In the Darkness (23 page)

There was an ironmonger’s in the square. She didn’t dare ask for a crowbar, but instead wandered along the shelves looking for something she could push into the crack round a door. She found a sturdy chisel, extra large and with a sharp edge, and a solid hammer. It had a grooved rubber handle. She had to enquire about the torch.

‘What are you going to use it for?’ asked the ironmonger.

‘For lighting,’ Eva said nonplussed. She stared at his stomach bulging beneath the nylon coat. Its buttons strained dangerously.

‘Aha, yes, I realise that. But they make torches for different purposes. I mean, are you going to use it for
working
, or for walking at night, or for signalling …?’

‘Working,’ she said quickly.

He produced a water- and shock-resistant Maglite torch, it was long and neat with a narrow body and a beam that could be focused as required. ‘This is about the best you can get. Lifetime guarantee. The American cops use them. Four hundred and fifty kroner.’

‘Oh God! Yes, I’ll take it,’ she said quickly.

‘It’s also good for bashing people on the head with,’ he said earnestly. ‘Burglars and the like.’

Eva frowned. She wasn’t sure if he was being serious.

The tools cost a fortune, more than seven hundred kroner. She paid and carried them out in a grey paper bag. She felt like the archetypal housebreaker herself, all she needed were some sneakers and a balaclava. Then she realised she hadn’t eaten. She went to the first-floor café at Jensen Manufaktur where she bought two sandwiches, one smoked salmon and egg and one cheese, a glass of milk and a coffee. She saw no one she knew. She didn’t really know anyone anyway, was merely surrounded by nameless faces which demanded nothing of her, and she liked that. She had such a lot to think about now. When she’d finished she went to the bookshop and bought a road atlas. She sat on some steps in the pedestrian precinct, partly hidden by an ice-cream sign and began to search. She rediscovered the way fairly quickly, did a provisional measurement with her fingers and came to the conclusion that it was at least two hundred kilometres. At all events it would take two and a half hours to drive there. If she left at nine she’d be up there before midnight. Alone, in a cabin on the Hardanger Plateau with a hammer and chisel, did she dare?

She glanced at the time again. She was waiting for Elmer who’d now been at work for six hours and who’d soon have got through his first working day as a murderer. From now on he would count the days, watch the calendar as time passed. Sigh with relief each evening he went to his bed as a free man. One day, somehow or other, she’d send him a little reminder. So that he’d lose his feeling of security and lie awake at night, waiting and waiting. Slowly, he’d go to pieces, perhaps start drinking, and finally skip work. And then he’d go straight to the dogs.
Eva
smiled an acid smile. She got up from her seat and went to G-Sport. There she bought a well waterproofed windcheater with a hood, dark green, a pair of Nike trainers and a small daysack. She’d never possessed such things in her life before. But if she were to trudge along mountain tracks in the middle of the night she should at least resemble a hut owner. In case anyone saw her. She paid almost fourteen hundred kroner for the stuff and rolled her eyes, but it didn’t make much of a dent in her wallet. How simple everything was when you didn’t have to count the kroner. Just pull them out and slap them down on the counter. She felt so light-headed and strange, almost like some other person, but it was she, Eva, who stood here strewing notes about her. It wasn’t that she yearned for luxury of any kind, she cared nothing for that at all. Simply an existence that was untroubled, so that she could paint in peace. She wanted no more. Lastly, she went to the bank and paid her bills. Electricity, phone, road tax, insurance and council tax. She stuffed all the receipts into her bag and walked out again with head held high. She crossed the square and down to the benches by the river, where she watched the dark water rushing past. The current was strong. A paper carton which once, perhaps, had contained fast food flew past like a miniature speed boat. Maybe Elmer was looking at the clock now, more often than he usually did. But no one had asked after him, no one had come through the production hall to lead him away to a waiting car. Nobody had seen anything. He thought he could get away with it. Perhaps, perhaps he could get away with it. Eva rose again and went back to her car. She drove to the swimming baths and parked at the front so that she could see the barrier. The Securitas guard was still patrolling the lines of cars.
She
lowered her head and began studying her road atlas. It was a quarter to three.

At last they appeared, a group of three men together. He halted by the white car and ran a hand through his hair. It hung loose now, but she recognised his profile, and his beer belly. He chatted and gesticulated, and thumped the other two good-naturedly with his fist.

