shadow. And those who come after us grow up in that shadow. The sins of the fathers, he mused. But Axel would not understand these things. Axel would ask if he was thinking of getting married or having kids since he was going on about future generations. No one will want a scruffy old hippie like you, he would say. And he might be right.
‘Our society is based on important values,’ Reilly said out loud. He held up three fingers. ‘The rule of law, truth and justice. But we’ve made our own rules.’
‘There isn’t one set of rules which apply universally,’ Axel declared. ‘You understand that, don’t you? Such notions depend on culture. And history. And religion. And, not least, circumstances. By the way, why are you reading the Koran?’
‘It’s Nader from work,’ Reilly said. ‘Nader talks about the Koran the whole time. The most beautiful message about peace in the world.’
‘If you’re feeling that much guilt,’ Axel said, ‘then throw away the Koran and become a Catholic.’
Ingerid Moreno came to the door immediately to greet them. She no longer looked like the Ingerid they knew. Despair controlled her body like pain in every joint, and she moved around like an old woman. Axel got a cautious hug, but she was more reserved towards Reilly. As per usual Axel was sincere in his compassion. Why is that man not on the stage? Reilly thought, he’s a born actor. But perhaps life itself was his stage and everyone he met his devoted audience. Ingerid invited them in. Reilly watched her large, heavy breasts undulate beneath her blouse. Jon used to lie at those breasts, Reilly thought, it must have been a good place to be. Jon did not take after his mother, he thought next. Jon was thin and slight, while Ingerid was plump and broad-shouldered. But the Italian Moreno, who was Jon’s father, had been slight, too, he recalled. A small, slender guy who had left them when Jon was a little boy.
‘I know he found things difficult,’ Ingerid said. ‘Young people often do. But he was getting help.’
She looked at them across the table.
‘What do you think?’ she asked. ‘Tell me what you think. You were with him that last evening.’
Reilly was unable to utter a single word, but Axel spoke freely, as he always did.
‘I suppose he was a bit gloomy,’ he said, ‘a little low. He did not say much, you know what he was like. He didn’t drink much either, Jon was quite restrained like that. He didn’t do much crazy stuff, you need to know that, Ingerid.’
He opened his arms helplessly.
‘Anxiety is impossible,’ he said. ‘An enemy you can’t see or hear.’
Ingerid Moreno started wringing her hands in her lap.
‘But when did it start?’ she asked. ‘Did you notice when he first started to feel anxious? Did he talk about it? Was it last winter?’
Axel and Reilly exchanged glances.
‘Did something happen? I’ve tried thinking back,’ she said, ‘but I can’t put my finger on anything. Could it have been to do with a girl? Girlfriend trouble can get very bad, I know all about that, I was married to an Italian.’
Axel smiled a kind smile.
‘Jon wasn’t involved with girls,’ he said. ‘Jon was very shy, you know that. If a girl even so much as looked at him, his ears would go bright red.’
‘Yes,’ Ingerid remembered. ‘His ears used to go very red.’
She gave them a look of resignation.
‘When the hospital told me he was going on this trip, I was very sceptical. But when they explained he was going with you two, I didn’t mind. Then I knew he would be in safe hands.’
Reilly felt a lump in his throat. He thought about their safe hands which had not managed to save Jon. His eyes sought the window; they lingered on a treetop where a crow made a branch sway, slowly, like a child on a swing.
‘Shy or not,’ Ingerid said, ‘he did have a friend at Ladegarden. Her name is Molly and she was in the same ward. Jon doesn’t get close to people very easily so it made me happy. Because it’s so important to have friends, and of course, a girlfriend. I had hoped that Molly might become his girlfriend. That he would finally have had someone to confide in.’
Her lower lip started to quiver.
‘I know he was holding something back,’ she hiccuped. ‘Mothers always know. But whenever I asked, he would draw back. It must have been something serious since he was too scared to tell me. That’s what I thought. Something really serious.’
At this point Axel and Reilly both chose to nod emphatically.
‘His funeral is next Friday,’ Ingerid said. ‘At one o’clock. The vicar is coming tomorrow. I hope he is a considerate man and that he can find something to say, something meaningful. Please would you help me choose some music?’ she asked. ‘What did Jon like to listen to? Please tell me.’
‘Madrugada,’ Axel said.
‘Madrugada, definitely,’ Reilly said. ‘Jon wouldn’t have settled for anything less.’
‘I see. Is that a band?’
‘Yes. Jon liked Madrugada more than anything else. We can sort that out for you. We’ll find something suitable.’
‘We can’t have rock music in a church,’ she said.
‘We’ll pick something quiet,’ Axel said. ‘Trust us.’
‘“Highway of Light,”’ Reilly suggested.
‘Yes, “Highway of Light”, definitely,’ Axel agreed. ‘It will raise the roof of the church. It is grand and symphonic. It always used to send shivers down Jon’s spine when he listened to it.’
‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘You’re so kind.’
She leaned forward across the table as if to crawl over to them.
‘I wish he had left behind a letter,’ she said. ‘A last message. I have spoken to Hanna Wigert. She said he might have been struck by an acute psychosis, but we’ll never know for sure.’
She wrung her hands on the table. Reilly grew scared that the joints of her fingers would snap.
‘And then I need to talk to Molly. If she wants to see me. And his things need to be collected. I’m dreading it. Entering the room where he slept, taking his toothbrush out of the glass. His clothes and everything.’
‘Let us do that, please,’ Axel said. ‘Then you won’t have to.’
Again she smiled with gratitude.
‘Thank you,’ she whispered. ‘You’re so kind. Thank you for everything you have been for Jon, you meant so much to him. I’ll never forget you two.’
She clasped their hands on the table.
‘And now there’s something I need to tell you,’ she said.
She looked earnestly at them both.
‘What happened must be difficult for you and perhaps you feel responsible, but you’re not. I don’t blame you for anything. Promise me, please, that you will put this behind you and move on.’
CHAPTER 8
Ladegarden Psychiatric Hospital was a yellow, three-storey building set in an attractive park with sculptures and fountains. A network of paths bordered by flowers and bushes criss-crossed the grounds. Axel stopped the Mercedes in the visitors’ car park and for a while they sat watching the yellow facade. Jon had slept behind one of the arched windows.
‘His room was on the first floor,’ Axel said.
Reilly started counting. ‘It’s up there,’ he said, pointing. ‘Fourth window from the left.’
Axel stuck a Marlboro in his mouth and Reilly opened the car window. He did not want to go inside, did not want see Jon’s room or his things. However, they had promised Ingerid Moreno they would take care of it. Axel finished his cigarette. They went to reception and explained why they had come.
‘We would like to talk to Hanna Wigert,’ Axel said. ‘We’re here to collect Jon Moreno’s belongings.’
