The conversation was over and Pedersen should have made a move to leave but he did not. Instead he squirmed on his chair, preparing to utter words that never came.
When the silence became embarrassing, Simonsen said, “Well, what is it? Come on, out with it, Arne. I don’t have oceans of time and you don’t either.”
“No, I know that … it’s just that … I’ve always thought it unpleasant to be reprimanded by you.”
“That’s the damn point. It should be unpleasant. But that’s over now. What’s your point? Hopefully not that I should feel sorry for you.”
“No, of course not. Not like that. But I was thinking about Pauline … I mean, it’s my responsibility … I mean, I was the one who led the way to the classroom where we found Clausen and—” He stopped short again.
“And what?”
Finally he came out with it: “And I would hope that you wouldn’t feel the need to say anything to her. That is, I hope it’s enough to have talked with me.”
Simonsen had not even considered confronting Berg about the matter. Now he frowned and stared down at his folded hands and nodded thoughtfully like a stern but just father who in this matter should consider letting mercy go before justice. Unfortunately, his expression stayed intact only until he looked up at Pedersen. Then he broke into a grin.
“In the first place, it took me a long time to summon the nerve to discipline you and—whether or not equal treatment is called for—this is the extent of it. I’m not going to get involved in who is together with whom except for the fact that you have orders to treat Pauline decently because I like her. In contrast to some of the others you’ve thrown yourself over.”
The atmosphere lightened; the boss was gone. Man-talk could resume. Pedersen said with relief, “I know it’s bad, Simon. With my family and my kids and all that. But I’m kind of into her. It’s like someone’s given me a present that I didn’t deserve.”
“Hm, I think you’ve gotten a number of packages before Christmas, from my recollection…”
Simonsen never finished his sentence. Suddenly he was struck by the thought that he had received a present recently. A book on chess, a book he had never expressed any thanks for. He struck his hand against the table with irritation and flushed alarmingly.
Pedersen asked with curiosity, “What is it? Tell me.”
But Simonsen did not obey this injunction. He pointed to the door.
“Absolutely not. It’s a private matter. Go on, get going.”
CHAPTER 35
The woman in the stairwell explained with barely suppressed fury, “The door doesn’t lock. As you can see, the mechanism isn’t working. He asked me to keep an eye on his place while he was gone, as if someone would wander up to the sixth floor for a burglary. But I said yes, I did, in order to be a good neighbor and I’m glad I did. I walked up the stairs twice to take a look and make sure everything was fine but the second time I heard sounds and went in and it turned out to be the television. He had forgotten to turn off his video. Go in and see what your friend was up to, that animal.” A stern finger pointed at the door.
One of the men protested halfheartedly, “We don’t know him that well, we can’t just walk in.”
“Look at his film first and you’ll think the better of it. What about Angelina?”
A sudden gust of wind blew through the stairwell. The door behind the woman opened. The girl’s black hair fluttered in the wind. Silently, without looking right or left, she glided past the men and pushed the neighbor’s door open with her finger. Steadily, without words, she turned around and withdrew with singular dignity, taking her mother with her. The breeze ceased and the twins stared at the locked door. It said EA KOLT JESSEN. She was their cousin. Their at times very insistent and unceasingly demanding cousin, who had called and asked them to come. They entered the apartment without saying anything.
The woman was right. All their hesitation vanished when they saw the video. They sat down heavily on the sofa and waited in a mood of apprehension.
“Do you think Angelina was afraid of us? She didn’t say hello or anything.”
They were used to people being nervous at their appearance. They were both enormous and had powerful, coarse features. In addition, each of them had a droopy eyelid—something they’d had from birth—that gave them a menacing appearance. Then there was their dark biker-style leather clothing—a warm and practical choice for a professional sheep shearer on his way to work, but which was perhaps frightening to a four-year-old girl.
“I don’t know. She didn’t seem like it.”
They sat for a while in silence.
“To hell with it, I can’t stand it.”