Karin Fossum - I Can See in the Dark

‘I think I’ve got the right to have my lawyer present,’ I protested.

Randers sent me a broad, agreeable grin.

‘Why yes, you have,’ he conceded. ‘But de Reuter is busy elsewhere, so there’s just you and me. Let’s try to get a bit of momentum into this case; that will reduce the length of remand. And that’s what you want, isn’t it? To get it all over quickly? Shall we begin?’

I made no reply. I tried to understand the extraordinary situation I found myself in, and attempted to rise above it, but it didn’t work. Randers seemed so certain, and that made me deeply nervous, I’d never met a man with so much self-confidence. He knew something, something I’d overlooked, but I couldn’t fathom what it was. I felt a little off balance and continually perplexed. Randers now had control over everything. Over the questions he would ask, the time it would take until I was again led back to my austere cell.

‘You chose to work with old people,’ he began. ‘You chose to use your nurse’s training on the most sick and helpless patients. Tell me why that was.’

I folded my hands on the table, while a heaviness spread through my whole body. I thought about Arnfinn constantly, and whether they’d find him beneath the rhododendron bush I’d planted on the small mound of earth, if they went to the house. And how I’d explain what had happened.

‘I have a special way with the elderly,’ I said. ‘Not just the elderly, but people who are close to death. Those are the patients we take. I understand their requirements and their care needs. And I like the work at Løkka. It’s a quiet, peaceful place, most of the time at least. Not like the bustle of an accident and emergency department, or a large hospital.’

‘A special way,’ Randers said, scratching his chin. ‘I see. You know what they need? Well, it’s really wonderful you’ve got these talents. So, if I sent my old mum in, she’d be in safe hands with you?’

He looked directly at me.

‘In the very best of hands,’ I said, and returned his gaze.

‘And this talent for caring, how do you deploy it?’

I had to think. I had to weigh my mendacious words. ‘I like making a difference to people’s lives,’ I explained. ‘I like to feel significant, because I believe I am.’

‘You’re often in their rooms,’ said Randers. ‘Your colleagues mentioned that. Are you the type of nurse who likes sitting by patients’ bedsides? I mean, the sort we have so few of?’

He adjusted the lamp on the table a little. The light fell on my face, and I felt the heat from it.

‘Yes, I do like that.’

‘But have you got time? People who work with the elderly are always complaining that they don’t have enough time. I’m only asking because of what I’ve read. According to the newspapers, you’re almost too rushed to get your patients out of bed in the mornings.’

‘I don’t hang around the ward office, like a lot of the others,’ I said. ‘My job would be meaningless if I weren’t able to give them that bit of extra care. I’d have thrown in the towel and done something completely different. And anyway, hardly any of them even leave their beds. They’re too ill for that.’

Randers took notes. He sat biting the top of his pen then glanced up at me with narrowed eyes.

‘You’ve never started a family, Riktor. Was it a conscious decision?’

‘It’s just the way things have turned out,’ I explained. ‘Relationships and family life aren’t easy for me. It must be a talent I haven’t got.’

I stared down at the floor. He was getting close to my sore spot, that I’d never had a woman. Never in all my miserable life had I had a woman.

‘But what about children, Riktor? Someone as caring as you. Don’t you miss children?’

‘I don’t want children,’ I said. ‘Not at any price. I mean, you can never escape them once they’re born, it’s an endless responsibility. And I like being in control. There’s a lot wrong with living alone,’ I added, ‘but I can at least do what I want with my days and nights. I’m in charge of all the plans and decisions. I can go out when I like, and there’s no one expecting me back.’

‘In other words, no one places any demands on you.’

‘Correct,’ I said. ‘It’s called freedom.’

‘Or loneliness,’ he said. ‘But, OK. I can understand that. Would you say that you had a special relationship with Nelly Friis?’

I thought for some time, mulling the matter over a little.

‘I’ve got a special relationship with every one of my patients. And I regard them as adults and individuals deserving dignity. If I’d considered a mercy killing, I wouldn’t have chosen Nelly Friis. I’d have chosen Barbro Zanussi. Barbro lives in a torment of pain, she lies groaning all day long, it’s a strain on everybody.’

‘So the person who killed Nelly did it out of kindness. Is that what you think?’

I nodded. ‘And so do you. Such angels of death do occasionally turn up in old people’s homes and institutions. I’ve read about them in the papers, strange, distracted characters who are drawn to such work. But we only have one angel on our ward. That’s Sister Anna Otterlei, and she’s completely flawless.’

‘What’s your attitude to death, Riktor? Can you tell me a bit about that?’

‘I’m painfully aware of it,’ I said, ‘and I see it happening to others. But I keep hoping it won’t happen to me.’

Randers chuckled and wrote. I sat thinking about our conversation, and then wondered if my house was being turned upside down. There were some muffled thumping noises from out in the corridor, a voice and a door slamming.

‘So how did Nelly Friis die?’ I asked after a long silence.

Randers lowered his pen. He sat looking at me for a time, then clasped his hands on the table.

‘The post-mortem showed that she’d been suffocated. She had blood leakage in her eyes. There were tooth marks on the inner surface of her upper lip, something that occurs when a lot of pressure is applied to the mouth. Her nose had been pressed down hard. Considerable force was used.’

‘Nobody said anything about that at the time,’ I objected. ‘Dr Fischer pronounced her dead. There were no suspicions of that sort, no discussion. I don’t understand how this has arisen in the first place. If I was the suspect, why didn’t they say that immediately?’

‘You need time to build up a case,’ Randers said. ‘And now at last we’ve got a case. How are you feeling?’ he asked all of a sudden. ‘Obviously it’s quite a strain being questioned, with such a grave charge hanging over one’s head.’

‘It’s no strain on me,’ I said staunchly. ‘Because I didn’t kill Nelly Friis. I’m completely innocent.’

Randers was calm and collected, he was buoyant and self-assured, one of those thoroughly successful types. And I really did wonder what evidence he had. Surely they couldn’t condemn me on mere assumptions?

Although I’m reasonably articulate and did quite well in this first interview, it was a relief to be escorted back to my cell. Janson locked the door behind me, and I immediately sat down at the window. I laid my arm on the desk in front of me and looked at my own hand, and the way it was slightly flexed. It was as if time were standing still. All sounds from the block seemed far away, and I tried to relax. But my thoughts kept racing the whole time, like a mill churning incessantly, round and round.

What was really happening?

After a while I stretched out on the bed, with my hands cradling my head. I tried to breathe calmly. I imagined the park by Lake Mester, which I missed so sorely, its splashing water, its green benches. Woman Weeping and Woman Laughing . Ebba’s crocheting needle flashing in the sunlight. I thought about Anna’s brother, who was still at the bottom of the lake. Perhaps the eels had gnawed deep holes in the dissolving flesh. And eaten his eyes. Occasionally I dozed. But all the time a part of me was waiting for Janson’s key.