Part 20 (2/2)
We work all sorts of hours!
See? Were just so motivated!
Rasmus speaks quietly. Listen, Ive found something.
They turn the light off and he explains as they walk along. Ive loaded a program that searches the whole network for fragments of deleted files.
Back in the server room he shows them a few lines from a file that was probably on Anne-Lises hard disk. In two lines of apparently random characters the word Malene turns up and, a little later on, a sentence: I no longer know myself. I have never experienced hating anyone the way I hate her I might do anything to her she makes me feel sick through and through.
They stand in silence, staring at the screen.
Malene suddenly needs to sit down. You see So whats new?
Iben feels a little groggy owing to lack of sleep. She leans forward over Malenes shoulder. I dont think itll be enough for Paul. He certainly wont admit this as evidence, will he?
No, he wont. He knows perfectly well that she cant stand me. His only reaction so far has been to hand my responsibilities over to her. Like I said: nothing we dont know already.
Rasmus goes off to have a pee. While hes away, they read Anne-Lises latest incoming e-mails. Only two are marked as unread. The first one is a request.
Dear Anne-Lise. I need to know as much as possible about child killings in East Timor. Please collate a list of what is in the library and e-mail it to me as soon as you can. Is tomorrow morning possible? Regards, Tatiana.
Malene quietly deletes it.
The next mail is from Sweden.
Hi, Anne-Lise. Thanks a million for that list. Brilliant! Best, Lotta.
They delete that one too.
Anne-Lise has read all the other e-mails, so they leave them untouched.
Then they both drink some more whiskey before going back to Anne-Lises desk. They keep the lights off this time, ambling about in the dark, happy that the Center is theirs for the time being.
Iben misjudges the layout of the rooms only once. She walks straight into the door between the Winter Garden and the library, forgetting that Malene has closed it. She falls and knocks a few magazine folders off a shelf, but doesnt hurt herself. She gets up quickly. Some magazines have landed on the floor, but putting the light on seems too much ha.s.sle, so she picks up the ones nearby and puts them back any old way. Time enough to sort them out tomorrow.
Malene is back in the library. Iben hears her rummaging over by the readers desks. There is a huge crash.
Malene doesnt laugh out loud, but her voice shakes a little. Oops!
Iben gets the drift at once. Malene has knocked over one of the very tall stacks of books that Anne-Lise has put on the floor while she sorts them.
Iben goes in to check the damage.
Look, it doesnt matter. It kind of fell over, all by itself. Malene seems unfazed.
Iben gives another stack a brisk tap. You mean like this? Oh, look! It fell over too.
Malene gives a third stack a push. Its like the domino effect!
Iben is on her way through the Winter Garden to put the bottle of whiskey back in Pauls cupboard when she hears the whining of the elevator. The sound lasts only a moment, then stops. Someone gets out on their floor.
Iben rushes quietly back to the library. She tells Malene in a loud whisper: Zigic! Its Zigic!
She walks toward Malenes voice, whispering in the dark.
No. No She reaches out and touches Malenes blouse.
No, it cant be.
They stand side by side, holding hands, their backs against the shelving on the far side of the open door to the Winter Garden.
Someone is fiddling with the locks on the front door.
Malenes voice is low. Are all the lights off?
Not in the server room. Where Rasmus is.
I wonder can he hear ?
There are many hiding places in the maze of shelving at the back of the library, but Iben lacks the courage to go there. Once more, she has a fleeting impression of the Centers network of pa.s.sages transforming into the torpedoed submarine as it sinks inexorably into the deep ocean trenches with their intolerable pressure.
The main door opens. The lights are switched on. How can they tell if its Zigic just by listening?
There are two people outside the door. One walks in shoes with hard soles toward Pauls office; the other walks more quietly. The quiet one stops at Malenes desk and rustles through her papers, looking for something.
Iben stands absolutely still, her heart hammering in her chest. The man in the Winter Garden is only a few feet away. She feels the sweat soaking through her top; a drop runs down her leg until its stopped by the tape that holds the knife in place.
A woman speaks: You mustve had something in mind when you drove her to rhus.
Its Helens voice, Pauls wife. Iben relaxes.
Helen is a secondary school teacher. Her looks have faded, but her features and her shock of blond curls still hint at how very good-looking she once was. Her manner has changed as well, and with time shes become rather odd. She always excuses herself from Center get-togethers, such as the Christmas lunch, and always at the last minute.
Pauls voice comes from his office. Just shut up! Stop harping on about it!
Helen is shouting now. Its your fault! You make me like this, the way you keep avoiding my questions. It reminds me.
What utter c.r.a.p!
Iben has never heard Paul speak this way despairing, superior, and angry, like someone telling a disabled child off for pestering them.
Helens voice is still very loud. Maybe theyve been out and she has drunk too much. But its true! You always avoid things thats what you do.
Thats nonsense! Im telling you the truth. End of story. Paul is closer now, somewhere in the Winter Garden. He must have picked up some papers he needs for tomorrow, since hes due to be away from the Center all day.
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