Hakan Nesser - Mind's eye

Munster hesitated.

“I don’t know. Perhaps she is punishing herself-by carrying on living, I mean.”

Van Veeteren turned to look at Munster.

“Excellent,” he said in surprise. “Well done, Munster! I shall have to remember not to underestimate you in the future.”

“Thank you,” said Munster. “We’re nearly at the airport.

There was just one more thing.”

“Well?”

“I’d be grateful if you could send a card, sir. For the sake of the stamp. My boy has started collecting stamps. . ”

“Of course,” said Van Veeteren.

Munster parked the car and took out the bags.

“So, I’ll see you in January,” said Van Veeteren.

“The end of January,” said Munster. “I’m taking two weeks’ vacation after New Year’s.”

“Good for you, Munster! Where are you going?”

“The Maldives,” said Munster, smiling modestly.

“Excellent, Munster,” said Van Veeteren, shaking his hand.

“But keep in form. I’m not going to be easy to handle when I get back.”

“I know,” said Munster.

The woman grabbed him by the arm.

What now, for Christ’s sake? Ingrun thought. He had just sat down and lit a cigarette. Why could they never leave him in peace?

“What do you want?” he said, trying to shake his arm free.

Her nails were digging into him.

“Luke, chapter 15, verse 11!” she hissed.

“Eh?”

“Luke, 15:11! I was going to read the Bible, and found that somebody’s been scribbling in it!”

He saw that she was holding a Bible in her other hand.

Brandishing it, with a bony index finger stuck inside it.

“Let me see!”

She let go of his arm. Opened the Bible and handed it to him. Right across one of the pages was written in large, bold letters: Carl Ferger.

“God will never forgive that!” she cried in anguish, wring-ing her hands.

Ingrun hesitated for a moment. Then he tore out the page and threw it into the waste bin.

“Read something else!” he said, closing the Bible.