‘Well, I’ve been trying to call him but none of the numbers I’ve got seem to work, so I thought maybe you might know where he is?’
He shook his head and did his best not to meet her gaze.
‘Sorry, I haven’t seen him for a while …’
She frowned. Two fires, Henke missing and now thoroughly decent Manga lying to her face. Something was going on, and it was time that she found out what.
But just as she was about to open her mouth, Manga interrupted her.
‘Listen, Rebecca, now that you’re here there’s something I’ve been wanting to say for ages.’
‘Okay,’ she said warily.
She really didn’t have time for any latterday declarations of love, but on the other hand she needed his help now. Patience, Normén!
‘Well, Rebecca … I’ve always … I mean … oh, bugger …’
He took a deep breath and seemed to pull himself together.
‘You and Dag, all that business that happened with HP … well, you know?’
‘Mmm,’ she replied neutrally.
‘Well … I’ve sort of always … wanted to apologize to you. Dag and I were cousins, of course, and, well, you met him through me, and …’
He looked down at the counter. She suddenly felt sick. Probably the heat.
‘I mean,’ he sighed, making a last attempt, ‘I-I’ve always felt a b-bit guilty about it all,’ he stammered. ‘That it was sort of my fault, if you know what I mean?’
He shot her a pleading look and she had absolutely no idea how to respond.
‘Dag was older than me, of course, and we weren’t exactly close, b-but I knew perfectly well what sort of person he was. There were rumours about him, that he could be violent and … that his dad left because Dag beat him up. I mean, there was a lot of talk, but I never dared say anything … to you, I mean.’
He was looking down at the counter again.
Rebecca took a deep breath.
What did he expect her to say?
The feeling of nausea was getting worse. The air in the shop was stuffy and her top was starting to stick to her. She needed to put a stop to this discussion and get the conversation back on track, and fast.
‘Listen, Manga,’ she said, as calmly as she could. ‘We all make our own decisions, you, me, Henke and Dag. Right or wrong, we made our choices and in the end we each have to take the consequences. I was the one who fell in love with Dag, it was my decision to move in with him, and I was the one who didn’t report him when things started to go wrong. It was my responsibility.’
The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the bastard painful truth, she thought bitterly. Okay, enough of that!
‘Getting back to Henke, I was wondering …’
‘But you don’t get it!’ he interrupted in a shaky voice. ‘HP told me he was thinking of killing him. That he was thinking of killing Dag! He told me what the bastard had done to you and how much he hated him. And I, I didn’t do anything. I didn’t try to stop him, I didn’t tell anyone, and then it all went to hell. Dag dead, HP in prison, and you …’
He stopped and looked at her sadly.
‘You didn’t get away scot-free either, Rebecca.’
He fell silent and she gave him a few seconds to pull himself together. Mind you, she needed the pause just as much herself. Waves of nausea were washing over her with full force now and she had to close her eyes for a few seconds to get her gag-reflex under control.
‘The only person who got out in one piece was me,’ he went on. ‘For me life just carried on almost as if nothing had happened. If I’d just opened my mouth, told s-someone what HP was going on about, then maybe everything would have been different? I could at least have told him to cool it. But I didn’t. I don’t really know why I didn’t. All I know is that I could have done more to stop it happening. Much more!’
He fell silent again and seemed to be studying a random section of the cork matting.
Bloody hell, this conversation was nothing like what she’d expected.
Suddenly the sounds of all the computers and gadgets combined into one single enervating, piercing note that seemed to penetrate her head and nail her brain to the inside of her skull.
She screwed up her eyes, swallowed a couple of times and, when she’d regained control of her body, pushed her way past Manga and into the little cubbyhole she’d glimpsed behind the bead-curtain.
Lukewarm water from a dirty glass. Long, restorative gulps that rinsed all unwelcome thoughts away. Pull yourself together, for God’s sake, Normén!
Even if Manga seemed to be in desperate need of a confessional, she certainly hadn’t come here for anything like this. Chewing it all over and wallowing in the past. The really sick thing was that she only had to say a few words and she could absolve him from some of his sins. Tell him who the real murderer was. But something told her that the truth wouldn’t set either of them free, and certainly not her.
Better to return to the present, focus on the task at hand and get out of here. If she could just get hold of Henke, things would sort themselves out, she was convinced of that, without really knowing why.
She refilled the glass and put in on the counter beside Manga. He seemed to have used her absence to pull himself together. His eyes still looked a bit red, but his face was more or less back to its usual colour.
He drank in silence.
‘I can see the way you’re thinking, Manga, but I honestly don’t think anyone could have stopped things from happening,’ she said slowly. ‘It just turned out the way it did, and we all have to try to move on. At least that’s what I’ve tried to do.’
She could hear how false her words sounded, but Manga nodded in agreement.
‘Of course, you’re right,’ he said curtly. ‘It feels good to have got it out, anyway, after all this time. Sorry about the tears.’
He smiled forlornly and wiped his nose with the sleeve of his shirt.
‘Don’t worry, it’ll stay between us.’
He smiled again, more relaxed this time, and she took the opportunity to change the subject.
‘Look, are you really sure you haven’t seen Henke?’
Another shake of the head.
‘No, not really …’
She fixed him with her cop’s stare, reluctantly, and it worked instantly.
‘What do you mean, not really, Manga? Have you, or haven’t you seen him?’
Her voice had suddenly lost all its previous softness. It felt a bit mean to apply interrogation tactics now, especially after his emotional outburst, but she didn’t actually have any choice. She had to get hold of Henke, and didn’t have time for any more distractions.
‘Not for a few days,’ he muttered morosely, staring at the floor, and as far as she could tell that was probably the truth. She looked round and sniffed at the smell of smoke.
‘Listen, those kids who set fire to your shop …’
She said it very slowly, fixing him with her stare. He wriggled like a worm on a hook, but she had no intention of letting him get away.
‘Is it the same kids who set fire to Henke’s flat?’
‘Yes … er, I mean no, or rather …’
His eyes were flitting about, and he suddenly didn’t seem