The owner is a little surprised as he looks over at the knife and nods. Nathan unpacks the plastic tube and cuts off a large piece. Then he leaves the rest of the tube on the counter.

"Will you bring that tomorrow as well?"

"Sure."

He hesitates and his wife opens her mouth, but Nathan smiles at her before she has time to say anything.

"See you tomorrow."

Nathan smiles at them both and leaves the shop with the tube and the duct tape. When he hears the familiar sound of the bell, he stops for a while to look at it. He sighs and smiles and then walks over to his car. He stops in front of one of the gas pumps, but moves on.

"I wonder if I need to bring him some gas too."

The shop owner looks at his wife.

"He knows we'll help him with anything. He can just call us if he needs us."

"He must become hungry soon. He didn't bring any dinner."

"I'm sure he brought some take away from the city. How about you? Are you hungry?"

"Oh, yes. You know I'm always hungry."

He smiles and pats her on the bottom.

Nathan feels the weak rays from the sun against his skin and on the last part of the ride, he takes in every little thing. He doesn't drive all the way up to the house, but stops on the small turning s.p.a.ce just before. His front window is filled with the most beautiful scenery he knows, and he feels incredibly lucky that he owns it. No matter how much Denize and him travelled, there was never a view as beautiful as this one. Sometimes they had brought a couple of chairs and their coffee to the turning s.p.a.ce to enjoy the sunset. In the winter they would freeze as they waited for the bright and shiny stars to come out. Then they would go inside, light a fire in the fireplace and fall asleep on the couch in each other's arms. He shivers and his face reflects the mixture of pain, longing and helplessness that he feels when he realizes how much he misses their intimacy. He gets out of the car, opens the trunk and takes out the duct tape and the plastic tube. Then he closes the trunk carefully and stands there for while with his hand on the black paint. He examines the plastic tube and then seems to make up his mind and grabs hold of it. He has read enough police reports to know what to do. He takes one end of the tube and presses it over the exhaust pipe. It's not hard. He pulls at it a little and, with a weird sound, it slides off the hot exhaust pipe. He gets up and fetches a bottle of water from the car. He looks at it for a while, trying to remember where and when he bought it. He gives up and instead screws off the cap of the bottle and pours the water over the exhaust pipe. He hears a sizzling sound when the water hits the pipe and keeps pouring. Then the bottle is empty, and the water has formed a small puddle on the dusty ground. Nathan looks around and then kicks the ground with the tip of his shoe and the dust settles on the water. There is also a thin layer of dust on his black, well-polished shoe. He bends down and carefully touches the exhaust pipe. Then he pushes the tube back on it and wraps duct tape around both the tube and the exhaust pipe. He looks around for something to cut the tape with, then he shrugs, wraps the tape around a few more times and leaves the rest of it hanging from the exhaust pipe.

"Even now I'm a man of details and perfection."

He looks at the roll of tape dangling from the exhaust pipe. He breathes heavily, gets back into the car and closes the door. He sits there for a long time as the sun moves down under the horizon, and slowly sinks behind the mountains. The shadows of the tree tops over the lake become long and dusk approaches. He nods slowly.

"It's time."

He turns the key in the ignition and when the shadows of the trees reach the car, Nathan can smell the underground parking lot again. When the light from the sun becomes pink and pale blue, Nathan's lungs contract in a violent cough. Then there's just fatigue and darkness closes around the car. The car lights shine brightly on the trees, and a there's a faint shimmer of light on the surface of the lake. The stars shine brighter, but Nathan's empty eyes can no longer see the beauty of them. The car engine slows down and then stops. The trees remain lit for a long time before the beam of light on the lake slowly fades and disappears. A faint glow from the car lights shines on the dust in front of the car and then the only light that remains comes from the stars over Nathan's head.

Chapter 22.

The coffee cup has been empty for a long time when Fredericsson finally arrives. He has been driving for over two hours and wonders if anyone is still left in the apartment. His boss had called him back, but had given up and let an officer call him up two more times. He had tried to make them send someone else, but it didn't work. They had been stubborn about doing what the boss had told them. Finally he had given up and decided that he would probably have done the same if he was in their shoes. He feels that luck is finally shining on him when he finds a parking spot just in front of the entrance. While humming a tune he walks over to the door which is opened by an old lady with a walker on her way out. He politely takes a step back and smiles at her, but she just looks mad. He shakes his head. "That's not going to ruin my day." He lets the door fall shut behind him and waits for the click while he looks around and feels his energy slowly returning. Fast steps are coming toward him.

