The Last Fix (32 page)

    'Raymond
Skau?'

    Gunnarstranda
nodded.

    'He's
got Katrine Bratterud's jewellery?'

    'Time
will tell,' Gunnarstranda said. 'Only Eidesen can give a satisfactory answer to
the question of whether it is her jewellery.' He stood up. 'So now I have an
excuse to get him back here. You continue the field work in the meantime - in
particular, check out anything connected with Henning Kramer.'

    Ole
Eidesen sauntered down the corridor with his hands buried deep in his trouser
pockets. He was wearing a white tracksuit top with a colourful design on the
front, some kind of aquarium with either sperm cells or tadpoles swimming
around. The white tracksuit bottoms had a grass stain on one knee and seemed
too big: they smothered his white trainers. Gunnarstranda's white porcelain
teeth sparkled at the sight; he held the door wide open for the close- cropped,
monk-like visitor who had to bend at the knees to shake hands - it was almost
like a courteous bow. Eidesen stopped the second he was inside. The cuts on his
face were still red and angry, and his eyes were drawn to Gunnarstranda's desk.
The paper had been tidied away, but the table space between the computer and
the electric typewriter was littered with small objects.

    'Take
all the time you need and point out the things you think may have belonged to
Katrine,' the police inspector said, guiding Ole Eidesen to the desk.

    In
the space there was a rusty old razor, a brass- coloured cylinder containing
lipstick, a china hash pipe, a lump of black Afghani hash wrapped in
transparent plastic, two gold earrings in the shape of cannabis leaves, a box
of matches, a half-used sheet of contraceptive pills, two gold rings, one in
the shape of a snake, the other with a green stone inset. A black disposable
lighter with a figure 1 on the side stood next to a driving licence, a braided
gold necklace, an ivory bracelet, a selection of thinner bracelets of unknown
material and a small black shoulder bag.

    Eidesen
stared long and hard at the objects, then his eyes wandered over to the
policeman.

    'Take
your time,' Gunnarstranda said, taking a seat, 'Take all the time you need.'

    Eidesen
cleared his throat and pointed to the bag. 'Could I see that, please?'

    'The
bag? Of course. Have a careful look.' Leaning back, the policeman pulled a
drawer out of the desk and placed one foot in it. 'Take your time and take
care.'

    'This
is hers,' Eidesen said, examining it.

    'Sure?'
the policeman asked.

    'Yes.'

    'How
can you be so sure?'

    'It
was a present from me.' Eidesen pointed to the earrings. 'And these.'

    'Are
you sure?'

    'Yes,
I'm sure.'

    'If I
say I bought the cannabis leaves off someone in Markveien what would you say?'

    Eidesen
frowned. 'You may have done, but not the bag. I recognize it.' He opened it and
turned out the white lining. 'See,' he said. 'She spilt nail varnish in it and
I recognize the stain. This is her bag; I bought it in Spain. There are not
very many bags of this type around. You might be able to trick me, but the
earrings, the gold chain, the rings and the ivory bracelet, and the lipstick,
Lancome, that colour? They're Katrine's things.'

    'Are
you quite sure?'

    'Yes.'

    'Is
there anything else you would have expected to see there?'

    'I'm
not sure.'

    'And
what does that answer mean?'

    'I
think she had another ring, one with two diamonds in it.'

    'You
mean she was wearing that ring on that night?'

    Eidesen
puffed out his cheeks. In the end he shook his head. 'It would be quite
strange,' he mumbled, shaking his head gravely, 'if she had not been wearing
it. She never took it off.'

    Gunnarstranda
nodded. 'Let's hold fire with the ring,' he said. 'Which of these things lying
on the table belonged to her?'

    Eidesen
gathered the earrings, both rings, the bracelets, the gold chain and the bag
into a little pile on the table. 'This, too,' he continued, adding the
lipstick. He lifted the sheet of pills. 'Not sure about these.'

    'Was
she on the pill?'

    'Yes.'
He motioned towards the driving certificate. 'Could I see…?'

    '…
the driving licence?' Gunnarstranda completed, and nodded. 'Here you are.'

    Eidesen
turned over the licence and saw Katrine Bratterud's face. He stood staring at
it. 'Where did you find this?' he asked in a thick voice.

    The
policeman did not answer. Eidesen shook his head slowly. The photograph of his
girlfriend's face had disconcerted him for a few moments.

    'How
come this girl had so much valuable jewellery?' the policeman asked.

    'No
idea.'

    'Did
you give her any - apart from the earrings?'

    'No.'

    'Are
they stolen property?'

    Eidesen
glanced up and twisted his mouth into a scornful grimace.

    Gunnarstranda
sat watching him.

    'There
you have it,' Eidesen said, nodding towards the objects. 'Her epitaph - stolen
goods.' His mouth had stiffened into a bitter scowl. He was in turmoil.

    Gunnarstranda
said nothing.

