Åke Edwardson - Sun and Shadow

The elevator was down below, so she took the stairs. Her footsteps echoed in the stairwell, a deeper sound than the ones she’d been used to every day at ho-At Kungshöjd.

She walked along Vasagatan to the little supermarket. The rain had eased off, with just a little moisture dripping from gutters. She moved closer to the curb and heard an engine behind her, one of several. But after a minute the same vehicle was still there, and she turned around and saw a police car driving slowly a few paces behind her. She resumed walking, but the car continued crawling along at the same speed. She turned to look again and tried to see who was driving, but she could only make out a dark silhouette behind the wheel.

Were they on the lookout for somebody or something? Why was the car going so slowly, following her? Suddenly the driver flashed his headlights, turned left, and drove back toward Vasaplatsen. She looked around to see if there were any more police cars in the vicinity, but couldn’t see any.

She went into the shop and bought the items on her list. Then paused at the tobacco counter, bought her magazine, and took the opportunity to snap up a packet of cola sweets, while she was there.

Spaghetti tasting of cola. The myth was about to become reality.

It had started raining again, so it didn’t matter which part of the pavement she walked on. The shopping bag was heavier than she’d expected, especially when she changed hands to punch in the door code for the main entrance. She could see a police car again in the corner of her left eye. It was coming up from Aschebergsgatan now; it passed over the crossroads and slowed down as it approached her. She kept her hand on the keypad. The car drove slowly past but she still couldn’t see the driver’s face, as he had lowered the sun visor. She watched the car drive away and noticed the taillights blink like two red eyes. At the end of the block, it turned and disappeared.

She got in the elevator.There were evidently a lot of police cars out this evening. Or was it the same car? A raid on some shady premises in Vasastan. Where the dregs of Gothenburg live. Social dropouts. Desperadoes. Chief inspectors. Doctors. Mad widows with fortunes acquired in mysterious circumstances. There was one of those on the same floor as Erik. Very old, but she doesn’t fool me, Erik had once said when they’d greeted her as she got out of the elevator. Sometimes you can hear noises from her apartment that sound like some kind of mass. Did you see her nails? No? Not surprising because she doesn’t have any. But what she does have is lots of strange visitors.

She’d actually shuddered at the time. She thought about that as she stepped out of the elevator and saw Mrs. Malmer’s dark-painted door.

Rosemary’s Baby. The thought came from nowhere. She was Rosemary, and had moved in, for good. Erik started making late-night visits to old Mrs. Malmer and she would start hearing rhythmic murmuring through the wall. One morning Erik would have a Band-Aid on his shoulder. Somebody would die a tragic death at his workplace. The chief of police. Erik would be promoted into his job. She would be introduced to Mrs. Malmer’s eccentric but very gentlemanly old friend and he would introduce her in turn to a new gynecologist, which could lead…

She’d opened the door to the apartment and the phone was ringing. She put down the shopping bag, kicked off her boots and took a couple of paces to the bureau in the hall where the telephone was.

“Hello?” She could hear her heavy breathing.

“Have you been running up the stairs?”

“Hi, Erik!”

“Is it good for you to run up the stairs? Or have you started doing gymnastics?”

“I took the elevator.”

“That can be strenuous.”

“Yes. I start imagining all the horrible things that might be going on in this building.”

“Old Mrs. Malmer?”

“Why mention her by name?” she asked, noting the tone of suspicion in her own voice. Good Lord!

“That was silly of me. I don’t want to scare you-”

“Stop now and tell me about your father. It sounds as if you’ve been able to relax a bit.”

“Maybe. He was critical again for a while and they did something new to his blood vessels, adjusted something. He’s resting now in the recovery ward.”

“Have you managed to talk to the doctors yet?”

“Are you kidding? You ought to know better than anybody how impossible that is. The world over.”

She thought about the complaints that had been directed at her earlier that day. About her never being there.

“Don’t be too hard on us,” she said.

“Dad isn’t complaining, and that’s the main thing,” he said. “How are things otherwise?”

“I had the classic longing for anchovies and rushed out into the rain and was shadowed by your colleagues.”

“Shadowed? By the crime unit? They can’t have been all that discreet, then.”

“What are you saying? Is it something that you’re behind?”

“Eh? I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

“Being shadowed. By the crime unit.”

“Do you really feel you’re being shadowed by the crime unit?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You said precisely that just now.”

“I said I was being shadowed by your colleagues. I meant the police.”

She could hear the sigh all the way from the Costa del Sol.

“Let’s start again from the beginning,” he said. “Tell me again. I’ll listen and I won’t say a word.”

“I went out shopping and a police car followed me. Slowly. All the way. When I stopped to see if that really was what it was doing it flashed its headlights and turned off down a side street.”

Winter said nothing.

“When I came back and was about to go through the main door a police car appeared again and drove slowly past, in the same way,” Angela went on. ‘And after it had passed, it flashed its lights again. The taillights this time.“

“Was that all?”

“Yes. For God’s sake, I expect they were keeping somewhere under observation, or whatever you say. It must have been a coincidence. I said it mainly as a joke.”

“Ha, ha.”

“Yes, funny, wasn’t it?”

“Did you get the license plate number? Or numbers if there were two cars?”

“Of course. I noted everything down right away on the inside of my eyelid.” She laughed. “I’m afraid not. I didn’t go to police academy.”

“Well… I don’t know what to say.”

“Forget it. It was a coincidence, of course. Always assuming that you haven’t… haven’t put somebody on to keeping a discreet watch on me, to make sure I’m all right while you’re away.”

“It doesn’t seem to be all that discreet.”

“Well, have you?”

“Are you joking?”

“I’m not sure.”

“I don’t have the power to do anything like that. Not yet, at least.”

“But soon, perhaps?”

“What do you mean?”

“If something happens to your boss? The chief of police. What’s his name?”

“Birgersson. What are you talking about, Angela?”

“Nothing.” She laughed again. “I’m just talking in my sleep, as it were. Or in my daydreams.” Not a sound from the Costa del Sol. “Hello? Are you still there, Erik?”

“This is a very odd conversation.”

“It’s my fault. I’m sorry. I still feel an outsider in this building, even though I’ve been here so often for so many years. But it’s different now. And I suppose it’s really to do with me wanting you back at home again. As quickly as possible. As soon as your dad’s better.”

“We must keep hoping.”

“It might take time.”

“If he has any time left.”

“It sounds as if he has.”

“Now you’d better fix those anchovies.”