"You made it here first."
Eric almost jumps when Fredericsson is suddenly standing behind him. He leans a little closer to Eric.
"Hmm. I guess you made a stop on the way. I think you better have this."
The detective hands him a creased up business card that he pulls out from his suit. Eric looks down at the card.
"Peter Fredericsson. I remember your name from before."
"Now you have my number when you want to call me later."
The detective walks past him.
"And you will want to call me before long."
Eric stares at Fredericsson’s back which is turned to him while he talks to a nurse. He squeezes the pink phone in his pocket. Suddenly, Fredericsson is standing face to face with him again.
"We can only see her for a short while, so you better come with me. Something tells me that you have a part in this matter. So come along."
Eric looks over at the nurse, who nods and shows him into the room. For a moment, Eric wonders if her haircut can be called a crew-cut. He examines her face, but stops when he reaches her eyes. Her hair is dark, but a pair of clear blue eyes meet his with a firm look. He enters the room where he is met by Fredericsson who laughs a little.
"Not a lot of kindness there."
He blinks at Eric and walks over to Evy’s bed. He looks at her for a little while and she looks back. Her face looks very tired.
"Can she talk?"
Fredericsson looks at the nurse who has followed them into the room.
"Yes, but remember, only for a little while."
The detective turns back to Evy.
"It looks like we don’t have much time, so I will start with the most important question. Who did this to you?"
Evy’s tired eyes look over at Eric whose face is full of fear. A fear that is getting harder and harder for him to control. Every moment he expects James to walk into the room, point his finger at him and say:
"He did it."
Another shiver runs through Eric’s body at the thought that Fredericsson will believe James and not himself or Evy. The look in Eric’s wide open eyes makes Evy feel despondent, and, almost forcefully, she moves her eyes over to Fredericsson. Deep lines on his face tell of too many too short nights, too much coffee and too many worries.
"This is detective Peter Fredericsson."
The nurse’s voice fills the room.
"Right, yes, I forgot to introduce myself. Right."
He pulls out another creased business card from his pocket and gives it to Evy.
"You know him..?"
He looks at Eric.
"Yes, that’s Eric. I know him from school. Do you care about people?"
Evy’s voice is not the whisper that Eric had expected, and, without thinking, he takes a step back. Evy’s voice is exactly as he remembers it. Fredericsson leans in over the bed a little, but stops when he can see how much it bothers Evy.
"I’m sorry."
Fredericsson stands up straight.
"Yes, I care about people."
There are voices out in the hall and he turns toward them, clearly annoyed. He looks at the nurse briefly and then at Evy again.
"Is it OK to close the door?"
The nurse nods and closes the door silently.
"Yes, I care about people, and I care about you and what has happened to you. I care about him."
He points at Eric, who swallows.
"What has he got to do with everything?"
He lowers his finger, but his eyes are still on Eric.
"His name is Eric Brown. You say you went to school with him."
Evy’s eyes drift a little and then turn to Eric.
"Yes, that’s Eric. I went to school with him."
Fredericsson squints a little while he looks from Evy to Eric and back again.
"So, back to the question. Who did this?"
She sighs and looks straight at Fredericsson.
"I don’t know."
Fredericsson shakes his head.
"I don’t believe that."
He bends down over her and Evy gasps as he lifts the blanket away from her throat.
"The cut is in the front of your throat. You must’ve looked him right in the eye when it happened."
She shakes her head and looks briefly over at Eric.
"No, no."
Fredericsson steps between her and Eric so their eye contact is broken. The nurse coughs a little and Fredericsson slowly turns to her.
"Yes?"
"A few more minutes, then you have to leave."
Fredericsson stares at the nurse for a while until his breathing is normal again. Then he looks at Evy.
"What you need to remember is this: The cut on your throat will always be there to remind you of this day."
He turns to Eric and continues.
"This was a deliberate attack."
The look in Fredericsson’s eyes and the firmness of his voice makes Eric move around restlessly. Then Fredericsson turns to face Evy again.
"If it happened the way I think it did, the glass wall was broken first. That means that he had to get up and walk around 15 feet to get the piece of glass. Did you wait around for that?"
The nurse’s cough is louder this time.
"Remember, this was a deliberate attack. He didn’t succeed the first time."
He quickly looks at Eric.
"Maybe he’ll succeed the second time."
Slowly he turns to Evy again.
"Remember that.”
He looks at her for a long time.
"And take care of yourself."
He turns his face to Eric and nods at the door. Eric turns around mechanically to open it. Fredericsson fastens the door so it won’t close again and indicates to Eric that he should go out in the hall. Fredericsson stops in the door and looks at the nurse who is now very close to him.
"Why is that young man here if he isn’t police?"
Fredericsson looks at her for a long time and pushes out his lower lip.
"Because I’m sure he has something to do with this."
"Could he have done it?"
Fredericsson smiles.
"Look at him, he’s a physical wreck. He would never have the strength to do that to her. She’s young and strong.”
