by K. O. Dahl
'She told me.'
'What did she say? Her exact words.'
'He tried it on. Mr Nice Guy. Those were the words she used. And that was all we said about the matter.'
'That was all she said. Mr Nice Guy?'
'We had talked about this business before, that she had, well… recognized Gerhardsen and so on. Both Annabeth and Bjørn are pretty pathetic, right, in their way, and when we talked about them… well, from then on we called him Mr Nice Guy. It was a bit like an internal code between two people. We joked about it because during the day he's the Vinterhagen chairman and during the night he buys himself a chunk of potential patients. We dubbed him Mr Nice Guy. Ironic, of course.'
Frølich studied his notes. 'And when did she tell you this?'
'After the party.'
Frølich straightened up in his chair.
'There was something special about that night, you see. I drove up to collect her. She called me.'
'She called you? When?'
'Saturday night. Around twelve. I was sleeping in front of the TV. She woke me, called me on my mobile.'
Frølich, excited: 'And you drove there to collect her?'
'Yes
'What make is your car?'
'I don't have a car. It was my brother's. He's abroad at some seminar. In the Philippines. I'm allowed to borrow his car when he's off on a trip. An Audi. She came to meet me in the road, wearing the same gear, right, provocative - her skirt was transparent with the street light behind her - her dream clothes. At that moment she saw herself as some chick in a promo video and she jumped over the car door. She didn't open the door - it's a convertible, you see, and then she tied her blouse around her hair, no, that was afterwards, but what I'm trying to say is that she got off on the car trip, on the night, on-being in an open car with me. Her hair was blowing into her face, right, round the bends down Holmenkollen, and she cast around for something to tie her hair with, but she had nothing, so she took off her top, with just a black bra underneath, and that gave her a kick, sitting there in her bra. That was the dream. Like feelin' free. We drove down to Aker Brygge, to the McDonald's. It was her idea, and we ate there. She wanted a cheeseburger and stood there dressed as she was. It was like the fulfilment of this dream. Like… like… Christ, someone should have strung up that word like. I am so sick and tired of saying it. Anyway, I'm pretty sure she was a millimetre away from shooting up that night. She was high, really high, and when I asked, before we took off from Aker Brygge, what had happened like, or why she was so high, she ignored me, just for a second. I could see she didn't want to talk about it because she didn't want to come down from the clouds she was on, if I can say that. She like saw me for a second and said: Mr Nice Guy. He tried it on… And I just stood looking at her.'
'And then?'
'Then we took the E6 - the old Mossevei - almost as far as Ingierstrand.'
'And?'
'I parked there.'
'In Ingierstrand?'
'No, I stopped there at first, but we weren't on our own. After a while another car parked in the large car park there, so we drove on to the Mosseveien crossing and turned right, out towards Lake Gjer, past Tyrigrava. We stopped in a car park not far from the E18, facing the lake, very nice spot.'
'And?'
'Then we talked.'
'What about?'
'Life in general.'
'Not the party?'
'Not a word.'
'Nothing about her, about what had happened that day?'
'No, just about dreams.'
And then?'
'Then we had sex.'
'I thought she was with a guy called Ole Eidesen.'
Henning Kramer shrugged.
'Were you jealous of Eidesen?'
'Not in the slightest, more the other way around - he was jealous of me… perhaps.' v 'Why should he have been?'
'Katrine was more open with me, I suppose, and he suspected us of sleeping together now and then.'
'Did you?'
'Now and then.'
Frølich chewed his biro and waited.
'Not that often, only when she wanted it. The last time was a long time ago now, many weeks ago.'
'Did you think of the relationship as love?'
'Of course.'
'Let me be precise,' Frank said, sitting up erect. 'I'm asking you if you wanted a so-called official relationship with her, just the two of you.'
'It was just the two of us. She always came back to me. But I was the one who didn't want her so close. In that way we were closet on a soul level.'
'On a soul level?'
'Yes.'
'With a bit of body now and then?'
'Yes.'
'But that night who took the initiative? Who suggested intercourse?'
'She did.'
Frank was silent.
'It's incorrect to say suggested. It was in the air.
You could say that we like had sex from the moment she sat in the car. Making love was just a kind of conclusion - the final bit that was missing.'
'Did you use contraceptives?'
'No.'
'Where did you make love?'
'In the car.'
'That night you say she was wearing a black bra and a top?'
'A blouse, black, and a skirt.'
'Was she wearing anything else?'
'Not as far as I know.'
'No panties?'
'I didn't see her taking them off.'
'So she was walking around naked under her skirt?'
'No, she was wearing them. She pushed them to the side… if we have to be technical.'
'So she was dressed when you were having sex?'
'Yes, that is, she was wearing a skirt and I folded down her bra.'
'And the blouse?'
'She put that back on later.'
'When?'
Kramer frowned as he deliberated. 'When I drove her home,' came the eventual answer. *- 'Was that long afterwards?'
'Maybe an hour or two. We slept for a while, at least I did.'
'How long did you sleep?'
'I woke up at just after half past two. She had left the car. She woke me up as she got back in.'
'And you're sure it was half past two?'
