Karin Fossum - Eva's Eye

Eva accelerated and turned tightly into the roundabout. She bowled past the light bulb factory, and noticed the newspaper stand outside the bakery door, “Found suffocated,” it said, and the same at the Esso service station. Maja was all over town and Elmer would certainly have read it too, if he read newspapers, and surely everyone did. She slackened speed, she was in Oscarsgate now, glided past the brewery, went on to the swimming baths, and parked around the back. She remained seated in the car for a few moments. The brewery car park was large and there were lots of white cars. She locked up and walked slowly past the swimming baths, smelling the chlorine that wafted out, and continued to the bosses’ car park, right by the brewery’s main entrance. Elmer definitely wasn’t one of the bosses, he wasn’t dressed like a boss, and he’d also moaned about his wages. She ambled slowly on, now she had the car park on her left. It was protected by a barrier. A card machine blinked red and a large sign on the right declared that the car park was kept under surveillance, but not what form it took. She couldn’t see cameras anywhere. She squeezed past the barrier and turned to the left, it was a case of searching systematically, there were a great many cars. Her heart thumped harder, she pushed her hands into her coat pockets and attempted to stroll unhurriedly, occasionally raising her face to the sun. She formed her mouth into a small smile and hoped it looked trustworthy. Here was a Honda Civic, white, and almost unnaturally shiny, as if it had come straight from the showroom. She went on down the line, needing to look at all of them, including the number plates, but at the same time appearing not to be checking if someone was watching her. Could a man kill in the evening and then go to work the next day? Was it possible? A BMW, rather worn and dirty with a lot of rubbish on the dashboard. A Beetle, which was not actually white, but more a dirty yellow. She went on to the second row, felt a tiny bit of warmth from the sun even though it was October now, a wistful little caress on her cheek. Suddenly, Maja was irretrievably dead. It was unbelievable. She wasn’t really sure if it had sunk in. She’d popped up from nowhere, and just as suddenly she’d gone. She’d seemed to flit by like some strange dream. A white Mercedes, an old Audi, Eva sauntered on her long legs with her coat open, until all at once a man was blocking her way. A navy blue boiler suit with lots of luminous strips on it. Securitas.

“You got an entry card?”

Eva frowned. He was only a spotty boy, but large. “What?”

“This is a private car park. Looking for something?”

“Yes, a car. I’m not touching anything.”

“You’ll have to leave, this is for employees only.” He had spiky yellow hair and loads of self-confidence.

“It’s only to check something. Just going around to take a look. It’s important to me,” she added.

“No way! Come on, I’ll see you out.” He came toward her, his arm authoritative.

“You can follow me if you like, I only want to look at the cars. I’m looking for a guy I need to talk to, it’s important. Please. I’ve got a car and a stereo of my own.”

He hesitated. “Okay then, but be quick. My job is getting unauthorized persons off the car park, so that’s why.”

She continued along the lines of cars, hearing his steps behind her.

“What kind of car is it?” he fretted.

She didn’t answer. Elmer mustn’t know someone was looking for him. This puppy in his blue romper suit would certainly tell.

“I know lots of the blokes who work here,” he added.

A Toyota Tercel, an old Volvo, a Nissan Sunny. The security man coughed.

“Is he on production? On the taps?”

“I don’t know him,” she said curtly. “Only the car.”

“This is some big secret, eh?”

“Correct.”

He stopped and nodded. He stood with his arms folded, feeling foolish. A lone woman was trespassing in a private area and he was following her about like a poodle. What kind of security man was he? Some of his self-assurance seeped away.

“And what d’you want with a bloke you don’t know?” He overtook her and propped himself against the bonnet of a car. His legs were long, they were blocking her way.

“I’m thinking of throttling him,” she said, smiling sweetly.

“Oh yeah, right.” He chuckled, as if he suddenly understood. His beaver nylon boiler suit sat snugly on his toned body. Eva stared at the number plate between his open legs. BL 744. She turned to the car opposite, which was a silver Golf, walked right up to it, and peered in through the window. He followed her. “That one’s in the canteen, can’t remember his name. A little squirt with wavy hair. Is that him?”

She smiled patiently, straightened up, and threw a quick glance at the white Opel behind him, now she could make out the full number. BL 74470. It was a Manta. She’d been right, it was just like Jostein’s old one, but this one was nicer-looking, newer and better looked after. The trim of the seats was red. She walked back, heading for the barrier, she’d seen enough. She’d found him just like that. A perfectly normal brewery worker with a murder on his conscience. And she, Eva, knew enough to put him inside for fifteen or twenty years. Inside a tiny cell. It’s unbelievable, she thought. Yesterday he killed Maja. Today he’s at work as if nothing had happened. So he’s clever. A cold fish. Perhaps he was talking about the murder over a sandwich in the canteen. She could imagine him smacking his lips and chewing with bits of mayonnaise on his upper lip. Terrible wasn’t it, boys, about that woman — must have been an excitable customer. Then he’d wash it down with some Coke, pick out the lemon and bits of parsley before taking another bite. I’ll bet he’s away over the Swedish border already.

Maybe several of them had visited Maja, she thought suddenly. And perhaps he felt the way she did, that he could hardly believe it had happened and pushed it away like a nasty dream.

“I remember his name now!” the security man yelled after her. “The one with the Golf. His name’s Bendiksen. From Finnmark!”

Eva waved without turning and walked on. Then she halted again. “Do they work shifts?”

“Seven to three to eleven to seven.”

She nodded again, glanced at her watch, and walked out of the car park, back past the swimming baths, and got into her own car. Her heart was beating fast now, she had a huge secret and wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. But she started the car and drove homeward. Three o’clock was a long way off. Then she could wait and follow him. Find out where he lived. If he had a wife and children. A terrific urge surfaced within her, he had to know that someone was on to him! No more than that. She couldn’t bear the thought that he felt safe, that he’d got up and gone to work as usual, after killing Maja for no reason at all. She couldn’t understand why he’d done it, where all the fury had come from. As if the knife on the side of the bed was the greatest insult he’d ever suffered. But murderers aren’t like other people, she mused, and swung out to pass a cyclist who was weaving about on her right. They must lack something. Or perhaps he’d quite simply been terrified by the sight of the knife. Had he really believed that Maja would stab him? She wondered for a moment if some crafty lawyer could save him by asserting that he’d acted in self-defense. In that case I’d have to come forward, Eva thought, but then dismissed the idea. To give evidence as a friend of the prostitute, no, she couldn’t do it. I’m not a coward, she thought, not really. But I have to think of Emma. She repeated it to herself again and again. But a great restlessness had taken charge of her body, a thousand little ants crawling through her veins. At the thought that nobody knew anything. That such a thing could happen to her friend, Maja — the very best of friends — and end up as just a tiny paragraph in the newspaper.