"Sit down," Sejer said. "You can smoke if you like. And let me know if you need anything else. Anything at all."
"Thanks," Robert said.
He looked at the grey man. Sejer's towering height was impressive, but he didn't seem threatening. First and foremost, he was here to do his job. That felt good. He had done this before. Robert wasn't unique, not in this place, he was one of many. Sejer wished things were different. That Robert was the first, and for that reason would be remembered.
"The psychologist? He'll come if I call him, Robert."
"It's fine like this."
Sejer nodded, pushing back his grey hair. Robert sensed that behind his quiet demeanour slumbered mighty forces that might be aroused to anger if he didn't cooperate. He was wearing a shirt and tie and discreet charcoal trousers with sharp creases. His grey eyes were calmly scrutinising him.
"There's one thing I want to emphasise regarding this conversation. It might not be easy, but I want you to try anyway." He pulled his chair closer to the 207 desk. "Through the whole course of events, as we go over everything that happened, try to avoid referring to the fact that you were drinking heavily all evening, or to how intoxicated you were the whole time. We both know that you were very drunk." He paused and looked at Robert, who was still staring back at him with his eyes wide open, nodding. "And we both know that this wouldn't have happened if you hadn't been drinking." Robert lowered his eyes. He heard his lashes brush his cheek.
"We're simply going to review what happened, as you remember it, without emphasising that you were drunk. Placing the events in the context of your drunken state will come later. Your defence lawyer will take care of that. Do you understand?"
"Yes."
He rubbed his sweaty hands under the desk.
Looked down at his shoes. Prison legs, he thought. Prisoner Robert.
"Let's go over the day that it happened. From when you woke up in the morning until the moment when Anita was lying dead on the floor. As detailed as you can. Take all the time you need," he added.
Robert began. "The alarm clock went off at ten to eight." My voice, he thought. It's the voice of a child. So shrill and strange-sounding. "I'm usually 208 tired in the morning. But it was Friday. It's easier on Friday," he said, smiling, "knowing that it's almost the weekend. We were planning a party. The day before, at work. And Anita said yes. She had got out of a baby-sitting job. And the landlord was gone, so we had the whole house to ourselves. Well," he took a deep breath, "it was an ordinary day. I was feeling good. Better than usual."
"Why was that?"
"Because of . . . Anita."
It took great effort to say Anita's name out loud. Anita. Anita. If only the name could be erased from all the files in the world. There were lots of Anitas. Each time he heard the name, it all came back to him. And knocked him flat.
"All the same," he said, clearing his throat, "I had a suspicion that it wasn't going to last. For ever, I mean. And if I thought about that, I felt resigned. Sometimes I thought about that."
"Why?" Sejer wanted to know. "Why did you feel resigned?"
"Anita was . . . great. I didn't need anyone better than her. But deep inside I knew that soon she was going to run off and find somebody else. Someone better than me. Sooner or later."
"How could you be certain of that?" Sejer looked at the boy's shoulders. They were hunched up, as if against a cold wind.
209.
"She acted the way most girlfriends do, but she wasn't exactly excited about me. It was a matter of time before she chose Andreas. Or Roger, or someone else. I guess that's the way it is when you have lots to choose from. I've never had lots to choose from. That's why this was so important to me. Having a girlfriend. No, not just having a girlfriend, I've had them before. But to have Anita." Sejer leaned his chin on his hand. "Was Anita the prettiest girlfriend you've ever had?"
"I suppose she was. She always attracted attention, when I walked down the street with her. People would look at her hair and everything. And then they'd look at who was with her. Who the guy was with a girl like that."
Sejer studied him intently. The narrow face and the thin hair that hadn't been combed in a long time and was now sticking out in every direction. Dark blue eyes, flitting all over the room. A streak of a mouth, almost colourless. Thin fingers with nails bitten to the quick. Practically a child.
"How did your day at work go?"
"As usual. There's a lot to do on Fridays. I called Anita during my lunch break. Not because I had anything special to say, but I liked being able to call her when I felt like it. She worked at the department store. We talked for two or three minutes, then we hung up. I wanted to ask her to wear a dress, but I 210 didn't dare. Didn't want to seem like the controlling type. Girls don't like that. But she came in a dress anyway."
"What time was it when everybody had arrived at your room?"
"About 7.00. Anders arrived later. He works until 7.00, so he was probably there by 7.30. I don't remember exactly."
"What did you do?"
"Drank beer, of course. I mean, we talked. Played music. Discussed things."
"What sort of things?"
"Football. The Joe Cocker concert, which we went to, at the Oslo Spektrum. He was rubbish. We talked about that for a long time. The girls got mad, they thought he was so . . . what did they say? They thought he was great. You know, the way he stood there, with his body twitching like that, as if he had no control over it. They fall for that sort of stuff." Sejer smiled. Robert relaxed. There was still a long way to go before the fateful shot. He was at a moment when he was not yet a murderer, and it felt good to be there and forget about the rest, but it was coming. Like a raging bull, the terrible deed stood tossing its head behind a fragile fence.
"Then we talked about politics. The election. Two of them were going to vote and they were arguing about it. Roger and Greta started to dance. 211 Anita was sitting next to me on the sofa. She sat there the whole time until late in the evening, except when she had to go to the bathroom. You know how girls are when they're drinking." Then he stopped. "I was so happy," he went on, quietly now. "I had everything. I mean it. My room. A job. A girl. Friends. We had two cases of beer . . . er . . . I didn't just have a weekend ahead of me, I had my whole life. Right at that moment I managed to convince myself that it was all going to last. But then I started getting really . . ."
"What were you thinking about," Sejer interrupted him, "when you sat on the sofa with Anita and looked around at everything that was yours?"
