"Two hours."
The young officer is almost tasting the words.
"Maybe sooner. Who knows?"
Fredericsson can see how disappointed the officer is and turns and walks over to the bedroom. The officer whispers to the investigator.
"I guess he"s not married."
"Right."
When Fredericsson is back on the street it"s virtually empty. The air is cool. He looks up and tries to see the stars that he knows must be there somewhere above him. "What"s the use. Way too much light." He breathes in deeply and looks around.
"Bye."
The young officer nods at him.
"I thought you said a couple of hours."
The officer looks at his watch demonstratively. Fredericsson looks at him and then down at his own watch.
"Wow! It"s one."
What he had thought would take two hours had taken eight. He looks up at the stars again. "There"s something I"ve missed. But I"ve been over the apartment at least three times. What is it that keeps bothering me?" He can feel someone behind him and turns around.
"That took a while."
The man with the round face is standing in front of him.
"Yes, longer than I thought."
"You don"t live here?"
"Yes, I do. In the small apartment on the corner."
Fredericsson looks more closely at him.
"Yes, it"s expensive."
He turns his head.
"I have two jobs. I clean at the bakery."
He points down the street.
"Keeps my head above water."
His smile fades a little.
"Every day?"
Now the man with the round face isn"t smiling anymore.
"Yes."
Fredericsson nods.
"Did they take him away? I had to get some sleep before I go to the bakery. My work here starts in seven hours, so I can only get a couple of hours when I get back."
"Yes."
The round face in front of him moves up and down in thoughts.
"There was a lady who came round a lot."
Fredericsson looks him in the eye.
"Maybe not a lady exactly - she"s too young. Woman is probably a better word. I"ve seen her many times in the hall. I talked to Eric Taylor about her, but he said she was OK. That she"s a friend..."
"Was a friend."
The round face looks at Fredericsson thoughtfully before going on.
"She was never there for very long. Twenty minutes at the most before she left. Sometimes not even for that long. I don"t like that sort of thing. I don"t know what"s happening."
He straightens his neck a little.
"I don"t like it."
"How long does it take to clean the bakery?"
"Three hours normally."
"I"d like you to come by the station. Then we can make a drawing of her. I"d like to talk to her... You don"t happen to know her name?"
"No. I"ve asked several times when I met her."
He puts his hands into the pockets of his sweat pants.
"I stopped her every time."
He shakes his head.
"She gave me a new name every time. I talked to Eric Taylor about it, like I said.
He stops and takes his hands out of his pockets again.
"But in the end he asked me to mind my own business. He was a little threatening."
He wipes his brow.
"I can"t lose this job. Then I can"t live here."
He leans forward a little.
"I don"t pay so much."
Fredericsson nods slowly. The caretaker puts his hands back in his pockets and looks nervously at Fredericsson.
"It"s completely legal."
Fredericsson nods.
"Sometimes she seemed very remote and sometimes very nervous. She was a hard one to figure out. I sometimes wondered if she was on drugs."
Fredericsson shrugs and looks around the empty streets.
"Which station should I go to? I have to be back before eight."
Fredericsson looks at his watch again.
"Hmm, I can"t really make it home to sleep. I"ll sleep in my car, so come back here when you"re done and I"ll give you a ride."
The round face smiles before he turns around and walks down the street. Fredericsson follows him with his eyes until he stops down the street and unlocks the door under the green awning. With tired steps, Fredericsson walks over to his car, fantasizing about fresh bread and a cup of coffee. In his rearview mirror he sees the man disappear inside. He rubs his eyes, gets comfortable and waits for sleep to come.
Chapter 23.
There"s a smile on his unshaven face when the shop owner turns his old pickup truck onto he gravel road that leads to the cabin. His eyes scan the peaceful scenery before him and he sighs a little like he always does when he drives this way. When Nathan had bought the land, he had hoped that he wouldn"t subdivide it. Fortunately, Nathan had never even mentioned that idea and he was grateful for it. The final traces of yellow and pink have disappeared and left only a clear blue sky. It had been a cold night and the air is clear and fresh with a hint of winter in it.
"What?!"
He stops the pickup behind Nathan"s car and gets out slowly.
"Nathan?!"
His voice is clear as he walks over to the car. Then he sees the plastic tube that leads from the exhaust pipe to the window of the car. The window is open a little. He tears the tube from the window and opens the door with so much force that his arm hurts.
"Nathan?!"
Nathan"s body falls out of the car and lands on the ground before him.
"Nathan, no!"
The shop owner"s body collapses.
"I should have guessed."
He bends down carefully and touches Nathan"s face. It"s cold and the gla.s.s-like eyes are staring at him.
The shop owner stares patiently out over the lake as the phone rings. Finally he recognizes the voice on the other end and sighs.
"Vince, good to hear your voice. I don"t know what to do. I"ve never tried anything like this before. I"m at Nathan"s place. He"s killed himself."
It"s quiet.
"Vince, are you there? You"re so quiet."
He looks over at Nathan while he listens.
"When do you think the guys from the city can be here? I mean, I know you can be here in fifteen minutes. You can put the siren on if you want. But the guys from the city..."
He"s suddenly quiet.
"OK. OK Vince. I"ll wait and I won"t touch anything. I"ll go sit in my car."
He holds out the phone in his outstretched arm and presses the disconnect b.u.t.ton hard.
"Hmm."
He pushes his head forward a little and squints. Then he presses a b.u.t.ton and holds the phone to his ear. "Hmm, I should"ve brought my gla.s.ses."
"Hi honey..."
He"s quiet again.
"No, I"m OK. Do I sound strange..? Yes, I guess I do. I won"t be back in the shop for a while."
He gets annoyed when she interrupts him.
"No, Nathan is not OK. Nathan has killed himself and Vince is calling the cops in the city. He doesn"t want to handle it himself since it"s Nathan."
He stops and looks out over the lake again.
"d.a.m.n it, it"s Nathan. We all know him around here. I don"t know why he"s so worried just because it"s Nathan."
He stops.
"Yes, of course Nathan had a lot of money, so maybe that"s why... I don"t know."
Then the voice on the other end interrupts him and it takes a while before he answers in a loud voice.
"He..."