'02:37.1 looked at the clock in the car.'
'And she'd been out?'
'Yes, I heard the car door slam and she was inside and I looked at the clock and she teased me because I was asleep. She asked if I had a cigarette. I did and so we both smoked a cigarette, and then she asked me to drive her to Ole's place.'
'What clothes was she wearing?'
'The same.'
'Jewellery?'
'Assume so.'
'What do you mean by that? Did she have any jewellery or not?'
Kramer didn't speak for a few seconds, as though thinking. 'Katrine always wore jewellery: gold rings… bracelets… rings with twisted snake patterns and big stones, and chains round her neck.'
'And what was she wearing that night?' 'Most of it, I assume. Rings. Yes, she always wore rings. That night, too.' Kramer shifted, ill at ease. The policeman watched him in silence.
'Yes?' Kramer coughed, changing position.
Frølich studied the man for a few more seconds. 'And you're sure she was wearing jewellery that night? Would you swear to it?' he asked.
'Of course.' Kramer's eyelids moved slowly up and back down… up…
'When she came back to the car, was she wearing jewellery?'
'I reckon so. But I didn't check her over.'
'So you're not sure if she was wearing jewellery when she came back?'
'I can't swear to it that she was.'
'But did you ask her what she had been doing outside?'
'No.'
'Why not?'
'It didn't occur to me.'
'It didn't occur to you?'
'No.' Henning Kramer shrugged. 'She might have been for a pee or perhaps she had just been stretching her legs.'
'Did she h
ave anything else with her? A handbag?'
'Yes, she did. Not a handbag, but a small shoulder bag with a long strap that she wore across her back. I remember that well.'
Frølich nodded. 'When did you set off back home?'
'It must have been just before three or just after. I can't remember. I was shattered so I wanted to get home as fast as possible.'
'Where did you take her?'
'Not so far. She wanted to get out at the roundabout over the E6 - the one by Hvervenbukta where you turn off for Holmlia.'
'That's less than a kilometre from where she was found murdered,' the policeman said.
Kramer nodded.
Frølich cleared his throat. 'I have to ask you once again,' he said slowly. 'Are you positive you dropped her at this place?'
Kramer cleared his throat. 'Yes,' he answered.
Frølich scrutinized him again. 'Why did you drop her there of all places?'
'She wanted to walk to Ole's place. Ole lives in Holmlia. Not sure what the address is. But she wanted to go to Ole's and walk the last bit on her own. She said she didn't want him to see me, if he was waiting for her.'
'Why not?'
'He would have made a scene, I suppose.'
'And then?'
'I drove off.' Kramer paused. All of a sudden he seemed overcome by emotion. Frølich tried to imagine how he would have behaved in a situation like this. Regardless of whether the young man was telling the truth or not, it was clear that this conversation was a strain. It had started off quite light, with philosophical babble about the dead girl's attitude to life. Even the conversation about their love-making had gone smoothly. One thing was certain, though. It wasn't smooth any more. Kramer seemed very moved; his lips were quivering. 'She waved.' He fell silent again; his lips were still quivering. Frølich studied his face and said: 'Did you notice any other cars when you dropped her? Was there anyone following you?'
Kramer considered the questions, then shook his head slowly. 'I may have met the odd taxi down on the motorway. No, I don't know. It all seemed very quiet, but when I set out I'm sure I met a number of cars.'
'But you can't remember anything else about them?'
'No, I just drove, listened to music and drove.'
'And you didn't see her again?'
'No.'
'Did she stand waving to you as you drove off?'
'She wasn't standing. She was walking and she waved.' Kramer's lips quivered again. 'And I didn't see her again,' he concluded.
'Tell me the exact spot where you dropped her.'
Kramer cleared his throat and closed his eyes. 'We passed the car park by Hvervenbukta, the one on the left hand side as you're driving into town.'
'Along Ljansbrukveien?'
'Yes, I suppose that's what it's called… We went on, towards the roundabout and the bridge over the E6, and then she said: I'll jump out here. And then…' Kramer cleared his throat again.'… then I drove around the roundabout and across the bridge over the E6…'
'Yes…' Frølich said patiently.
'I stopped at the end of the bridge where I would turn left to get down on to the motorway. She got out there.' Kramer went quiet.
'Go on,' Frølich said.
'Well, I joined the motorway and didn't see her again.'
'You said she started walking up…'
'Yes.' 'When you last saw her she was walking up the Ljabru road towards Holmlia?'
'Yes.'
'But then she would have had to go through a long tunnel, wouldn't she?'
Kramer looked up. He weighed the possibility and gave a slow nod.
'Yes, she must have done.'
Frank shifted his sitting position. 'It's quite a long way to Holmlia from there. She must have gone through the long tunnel and then up Holmliaveien. Now I don't remember whether there's a pavement in the tunnel, but it sounds very impractical to be dropped off before the tunnel…'
'I don't know the area,' Henning Kramer interrupted.
'But nevertheless,' Frølich said. 'It's two to three kilometres from the roundabout up to Holmlia. Why didn't you drive her all the way?'
'She asked to be dropped at the roundabout.'
Frølich sat observing him for a while.