As if nothing had happened!

They were talking about the car. She saw that from their gestures, they examined the tyres, one of them bent down and pointed under the radiator, Elmer shook his head as if in disagreement. He placed a hand on the roof of the car, as if to demonstrate that it was his. A strutting type with macho body language. Eva put the car in gear and slid slowly out of the lot. Maybe he was a real hot-rodder and would pull away from her immediately. His car looked lively, hers was falling to bits. But the traffic was dense at this time of day, it should be all right. His engine roared angrily as he started up, as if there was something quite special beneath the bonnet. The other two leapt clear. He waved, and came slowly towards the barrier which was open. She was in luck. He was indicating right and would drive past her, if she were quick she could get in right behind him. He’d put on a pair of sunglasses. Just as she nipped out, he looked in his mirror. She had an unpleasant feeling, tried to keep a courteous distance and rolled slowly along behind him down the congested main street, and out of town. He drove past the hospital and the undertaker, and soon afterwards moved into the right-hand lane, he was driving well but fairly fast, past the video shop and the Data superstore. They were approaching Rosenkrantzgate now, he glanced in the
mirror
once and suddenly indicated right. She had to drive straight on, but in her mirror she managed to see that he’d drawn up at the first entrance of a green house. A small boy had just run out. Perhaps it was his son. Then they were gone.

So he lived in that green house in Rosenkrantzgate. Possibly he had a son, of about five or six. Same age as Emma, she thought.

Could he continue to be a father after all that had happened? Take the boy on his lap in the evenings and sing songs? Help him brush his teeth? With the same hands that had made him a murderer? She couldn’t turn until she got to the trotting course, but then she made a cheeky U-turn and drove back the way she’d come. Now she had the green house on her left. A woman stood outside with a wash basket in her hands. Bleached hair piled high. A typical bimbo, just the sort he
would
like, she thought. She had him now. And soon, quite soon, she’d have two million.

Chapter 24

IT WAS NINE
in the evening when she set off in the car. Two and a half hours later she’d smoked ten cigarettes and the yellow shop was nowhere to be seen. Her legs had begun to feel stiff and her back ached. All at once, the project seemed more like some idiotic stunt. Outside it was as black as pitch, she’d passed Veggli, and the café with the big troll, she’d left the small towns behind and gradually the names began to awaken memories. This must be right. The shop should be on the left and it should be lit up, the way shops were, fully illuminated all night. But everything was dark, not a house to be seen, no traffic. The forest lined the road on each side like black walls, as if she were driving along the bottom of a ravine. There was music on the radio, but now she found it annoying. Bloody shop!

She pulled into the side of the road and stopped. Lit another cigarette and pondered a bit. It was almost midnight and she was tired. Perhaps she wouldn’t find it, perhaps her memory was playing tricks on her. It had been so long ago, over twenty-five years, they were just kids then. Maja had led the gang and the others had trotted along behind like sheep, Eva, Hanne, Ina and Else
Gro
. Old, green sleeping bags and tinned food. Cigarettes and lager. Maybe the old shop had been pulled down and they’d put up some huge shopping centre instead, she thought, or maybe they didn’t build shopping centres deep in the forest. She’d just have to drive on, she gave herself twenty minutes more and if she didn’t find it she’d have to turn back. Or she could spend the night in the car and carry on looking when it got light. But the notion of sleeping on the back seat wasn’t very appealing, this was pure wilderness, she didn’t know if she dared. She put the car in gear and moved out on to the road again, extinguishing her cigarette in the ashtray which was now full to overflowing. She took another look at the time and accelerated. She seemed to recall that the road had crossed a bridge, there’d been sheep and goats there, then they’d zigzagged upwards driving round hairpin bends. In the winter they cleared the road only as far as the tourist hostel, and Maja had to do the final bit on skis. But luckily there was no snow yet, or perhaps there was higher up, perhaps she’d have to wade through it on the final stretch, she hadn’t considered that. Eva wasn’t exactly the outdoors type, but now she felt ridiculous. She lit yet another cigarette, they were making her feel thoroughly queasy by this time, and peered into the gloomy forest searching for light. She turned up the heater. The air was different up here, sharper. It was so damned far! Elmer was probably in bed now, nightmares lurking, or perhaps he sat alone in his living room with his third whisky, his wife long since gone to bed, sleeping the sleep of the innocent under the duvet. It couldn’t be easy lying there with the image of Maja in his head, the feeling of those legs kicking under him as he pushed her into the mattress with the pillow, she must have put up a fight. Maja was
strong
, but men were so much stronger, it never ceased to amaze her. They didn’t even need to be particularly big, it was as if they were made of totally different stuff. Suddenly she braked. There was a light in the distance, on the left. Soon she saw the familiar orange sign of the Co-op.

