When The Devil Holds The Candle Part 13

"Yes, I did."

"But you still decided to fire. Did you realise that you would hit her? Anita the girl you were so fond of?"

Robert met his gaze for a second.

"No. Yes. I couldn't exactly ask her to move.

'Move over, Anita, I want to shoot Anders.' I couldn't do that. I had to shoot."

"Were you angry, Robert?"

"Angry? . . . I don't think so. But Anders was a coward."

"You were focused on shooting?"

"I needed that bang," he repeated.

"Why didn't you stop?"

"It was too hard. I was already in the middle of it."

218.

"You felt you had pa.s.sed the point of no return. And then it went off. How did that feel?" Robert swallowed hard. Held back his reply.

Couldn't believe his own words. "Good," he said. At the same time he began shaking violently. "It felt good. I got really hot. I could feel myself falling."

"The sounds in the room," Sejer said, "did they come back?"

"After a while. Like when somebody turns up the radio to full blast. I was shaking uncontrollably. They were bending over me, everybody was bending over me, and someone was screaming. The girls were wailing, and someone dropped a gla.s.s on the floor."

"What did you think had happened?"

"That a terrible accident had taken place. That I was injured."

"You. Injured?"

"Something had hit me. It was all a blur. The sounds were too loud. There was blood on the floor. I thought, somebody is going to come and help me soon. I fell down while I waited for help. I liked the fact that someone was going to come and carry me away. I liked it," he said.

"What about now, Robert? Do you want to go on?"

"Yes."

He had been making such an effort that his s.h.i.+rt had big wet patches on it.

219.

"Why?"

"This time, starting again is different. It won't be the same things as before." He leaned across the desk, exhausted. "But I don't understand why. The psychologist can probably find an explanation. But how can he be sure that it's the right one?"

"He's not always sure, Robert. He does his job as best he can. He tries to understand."

"But is there anything to understand? It just happened."

"There are a lot of strange things that just happen. But it's important to go over things. And maybe you'll understand more as time pa.s.ses."

"But I'm not crazy!" That was the one thing he didn't want to be.

"No. I don't think of you as crazy. But sometimes too many things can happen all at once and knock us over. But you can get up again. You're still the one controlling your own life."

"I don't think so. Not in here."

"Oh yes. You decide almost everything. What you say, what you think, how you're going to spend your days." Sejer took his hand. "I wish you would eat something."

"If I don't eat I get so foggy, and then I don't have to think so much."

"It's better to think, if you can. Don't put it off. It'll come back to you sooner or later anyway." 220 Robert's mouth was dry. He wondered if he could be picked up and carried back to the cot in his cell by this strong man.

"You can get up and leave," Robert said. "Leave this place and forget about us. I've become somebody's job," he said pensively. "You're paid to talk to people like me."

"Does that bother you?"

"A little."

"I don't mind being around people like you." Robert was lost in his own thoughts. Sejer let him sit there. Robert was cautiously forming ideas. He would manage to bear what awaited him.

Survive prison. Everyone in here had made similar mistakes. He was one of many, some might have even done worse things. He would toe the line, follow the rules, be a model prisoner. Day after day, for weeks, months. He would make it through. But afterwards . . . when he got out one day, what then?

What would he say? What would he do when people found out about his past? Would he be able to handle that? Or would he make sure that he found a way back to this building, with its order and rules? Here it was easy. A few simple tasks, meals three times a day, money for cigarettes. Even kindness. Once again, he started to shake.

"But I want to know how I'm supposed to handle this!" he burst out. Tears welled up in his 221 eyes, but he fought to hold them back and wiped his nose on his sleeve. Sat there in silence while the suppressed sobs shook inside him. He no longer knew who this Robert was. He had lost his foothold on reality. Slowly, he rose from his chair. He rose up higher and higher, felt himself hovering high above the desk. He could look down at his own empty chair, he could gently turn and circle the room. The chief inspector didn't notice; he was busy writing notes.

222.

CHAPTER 14.

Runi was standing on the steps, shouting. She was clearly upset and kept on tugging at the door handle. I ran back to the kitchen and turned the radio up to full volume.

"Irma, it's Runi. You have to let me in, Irma!" I thought fast. Did I have to open the door? What would happen if I didn't?

"I'm not feeling well!" I shouted. "I stayed home from work today!"

I leaned against the wall for support. I had to keep her out! Why was all of this coming to my house, trying to force its way in!

"I have to talk to you!"

She wouldn't give up. I tried to think of an excuse not to open the door. Andreas would hear us and start screaming. She didn't usually come over like this, without being invited, it was unbelievably bold of her, and of course impossible for me to let her inside. But if I didn't open the door . . .

"Let me in, Irma! I beg you!"

