Карин Фоссум - The Whisperer

‘The dog,’ he said with a nervous smile as he pointed at the Rottweiler. ‘Will it bite me?’

A flood of thoughts and suspicions rushed through her head. Her mind was working overtime to make everything fit, a logical explanation for what was happening, for all the things that had been happening for a long time now. There had to be a logical explanation. That face, she thought, those black eyes, she had seen them before. Not just in the aisles of Europris, she had also come across him in another context. Her hand kept a firm hold of the door. She saw that he had a folder under his arm, that must be where the explanation lay. She undid the security chain and opened the door a bit further. The Agent took a step back. And a new explanation overrode everything else in her head. She realised why he had come. He had forgotten the Casio watch at the till. Perhaps he thought she had taken it home with her. Had he come to collect it? But then how did he know where she lived? She opened the door a little wider, it was almost halfway now. He took a step closer again, looked past her and into the hall for the Rottweiler. She wanted to tell him that the watch was lying in its white box at the shop, but he spoke before she could.

‘I have good news for you,’ he said.

He was very enthusiastic now, the half-open door had encouraged him, and there was a vigour to his young body and a light in his eyes.

‘News?’ She frowned. Had something happened to Rikard after all? Her letters had been returned, and she was quite sure something was going on down there in Berlin. She did not open her mouth, but just stood there staring. He would have to do the talking.

‘Do you have a minute or two to spare?’ he asked. ‘I have something important to tell you. But the dog...’ He squirmed. ‘Does it attack people?’

He pointed at the Rottweiler on the wall again, and forced a laugh, but she held her mask.

‘Only if I ask him to,’ she whispered.

Her cheeks were getting cold. The snow was drifting into the house and, as she breathed it into her lungs, she felt every cell in her body freeze. He was no doubt cold too. He had no winter jacket on over his suit, which actually looked rather cheap close up. The material was shiny with wear in places, and it was too big for him, the sleeves were too long. The jacket was not buttoned. He did not appear to have much muscle and he was no taller than her. But those eyes, she thought again, so deep in their sockets, they wanted something. She had seen the same inscrutable look so many times when the Jumper stood up after his fall. She realised that he would never get up again, that the last jump had been too much. She studied the Agent in more detail. There was a unique intensity to his voice, a faint trembling, and his hands fidgeted as he held the brown folder. His nails were incredibly long, she had never seen a man with nails like that, they were thick, yellow and pointed. She had revealed her secret now, the fact that she had no voice. She was not sure he remembered the moment when she gave him the receipt for the watch and whispered that it was also a guarantee. She guessed he was like most people and would continue to talk nervously when there was no response, there was something intimidating about people who did not speak. Those who just watched and waited. It dawned on her that she was wearing the green overall from Europris. She often hung it on the back of a chair and put it on when she could not be bothered to look for anything else. Her grip on the door handle was so tight that the tension spread up her arm.

‘News?’ she said finally. ‘What kind of news?’

He leaned forward in order to hear her better, he was now less than a metre from her face. She had asked a question — that was an invitation, he could go on.

‘It’s cold,’ he said, and shivered.

It was obvious that he wanted to come into the warmth. Ragna stared at his long nails, his unbuttoned jacket. If he jumped from a great height, it would flutter like the wings of a bird.

‘Your watch,’ she whispered, ‘we kept it to one side.’

He did not understand, shook his head.

‘Watch?’

‘The Casio watch you bought at Europris. You left it by the till.’

‘Oh yes,’ he exclaimed. ‘The watch!’

He nodded several times and suddenly seemed like a normal, polite young man with no hidden intentions.

‘The watch was a Christmas present for my brother,’ he explained, ‘I’ve been looking for it all over. I’ll come and get it tomorrow.’

She immediately regretted mentioning it. Now they shared something, the start of a conversation, there was recognition. It would be hard to interrupt that now. She should have closed the door straight away, or she should not have opened it at all.

‘Your doorbell doesn’t work,’ he said, nodding at it. He had obviously pressed the bell several times. ‘Something must have happened to it. A broken wire, or something. Or is it battery-powered?’

She did not answer. Just stood in the doorway and waited.

‘I’ve been here a couple of times before, and it worked then. But you didn’t come to the door.’

‘I know you’ve been here before,’ she said.

‘So you heard me then? Well, I guess it doesn’t always suit. You’re not obliged to open the door to everyone.’

She wondered if he thought he was more special than others who might ring at the door.

‘What’s your news?’ she asked again.

She closed the door a touch, felt he was taking too long to say why he was there.

‘Why don’t I come in for a moment?’ he suggested. ‘It’s so cold outside. I’ve got the papers here.’ He pointed at his folder. ‘We could look at them inside.’

‘Papers?’ she said.

He made a show of shivering, his cheeks were white with cold. Goodness, it could absolutely be the case that Rikard was dead, she thought again. The Agent was a lawyer, of course, he had come to tell her about the will. The flat in Landsberger Allee and perhaps some other things she knew nothing about.

‘What’s in the folder?’ she wanted to know.

He did not hear her and she had to try again.

‘Your folder?’ she repeated, and pointed.

‘A unique chance,’ he replied, full of enthusiasm. ‘A fantastic opportunity!’

‘Opportunity? Are you selling something?’

‘Not at all!’

He shook his head.

‘This is something you can have for free.’

Dear God, his black eyes pinned her to the spot. Ragna pulled her overall tighter, held the slippery green material close to her body. She put one foot out on the step, so that he would pull back, then peered down towards the road.

‘You don’t have a car?’ she said.

‘Oh yes, but I parked it further down Kirkelina, at the turning place. The snow wasn’t cleared here.’

She tried to think quickly, looked down towards the road again. No cars, no people, no one had seen him standing there at her door. A fantastic opportunity, he had said, a unique chance. And it was free.

He followed her in. Down the hall and into the kitchen. He was extremely polite, bowing and grovelling like a servant. He had said he was not a salesman, but he behaved like one. He had something to offer, good solutions, intelligent suggestions as to how she could change her life, possible profits, wise investments, or a product that would give her improved health, or supplements, or a share in a house in Spain, her imagination ran away with her. The fact that she had invited him in did something to him. The besuited young man seemed to change gear, his movements were quicker, filled with a new energy. He had had a plan all along, she realised, and now he was going to put it into action.

‘And the dog?’ he asked, again, as he glanced nervously into the living room as they passed.