died.â
âDid you notice anything unusual about him?â
âSuch as what?â
âWas he different at all?â
âHe was the same as ever. Didnât say a word more than he had to.â
Lindman hesitated. He shouldnât have lapsed so easily into his role as a police officer. Rumors would get around that there was a policeman
from some distant place, asking awkward questions. Nevertheless, there was one question he simply couldnât resist asking.
âHave you had any other customers lately? Ones you donât usually have?â
âThatâs what the fuzz from Ostersund asked me. And the officer from Sveg. I told âem the way it wasâapart from a few Norwegians and some berry pickers from Belgium last week, I havenât seen a soul here that I didnât know.â
Lindman thanked him, left the shop, and continued towards Sveg. It was dark by now. He was feeling distinctly hungry.
Heâd gotten an answer to one of his questions, though. There was a police presence in Sveg. Even if the investigation was based in Ãstersund.
Â
Â
Shortly before he came to Glissjöberg an elk ran over the road into his headlights. He managed to brake in time. The animal disappeared into the trees at the side of the road. He waited to see if others would follow it, but none did.
He parked outside his hotel. There was a group of men in uniforms chatting away in the lobby. He went up to his room and sat on the bed. Before he knew where he was, he had visions of himself lying in bed with tubes attached to his body and face. Elena was in a chair at the side of his bed, crying.
He jumped up and slammed his fist hard into the wall. Before he knew where he was there came a knock at the door. Another of the test drivers.
âDid you want something?â the man said.
âWhat on earth would I want?â
âYou knocked on the wall.â
âIt must have been from somewhere else.â
Lindman slammed the door in the driverâs face. Iâve made my first enemy in Harjedalen, he thought. Just when I should be concentrating on making friends. That set him thinking. Why did he have so few friends? Why didnât he move in with Elena and start living the life he really yearned for? Why did he lead a life that left him all on his own, now that he was faced with a serious illness? He had no answer to that.
He thought about calling Elena, but decided to eat first. He went down to the dining room and chose a window table. He was the only customer. He could hear the sound from a television set coming from the bar. To his surprise he found that the receptionist had been reincarnated as a
waitress. He ordered a steak and a beer. As he ate, he thumbed through the newspaper heâd bought in Linsell. He read all the way through the obituaries, and tried to imagine his own obituary. He ordered a coffee after the meal, and stared out into the darkness.
He left the dining room and paused in the lobby, wondering whether to go for a walk or return to his room. He chose the latter course. He dialed Elenaâs number. She picked up immediately. Lindman had the impression sheâd been sitting by the phone, waiting for him to call.
âWhere are you?â
âIn Sveg.â
âWhatâs it like there?â she asked, hesitantly.
âCold, and I feel lonely.â
âI donât understand why youâve gone there.â
âNeither do I.â
âCome back home, then.â
âIf I could, Iâd head back right away. But Iâll be here for a few more days.â
âCanât you tell me you miss me, at least?â
âYou know I do.â
He gave her the hotel telephone number, and hung up. Neither of them liked talking on the phone. Their conversations were often short. Even so, Lindman had the feeling she was close by his side.
He was tired. It had been a long day. He untied his laces and kicked his shoes away from