Her voice had reached a falsetto pitch. I thought 223 about the neighbours; they would hear her. I was going to have to open the door. I turned the key and opened the door a crack. She barged into the hall. Her eyes were swollen and her coat was unb.u.t.toned. It was awful to see Runi looking that way. I prefer her usual sweet self.

"Something terrible has happened!" She sank on to a chair at the table and rummaged in her handbag for a cigarette. Gypsy music was coming from the radio, which she glanced at and then started shouting in despair. "I've called you several times. Why didn't you answer?" and then, "Can't you turn that radio down?"

I went to the radio and turned it down, but just a little.

"What's wrong?"

"Andreas," she gasped. "Andreas is missing."

"What do you mean, missing?"

I gave her a look of incomprehension. But I needn't have worried, because she was so absorbed in her own despair. That was actually quite typical of Runi. She didn't really see me at all, just stared down at her own unhappiness.

"He hasn't been home for two days. I've been to see the police."

"The police?" I was appalled.

"I reported him missing."

I pulled my cardigan tighter as I listened intently 224 for sounds from the cellar, but I didn't hear anything. Maybe he had fainted, or fallen asleep. Dear G.o.d, even though I don't believe in you, please make him sleep!

"But isn't Andreas often away from home?" I said. "Have you called his father?"

"He's not there. The police have been out to talk to him."

"What about his friends?"

"He only has one friend, and he doesn't know anything. Something has happened to him, I'm sure of it. Good Lord! I feel so desperate. What if he ran away? We're always fighting. I was never happy with him, and maybe now he's had enough. I'm going crazy with this waiting. It's driving me crazy, Irma!" She leaned forward and began to sob. She sobbed for a long time while I searched for something to say. I'm not very good with words, and I started to feel a little embarra.s.sed. Besides, I thought I could hear a sound from the cellar. Some sort of clicking noise. Faint, but definitely there. But he couldn't move, so it had to be something else. I searched frantically for an explanation. What if Runi heard it? But she would never dream that Andreas was lying in my cellar with his neck broken. She didn't have that much imagination.

"Had he got himself mixed up in something?" I asked. It was like sprinkling water on frying oil: Runi at once started sputtering.

"Don't talk like that! You sound just like his 225 father. Andreas would never do anything illegal, if that's what you're insinuating. But so many strange things go on in this town, especially at night, so I fear the worst. I feel as if I'm going crazy when I think about everything that might have happened." She kept on crying, but more quietly now. I should offer her something, I thought, but then she would stay even longer, so I didn't.

"Do you have any coffee?" she suddenly asked. I was annoyed, but couldn't very well refuse. She might get suspicious. Runi isn't especially bright, but she can be shrewd, in a primitive sort of way. I got up and turned on the coffee maker. That's when I heard the sound again. Runi was lost in her own thoughts. Her cigarette was sending a thin, disgusting stream of smoke towards the ceiling.

"You should try calling everybody," I said with my back turned. It's important to keep the conversation going, I thought. As long as we keep talking she won't hear the noise from the cellar. "What about his work?" I said. "Have you talked to them?"

"Of course I have."

"He might have run off with a girl," I said. "He's so handsome, that Andreas. Having himself a little adventure. Did he have much money?"

"I can't think that he did. He doesn't make much, and he's always sharing what he does earn with Zipp. If he had gone off with Zipp, I could understand it. But Zipp is at home. He's fine." 226 "Zipp?"

"His friend. They're inseparable."

"Oh? Inseparable?"

I took two cups from the cupboard, listening. A faint sound, from something thin and light.

"I'm going to ask the police if they can report Andreas missing on the evening news on TV. With a photograph and everything. Apparently every time something runs on the evening news they get lots of calls. They say that there's always somebody who knows something."

"That's not really true, is it?"

"That's what they say."

"They? Who are 'they'?"

"People I've talked to."

"But if anyone did know anything they would call, TV news or no TV news, wouldn't they?" I fumbled with the coffee filter and spilled coffee on the counter, but she didn't notice.

"No. Because they often have good reasons for keeping quiet."

"What? What do you mean?"

I took a sugar bowl out of the cupboard and set it on the table. The sound from the cellar had stopped. Was he lying there listening to us? Did he recognise his mother's voice through the floorboards? Runi had such a shrill voice.

"Can't you turn off that music!" she said. "I can't even think!"

227.

"All right, all right."

I turned it down a little more. She gave me a look of surprise that I didn't do as she asked. All my life I've done what people told me to do, but not any more. I left the radio on. She shook her head.

"What should I do?" she said.

"I'm sure he'll come back soon," I said clumsily."You don't understand anything! You don't realise how serious this is. Two days. Just think what could happen in two days!"

"But he's not exactly a child," I objected.

"Oh yes, he is. He's my child!"

"I mean, he's probably off doing something. Something that he might not . . ." I stopped and shrugged my shoulders.

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm just thinking aloud. You don't usually worry about him."

"But this time he's disappeared!"