Strangers: A Novel(78)
The ringing of my phone interrupts me. A number that seems vaguely familiar, it’s not Nadine’s, it’s—
“Gabor.” Erik has reached for the phone; the light of the screen illuminates his face and makes him seem even paler.
I hold out my hand. Erik briefly hesitates, then places the phone into it. Nods to me.
“Frau Berrigan!” Gabor sounds as though he’s incredibly relieved to hear my voice. “How are you?”
“I’m … not so good,” I stammer, turning on the loudspeaker of the phone.
“I’m very sorry to hear that. Then I guess there hasn’t been any sign of life from Erik?”
“No.” It probably says a lot about my state of mind that I now tend to start crying any time I’m not consciously holding back the tears. “What about you?” I sob. “Have you heard anything?”
“Unfortunately not. But we still can’t give up hope.” He clears his throat. “Listen, Frau Berrigan, did the police come to see you too?”
I exchange a quick glance with Erik. Should I lie? Or tell the truth? If Gabor is having the house watched, then he’ll know that I’m here and have had two visitors today.
Erik shakes his head gently.
“No,” I whisper. “I’m not at the house, after all. But I did speak to an officer over the phone, because I wanted to know if there was any news.”
“I understand.” Gabor sounds thoughtful. “Where are you then, Frau Berrigan? Is someone looking after you?”
“I’m with friends,” I say, a little too quickly perhaps. But using the plural is good. “They’re taking great care of me; I have everything I need.”
“That’s very reassuring to hear.” Gabor’s voice has sunk an octave. “But you should be prepared for the police getting in touch again. I had a visit from some officers this afternoon, because someone came up with the absurd theory that my company might be involved in the attack.” He laughed briefly. “I’d love to know where they got that idea from; I think I could make it abundantly clear to them that it’s complete nonsense. It’s shocking how far some people will go to hurt others.”
I don’t say anything, I fear my voice might betray me.… Does he know? Or suspect it, at least? Is he indirectly asking me if I was the one who tipped off the police?
“In any case, you should know they’ll be wanting to speak to you too. After all, Erik did … I mean, he does work for me.”
He corrected himself hastily, but his slip of the tongue doesn’t escape me, and it’s by far the best thing about this conversation. For Gabor, Erik is a thing of the past, he believes he’s dead.
“Yes,” I say. “Thank you.”
“If you need anything, please contact me at any time. Will you promise me that? I’d really like to help you; after all, I’m the reason why Erik was in Munich…” He sighs. “Believe me, I’m struggling a great deal with that.”
I see Erik’s jaw muscles clench. “I can imagine,” I reply. “Thank you again, I really appreciate your offer.”
Erik springs to his feet soon as I’ve ended the call. “That asshole! The way he’s always trying to find out where you are!” He turns around to me. “We have to be careful, Jo. He definitely thinks it’s possible that you set the police onto him, and then he’d also have to assume that you know more than is good for him. Maybe he doesn’t believe that you’re staying with friends. He might send someone by to check.”
I find myself holding my breath again. I listen for sounds from outside, but everything is quiet. “What should I do?”
36
How often have I asked myself that very question these past few days? What should I do? What can I do? Although, until now, it had mostly been about Joanna not remembering me. Now it was about our survival.
Our. In the past, I’d never been truly conscious of how far-reaching the consequences of this one single word could be. It’s only now, where the our I’d taken for granted had suddenly broken up into a she and an I, that I recognize its true meaning. How fundamental it is, that feeling of being loved.
“Maybe we should hide somewhere in the house for the night. Who knows what Gabor might be planning.”
Joanna brushes a strand of hair back from her forehead. “You really think he’d send someone over here?”
“I don’t know, Jo. I couldn’t even hazard a guess anymore at what he’s going to do or what he’s capable of. The fact is, we have to hold out until tomorrow evening. Until then, we should try to avoid taking risks wherever possible.”
“But if he’d go that far, wouldn’t he have—” The doorbell rings, stopping Joanna midsentence. We look at each other, as if each of us thought the other must know who it is. Joanna is about to turn away, but I put my hand on her arm.
“Wait,” I say, quietly. “Don’t go to the door, I’m going upstairs to see who it is.”
I sneak through the hall and up the stairs, carefully but swiftly, taking two steps at a time. As I go reach the window in the bathroom, the bell rings again. I tentatively open the curtain a tiny bit, just enough so I can peer down through the gap.
Two men wearing jeans and short jackets are standing outside the front door. I don’t know either of them, I’m certain of that.