"That I could have sat there for ever. And about how everything would be when she left."
"What kind of life did you envision for yourself then?"
"I don't really know." He made an effort.
"Something about starting again. And how hard it would be. That we don't really ever get anywhere, we just have to keep starting over all the time. New job, new friends. New girls. Around and around."
"Then Anita got up and went across the room. What did you think then?"
"That didn't bother me. She could move around if she wanted to. She didn't do anything, but I kept my eye on her. I kept my eye on everybody. On 212 Anders and Roger. They were looking at her, but everybody did that. I don't usually care. And even though I was . .. even though I wanted her all to myself, I didn't say anything, just watched her, and I watched everyone who was looking at her, just to keep tabs on them."
He bent his head and looked down at his prisoner feet.
"Anders was the worst; I know him. And I should have been prepared, but I guess he was jealous. Wanted to tease me a little, maybe. He's always teasing people, but he's not mean. Not at heart."
"What did he do?"
"He went over to Anita and danced with her. I never thought that she shouldn't dance with anyone else, I really didn't. Anders kept an eye on me, wanted to see what I would do. I didn't do anything. But I watched them. I felt really weird," he added.
"In what way weird?"
Robert's body seemed to have sunk a little, and his eyes had taken on a distant look. But he was thinking hard, digging into himself to find out what it was. Sejer said softly, "Can you describe it?"
"It's hard to remember."
"Think back. Imagine yourself there."
"I can see some pictures. But the sound is gone." 213 "What do you mean?"
"I couldn't hear the music any more. But the picture of Anders and Anita was crystal clear."
"Crystal clear?"
"I could see Anita," he said. "But everything else disappeared. She was dancing with Anders. They were dancing very slowly, as if everything was coming to a stop. The light, the sound, I couldn't move, I just looked at Anders and Anita. She had forgotten all about me. Mind you, she was really drunk. I mean, we're not supposed to mention that, but she had forgotten all about me!" There was desperation in his voice.
"But Anders hadn't forgotten about you," Sejer said.
"He was staring at me with a horrible smile. I've seen Anders smile before, but never like that. He had yellow teeth. I didn't smile back. I was thinking about the fact that everything was coming to a stop."
"And then?"
"Then he took a small step back. Pushed Anita away. And I thought, now he's going to leave. But that's not what happened. He raised his hands and grabbed Anita's tits. Grabbed them hard so I could see it."
"What did Anita do?"
"Well, she was really . . . She laughed," he said 214 grimly. "She just laughed. It was already happening. I was going to have to start again. It all seemed so impossible. I would rather die."
"Did you feel that you would rather die?"
"Yes," he said simply.
"What made you think of the shotgun?" He took his time. Tried hard to remember. His efforts to concentrate affected his breathing, which became rapid and shallow.
"When I thought that I'd rather die. I remembered that it was in the cupboard in the hall. It doesn't take long to die, only a second."
"So the idea of getting out the shotgun, that occurred to you when you were thinking about dying?"
"Yes. The landlord had a shotgun in the house. I remembered that it was in the hall."
"At that instant, when you thought about the shotgun, is that when you looked at Anita?"
"They looked so unnatural. There was an eerie light."
"What do you mean by eerie?"
"Like they have in clubs sometimes. A blue, metallic light."
"What did you do?"
"I couldn't see anything in the room, just a bright pathway to the door. Suddenly I was standing in the hall. I still couldn't hear anything. 215 The only sound was a faint prickling. Like . . . ants in my eyes," he said. "I know that I shouted something at Anders, but I can't remember what. I opened the door. The shotgun was there, as it always was. Nice and shiny. All assembled. Waiting for me."
"And the ammunition?"
"Several boxes. They were up on the shelf." His voice was hoarse and breathy. Sejer had to strain to hear him.
"Do you remember any feelings or thoughts from that moment?"
"No feelings. I was dead."
"What do you mean?"
"My face started shrinking. I remember my skin getting tight around my mouth. It was awful. I thought I had to stop time so I wouldn't have to start all over again."
"How were you going to stop time?"
"With a huge bang," he whispered. "If I fired a shot, there would be a huge bang. And everybody would wake up." He ran his hand over his forehead. "A bang. That would wake us up."
"Were you all asleep?"
"Everybody was in slow motion. About to vanish."
"You loaded the shotgun and went back into the room. What did you see?"
216.
"Everyone looking at me. I liked it, the fact that they had to pay attention to me. They stopped smiling. Everyone except Anders."
"Did you hear anything?"
"My name. Someone shouted. It was far away." Sejer leaned across the desk. "Why did you raise the shotgun and take aim?"
"I don't know . . ."
"Think hard, Robert. Why did you raise the shotgun?"
"I needed that bang!"
"But you took aim," Sejer said. "You could have aimed at the ceiling. But you aimed at Anders."
"Yes!"
"You aimed at Anders and pulled the trigger. Why?"
"I don't know. I can't say why!"
In a shrill, heart-rending voice he begged Sejer to stop.
"We're just trying to understand," Sejer said. "I won't laugh. I won't get rough with you. I just want to understand."
Robert sobbed and sniffed, concentrating on the blotting pad, which showed a map of the world. His gaze fell on the snow-white, ice-cold Antarctic.
"I was in a rage when I went to get the shotgun. It would have looked so pathetic if I aimed at the ceiling."
217.
His head fell towards his chest. Sejer leaned back. His expression didn't change, but Robert wasn't looking at him anyway. He was still in the icy wasteland.
"I pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. The safety catch was on. It goes on automatically when you put the shotgun together. I remembered about that and took it off. I thought it was so embarrassing," he whispered. "That I made such a mistake. Forgot about the safety catch."
"Didn't you notice that Anders was hiding behind Anita?"