"Excuse me, police?"

Fredericsson turns toward the voice.

"Ahm, yes."

"This way."

A small man with a friendly round face steps back so that Fredericsson can go first.

"There's an elevator on the right."

With a couple of fast steps he walks up to Fredericsson.

"There."

He pushes the b.u.t.ton by the elevator and the doors open.

"It's on the fifth floor."

Fredericsson turns to face him.

"And you are?"

"Oh, I'm the caretaker."

Fredericsson nods absently and the door of the elevator close.

"Stupid me!"

He throws back his head.

"I didn't get his name!"

He slowly shakes his head and pushes out his lower lip. "Rookie mistake, rookie mistake." His focus returns when the doors open and a young officer comes over to meet him. He looks like he hasn't been out of the police academy for more than a couple of years. Fredericsson feels tired again and has to fight to focus as he approaches the apartment. The young officer walks next to him.

"Any chance you're Fredericsson?"

The officer looks at him full of hope. Fredericsson nods.

"About time."

"You think?"

Fredericsson briefly looks him in the eye before taking a look inside the apartment.

"What's the story? And make it short, I want to go home."

"We all do. We've been waiting for you."

Fredericsson gives him a tired look and the officer turns away.

"Let's go inside."

"Skip the part about when you got here and when it was phoned in. I've already heard that twice over the phone."

They enter the apartment and the coroner looks up.

"Fredericsson?"

He nods.

"Can we take him?"

The coroner nods at the couch. Fredericsson looks over there but his eyes stop at the huge gla.s.s stable. He smiles.

"There's white powder all over the place."

"Cocaine, and stronger than anything we have ever seen before. So I expect to see some overdoses in the future."

Fredericsson slowly walks over to the table before squatting down next to it.

"There are rings in the powder from a bottle."

The crime scene investigator is standing right behind him.

"Yes."

The sound of his voice startles Fredericsson. The crime scene investigator squats down next to him and laughs. Fredericsson looks at him.

"I've hardly slept last night. They're dropping like flies these days."

The crime scene investigator tries hard not to laugh.

"Please."

Fredericsson speaks softly and the other man's laugh becomes a crooked smile. He points at the rings in the white powder and then at the white carpet which is stained with blood.

"The pieces of gla.s.s seem to suggest that it's a champagne bottle. And it was used with great force."

He points at the carpet.

"You see that grey stuff over there?"

Fredericsson bends down a little closer. Then he looks up at the crime scene investigator who nods in the direction of Eric. Fredericsson nods.

"It was a good blow."

"But apparently it wasn't enough."

He looks over at the pillow.

"That was found over his face. So my guess is he was choked. Only thing I can't say for sure is what killed him. The bottle, the drugs or the pillow."

"One thing I can say for sure is that he lied to me about his name when I met him yesterday. Twice even. And I'm sure it's the same man."

Fredericsson makes a face.

"Even if there's only half a face left to recognize. Could a woman have done this?"

The crime scene investigator looks at Eric and then at Fredericsson. Then he nods.

"But not a junkie."

"I've seen enough."

Fredericsson gets up and keeps talking.

"I've never been good at handling these situations. I might even dream of him tonight... If I get any sleep, that is."

The crime scene investigator gets up and gives him a friendly slap on the shoulder.

"You're still a young man. What are you, forty?"

Fredericsson looks at him for a long time.

"But I'm feeling ready for retirement."

"Sleep will make you feel better."

"If only they'd let me. When did he die?"

"My colleague checked that. Between twelve and one this afternoon."

"So someone wanted him to be found quickly. The call came at two thirty."

Fredericsson turns away from the body and slowly starts to walk around in the apartment.

"Did you find the bottle?"

Fredericsson looks back at the investigator who has taken off his gla.s.ses and has started cleaning them. He shakes his head.

"There's an empty beer can in the kitchen and half a bag of chips."

He puts his gla.s.ses back on and looks at Fredericsson.

"Tells us he wasn't very organized but not much else."

Fredericsson looks at his pointy face which almost disappears behind his big square gla.s.ses.

"No bottle except for the pieces of gla.s.s."

"You'd better get him out of here. I need to look around a little. I'll be out of here within the next two hours."