Åke Edwardson - Never End

"The wall in the background looks the same," Halders said. "But we don't know that for sure. It could be a different one, couldn't it?" He looked around. "I'll find it," said Bergenhem, turning to look at Halders.

They were in Winter's office. Winter was pacing back and forth between the window and his desk. Ringmar was just sitting there.

"You look like you're on edge," he said.

"Do you see any cigarillos in here?"

"Actually, I don't."

"There's your explanation."

"Have you tried patches?"

Winter pulled up his shirt and displayed his stomach.

"Chewing gum?"

Winter opened his mouth.

"Exercise?"

"No time."

"Work?"

"Yes." He sat down. "Who was pointing that camera?"

"Do you think it's the same person? The same photographer?" Ringmar asked.

"We don't get that kind of luck."

"I take it that it was her own camera? Beatrice's. I assume the pictures were taken with her camera?"

"We're checking with a photography specialist. They might even be able to tell us the make of camera."

"Sounds difficult."

"And then?"

"Who was pointing it," Ringmar said.

"Maybe they were just taking pictures of each other," said Winter.

"Everybody says they didn't know each other."

"But they might have."

He'd shown the photo of Beatrice to Cecilia, Angelika's friend. She hadn't recognized her. Never seen her before.

"I don't claim to be an expert, but these pictures give the impression of having been taken by an amateur," said Ringmar.

They looked at each other. They knew there was no camera at Angelika's place. She'd had one, but they hadn't found it. They didn't know which lab had developed the pictures.

Beatrice's camera was still at her parents' house. In all probability the pictures they'd found there had been taken with that camera. They had the prints and they had the camera.

But who had taken the picture of Beatrice? Who had pointed her camera? Who had taken the picture of Angelika? Who had pointed the camera? What camera was it that time?

Halders and Djanali went to see the Bielkes again. The father looked disapproving but let them in. Jeanette came downstairs and they went out into the garden. Halders was in his shirtsleeves, Djanali was wearing a thin blouse. Jeanette looked as if she were freezing.

She examined the photographs Djanali handed her. The wall behind Angelika, the same wall behind Beatrice.

"I recognize the black girl, but she's been in all the papers," she said. "Is in. They're still writing about it a lot."

Halders nodded.

"Why are you showing me these?"

"Because you might be able to help us to find that club they're at, or whatever it is." Halders took back one of the pictures. "We don't go out clubbing every night."

"Really? I thought you knew all about the clubs and bars in Gothenburg."

"Not this one. We're looking, but we haven't found it yet."

"Keep looking," she said.

"That wall's quite an unusual feature."

"Never seen it before."

"Have you ever been to an unlicensed club, Jeanette?"

"Eh?" She looked at Djanali, who had asked the question. "What did you say?"

"An unlicensed club. There are lots of them in Gothenburg. Have you ever been to one?"

"No."

"But you've heard about places like that?"

"Yes."

"From whom?"

"What do you mean?"

"How have you heard about them?"

"I can read. They write about those places."

"Do you know anybody who's been to one?" Djanali asked.

"No."

"Do you know anybody who's spoken about them?"

"No."

"You've only read about them."

"Yes."

"Do you know any names?" asked Halders.

"How would I know that?"

"That night you were attacked. You hadn't gone to one of those places?"

"What is all this?" she said. "How long are you going to keep at me?"

"I'll be absolutely honest with you, Jeanette." Halders gave her as stern a look as he could manage. "Spell it out. The fact is that when somebody's been through something as awful as you have… they're frightened of appearing in a bad light. After what happened. Some don't want to say they'd been drinking. Or gone off with somebody they shouldn't have gone with. Or been somewhere they shouldn't have been."

"Such as an illegal club."

"Yes."

"But that doesn't apply to me. I wasn't there."

Jeanette caught sight of a sparrow hopping over the lawn. The sun hit the sparrow and made it look like a little flame. It flew up and disappeared.

"Where is that damn boy?" said Ringmar.

"Or his dad," said Winter. "If that is his father in the photo from the graduation party."

"There's been a countrywide appeal," said Ringmar. "Somebody should've turned up by now."

Anne did what she was required to do to the music, then returned to the dressing room. When she came out she noticed that face in the bar. It was looking at her with eyes she couldn't and didn't want to see. There was something insane about those eyes.

There were signs of light in the sky when she left the building, like thin fingers of cloud pointing in the direction she was going. She walked down the steps that smelled just as awful as they always did. There weren't many people in the street. The glow from the streetlights blended with the night.

As she crossed the street she turned around and saw the man with the face coming down the steps. She speeded up and looked around again. He was gone.

Her mobile rang in her handbag.

"Where are you?"

"On my way," she said. "That was the last time."

Anne ordered a beer. There were hanging baskets with flowers all around the café. It was still hot, almost stifling. A black cloud loomed in the east. The birds were flying low.

"False alarm," said Andy, following her gaze. "It's not going to rain."

"Not that I want it to," she said.

"I wouldn't mind a drop. The crops could use a soaking, as the farmers say."

"Really?"

"Oh yes, they're always saying that."

"It must be ten years since you last crossed the city boundary, Andy. Here comes my beer."

Andy raised his glass.

"I've been dying for this," she said.

"Was it so awful?"

"One more week, and then I'm packing it in."

"You said on the phone that this was your last show."

"I'm packing it in next week."

"Why haven't you stopped already?"

"You know why."

"Money isn't everything," he said, taking another drink. He looked up and saw that the swallows were flying higher now. The black cloud on the eastern horizon was sinking down.

"I needed some at the time."

"Money tends to create a need for more," he said.

"It's not that much."

"It's enough."

"It's not what you think," she said. "I don't need the money any more. Not in that way. Not because of that."

"And then, I guess earning it isn't as easy as you thought."

"No."

"Did you really think it would be?"

She shrugged. "I can close my eyes."

"Not all the time. You have to look sometimes or you'll lose your balance."

"He was there again last night," she said, after a short pause.

"Relax."

"He has this… look."

"Don't they all?"

"He's so fucking scary, Andy."

"Aren't they all?"

She took another sip of beer and waited for a group to edge their way past to the big table behind them.

"He frightens me."

"That's no doubt a good thing."

"It's like he… knows something. Like he wants to say something."

"What?"

"He smiles sometimes, like he knows something. Like he knows that I know."

"Know? Know what?"