    Eidesen
cast around for something to sit on. Gunnarstranda pointed to the low armchair
in the suite beneath the window. 'Please take a seat.'

    'If
you could change anything about that evening,' the policeman continued, 'what
would you have done differently?'

    Eidesen
sighed, raised his head and stared at the wall, deep in thought. 'In fact, I
have no idea,' he mumbled.

    'Did
you know Henning Kramer picked her up from the party?'

    Eidesen's
eyes widened.

    The
policeman nodded. 'She made a call from Annabeth s's house and asked Kramer to
come and fetch her. He jumped into the car at once and she began to walk down
towards the city centre - they met in Voksenkollveien. Did she tell you that
Henning would pick her up?'

    Eidesen
shook his head in disbelief.

    'She
must have left either just before or just after the five of you took the taxi
down to the city.'

    'What?'

    'She
must have left after you because you didn't pass her. Well, I assume you would
have known if your taxi had passed her.'

    Eidesen
said nothing.

    'Why
do you think she didn't tell you anything about Kramer picking her up?'

    Eidesen
waited for a few seconds before answering. 'I don't know what to say,' he said
in a low voice. He cleared his throat. 'I don't know what to say,' he repeated.
'It's come as a complete surprise to me.'

    'What
was the relationship between Henning Kramer and Katrine?'

    'Relationship?'

    'Yes,
were they friends or…?'

    'Lovers?
I may have thought that…' He sat looking into space.

    '…
was she cheating on you?' suggested the policeman.

    'I
didn't say that.' 'Did you cheat on her?'

    'Eh?'

    'Did
you go with other women?'

    'No,'
said Eidesen.

    'Never?'

    Eidesen
shook his head.

    'Not
the night she was killed, either?'

    Eidesen
looked up at him without saying a word.

    'Come
on, Eidesen. I'm not asking you questions for fun. Were you with another woman
when Katrine was killed?'

    'You've
spoken to Merethe,' Eidesen said, clearing his throat.

    Gunnarstranda
heaved a deep sigh.

    'I
wanted to wait until you had spoken to her. I had thought about telling you,
but wanted to wait.'

    'Eidesen,'
Gunnarstranda said with a resigned intake of air. 'Imagine you had been charged
as a result of this business and we were about to meet in court. The decision
about whether you should be given a custodial sentence or not was hanging in
the balance. You would have met your solicitor and do you know what he would
have said? He would have whispered in your ear,
For God's sake, don't let
them catch you lying. If you lie, you weaken your credibility.

    In
other words: If you lie once, who can be certain you haven't been lying the
whole way through?'

    They
sat looking at each other in silence.

    'I
would like to change my statement,' Eidesen said at length.

    'What
would you like to change?'

    'What
I said about the taxi ride home after we were in Smuget.'

    'What
actually happened?'

    'I
went back to Merethe Fossum's place.'

    'When
did you get there?'

    'Between
three and four in the morning.'

    'What
did you do?'

    'We
opened a bottle of wine and went to bed.'

    'Why
should I believe this?'

    'Because
it's true.'

    'Why
did you say something different last time?'

    'I
don't know.'

    'At
least make this statement more credible.'

    'What
do you mean now?'

    'Give
me something, something that would help me to believe you,' the policeman
shouted in despair.

    'She's
got a poster of Audrey Hepburn in her bedroom, a picture from a film… called…
Breakfast at Tiffany's…
. you know, one of those fifties diva pictures.'
'You could have seen that before - or since.'

    'I
met her for the first time at the party.'

    'But
you could still have seen the poster in the days that followed the night.'

    'She
has a birthmark.'

    The
policeman sighed.

    'On
the inside of her thigh, high up,' Eidesen said.

    'You could
have discovered that since then.'

    'Only
if we had been together afterwards, which we haven't.'

    'But
why should I bother questioning her so many times?' Gunnarstranda stood up.
'You waste my time with nonsense and lies. You're obstructing my investigation.'
He swept an arm towards Katrine's effects. 'Do you want us to arrest the person
who created this epitaph for her or not?'

    Eidesen
didn't answer. He gently cleared his throat. Gunnarstranda strolled over to the
window and placed his palms against the hollow of his back.

    'There
is one thing,' Eidesen said in a hoarse voice.

    Gunnarstranda
looked up at the blue sky. Over the ridge to the west a flying object was just
discernible, a hang glider. He didn't answer, didn't turn around.

    'Katrine
did have a very colourful past,' Eidesen said. 'Imagine you were with someone
who had done everything with everyone.' ^

    Eidesen
fell silent, and at long last Gunnarstranda came away from the window and
rested his gaze on him. 'And what do you mean by that?' he asked airily.

    'I
don't know,' Eidesen sighed. 'That's what I have to say and either you
understand it or you don't.'

    'Do
you know any of these men you have in mind?'

    'I'm
not interested in any of them.'

    'Did
Katrine mention a man called Raymond?'