He liked the thought that Agnar Eriksen’s life would be different from now on, now when everything had come to light. Up from the channel. A father’s love, in that case too, he thought, in all its grotesqueness.
«It’s frightening what love can lead to, that it can be so dangerous,» said Bitte Røed, as if she had read his mind.
Verner Jacobsen did not reply. You are dangerous, he thought, resisting the urge to touch her. You make me lose my judgment. Have I already lost it? Is she right? Is she a poor judge of character? Do I see her the way I want to see her? A capable detective with a warm, red heart?
«Last year I wished for a lover to celebrate Christmas with,» said Bitte, who did not seem to notice that Verner had become lost in thought. «And until yesterday, I thought I would get to experience that this year.»
Verner did not know what to say. He only knew that they would both approach Christmas with their hearts astray.
«You’re lucky, Verner,» Bitte Røed said with a smile. «You have a wife you can trust and a person’s best friend waiting for you every day.»
«Yes,» said Verner, and discovered that, in all his confusion, he really meant it. «I am lucky.»
Bitte Røed glanced at the clock. It was late. She saw that Verner was gathering up piles of paper. He turned off the computer and got ready to end the day.
«Do you have to go home right away? The news will be on shortly, and it would be nice not to be alone when I see what they say.»
«I have plenty of time,» said Verner, getting up.
They sat down on the couch in the break room and stared at the TV screen. The pictures of the townhouse she lived in made her root feverishly in her pockets. Her cell phone dropped to the floor so that the cover popped under the couch.
«God, I forgot to tell the kids,» she said, reaching her hand under the couch to fish out the loose parts.
Verner Jacobsen stared at her round rear end sticking up in the air and stifled a smile.
«Do you need help?» he asked, struggling not to laugh.
«Found it,» she said with a smile, plopping down beside him again, far inside what would be considered a normal comfort zone. He heard her talk soothingly to her kids, who evidently were with their dad right now, watching their home on the news.
When she had ended the call, they sat there staring at the TV screen again. Verner Jacobsen felt that his attention was only directed at her. The hairs on her arms barely touched his. All his senses were activated by having her body so close. He acted as if he was intensely occupied by what the news reporter was saying. He had goose flesh, and the air between them was suddenly tangible, an electric membrane that vibrated faintly. He could not move a muscle for fear that she would discover that he sat there enjoying her closeness.
«Isn’t it unbelievable what they can make themselves say?» Bitte said abruptly.
«Huh?»
«Aren’t you listening? The news reporter...»
She looked at him searchingly.
«You weren’t listening. Where were you now, really?»
He did not know how to respond, so he just leaned a little toward her, knew that he had a sheepish smile that neither suited the occasion nor his face, but he was unable to stop it.
«Well, I might as well go home,» said Bitte, standing up, just as he intended to try to kiss her one more time.
«Are you alone?»
It just fell out of his mouth. She laughed. Not her usual boisterous laugh, but a quiet laughter, on the verge of tears.
«What are you hinting at, inspector?»
The words clumped up. Everything he wanted to say was there, but the words were so stuck together that not a syllable came out.
«Nothing,» he said as casually as possible. «It just can’t be pleasant to come home to an empty apartment and... and... have you gotten the doors fixed?»
«It will be fine,» said Bitte Røed. «I’m pretty handy when it comes down to it. Just have to find a screwdriver and buy new fuses. I don’t want the kids to see their home the way it is now.»
«Do you need help?» Verner asked.
Just then his phone rang. They both saw what it said on the display. Ingrid.
«No,» said Bitte without looking at him. «I need to be alone for a bit.»
Then she left. Verner let the phone die out by itself and sat there watching her with his heart in a tangle.
Why couldn’t he stop thinking about her? I’m doing fine with Ingrid, I am, darn it! He sent Ingrid a text message that he was delayed, and went back to his own office. He took out the knitting needles and the rest of the green ball of yarn from the desk drawer. He had to calm down before he went home, could not meet Ingrid now when he was so full of emotions. He had to knit it out of him.
Bitte had been so vulnerable at home in her apartment. The look she gave him when she realized that he had saved her. Him! And she made him feel like Superman for a brief moment, and it was then, in that moment with superpowers, that he let his lips graze hers.
He cast on forty stitches with four needles, changed his mind and expanded that by two on each needle as he pictured the chubby hands of his colleague. She was always complaining about being cold. She would get wrist warmers for Christmas, he decided. Another impulse came to him. He scratched his head, loosened the ponytail, pulled out a single long hair. Then he set the hair along the thread, and carefully knitted it into the ribbing. Without knowing a thing, she would carry him around her wrist. A Christmas present from him to her.
The Girl With No Heart Page 30