Kramer stared back and coughed. 'Perhaps she went through the woods,' he suggested. 'Perhaps she took a short cut.'
'But I thought you said she started walking up the Ljabru road?' 'Yes, I did, but there must be a short cut through the woods.'
'It's possible, but did you see her walking through the woods?'
'No, all I know is she insisted on being dropped at the roundabout.'
Frølich desisted with that line of enquiry and checked his notes. 'A car followed you to Ingierstrand, is that right?'
'No.'
'I thought you said you couldn't be on your own in the car park.'
'That was just a car parked there. A couple out for a drive, like us, I would guess.'
'So there were two people in the car?'
'No. No idea. I didn't see if there were two or five people in the car. I didn't look.'
'Did you see what kind of car it was?'
'Don't remember. Ordinary car, saloon, Japanese or Ford or Opel, just a bog-standard car.'
'Colour?'
Kramer shrugged. 'No idea, dark, it was night - not much light.'
'The car didn't follow you from Ingierstrand?'
'Don't think so. We were alone in the car park anyway.'
Frølich ran this through his mind again. 'When you drove back from the place where you had intercourse, what did you talk about?'
'Nothing.'
'Nothing at all?'
'No.'
'You didn't even discuss where she was going to go or what she would say to her boyfriend if he asked?'
'No.'
Frølich gave a slow nod, regretful that he had done this interview on his own. He let out a deep sigh.
'What's the matter?' Kramer asked innocently.
'I'm afraid your status has changed. You were a witness, but now you're a suspect.'
Henning Kramer said nothing.
'Did you hear what I said?' Frølich asked.
'Katrine was the only person I have loved…'
^That's not how it works,' Frølich said, wearied. 'Katrine was found murdered and in a condition that suggests the murder was sexually motivated. In nine out of ten such cases the murder is committed with the intention of concealing another crime, in other words, rape. And now you claim that you had consensual sex a few hours before she was found murdered.'
'We did.' 'Well, that's possible, but the public prosecutor, the judge or the jury may not see that in the same way.'
'But what should I do?'
'At any event you will have to sign a statement and give a DNA sample. And then you'll have to think about all the exact timings. They have to be as precise as possible because we will have to cross-check your statement with those of other witnesses. So if you can remember anybody or cars with passengers or anything that would corroborate what you have said to me, then things would look a bit brighter.'
Kramer stared darkly into the distance.
'Where did you go after dropping her off?'
'Home.'
'Where's that?'
'In Holmen, Stasjonsveien.'
'Is that your brother's place?'
'No, I live there with my mother.'
'Is it your mother's or your place?'
'My mother's.'
Frølich nodded and made a note. 'Was there anything Katrine said that night, anything at all, that made you uneasy or that you wondered about or you didn't understand…'
Kramer sat with his eyes closed. He was sweating.
Once again Frølich rued not having a partner with him.
'There was one thing…' Kramer began.
'Yes?'
'She had a secret.'
'Uh-uh.'
'I'm trying to think. There was something about the electricity in the air wh
en we met that night
'When you picked her up?'
'I asked her if she had won at bingo because she seemed so high and, like, happy, but she hadn't. She said something wonderful had happened.'
'Something wonderful?'
'Yes, and so I asked what it was, but she just shook her head and said she would tell me later.'
'Later?'
Kramer nodded.
'Was it your impression it was connected with the party?'
Kramer shook his head.
'Have you any theories as to what she might have meant?'
'Not an inkling.'
Frølich held out his hand peremptorily.
'Eh?'
'The car keys,' Frølich said in a gentle tone. 'You may not remember a lot of witnesses, but you do have one - the most important one for us in such cases. And that's the car.'
* * *
Chapter Eleven
Naming the Thug
Elise Hermansen was obviously flustered when she came in. She stood in the doorway peering around. 'I've never been inside a police station before,' she apologized in an anxious voice, stroking her newly coiffured hair.
'You'll be fine,' Gunnarstranda said. He took her elbow and guided her towards the table in the middle of the floor. 'Please take a seat. Is there anything you would like? Coffee, for example?'
'No, thanks,' she said, sitting down. 'Do I really have to go through this?'
Gunnarstranda considered the question. 'You don't have to, but it would be nice if you would take the trouble.' He walked over to his desk, opened a drawer and took out a pile of photographs. He stood by the desk in silence for a few seconds, but when she showed no intention of answering, he continued: 'From your description the man who entered your agency was about forty years old, five-foot-eleven, wore an earring and was well-built, not fat.'
Elise Hermansen nodded.
'Well-built, but not fat,' Gunnarstranda repeated, looking her in the eye. 'Like the policeman you spoke to first - Frank Frølich?' Gunnarstranda gestured towards Frølich, who had just entered and was closing the door behind him.
Elise Hermansen blushed, gave a nervous smile and fluttered her eyelids.
Frølich grinned. 'Do you think I'm fat… rather than well-built? Was he slimmer than me?'
Elise Hermansen was reassured by Frølich’s smile. 'I like men to be more than skin and bone,' she said with more relaxed intonation. 'Let's say he was narrower round the waist than you.'