Karin Fossum - Calling Out For You aka The Indian Bride

"Are there any people of ethnic origin living in Elvestad?" he asked her.

"Two families. One from Vietnam and one from Korea. The Thuans and the Tees. They have lived here for years. Everybody knows them. But it couldn't be any one of them."

"It couldn't?" he said.

"No," she said firmly, and shook her head. "It couldn't be."

She stared again at the meadow. "Imagine that I thought it was a bag of rubbish."

Gunder was still in his chair long after the sun was up. He had fallen asleep in an impossibly awkward position. He jerked awake when the telephone rang, sprang up and snatched at the handset. It was Bjørnsson from work.

"So, are you working from home today as well?"

"No, no," he said, "it's not that." And he had to support himself against the desk. He had got up too quickly.

"Are you unwell?" Bjørnsson said.

Gunder looked at the clock, startled at how late it was. Something was throbbing in his head.

"No. It's my sister," he said. "She's in hospital. I have to go there now," he went on without actually meaning to because everything in his head was in chaos and he had no idea how to confront this day.

"I'll call and let you know more later."

Then he staggered into the bathroom. Peeled off his clothes. Showered with the door wide open so that he would hear the phone if it rang again. But it did not ring. After a while he called the hospital himself. There was no change. She was still in a coma, but her condition was stable, they said. Nothing is stable any more, thought Gunder miserably. He could not face eating, but brewed a pot of coffee. Sat in his chair again, waiting. Where had Poona spent the night? Why did she not call? Here he was, like an abandoned dog. He sat by the phone like this for a long time more asleep than awake. Marie could wake up at any moment and there would be no-one by her bedside. Poona might ring any second and say, "I think I'm lost. Please would you pick me up?" And then her laughter at the other end of the phone, a bit embarrassed perhaps. But time passed and no-one phoned. I have to call the police, he thought in despair. But that was as much as to acknowledge that something was wrong. He switched on the radio, but went to his desk and stayed there. He listened while all the misery in the world was quietly summed up on the radio. The volume was low, but he still caught every single word, without them making any sense to him. When suddenly he raised his head, it was because he heard the name Elvestad. Loud and clear. He got up and walked over to the radio. Turned up the volume. "Woman of ethnic origin. Beaten to death."

Here, in Elvestad? thought Gunder, exasperated. And then an inspector: We don't know the woman's identity. No-one has reported her missing. Gunder listened intently. What were they saying?

Woman of ethnic origin. Beaten to death.

He collapsed across the desk, trembling. Just then the shrill ring of the telephone cut savagely through the room, but he did not dare answer it. Everything was swimming before his eyes. Then finally it settled. He tried to straighten his body. Felt stiff and weird. He turned his head and looked at the telephone and it occurred to him that he should ring Marie. He always did when something was wrong. But now he couldn't. He went into the hallway to fetch his car keys. Poona was probably at some hotel in town. The other one, the woman they had referred to on the radio, had nothing to do with him. After all there was so much crime everywhere. He would write a note and stick it on the door, in case she arrived while he was out. My wife Poona. He saw his own face in the mirror and was shocked. His own eyes stared back at him, wide with naked fear. Just then the phone rang again. Of course, that would be her! No, he thought, it's the hospital. Marie's dead. Or perhaps it's Karsten from Hamburg who wants to know how she is; he is on his way to the airport to catch the first available flight. It was Kalle Moe. Gunder remained standing, holding the handset in his hand, sloping over his desk.

"Gunder," said Kalle. "I just wanted to know."

His voice was timid. Gunder said nothing. He had nothing to say. He thought of lying and saying: Yes, she's sitting here now. Had got lost, of course. A taxi driver from town who didn't know his way around out here in the countryside.

"How did it go?" Kalle said.

Gunder still did not answer. The news he had heard on the radio was still buzzing in his head. Perhaps Kalle had heard it too, and now the poor fool had put two and two together and made five. Some people were like that, of course: always imagining the worst. And Kalle was a worrier.

"Are you there, Gunder?"

"I'm on my way to the hospital."

Kalle cleared his throat. "How is your sister?"

"I haven't heard anything, so I suppose she hasn't woken up yet. I don't know."

There was silence once more. It was as if Kalle was holding something back. Gunder was definitely not coming to his rescue.

"No," said Kalle, "I just started to worry. I don't know if you've heard the news, but they've found a woman out at Hvitemoen."

Gunder held his breath, and then he said, "Yes?"

"They don't know who she is," Kalle said. "But they're saying she's foreign. And she is, well, I mean – they've found a woman's body, that's what I meant to say. That's why I started to worry, you know me. Not that I supposed there was any connection, but it's not very far from your place. I was scared that it could be the woman I was looking for yesterday. But she arrived all right, didn't she?"

"She'll be here later today," said Gunder with conviction.

"You got hold of her?"

Gunder cleared his throat. "I have to go now – should be at the hospital."

"Of course."

He heard Kalle's uneasiness at the other end.

"And I need to pay you for the trip," said Gunder hurriedly. "I'll catch you later!"

He put the telephone down. For a while he stood, hesitating. A note for Poona, that's what he was going to have done.

He could leave the key outside. Did they put the key under the mat in India? He found pen and paper, but then he realised that he didn't know how to write in English. Could only speak it a bit. It will be fine, he thought, as he left the house with the door unlocked and got into his car.

Hvitemoen was a kilometre out of Elvestad towards Randskog. It was not on his way to the hospital and he was relieved about that. It seemed to him that there were more people about than normal. He passed two white outside-broadcast vans and two police cars. Parked in front of Einar's café was a whole row of cars. And bikes and people. He looked at all of it as he accelerated past, frightened.

Once he was safely at the hospital he took the lift. He went straight to Marie's room. A nurse was leaning over her. She drew up when he entered the room.

"Who are you?" she said.

"Gunder Jomann," he said. "I'm her brother."

She bent over Marie once more. "All visitors must report to the duty office before they come on to the ward," she said. Gunder said nothing. He stood at the foot of the bed, bewildered and feeling guilty. Why was she like that? Were they not glad that he had finally arrived?

"I did sit here all of yesterday," he said, still ashamed. "So I thought it would be all right."

"Well, I wasn't to know that," she said, smiling half-heartedly. "I was off duty yesterday."

He did not answer her. The words were all tangled up in a hairball which stuck in his throat. He wanted to ask her if there was any change. But he could feel his lips trembling and he did not want her to see him cry. Carefully he sat down at the edge of the chair and folded his hands in his lap. My wife has disappeared, he thought frantically. He wanted to shout out to the woman standing by the bed regulating a drip feed just how difficult it all was. Marie, his only sister, in a coma, her husband in Hamburg. And Poona who had vanished into thin air. He did not have anyone else. He wanted the nurse to leave. And not return. He would prefer the blonde one who'd been there yesterday. The one with the friendly smile who had brought him a drink.