Hans Lahlum - Chameleon People

I promised to ring her as soon as there was any news. We quickly agreed that the phone line should be kept open in case Miriam or anyone else tried to call. And then I was alone again in the world.

I stood by the window and looked out at the empty street. I had seen Miriam walking up here in her green raincoat many a time. I could just picture her. But she was not there now. There was no one to be seen at this time of evening.

Having stood there for a few minutes, I suddenly felt absolutely certain that I would never see Miriam walking up towards the house again. At the same time, I felt certain that she was alive, somewhere out in the rain and darkness, only I did not know who was holding her prisoner, or where – or how to find out.

At ten to eleven, the phone was still silent, the darkness just as dark and I was still just as restless. I did not know what to do with myself. But I knew that I had to do something. So I went out, got into the car and drove back to the station.

Danielsen was sitting in his office with the door open and jumped up when he saw me.

‘Any news?’ he asked.

I shook my head and said that I had neither seen nor heard anything from Miriam. I mentioned Patricia’s theory about the book, which could indicate that she had been preoccupied, and asked if he had found out what she had done during the day.

He nodded quickly.

‘There was not much information to be had from the halls of residence. But I did talk to a librarian on the telephone who knew your fiancée by sight. Miriam had come to the library a bit later than usual after the lecture, around half past twelve or oneish. Then she had sat and read some books that were still lying at her place. But the librarian thought she seemed restless, and thinks she left around half past two. They had not seen her at the SPP party office. So we know where she was until around half past two, but not where she was in those few hours until she called here.’

I thanked him for the information. Then I went to my office to telephone Patricia with the latest news on Miriam’s movements.

The telephone at Frogner was not answered. In my nervous state, I was taken aback by this, but then remembered that she had promised to get up early the next day and was probably asleep.

There was no more to be done at the station. I was still agitated and anything but tired, so I drove up to the student halls of residence.

This detour to the halls of residence was basically an emotional whim. I did not believe that I would find any evidence that Danielsen and the others had not found. But I did think that I might find inspiration if I went there again. And that I should talk to Katrine again.

Katrine opened the door as soon as I rang the bell, but only shook her head when she saw me. She had been sitting up and could not think about anything other than Miriam and what might have happened to her.

‘But something odd did happen,’ she said. ‘The phone in the hall rang at around ten o’clock, but I didn’t manage to answer in time. And then it rang again, but the voice only said “Miriam” – and then the person hung up when I said she wasn’t here. Perhaps I shouldn’t have said that, but it was so unexpected.’

I told her that it was fine, especially in a situation where Miriam’s disappearance was not yet an official case. The telephone call could of course have nothing to do with her disappearance. I asked Katrine all the same if she could say any more about the voice on the phone. She took her time and then said that it was not easy, as the person had only said one word. But she was fairly sure that it was a woman and someone she did not know.

I thanked her and once more promised to let her know as soon as there was any news of Miriam. Katrine said again how worried she was and assured me that she would stay where she was until the situation was clarified. I could see that she was close to tears and I so desperately wanted to say something that might comfort her, but I had nothing to say.

So I left and walked the route down to the bus stop alone this time. I could imagine Miriam, in her old green raincoat with the thick blue book, as though she was there in front of me. But this inspired no new ideas of what might have happened, even when I passed the spot where we had found the book in the ditch.

It was now nearly half past eleven, the road was dark and there was no one to be seen. I stood there alone at the edge of the road for a couple of minutes and looked up at the stars above. In that moment I wondered if there was a God or anyone else out there somewhere who knew what had happened.

As I stood there, I heard a car coming down the road and turned to look, to make sure that it did not hit me. It was a large car, possibly a van of sorts, but I was not able to see it in detail in the dark. I could make out the shadows of two people in the front and guessed that the large figure behind the wheel was a man and the smaller one in the passenger seat was a woman.

Just as the car passed, I caught a glimpse of the face of the person in the passenger seat. It was close enough to see, just as I lost my footing and fell into the ditch myself.

The passenger in the car was Patricia.

She was looking straight ahead and did not see me there by the side of the road in the dark. It looked as though she was talking to the person beside her, because her mouth was moving. Her expression was tense and grim, almost angry.

I stood there staring after the car until it disappeared into the dark – in the direction of Frogner. I suddenly felt more alone than I’d ever felt before. Miriam had been kidnapped and I no longer knew if I could trust Patricia.

I stood there for a few minutes more before walking unsteadily back to the car and driving home. It felt like the air was freezing, even though the rain was still pouring down.

As I walked up the stairs, I thought about how happy I would be if Miriam was now sitting in her usual place on the sofa. I would shout with joy, carry her around the flat like a trophy and never let her out of my sight again. But I knew there was no hope. I had seen that the flat was dark. And when I opened the door, I saw straightaway that the sofa was just as empty as when I had left the flat.

Just then the telephone started to ring. I rushed across the room, grabbed the receiver, but all I heard was the dialling tone. Everything felt jinxed that day.

I stood there for a couple of minutes wondering who might have called, but the possibilities were endless. It struck me as odd that someone had tried to ring me so late, which is perhaps why they did not wait long and I thought in particular of the telephones at the halls of residence. It was probably just a journalist or someone else who knew as little about the kidnapping as I did.

I did not want to sit down on the sofa. So instead I sat down on the chair opposite and reflected on what a terrible day it had been. The night before I had felt stressed enough, but that was nothing compared to the fear I now felt. Yesterday evening Miriam had been sitting here with me, and I had trusted Patricia one hundred per cent. Now I no longer knew what to believe about Patricia and I had no idea where on earth Miriam was – if she was still alive.

I had stood here alone and feared for Miriam’s life once before, in connection with an earlier investigation. But then at least I knew where she was, what state she was in, and that she would have the best help she could get at the hospital. And I had known that the situation would be clearer the following day.

Now I did not know where Miriam was or how she was, and had no reason to believe that she was with anyone who wished her well. But the worst thing was the uncertainty. The thought that I might never know what had happened was petrifying.