again. You can call me if you're going somewhere, I'll take you. Karsten is always so busy. But we can talk about that later. When you wake up.'
