Karin Fossum - I Can See in the Dark

‘But surely she can’t run?’ I put in.

‘Oh, no, I doubt she’ll ever do that. But just imagine the feeling of standing on your own legs at last, and being able to walk with your mother to the park. Just imagine it!’

For a while I sat immersed in my own thoughts. I believed I could glimpse the outline of a pattern which until now had been hidden. And I was a tiny part of this complicated weft, perhaps an insignificant part, like one thread in a net. And Ebba and Miranda were too, and the big black man from the Reception Centre, Lill Anita, and Arnfinn, whom I’d clubbed to death. We were simply minute pawns, and we were being moved about. The notion that some other being had an overarching plan for me and my affairs sent a shiver down my spine, a being I could neither glimpse nor control.

‘Can you see the sanatorium from your window?’ Ebba wanted to know. ‘My husband spent a month there as a patient many years ago. Lots of people say it’s haunted.’

‘Yes,’ I said, ‘I’ve heard that. How stupid can you get. As if the dead could be bothered to moon about, once they’ve finally got free of this world.’

‘It’s supposed to be haunted by a former nursing sister,’ Ebba explained. ‘At night you can hear creakings from doors and stairways. Witnesses have seen a bluish light in the corridor, something icy cold that stands there flickering, it’s quite inexplicable. But, you know, there’s lots of wood in that old building, so it’s not surprising that there are noises, the timbers are affected by the weather, and a house is a living organism. And then there’s static electricity. Nature is full of forces. Who’s looking after your house?’ she enquired suddenly.

‘No one,’ I replied. ‘And I worry about it.’

She reached down to find a handkerchief in her bag, and sat there with it in her hand.

‘Yes, my husband’s dead,’ she announced. ‘It’s fifteen years ago now. He suffered another major embolism only a year after his first one, and we didn’t get to the hospital in time. But I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to go on about my own affairs. I can help you as regards your house,’ she said. ‘We’ve got a volunteer service, and they take on jobs like that.’

I thought of Arnfinn’s grave.

‘No,’ I said, ‘it’ll be all right. It won’t be long before they give me some leave, and there’s not much that needs doing. The lawn’s wild anyway, and the house is in good order.’

She took another lozenge.

‘How do you pass the time? Do the days hang heavy? I imagine the nights must be worst. I mean, the loneliness. And the dark. The worry, all those thoughts. And perhaps an uncertain future.’

‘I’ve certainly got quite a lot to think about,’ I said. ‘And the ones who’ve brought this charge will have plenty to think about, too, when they realise they’ve arrested the wrong man. But I’m certain the truth will out. I mean, I believe in justice. I have to believe in it, or I wouldn’t be able to keep going.’

I looked into Ebba’s earnest face. She had some lines and wrinkles, slightly pendulous jowls, and her hair was grey, all signs that she’d been around a long time and that the years had set their mark upon her. She sucked eagerly at her lozenge, sat on the edge of her chair, all attention; someone had taught her the art of listening, or perhaps she had a natural gift for it.

‘How often can you come?’ I asked, needy as a small child.

‘Ah,’ she said, prevaricating. ‘I have several people to visit. But possibly every other week, if I can manage it. How does that strike you? Every fortnight, Riktor? You needn’t feel we have to meet. I’ll only come when you want me to, not if you don’t. Then we’ll see how things go on from there, I’m sure it’ll work out.’

She crossed one leg over the other, their length showing to advantage.

‘Guess what happened yesterday,’ she blurted out suddenly.

‘Go on,’ I said.

‘Some divers found a body at the bottom of Lake Mester. They were amateurs, and it must have given them quite a shock. At first they thought it was a rotten tree trunk. But it turned out to be a man, and he’d been there some time. He’d gone missing at the beginning of April, isn’t that terrible? Presumably he’d gone skiing and went through the ice. Then he must have thrashed about in the water, quite alone and helpless. But at least the poor soul will have a grave now, that must be a comfort to the family, don’t you think? But he must have been an awful sight. After so many months in the water.’

She clasped her hands in her lap. Her two gold rings glowed. Sunlight fell obliquely into the room and found us as we sat, each on our own chair, and slowly we were warmed through and through.

‘When does your case come up?’ she asked.

‘Oh, that could take some time. People often spend several months on remand. Some as much as a year, so it’ll be a bit of a wait.’

Something else came to her, and she became enthusiastic again.

‘D’you recall that elderly chap with the hip flask?’ she queried. ‘Who always sat on the bench drinking.’

‘Yes, I remember him well,’ I answered, in a somewhat subdued tone.

‘He’s completely disappeared,’ she said. ‘And the police have put him on the missing persons’ register.’

‘Oh?’ I said. ‘Missing? Disappeared?’

‘It seems he had a daughter who lives and works in Bangkok. She’s never had much contact with him, but there’s obviously been a few words now and again. Then, suddenly, he wasn’t answering the phone. Over a long period. Now she’s gone to the police, and they’ve started looking for him. There was a piece in the paper recently, with a picture, too. “Have you seen this man?” And I had, so many times. He’s been staggering around the park all these years, poor man. So I got in touch with the police.’

‘Did you phone?’ I asked inanely.

‘Yes, I phoned. You know, with what information I had. That he hung around the park and that sort of thing, just in case they didn’t know. You two had a certain amount of contact, didn’t you? Wasn’t he an acquaintance of yours?’

I almost shot up from my chair.

‘No, no!’ I countered rapidly. ‘Most certainly not. We weren’t acquainted at all!’

‘But I thought I saw the pair of you together a couple of times, over at your house. Did I make a mistake?’

‘Yes, that’s totally wrong. We never exchanged a word. I mean, I know who he is, but we never had anything to do with one another, I don’t know where you got that from! Did you really tell the police that we were acquainted?’

‘Oh, do forgive me,’ she said quickly, assuming a worried expression. She placed a hand in front of her mouth, and hung back a good while. ‘But I’m afraid I also told the police that I saw you together. You live in that red house at Jordahl, don’t you? The small house with the covered veranda?’

I nodded dumbly.

‘Yes, I’ve seen you there several times, you sometimes cut the grass in front of your house with a scythe. And I saw Mr Jagge up there at your house a few times, can I really have been so wrong?’

‘Mr Jagge?’ I queried uncomprehendingly.

‘Arnfinn Jagge,’ she replied. ‘That’s his name. I only mentioned it in passing to the police, that he was occasionally at your house at Jordahl. Of course, I didn’t know your name, but they knew the house. So it’s possible they may make contact with you in case you can tell them anything. I’m dreadfully sorry if this causes any difficulties for you. You see, I was so certain.’

She tried to settle herself again. But a deep furrow had appeared in her brow.

‘Maybe they’ve been to your house to ask about him,’ she reasoned, ‘not realising you’re in here; and the one hand doesn’t know what the other’s doing. That’s what it’s like in all government departments. It’s so strange when someone suddenly vanishes like that, don’t you think? But they’ll find him all right. One fine day. Even the man at the bottom of the lake was found eventually. Right tends to triumph in the end,’ she concluded.