Eric freezes as he turns and looks back.
"Of course."
The nurse whispers and steps away from him. Fredericsson walks through the door without noticing Eric, who is following his every move with his eyes wide open.
"Oh, by the way. How bad is it?"
Fredericsson stops to face the nurse again. She grabs his arms and pulls him out into the hall, leaving Eric in front of the open door.
"He only just missed the main artery in her neck. If he hadn’t it would have been over unless she had had help very fast."
Eric slips quickly into the room while he puts his hand into his pocket. He puts down the phone on the cover of the bed and quickly turns around. Evy’s hand reaches his and for a moment they look at each other.
"I have given a false name. Don’t mention my real one."
Eric’s voice is just an out of breath whisper that hangs in the air.
"Yes, I noticed. Brown, you couldn’t come up with something better?"
"It’s an ugly cut, but it’s not critical. It will probably heal fast."
Eric slips through the door and looks down the hall, where a nurse catches his eye before disappearing into a room.
"With good care, the wound should turn out all right, and maybe something more can be done later."
Fredericsson frowns and turns his head toward the room behind him.
"But there will always be a scar."
Fredericsson waves his hand around and the nurse stops. He turns to Evy who has hidden the phone under the covers. Fredericsson looks at Eric who is standing with his back turned watching a nurse further down the hall. He pushes out his lip while he watches Eric.
"She also has a broken rib from one
of the blows."
Fredericsson turns to face the nurse.
"You can’t see anything... Those blows were given by someone who knows how to hit without leaving any marks."
Fredericsson looks at her thoughtfully.
"Do you mean that this isn’t the first time?"
"Or it’s something that isn’t meant to be discovered."
"We’ll place a guard in front of the door. Until then, please keep a close eye on things."
The nurse looks in the same direction as Fredericsson and for a moment they are both watching Eric. Fredericsson walks over to him at looks him in the eye.
"It’s time you went home."
Eric looks at him.
"But..."
"There’s nothing here for you anymore. Go home."
He takes Eric’s arm and reluctantly Eric turns and follows him to the elevator. Fredericsson pushes the button.
"By the way."
Fredericsson turns to face Eric again.
"We’re missing a phone from the crime scene. A pink one."
Fredericsson pushes out his lip.
"You don’t happen to know where it is?"
Eric’s eyes wander a little and then he shakes his head.
"The officers saw it when they arrived at the scene. They say you couldn’t miss it. Did you see it?"
Eric shakes his head vigorously.
"I have a feeling we’ll talk again."
Fredericsson lets go of Eric’s arm and the elevator doors open.
"See you, Eric."
Fredericsson steps back and lets Eric enter the elevator.
Chapter 9
The doors of the elevator close and in the mirror wall inside he looks into the eyes of a stranger. The eyes are full of fear and pain and there’s also a deep resonance of a man who has given up. For a moment he wonders whether he slept at all last night, but stops himself. He knows deep down that he’s trying to escape the truth. He did sleep last night. He holds out his jacket and looks down at his chest and his stomach before closing his eyes hard. Where the stomach should be there’s only a hollow and his shirt is too big around his waist. His chest, which he used to be so proud of, now looks like the chest of a boy. He closes his jacket and holds it tight around his body while he looks at his delicate hands. The bones are clearly visible through the skin and his knuckles are white. There’s a sound behind him and the elevator doors open. He sees how a dark hole opens up behind him and in the faint light he can see the outlines of a long, empty corridor.
Outside the elevator there’s a handwritten sign: Be careful, no proper lighting. He shivers, the sound repeats itself, and the doors close behind him. Once again, he’s alone with the strange person in the mirror. He leans his head against the mirror and repeats to himself in a loud voice:
"I don’t want to be scared anymore. I don’t want to be scared anymore."
He hears the doors opening behind him and in the mirror he sees a blond man in a tan suede jacket. It takes a while before Eric turns around. The man quickly steps to the side. In his hazy brain, Eric registers the sound of another elevator door opening.
"Yes, she’s in the hospital. Hmm. There was also the young man from the apartment. Eric Brown. I would like to read the file on him."
The blonde man in front of him looks to the left and nods politely without recognizing him.
"What do you mean?"
Fredericsson nods back absently before looking at the floor and walking faster.
"Say that again. You never talked to him?!"
Eric steps to the left in the elevator trying to hide from Fredericsson. But his voice and steps have already disappeared. The doors of the elevator are moving but are held back by the blonde man who now looks directly at him. Eric can only focus on his tanned face which shows clear signs of an outdoor life. Eric rubs his eyes and turns to face him. Fredericsson is gone, the exit is closing behind him. He nods at the man and leaves the elevator.
"I hope I didn’t scare you."
A feeling of inadequacy makes his stomach retract. ”Of course he has a voice to match his looks.” Eric tries to get past him but feels someone grabbing his upper arm, gets scared and stops.
"Are you sure you’re OK?"
Eric nods and tries to escape but the man holds on.
"You don’t look OK."
