Read Online Don't Look Back by Karin Fossum - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Karin Fossum
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Besides the girl."
"No. Is she sick?" he said suspiciously.
"She's dead, Raymond."
"Too soon, I think."
"That's what we think. Did you see a car or anything driving by the house here in the daytime? Going up or down? Or people walking past? While Ragnhild was here, for example?"
"A lot of tourists come this way. But not yesterday. Only the ones who live here. The road ends at Kollen."
"So you saw no one?"
He thought for a long time. "Well, yes, one car. Just as we were leaving. It zoomed past, like a regular racing car."
"As you were leaving?"
"Yes."
"Going up or down?"
"Down."
Zoomed past here, Sejer thought. But what does that mean to someone who never drives above second gear?
"Did you recognize the car? Was it someone who lives up here?"
"No. They don't drive that fast."
Sejer did some mental calculations.
"Ragnhild was home a little before two, so it might have been around 1:30 P.M., right? It didn't take you very long to go up to the lake, did it?"
"No."
"The car was going fast, you said?"
"It kicked up a cloud of dust. But it's been quite dry lately."
"What kind of car was it?"
Then he held his breath. A car sighting would be something to go on. A car in the vicinity of the crime scene, driving at high speed at a specific time.
"Just an ordinary car," Raymond said, pleased.
"An ordinary car?" Sejer said. "What do you mean, exactly?"
"Not a truck, or a van or anything. A normal car."
"I see. A normal passenger car. Are you good at recognizing makes?"
"Not really."
"What kind of car does your father have?"
"A Hiace,"he said proudly.
"Do you see the police car outside? Can you see what kind it is?"
"That one? You just told me. It's a police car."
Raymond squirmed in his chair and suddenly looked uncomfortable.
"What about the color, Raymond? Did you notice the color?"
He tried hard to remember but gave up, shaking his head.
"It was so dusty. Impossible to see the color," he muttered.
"But could you tell us whether it was dark or light?"
Sejer refused to give up. Skarre kept on writing. He was impressed by the mild tone of voice his boss was using. Normally he was more brusque.
"In between. Maybe brown or gray or green. A dirty color. It was so dusty. You could ask Ragnhild; she saw it too."
"We've already asked her. She also says the car was gray, or maybe green. But she couldn't tell us whether it was old or new."
"Not old and junky," he said firmly. "In between."
"Fine. I understand."
"There was something on the roof," he said suddenly.
"Is that right? What was it?"
"A long box. Flat and black."
"A ski-box maybe?" Skarre suggested.
Raymond hesitated. "Yes, maybe a ski-box."
Skarre smiled and made a note of it, delighted at Raymond's eagerness.
"Good observation, Raymond. Did you get that, Skarre? So your father is in bed?"
"He's waiting for his food now, I think."
"We didn't mean to hold you up. Could we peek in and say hello before we go?"
"Sure. I'll show you the way."
He walked through the living room, and the two men followed. At the end of the hall he stopped and opened a door very gently, almost with reverence. In the bed lay an old man, snoring. His teeth were in a glass on the bedside table.
"We won't disturb him," Sejer said, withdrawing from the room. They thanked Raymond and went out to the courtyard. He trotted after them.
"We might come back again. You've got nice rabbits," Skarre said.
"That's what Ragnhild said. You can hold one if you want."
"Another time."
They waved and then jolted off along the bumpy road. Sejer drummed his fingers on the steering wheel in annoyance.
"That car is important. And the only thing we've got to go on is something 'in between.' But a ski-box on the roof, Skarre! Ragnhild didn't say anything about that."
"Everyone under the sun has a ski-box on their car."
"I don't. Stop at that farm."
They drove up to the house and parked next to a red Mazda. A woman wearing a cap, pants, and rubber boots caught sight of them from
"No. Is she sick?" he said suspiciously.
"She's dead, Raymond."
"Too soon, I think."
"That's what we think. Did you see a car or anything driving by the house here in the daytime? Going up or down? Or people walking past? While Ragnhild was here, for example?"
"A lot of tourists come this way. But not yesterday. Only the ones who live here. The road ends at Kollen."
"So you saw no one?"
He thought for a long time. "Well, yes, one car. Just as we were leaving. It zoomed past, like a regular racing car."
"As you were leaving?"
"Yes."
"Going up or down?"
"Down."
Zoomed past here, Sejer thought. But what does that mean to someone who never drives above second gear?
"Did you recognize the car? Was it someone who lives up here?"
"No. They don't drive that fast."
Sejer did some mental calculations.
"Ragnhild was home a little before two, so it might have been around 1:30 P.M., right? It didn't take you very long to go up to the lake, did it?"
"No."
"The car was going fast, you said?"
"It kicked up a cloud of dust. But it's been quite dry lately."
"What kind of car was it?"
Then he held his breath. A car sighting would be something to go on. A car in the vicinity of the crime scene, driving at high speed at a specific time.
"Just an ordinary car," Raymond said, pleased.
"An ordinary car?" Sejer said. "What do you mean, exactly?"
"Not a truck, or a van or anything. A normal car."
"I see. A normal passenger car. Are you good at recognizing makes?"
"Not really."
"What kind of car does your father have?"
"A Hiace,"he said proudly.
"Do you see the police car outside? Can you see what kind it is?"
"That one? You just told me. It's a police car."
Raymond squirmed in his chair and suddenly looked uncomfortable.
"What about the color, Raymond? Did you notice the color?"
He tried hard to remember but gave up, shaking his head.
"It was so dusty. Impossible to see the color," he muttered.
"But could you tell us whether it was dark or light?"
Sejer refused to give up. Skarre kept on writing. He was impressed by the mild tone of voice his boss was using. Normally he was more brusque.
"In between. Maybe brown or gray or green. A dirty color. It was so dusty. You could ask Ragnhild; she saw it too."
"We've already asked her. She also says the car was gray, or maybe green. But she couldn't tell us whether it was old or new."
"Not old and junky," he said firmly. "In between."
"Fine. I understand."
"There was something on the roof," he said suddenly.
"Is that right? What was it?"
"A long box. Flat and black."
"A ski-box maybe?" Skarre suggested.
Raymond hesitated. "Yes, maybe a ski-box."
Skarre smiled and made a note of it, delighted at Raymond's eagerness.
"Good observation, Raymond. Did you get that, Skarre? So your father is in bed?"
"He's waiting for his food now, I think."
"We didn't mean to hold you up. Could we peek in and say hello before we go?"
"Sure. I'll show you the way."
He walked through the living room, and the two men followed. At the end of the hall he stopped and opened a door very gently, almost with reverence. In the bed lay an old man, snoring. His teeth were in a glass on the bedside table.
"We won't disturb him," Sejer said, withdrawing from the room. They thanked Raymond and went out to the courtyard. He trotted after them.
"We might come back again. You've got nice rabbits," Skarre said.
"That's what Ragnhild said. You can hold one if you want."
"Another time."
They waved and then jolted off along the bumpy road. Sejer drummed his fingers on the steering wheel in annoyance.
"That car is important. And the only thing we've got to go on is something 'in between.' But a ski-box on the roof, Skarre! Ragnhild didn't say anything about that."
"Everyone under the sun has a ski-box on their car."
"I don't. Stop at that farm."
They drove up to the house and parked next to a red Mazda. A woman wearing a cap, pants, and rubber boots caught sight of them from
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