Karin Fossum - Calling Out For You aka The Indian Bride

"Are you all right, given the circumstances?" the lawyer asked, opening a folder.

"Yes," Gøran said.

"Do you need anything? Food? A drink?"

"A Coke would be nice."

The lawyer popped his head out into the corridor and sent for a Coke.

"Nice and cold," he added.

"My name's Robert Friis," he said. "Call me Robert."

His handshake was dry and businesslike.

"Now. Before we start. You've denied any involvement in the murder of Poona Bai. Am I right?"

"What's that?" Gøran said, not catching the foreign name.

"The woman found dead at Hvitemoen was Indian. Her name was Poona Bai."

"I'm innocent," Gøran said quickly.

"Do you know anything about the murder at all, such as who might have done it?"

"No."

"Have you otherwise been near the crime scene on another occasion and possibly left behind personal belongings or other such items?"

Gøran ran his hand over his forehead. "No," he said.

Friis kept looking directly into his eyes.

"Then it is my job to prevent you from being convicted," he said briskly. "That's why it's of the utmost importance that you tell me everything and that you hide from me nothing which the prosecutor can spring on me later."

Gøran gave him an uncertain look. "I have nothing to hide," he said.

"That's good," Friis said. "However, there may be things you don't remember right at this moment, which may come back to you later. Be sure to tell me those things as soon as you remember them. You are entitled to speak to me whenever you want. Make sure you do do that. Naturally I'm working on other cases, but I will do whatever is necessary for you."

"I told them everything already," he said.

"Good," Friis said.

Gøran's Coke arrived. It was cold and it pricked his tongue.

"Then I need to ask you if you understand the seriousness of the situation. You're charged with murder. With particularly aggravating circumstances."

"Yes," Gøran said. He hesitated slightly. Nothing like this had happened to him before, so he was stumbling into unknown territory.

"Aggravating circumstances means that you might receive an additional punishment of up to two years for the battery of the deceased. Such acts make the police especially angry. They will now petition that you be remanded in custody and while you are on remand they will obtain as much evidence as they can to bring a case against you. Meanwhile you'll stay here with restraints on correspondence and visits."

"I have to stay here?" Gøran stammered. He had imagined that they would interview him, perhaps for hours, but he had hoped that he would be allowed to leave later in the day. Einar's Café would be packed with people. He had to go there and be with them. Listen to what they said. He was stricken by some sort of panic. He drank his Coke nervously.

"They'll try to wear you down," Friis said. "Remember that. Always count to three before you answer any questions."

Gøran looked at him blankly.

"They want you to lose control. It's important that you don't. Even though you might be worn out, tired, even exhausted. Do you lose control easily?"

"I can take a lot," Gøran said, leaning forward demonstratively across the table. Friis could see the powerful arms. He took note of them.

"I'm not talking about physical strength," he said. "Rather about what goes on up here." He pointed to his own head. "The officer who'll be interrogating you isn't allowed to hit you. And he won't, I know him. However, he will be doing everything else not covered by the law to force a confession out of you. That's his only aim. A confession. Not whether you're guilty or not."

Gøran gave Friis a horrified look. "I've nothing to fear," he said, but his voice broke at the end of the sentence and he gripped his glass of Coke so tightly that it looked as if it might crack. "After all, I've an alibi," he added. "She's reliable, too. Unless she pulls out. That's why I don't understand why I'm here at all."

"You're speaking of Lillian Sunde?" Friis said gravely.

"Yes," Gøran said, surprised at how much they all knew in such a short space of time.

"She denies that you were at her house," Friis said. Gøran's eyes widened. His face drained of colour. With a jolt he got up from the chair and banged his fists on the table.

"For fuck's sake!" he screamed. "What a bitch! Bring her here and then I'll tell you what's really going on here. I've known that woman for over a year and then she goes and-"

Friis got up and pushed Gøran back on to his chair. A shocked silence followed.

"You forgot to count," he said quietly. "One outburst like that in court and you'll be branded a killer. Do you understand the seriousness?"

Gøran breathed heavily. He clutched the edge of the table with both hands. "I was with Lillian," he whispered. "If she says I wasn't, then she's lying. If you only knew what I know about her! What she likes and doesn't like. How she wants it! What she looks like. All over. I know!"

"She has much to lose," Friis said. "Her own reputation, for example."

"She never had one," Gøran said angrily. A tear ran treacherously down his cheek.

"It might be hard for people to understand why you were going out with Ulla Mørk while also visiting Lillian at her house over a period of a whole year."

"But it's not a crime," Gøran said.

"Indeed it isn't. But people need to understand who you are and how you think and act. At least you need to be able to explain it if they ask, and they most certainly will ask. So you can start by explaining it to me."

Gøran looked at Friis in surprise. It was blindingly obvious. Two women were better than one. Besides, they were different. Ulla looked good next to him, but always wanted to be in control. Something was always not right for her. Lillian was always up for it. Lillian didn't need him to hold her hand or take her to restaurants. Ulla was high maintenance, she needed pleasing before she would give him what he needed. This burning desire which all men had and which was the real reason they had girlfriends at all.

"A girlfriend means more than just sex, doesn't she?"

Gøran looked at him somewhat exasperated. "You fall out of love," he said wearily. "Often quite quickly."

"What about love?" Friis said.

Gøran smiled incredulously.

"Gøran," Friis said sternly. "There will be adults on the jury who'll assume that you and Ulla were a couple. And all that entails. Just because you have never experienced love does not mean it doesn't exist."

Gøran glared despondently at the table.

"The jury needs to hear that you love Ulla. And that Lillian was an affair that you wish you'd never ever started. However, it was the worst possible bad luck that you happened to be there on the evening of the 20th. That's what you've told the police and you have to stick to that."

"Of course," Gøran said. "Because it's true."

"Ulla broke up with you after you'd been to the gym. Outside Adonis. And you went straight to Lillian's. Am I right?"

"Yes," Gøran said. "I called her first."

"Were you angry with Ulla?"

"More annoyed. She kept breaking up with me. I didn't really know what to think. Bloody women, they say one thing and-"

"Calm down, Gøran, calm down!"

He crumpled once again. "I didn't kill that woman at Hvitemoen. My head feels all messed up, I feel dizzy when they ask me about times and dates, but I'm sure of this one thing: I did not kill that woman! I didn't see a living soul," he said. He felt dizzy. It was a rare and strange feeling for him.

"Konrad Sejer is heading the interrogation,"

Friis said. "He'll be here soon to fetch you. You'll be spending quite a lot of time with him. The first few days he'll probably spend building trust between you."