Håkan Nesser - Woman with Birthmark

“It certainly is,” said Van Veeteren.

“What struck me,” said Melgarves, “is only a minor detail, but it's something that Malik, Maasleitner, and Innings were mixed up in. It might be irrelevant, but if I understand the situation aright, you've had trouble in finding a link between them.”

“We have had certain problems,” admitted Van Veeteren.

“Well, it was in connection with our demob party,” said Melgarves.

“Demob party?”

“Yes, we had a big farewell do in Maardam. Arno 's Cellar-I don't think it exists any longer…”

“No, it's closed down,” said Van Veeteren.

“Just two days before we were released. Yes, it was a party that everybody attended-and some of the officers and lecturers as well. No women, men only. We'd rented the whole place and… well, there was quite a lot of drinking going on, obviously.”

“The link?” wondered the chief inspector.

Melgarves cleared his throat.

“I'm coming to that. We kept going until rather late-two, half past two, I'd say; quite a few were pretty drunk. Some passed out. To be honest, I wasn't completely sober myself, but it was one of those evenings, you might say. And it was allowed-we didn't have any duties until the following afternoon, and… well, only two more days before demob, and all that…”

“I understand,” said Van Veeteren with a trace of irritation in his voice. “Perhaps you'd like to come to the point, Mr. Melgarves?”

“Well, afterward,” said Melgarves, “that's when I saw them. Those of us who'd stayed on to the very end staggered out of Arno 's. We were in groups, and kicking up a bit of a row, I'm sorry to say. Making our way back to Löhr-and that's when I happened to see them. I'd gone into an alley to, er, relieve myself, and when I'd finished I ran into them. They were in a doorway, and they had this girl with them-no more than seventeen or eighteen, I'd say. And they were giving her a rough time.”

“Giving her a rough time? What do you mean by that?”

“Well, trying to talk her into it, I suppose.”

“Talk her into what?”

“Oh come on, you know.”

“I suppose so. And?”

“Anyway, they were standing around her. They were pretty soused, and I don't suppose she was all that interested, or however you might put it. In any case, they were going on at her, and laughing, and wouldn't let her go.”

“Did she want to go?”

Melgarves hesitated.

“I don't know. I think so, but I don't really remember. I've thought about it, of course, but I stayed there only a few seconds, and then I ran to catch up with the others. Not that they would have been what you might call desirable company.”

Van Veeteren thought it over.

“And she wasn't a prostitute?” he asked.

“Could be, but maybe not,” said Melgarves.

“How come you remember all this after thirty years?”

“I can understand why you ask me that. I suppose it's because of what happened the next day.”

“The next day? What happened then?”

“Well, it was as if something had happened. Innings was really the only one I was acquainted with, just a bit, and he didn't seem to be himself for a couple of days afterward. He just wasn't himself, somehow… He seemed to be evasive. I recall asking him what had happened to the girl, but he didn't answer.”

“What do you think happened?”

“I don't know,” said Melgarves. “I mean, we were demobbed the following day, and we had other things to think about.”

“Of course you had,” said Van Veeteren. “When exactly was this party can you remember that?”

“It must have been May twenty-ninth,” said Melgarves. “We were demobbed at the end of the month.”

“May 29, 1965,” said the chief inspector, and suddenly felt his temples pounding as he prepared to ask his next question.

And anticipated the answer. He cleared his throat.

“So, Malik, Maasleitner, and Innings,” he said. “Was there anybody else?”

“Yes,” said Melgarves. “There were four of them. That Biedersen was with them as well.”

“Biedersen?”

“Yes. He and Maasleitner were probably the ones behind it all. Biedersen rented a room in town as well.”

“A room in town?”

“Yes. For the last few months we were allowed permanent night leave, as they called it. In other words, we didn't need to be in our billets at night. Biedersen had a student room. He threw a few parties there, I gather, but I didn't go to any of them.”

The line started crackling something terrible, and the chief inspector was forced to bellow out his final questions in order to overcome the noise.

“These three, plus Werner Biedersen. Is that right?”

“Yes.”

“With a young woman?”

“Yes.”

“Did anybody else see this?”

“Could be. I don't know.”

“Have you spoken to anybody else about it? Then or now?”

“No,” said Melgarves. “Not as far as I recall, at least.”

Van Veeteren thought for a few more seconds.

“Many thanks,” he said eventually. “Thank you for some extremely useful information, Mr. Melgarves. I'll get back to you.”

He hung up.

Now, he thought. We're almost there.

“What the hell do you mean?” he roared ten minutes later. “Do we still not know where he is?”

Münster shook his head.

“Hell and damnation!” bellowed the chief inspector. “What about his wife?”

“Not at home,” Münster explained. “DeBries keeps on phoning all the time.”

“Where do they live?”

“Saaren.”

“Saaren?” said Van Veeteren. “Up north… it all fits in. How far is it to there? A hundred and fifty kilometers? Two hundred?”

“Something like that,” said Münster.

Van Veeteren took out four toothpicks. Broke them in two and threw the bits on the floor. Reinhart appeared in the doorway.

“Have we got him?” he asked.

“Got him?” roared Van Veeteren. “Have we hell! He's been off the map for several weeks, and his missus is out shopping!”

“But it is Biedersen?” said Reinhart.

“Biedersen,” said Münster. “Who's next, that is. Yes.”

“Have you got a cigarette?” asked Van Veeteren.

Reinhart shook his head.

“Afraid not. Just my old briar. What do we do now, then?”

The chief inspector clenched his hands and closed his eyes for two seconds.

“Okay,” he said, opening his eyes again. “This is what we do. Reinhart and I drive up to Saaren. The rest of you keep on chasing after his wife from here. If you find her, tell her to stay at home until we come, or she'll be jailed for life. Then we shall have to see what happens next.”

Reinhart nodded.

“Ask her if she knows where he is,” he added. “And keep us informed. We'll try to find her as well, of course.”

Münster made a note.

“So, we're off now,” said Van Veeteren, gesturing toward Reinhart. “Go down to the pool and collect a car. I'll be at the entrance five minutes from now. I just need to collect a few things first.”

“Are you sure that it's so damned urgent?” asked Reinhart when Van Veeteren had settled into the passenger seat.

“No,” said Van Veeteren, lighting a cigarette. “But when you've been in a straitjacket for seven weeks, I'll be damned if it isn't time to stretch a bit.”

He woke up with a start and fumbled for his pistol. Took hold of it and looked out the window. Noted that everything looked the same as before-except that the sun was shining.

He realized that it must be the sun that had warmed up the loft. He was lying just underneath the ceiling, but it wasn't at all the same all-pervading chill he'd experienced so far. On the contrary it was nice and warm-and it was a few minutes to ten.