Hans Lahlum - Chameleon People

A pad with notes from her lectures was on the desk, but it only served to confirm that Miriam had been to the morning lecture on Norwegian language history. Beside it was a pile of novels and course books. There was nothing else lying around, and nothing was missing, as far as I could see. Her school satchel, which she had had since primary school and to which she was so charmingly and childishly attached, was standing on the floor by the desk.

It had been cloudy but dry when Miriam had left. According to Katrine she was wearing her green raincoat and was carrying the thick blue book as well as a large white envelope, but no bags or anything to indicate that she was intending to go any further than mine.

I said we should go out and see if we could find any clues on the way to the bus. Katrine nodded silently and turned towards the front door.

There was a light wind outside and it was now drizzling. Katrine’s long blonde hair was caught by the wind and her slim body was shaking. We said nothing, just walked in silent concentration along the well-known path to the bus stop, which was about two hundred yards away. Miriam had walked here a thousand times, often reading as she walked. There was no possibility whatsoever that she had got lost, despite her hopeless sense of direction.

Katrine and I walked slowly and kept our eyes open for anything unusual. We got to the main road without seeing anything out of the ordinary. And there was nothing of interest in the first few yards along the pavement.

It was just as we rounded the bend, barely thirty yards from the bus stop, that Katrine suddenly grabbed my arm and shouted: ‘Look! There! In the ditch!’

I felt how violently her hand was shaking on my arm, and wondered if I might see Miriam lying dead in the earth when I turned around. I stood paralysed by fear for a few moments before I could see anything at all.

Miriam was still nowhere to be seen, either alive or dead. But I knew what Katrine meant straightaway. And this confirmed beyond all doubt that something terrible must have happened.

At the bottom of the ditch, between two stones, in a small puddle of water, lay the thick blue book with a library bookshelf reference on the spine.

I stepped down into the ditch and carefully picked up the book. I had recognized it as soon as I saw it. And there was only one possible explanation as to how it had ended up here. It was unthinkable that Miriam had thrown the library book down or dropped it and walked on without noticing.

‘Someone has kidnapped Miriam,’ I heard myself saying. It sounded so calm and controlled but I felt anything but. In fact, it felt more like I was standing in the middle of an earthquake, my head full of chaos and the ground shaking under my feet.

I heard a faint sobbing beside me and realized that it must be Katrine. Then I heard my own voice saying that I would accompany her back to the halls of residence. I then asked her to stay put and not to panic, and I would inform the police at the station.

I was back at the station by ten to eight. My boss had been on his way home when I arrived, but immediately turned around without protest when I told him that something very serious had happened.

I stopped and thought for a moment outside my office door. Then without being able to explain why, I went over to Danielsen’s office and asked him to come in too. It somehow felt safer to have more people to talk to. Danielsen was the one who had taken the telephone call from Miriam. And as soon as I saw him I realized that he could have been the last person to have spoken to her alive.

Danielsen looked a little surprised, but got up as soon as I said I would like him to come to an important meeting.

We sat round the table in my office and I told them in short what had happened. A heavy silence descended in the room. My boss’s face did not so much as twitch.

For the first time, I felt a good deal of support from Danielsen. ‘How terrible if criminals have started to kidnap policemen’s nearest and dearest,’ he said with unexpected feeling.

We both looked at the boss, who hesitated for a while at first and then spoke very slowly and deliberately.

‘This is a very difficult situation, for several reasons. Normally, we would not start a search when someone has only been missing for a couple of hours, and it could well provoke unfavourable reactions if it becomes known that we have done so in the case of a leading policeman’s fiancée. But the circumstances undeniably give us reason to fear the worst…’

He stopped talking. Then he asked, in a quieter voice: ‘Has she shown any signs of depression or other illness recently? I am sorry that I have to ask, but desperate young women have done stranger things than throw away books in a ditch before committing suicide.’

For a moment I wondered if Miriam would really have been that desperate if she had heard that I had been to see Patricia. And if, then, I could live with that. But again I found it unthinkable that she would do anything like that. So I replied, in a firm and controlled manner, that Miriam had not shown any signs of being mentally unbalanced, and had to the contrary been happy and full of life in the past few days. And even though I had been working long hours, we had not had any arguments.

My boss and I now both looked at Danielsen. ‘That was more or less how she sounded on the telephone. It was a short conversation and she seemed full of life, if a little agitated, but in no way desperate or depressed,’ he said, to the point.

My boss nodded. ‘Then we shall consider this to be exceptional circumstances and start an investigation immediately without raising the alarm publicly quite yet. Kristiansen, you continue with your own investigation as before. Danielsen will lead the investigation into Miriam’s disappearance. We can discuss the matter again in the morning and update each other as and when necessary.’

I was too exhausted, too scared and too bewildered to protest. So we both said in short that we agreed. Then my boss stood up and left.

I wrote down the necessary facts, and the names and addresses of family and friends for Danielsen. I said that there was probably not much to be found where the book had fallen or at the halls of residence, but that the places should of course be searched. Then I asked him to pass on my sympathies to Miriam’s parents and to be gentle in his dealings with them.

He promised to do this. We shook each other almost warmly by the hand before he left.

Once I was alone in the office, I sat there looking at the telephone for a few seconds. My head was in turmoil. I could only remember two telephone numbers. One was Miriam’s number at the halls of residence. The other was Patricia’s. And I thought that no matter how strange it felt, there was no one other than Patricia I could turn to for help in finding my Miriam.

She picked up the telephone on the second ring, and with unusual calm, said: ‘What has happened? Are you all right?’

Her concern for me was heart-warming in the situation. I quickly replied: ‘Someone has kidnapped Miriam.’

There was silence on the other end for a few tense seconds. Then Patricia said: ‘Goodness, what on earth do they want with her?’

I felt anger bubbling up, before I realized that the question would actually be decisive in our search for the kidnappers. Patricia also pulled herself together, and hastily added: ‘I mean, either it must be because she has discovered something important herself, or to have some kind of leverage over you. I sincerely hope that it is the latter.’

Without thinking, I asked why she hoped this. The answer was like being punched in the stomach.

‘Because that would increase the chances that your fiancée is still alive.’