Reilly had imagined Hanna Wigert to be a big, sturdy woman. There was something about her name that proclaimed a full bust and broad shoulders. However, Hanna Wigert was small and composed with an impressive mane of red, curly hair. Reilly was aware that she was judging them. It appeared she was drawing some swift conclusions.
‘So,’ she said gravely. ‘You wanted Jon’s things?’
Axel nodded. He was wearing his wistful smile.
‘I’ve been expecting you,’ she said. ‘Ingerid Moreno called.’
She studied them for several long seconds with a sharpness which made Reilly say a silent prayer. He had never felt so scrutinised. I need a fix, he thought.
She turned on her heel and walked off in white strappy shoes, noiseless against the linoleum floor. They followed her up a broad staircase where every step was edged with brass. It smelled as though someone had just washed it. Lemon, Reilly thought, or apple. Then they went down a long corridor until they reached a door. She opened it, and they looked inside. The room was reminiscent of a cell. The bed was stripped of linen and someone had taken Jon’s clothes out of the wardrobe and dumped them on the mattress. A pair of trousers here, a sock and a jumper there. The pile of clothes made Reilly imagine that Jon had fallen apart like a doll and that he could not be put back together again. The mattress repelled him. It had blue and white stripes and was covered with a kind of plastic sheet, through which he could detect some stains.
‘There’s not much,’ Hanna Wigert said. ‘Just some clothes. And his stereo and CDs. I’ll get you some boxes.’
Reilly was restless. He paced up and down the floor, went over to the window and looked out at the park, at the paths and the fountains.
‘I feel like an intruder,’ he said. ‘This is Jon’s room. We’ve got no right to be here.’
‘Let’s just get it over with,’ Axel said.
Reilly went to the bed and held a knitted jumper to his face. It was blue with a darker pattern across the chest. Suddenly he was surrounded by Jon. He inhaled the smell and his throat closed instantly as though a stick had been pushed down it.
‘We need to fold them carefully,’ Axel said, ‘so Ingerid can see that we’ve made an effort. Don’t just stand there. Procrastinating will only make it worse.’
Reilly was still pressing the jumper to his face. It was as if Jon were very close and wanted to tell him something. Bring me back, the voice said, I don’t want to be alone here in the dark.
‘Now get a move on,’ Axel ordered him.
Hanna Wigert returned with the boxes. She put them down on the floor and placed her hands on her hips.
‘If you understand anything about what’s happened, I expect you to tell me,’ she said.
Reilly let go of the jumper. Axel pulled the boxes towards him. It said Evergood on one and Delikat on the other.
‘It came as a shock,’ he said. ‘But then again, he was ill,’ he added.
‘Ill,’ Hanna Wigert echoed. ‘Not suicidal.’
Axel picked up a pair of trousers. Hanna Wigert did not take her eyes off him. There was something ominous about her disapproving look and her wild red hair.
‘If you think that we bear some responsibility for this, then you’re probably right,’ Axel said. ‘We should have seen that something was up, we should have taken more care. But we don’t have your experience, we’re just ordinary people.’
His words silenced her. She left, closing the door behind her, and Jon’s room fell quiet.
‘She’s one angry woman,’ Axel said. ‘She practically had steam coming out of her ears. I thought she would blow her top.’
‘Jon liked her very much,’ Reilly said.
‘Jon was desperate,’ Axel said. ‘He liked anyone who was nice to him.’
That was when Reilly snapped. He grabbed hold of Axel and shook him.
‘You’re a prick,’ he said, ‘and you’ll shut up now! Jon was worth much more than you!’
Axel grunted by way of reply. They packed Jon’s belongings in silence: jumpers, trousers, underwear, CDs and a couple of books, socks. Axel thought they could pair the socks at random, but Reilly protested.
‘Jon was very neat,’ he said.
When everything was packed up, they surveyed the bare room.
‘Look at the mirror,’ Reilly said. ‘It’s plastic.’
‘This is a desolate place,’ Axel said. ‘How do people stand it?’
‘They have no choice,’ Reilly argued.
They carried Jon’s possessions to reception. Axel went down the stairs first. Reilly followed him, a little anxious about tripping in his long coat. He was carrying the heaviest box with books and CDs. Hanna Wigert was waiting for them. She gave them another long, critical look.
‘There was just one more thing,’ Axel said. He put the box on the floor. ‘Could we meet Molly, please?’
‘Meet Molly?’ she said.
‘After all, they were friends,’ Axel said. ‘Jon spoke so much about her and she would probably like to go to his funeral. It’s on Friday. One o’clock. I thought we could have a little chat.’
Hanna Wigert frowned.
‘Molly has enough on her plate as it is,’ she said.
‘I’ll understand if she says no,’ Axel said, ‘but please would you give her the choice? It’s about Jon. She’ll probably want to know.’
Hanna Wigert looked defeated.
‘I don’t even know where she is.’
‘But you could check her room, please?’ Axel asked. ‘We understand that you have to protect your patients, but some decisions they have to make for themselves.’
Axel’s impertinence made Hanna Wigert feel dizzy. She gestured towards a small waiting room and went to find Molly Gram, walking off this time with a touch of indignation so that her otherwise noiseless shoes could be heard against the floor. Axel and Reilly sat looking out of the large windows. The sound of a lawnmower cut through the silence.
‘What do you want with her?’ Reilly whispered.
‘I just need to check something,’ Axel said. ‘Find out if she knows anything.’
Reilly shook his head, despairing. ‘And if she knows something, what are you going to do?’
Axel grabbed a magazine and started flicking through it.
‘We need to know where we stand,’ he said. ‘I need to be in control. I’ll be able to tell immediately if she knows something.’
Reilly stuffed his big hands in his coat pockets.
‘If Jon confided in Molly, there’s sod all we can do about it. Or what did you have in mind?’
Axel did not reply. They listened towards the corridor. The big building was strangely quiet; no shouting, no laughter, no footsteps. But they could hear a distant drone as from a big engine far away, or perhaps it was located underneath them, in the basement.
A young woman entered the room. The light from one of the tall windows glowed behind her. She was slender as a reed, with wispy blonde hair and harshly made up eyes. She wore a ballerina’s tutu with tights underneath and ballet pumps on her feet. In her arms she was cradling a small white dog.
Good heavens, Reilly thought. Molly Gram is an angel.
She looked at them with black eyes. Suddenly the dog freed itself, leapt down to the floor and ran to greet Axel. However, Axel ignored the small, shaggy animal, and after several failed attempts at getting his attention, it ran over to Reilly instead. Here it received a warmer welcome. Reilly stroked its head and the dog began nipping at the legs of his corduroy trousers. Reilly waited patiently. He could not make himself shoo it away and he did not move his leg. He saw that the dog had got its teeth into a torn flap of worn fabric and was pulling at it. After a while it started growling as though it were playing with another dog and Reilly decided to withdraw his foot. No good. The dog was fixed to his trouser leg. It had no intention of giving up its prey, even if it was only a scrap of corduroy. He looked towards Molly for help.
