contrary, my mother was regarded as a mediator, an advocate of reconciliation. Both in her profession and in her private life. She never said anything to me about anyone wanting to kill her. That’s just…’
He swallowed and ran his fingers through his hair over and over again.
‘As for my father…’
He was finding it difficult to breathe.
‘My father has always been in my mother’s shadow.’
His voice altered as he slowly exhaled. Suddenly he seemed resigned. It was as if he was actually talking to himself.
‘I mean, that’s obvious. My mother with her career, and my father who never got any further than his degree. I don’t suppose he wanted to…’
He broke off again.
‘How did they meet?’ Adam asked gently.
‘At school. They were in the same class.’
‘High-school sweethearts,’ said Adam with a little smile.
‘Yes. My mother was saved when she was sixteen. She came from a perfectly ordinary working-class family. My grandfather worked at BMW.’
‘In Germany?’
Adam leafed through the file in front of him, looking somewhat surprised.
‘No. Bergen Mechanical Workshop. He was a member of the Norwegian Communist Party and a wholehearted atheist. My mother was the first member of the family to go to the grammar school. It was difficult for my grandfather to see his daughter reading theology, but at the same time he was incredibly… proud of her. Unfortunately, he didn’t live long enough to see her become a bishop. That would have…’
He shrugged his shoulders.
‘My father, on the other hand, came from a totally academic environment. His father was a professor of history, at the University of Oslo first of all. They moved to Bergen when my father was around eight years old. His mother was a lecturer. In those days it was quite unusual for women to…’
Once again he broke off.
‘But you know that,’ he added, eventually.
Adam waited.
‘In many ways my father is regarded as… how shall I put it? A weak person?’
He sobbed out loud as he said it, and the tears began to flow again.
‘Which he most definitely isn’t. He’s a wonderful father. Clever and well-read. Very thoughtful. But he just couldn’t… do everything… become the kind of person who… The thing is, his parents had great hopes for him. They expected a great deal of him.’
He sobbed and wiped his mouth.
‘My father is more of a thinker than my mother was. In religious terms he’s… stricter, in some ways. He’s absolutely fascinated by Catholicism. If it hadn’t been for my mother’s position I think he would have converted a long time ago. Last autumn my mother attended an ecumenical conference in Boston, and my father went with her. He visited every single Catholic church in the city.’
Lukas hesitated for a moment.
‘He’s also more strict with himself than my mother was. I don’t think he’s ever really got over the fact that his parents were disappointed in him. He’s their only child.’
He added this final comment with an expression that suggested it explained most things.
‘So are you, I notice.’ Adam looked at his papers again, turned over his pad and quickly scribbled down a couple of sentences.
‘Yes.’
‘You’re… twenty-nine years old?’
Adam was surprised when he saw Lukas’s date of birth in the file. The previous day he had assumed the bishop’s son was well into his thirties.
‘Yes.’
‘So your parents had been married for fourteen years when you were born.’
‘They studied for a long time. Well, my mother did, anyway.’
‘And they never had any more children?’
‘Not that I know of.’
The acidic alertness was back.
Adam smiled disarmingly and quickly asked: ‘When you say they loved each other more than anything in the world, what are you basing that on?’
Lukas looked stunned.
‘What am I…? What do you mean?’ Without waiting for an answer he went on. ‘They showed it a hundred times a day! The way they spoke to one another, the experiences they shared, everything… for God’s sake, what kind of a question is that?’
His expression was almost frightening, with the blood-red eye wide open. Suddenly he stiffened, holding his breath.
‘Is something wrong?’ Adam asked after a few seconds. ‘Mr Lysgaard! What’s the matter?’
Slowly the man expelled the air from his lungs.
‘Migraine,’ he said quietly. ‘I’ve just started to get visual disturbance.’ He spoke in a monotone, and was blinking rapidly. ‘One half is shimmering…’ He held up one hand, forming a barrier between his right and left eye.
‘It means that in exactly twenty-five minutes I will get a headache so severe that it’s indescribable. I have to get home.’
He stood up so quickly that his chair fell over. For a moment he lost his balance and steadied himself against the wall. Adam looked at his watch. He had allocated the entire day to this interview, which had hardly begun. Although he had already learned enough to give him something to think about, it was difficult to hide his irritation at this interruption. But that was of no consequence. Lukas Lysgaard was already lost to this world.
‘I’ll drive you home,’ he said quietly. ‘Is there anything else I can do for you?’
‘No. Home. Now.’
Adam fetched Lukas’s coat from a hook on the wall. The man showed no sign of wanting to put it on. He simply took it and dragged it along behind him as he headed for the door. Adam moved quickly and got there first.
‘I can see you’re not well,’ he said, his hand resting on the door handle. ‘We will, of course, postpone the rest of this interview until a more suitable time. Unfortunately, however, there is one question I do have to ask. You heard it yesterday, in fact.’
Lukas Lysgaard’s expression remained unchanged. It almost seemed as if he was no longer aware that Adam was in the room.
‘What was your mother doing out walking on Christmas Eve?’
Lukas raised his head. He looked Adam straight in the eye, licked his lips and swallowed audibly. It was clearly taking a huge amount of effort to steel himself against the pain he knew would come.
‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘I have no idea why my mother was out so late.’
‘Did she usually go out in the evening? Just before bedtime? I mean, was it normal for her to…’
Lukas was still holding his gaze.
‘I have to get home,’ he said hoarsely. ‘No. I have no idea where my mother was going or what she was doing. Take me home. Please.’
You’re lying, Adam thought as he opened the door. I can see that you’re lying.
‘I’m telling the truth,’ said Lukas Lysgaard, wobbling into the corridor.
‘You couldn’t tell a lie if you were being paid for it,’ Lina Skytter said with a laugh as she tucked her legs up on the sofa.