The Co-op. And there was the road and the bridge. She flipped the indicator arm, lurched across the bridge and drove carefully up the mountainside in second gear. Her pulse began to race again, and she saw the cabin in her mind’s eye, a small dark wedge, simple and modest, with its totally improbable treasure, a pure fairy tale, the key to an untroubled life. Maja should have seen her now, she would have approved, the way she liked people who helped themselves to the good things in life. At any rate she wouldn’t have wanted the money to go to the state. Two million – how much interest would that be at six or seven per cent? No, she couldn’t use a bank. She bit her lip, she’d have to keep it in the cellar. Nobody must know about it, not Emma, not anyone. And she mustn’t throw money around or talk in her sleep or get drunk. In fact, she reflected, life would become rather complicated. The Ascona crept on upwards, Eva didn’t meet a single car, it was as if she were on a different planet, completely uninhabited, even the sheep were absent. It was probably too cold, Eva didn’t know much about such things. Fifteen minutes later she passed the tourist hostel on the right. She drove on, with the lake on her right now, and searched for a turning that would take her down to the shore. There was no snow, but up here it was lighter, the sky was so big. On her left was a large cabin, with a light in one window. It gave her a bit of a start. If there were people up here she’d have to watch out. The people with
mountain
cabins – Oslo types who’d had cabins up here for generations – would probably keep in touch with one another. Yes, we saw a car pass by here yesterday evening, well it would be about midnight. We didn’t recognise the sound of the engine, Amundsen drives a Volvo and Bertrandsen has a diesel Merc. It must have been a stranger, we’re sure of that.

Eva drove on round the bend, following the lake all the time. It was so calm it was like glass and glowed with an almost metallic glint, as if it were covered with ice. She caught sight of a small shed by the waterside and assumed there’d be a track leading to it. It was awfully bumpy. She crept down it, staring about her all the time, but she couldn’t see lights anywhere else. She didn’t stop until she was right by the water’s edge. It was possible to drive round the shed and park behind it. So she did. She switched off the ignition and headlights, and for a few seconds she sat still in the pitch blackness.

She was just about to slam the door, when she changed her mind. The sound of a car door would reverberate like a gunshot in this silence. Instead, she pushed it gently to, didn’t bother to lock up, and put the keys in her pocket. Then she lifted the daysack on to her back, the sack that contained the hammer and chisel and torch, did up her zip and tightened the hood round her face. She couldn’t remember just how long it took to walk from here, but thought it was about fifteen to twenty minutes. It was freezing now, the cold stung her cheeks as she walked with head bent, up the potholed track and then strode out along the road. She hoped she would recognise the cabin when she saw it. There was a stream behind it
where
they’d brushed their teeth and got water for coffee. The mountains reared up in every direction. They’d climbed the biggest, Johovda; she’d looked out across the Hardanger Plateau and felt so very small, but it was a good feeling, the feeling that most things in the world were bigger than herself. She liked it. Funny, she thought suddenly, as she walked on alone in the dark, we all know we’re going to die, and yet we live as hard as we can. She found the thought strangely moving.

She rounded a bend and saw some cabins in the distance. There were several, four or five, but no lights in any of them. This caused her to increase her pace a bit. Could it be there? Hadn’t it stood alone by its stream, or was her memory playing tricks? No, the others had probably been built since then, but it made no difference provided they were unlit, and she couldn’t see any parked cars. They were so oddly arranged, almost like emergency rations dropped from a plane, spread out as if at random. From here they all looked black, but she approached the first and thought it was brown, the windows were white. A set of antlers splayed under the gable. She stared at the one on the left, it lay closer to the stream, but it wasn’t red. This meant nothing, it could have been painted. She walked more slowly, there was a wooden sign hanging on one of the walls, it looked new, and even though she couldn’t remember what the cabin had been called before, she was certain now. This was Maja’s cabin. It proclaimed itself to be ‘Hilton’.