Hakan Nesser - Mind's eye

“How long did that go on for?” Munster asked.

“Two or three years, I’d have thought. He seems to be a bit vague about exactly when it began. Most likely it was just as strong on both sides for quite a long time. I think Eva eventually managed to escape from it-not because she really wanted to, but because she knew it was wrong. Forbidden.

Impossible to keep going.”

“But for him it was just as impossible to stop,” said Munster.

Van Veeteren lit a cigarette.

“Yes, but she rejected him. What went on in that household, both while the father was still alive and afterward. .

well, I’d rather not think about it, Munster.”

“And then there was Paul Bejsen,” said Munster.

“Yes. Perhaps it was no more than an attempt from her side; I don’t think she was really in love with him. She probably took him to demonstrate that what had been was now over and done with, beyond recall. And Rolf, well, he. .”

“Bided his time,” said Munster.

“You could say that, yes,” said Van Veeteren. “He waited for an opportunity to show how serious he was. And when that party took place, he saw his chance.”

“He waited out there on the moor,” said Munster.

“Exactly. Wandered around in the darkness hoping for an opportunity. Like a werewolf, almost.”

“Did he tell you all this as well?”

Van Veeteren nodded.

“Yes. Telegram style, mind you. That was almost twenty years ago. The statutory limitation is twenty-one years-so we’d be able to prosecute him for that murder as well, if anybody thought there was any point in doing so.”

“And Eva forced him to go away?”

“Yes. She gave him an ultimatum. Either he disappeared or she would turn him in. Put yourself in his situation, Munster.

He committed murder, not only because he was jealous, but also to demonstrate how strong his love was. And she rejected him. I think he came close to committing suicide during those months; he hinted as much. And during the early part of his exile as well. Perhaps. .”

“. . it would have been just as well,” said Munster, finishing the sentence for him.

“Have we any right to think that?” Van Veeteren asked.

“Have we?”

Munster made no reply. Glanced at his watch. A quarter to six.

“What time does the plane leave? Half past seven?”

Van Veeteren nodded.

“I have to check in an hour in advance.”

“We’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

Neither of them spoke for a few seconds, but Munster could sense that they needed to go through everything.

“What about this Ellen Caine?” he said.

“Ah, yes,” said Van Veeteren. “He got by for eight years-

pretty remarkable, that, to say the least, but he got a grip on himself. Settled down in Toronto, drifted from one job to another, but kept himself afloat. Until he met a woman. He claims she was the one who went running after him, rather than the other way around, and that’s probably right. In any case, she was unable to give him a fraction of what he received from Eva. God only knows what goes through his mind when it comes to sex and women, Munster. But he demands the impossible, because he has experienced the impossible. Then he killed Ellen Caine because she let him down. I don’t know if she left him, he didn’t want to speak about that. Perhaps he couldn’t cope with being a lover, perhaps there was an ele-ment of good old honest jealousy involved. Anyway, he killed her. Threw her off a viaduct in the path of a long-distance truck. It never occurred to anybody that it was anything but an accident, or possibly suicide. Nobody knew he was anywhere in the vicinity.”

“Why did he change his name?”

“I think he’d started to think about coming back to Europe with a new identity. As early as that, after the Ellen business. In 1980 or thereabouts. He moved to New York, in any case, became an American citizen after a few years, and changed his name to Carl Ferger. He seems to have led a more or less normal life. Superficially, at least. But nevertheless, it’s a riddle, Munster. What made him come back here in January 1986?

Not even he can give an explanation.”

“The determinant, perhaps?” said Munster with a faint smile.

“What?” exclaimed Van Veeteren in surprise. “God Almighty, I do believe Inspector Munster has begun to catch on to a few things! Whatever, he came back here, tracked down Eva, and started pestering her. In every possible way, no doubt. Presumably the very fact of suddenly being in her vicinity became more or less unbearable for him. That’s what he says, at least. Naturally, he was extremely jealous of Berger; but the worst thing was the child. The fact that she’d had a child with somebody else. Ah well, everything is in a hell of a mess now, Munster.”

“So he kills the child in order to punish her?”

“Yes, I think so. His concept of his ego seems to oscillate between an all-powerful god of retribution and a desperate young boy trying to cope with puberty and a lack of identity.”

“What about after that murder?”

“Eva protected him again, despite the fact that she was starting to go out of her mind herself. I think this is the point when she gave up on her life, when she realized that nothing could ever be normal. Maybe she also recognized that the bond between her and Rolf was stronger than she had imagined. Sexually as well. They resumed their forbidden relationship several times over those years. He lived in France-she didn’t want to have him too close-but she occasionally paid him a visit. That’s what he says, at least. Perhaps he imagined that everything would turn out as he wanted in the end, perhaps she breathed life back into his hopes.”

“But instead, she discarded him again.”

Van Veeteren nodded.

“She moved here. A new beginning. Maybe she didn’t tell him where she’d gone, but he tracked her down, of course. He even managed to get a job at the same school eventually. It must have been a nasty shock for her when the headmaster introduced the new school janitor.”

“Was that this year?”

“Yes, in January. The beginning of term after the Christmas holidays.”

“And so she married Mitter just to show him the way things stood?”

Van Veeteren sighed.

“Yes, could be. Perhaps she was just as mad as he was. I had the impression from Mitter that their relationship was something that exceeded his comprehension. That their lovemaking was a matter of life or death all the time. Well, something along those lines, I think.”

“Why did he kill her instead of Mitter?”

“I think it was an impulse, something he did on the spur of the moment. Possibly an attempt to get rid of the awful circumstances once and for all. Whatever, it was all a series of accidents, pure chance. The fact that Mitter was so drunk that he lost his memory was not something Ferger had anticipated, of course. He’d expected Mitter to say that Ferger had been with them earlier that evening, but was confident that there was nothing to indicate that he’d returned later and murdered her. He must have wondered why on earth he heard nothing from the police.”

Van Veeteren shook his head.

“Six murders,” he said. “I thought there were four, or possibly five. But there were six.” He paused, and gazed out the window into the darkness.

“What do you think it is,” he asked, “that makes his mother want to keep on living? Why the hell doesn’t she take her own life? Or just lie down and die?”

Munster thought for a moment.

“Hamlet? Too scared?”

“No. You’ve met her.”

“Is she religious?”

Van Veeteren couldn’t help laughing.

“What sort of a god would allow your husband to mistreat and degrade you, your children to indulge in incest, your son to murder your daughter. .”