Eric tears himself free.
"And what do you care?"
"Sorry, but we’re in a hospital and you look terrible."
Eric is really angry.
"Well, we can’t all look like models and talk like movie stars."
The man lets go of Eric’s arm and steps back. Then he shakes his head and walks past him.
"If you ever need help."
He turns around and gives Eric his card.
"You never know."
Eric doesn’t take it, and the man lets it fall. Eric stares at the card on the marble floor in front of him.
"Private investigator, what makes him think I need a private investigator?"
Eric rocks back and forth on his feet while watching the card.
"Hmm."
He keeps moving back and forth a little and then he stops.
"After tonight. Maybe."
Eric picks up the card and puts it in his pocket as he walks toward the exit. Once again he gathers his jacket around himself. He watches the rain which is worse now than it was earlier in the evening and then he finally steps out into it.
When the elevator doors open, the man takes off his suede jacket and holds on to it in one hand with a firm grip as he walks quickly over to the nurse.
"Excuse me, where can I find Margret Jones?"
The nurse looks at him while stepping in front of the door behind her. Her movements stir something in the man’s eyes and he looks over her shoulder.
"What are you to Margret Jones?"
He moves his head a bit and sees a blonde woman, who slowly turns her head and their eyes meet.
"I’m her son."
He nods at Evy over the nurse’s head before looking down at her very short, dark hair. With a friendly smile he says.
"Where is my mother?"
The doors of the elevator opens and a police officer steps out, removing the rain from the brim of his hat with his hand. The nurse lets out a small sigh.
"Now we can relax again."
She starts walking toward the officer, but quickly turns around to face the blonde man who is looking with curiosity into the room in front of him.
"Hey."
The nurse speaks in a low and calm voice. The man turns to face her, and she’s surprised at how easy his movements are. From his weather beaten face, she had judged him to be around 60, but she’s beginning to suspect that he’s actually a lot younger. He smiles at her kindly.
"Wait a second and I’ll take you to your mother. I don’t know if you know this, but I’m afraid it doesn’t look good."
The man nods.
"What’s your name?"
"Marc Jones."
"Is it OK if I call you Marc?"
He nods again and some strands of blonde hair fall down over his forehead.
"Yes, I know. I talked to the doctor earlier. I came as fast as I could."
Then she looks at the police officer.
"Where would you like to be?"
"Which room is it?"
"This one right here."
"In front of the door is fine. Do you have a chair?"
"Of course."
She disappears and returns quickly with a chair which she places in front of the door to Evy’s room.
"Is this OK?"
She looks up at the officer who is standing next to her. He nods in Evy’s direction.
"Is that her?"
The nurse nods.
"OK, then I have all I need."
The nurse turns around.
"Her room is down here."
She touches the blonde man’s arm lightly and walks down the hall.
"It’ll soon be ove
r. I think you should stay for the rest of the night. For some reason, the early hours of the morning are the hardest… to be frank, that’s when people are most likely to die."
The nurse’s voice is almost gone when the officer sits down. The chair makes a loud noise when he tries to tilt it so that he can rest his back against the wall. Then the voices are gone.
Chapter 10
"Yuk!"
The smell in the underground parking lot hits him in the face and he feels an overwhelming need to cough. He is badly shaken after the scene at the doctor, and he feels a small amount of relief when he leans against the car. He bends his head and looks at the oil stains of many shapes and colors on the concrete floor below him. Then he lets his hand slide down over his face and takes a deep breath. He puts his hands against the car and sways a little before putting all his weight back on his legs. Slowly he gets into the car. He looks at the leather seat beside him. ”No one has ever sat in that seat.” He looks up, moving his hands back and forth over the leather steering wheel. His eyes can’t find any focus as the minutes go by one by one. The sounds of people and cars coming and going soon get tedious and the darkness outside has become massive and ruthless. The figure of a woman slides by his window with smooth movements and the door of the car next to him is opened. She gets in and as she closes the door she looks at him. Her face lights up in a polite smile, before she turns her head and looks at the man in the driver’s seat next to her. The sigh that now fills Nathan’s car is sad and heartfelt. It’s as if it holds all the pain and confusion of what has happened today. In the rear view mirror he watches the car drive off silently. His body seems to slowly wake up from being in the same position for so long. He puts the car in reverse and quickly steps on the gas. For a moment, the car is moving, but then he’s thrown forward when it suddenly stops.
"Oh, why did I have to buy a car with stick shift?!"
His body is tense as he turns the key again. The engine starts and he slowly backs out and leaves the parking lot in high speed. He looks at the dimly lit clock on the dashboard.
"Hmm, I’m late. Very late."
He makes a face. ”They’ve always waited for me in court… but this is not court...” The traffic is with him and he finds a parking spot close to the elevator. He turns and looks at the backseat, but suddenly remembers that he hasn’t brought anything with him. He stares at the backseat – lost – before getting out with difficulty. He has trouble breathing and this time he gives in to the cough.
Devil's Touch Page 11
