Watching You(57)

Molly Blom said: ‘… back, externally patched up, but more warped than ever inside. And with an appearance that no one recognises.’

Sam Berger said: ‘I understand you wanting to punish me. There’s nothing in my life I’ve regretted as much as that moment when I fled from …’

The film cut out abruptly, and Berger and Blom returned just as abruptly to their staring.

August Steen turned the screen back, and looked at Blom with absolute neutrality. ‘I’m trying to understand this. Can you explain it to me, Molly?’

Blom quickly evaluated the amount of information in the short clip. At least it played to her advantage.

‘That’s very odd,’ she said.

‘I think so too. And so did Kent and Roy when they called me. Need I tell you that I was in the middle of my very deepest beauty sleep?’

‘Yes.’

‘I was in the middle of my very deepest beauty sleep.’

‘Shame. Now that I come to think about it, Berger did break the long silence once. But it was more than that. Is the rest missing?’

‘That’s how it looks,’ Steen said, opening his hands.

Blom nodded and her eyebrows frowned.

‘Berger was completely exhausted,’ she said. ‘I’d pushed him hard, after all. Suddenly he came out with some weird story about how he suspected that his ex, Freja, had come back to Sweden in secret, with a new appearance. Then he claimed that I was in league with her and that was why I wanted to punish him. There was some story about him having walked away from his family during one of the twins’ football matches, and that he regretted it more than anything else in his life. Is the rest really missing? I could have done with some help interpreting it. Was he on the point of losing his grip completely? Or was he just playing a game? If the equipment’s on the blink, the technicians had better examine it closely. Don’t tell me I’ve been wasting my time.’

‘Anders Karlberg, our senior technician, has just been down to collect it,’ Steen said. ‘He seemed to agree with you, not for the first time, I might add. Are you still seeing each other?’

‘What did he say about the equipment?’

‘That it looks like some sort of technical fault. Not necessarily a disruptive transmitter.’

‘Good,’ Blom said. ‘But we lost quite a bit there. Mostly crazy talk from an overtired suspect, but, still, things that could be important.’

‘I’m convinced of that,’ Steen said with a sideways glance. ‘He didn’t seem crazy before.’

‘I assume I stared him to pieces.’

Steen frowned, nodded, then drummed his fingers on his desk.

‘Hmm,’ he said. ‘This doesn’t feel good at all.’

‘I completely agree,’ Blom said.

‘It feels odd that Berger should enter some sort of psychosis without any warning, and then just go back to staring. And not least because you conclude by saying wearily “this is getting us nowhere”.’

‘I don’t think it was a psychosis, exactly …’

‘I’m not at all convinced that we’re hearing a mentally unstable man here,’ Steen said. ‘I’m not happy with your explanation, Molly.’

‘It’s the truth,’ Blom said, as calmly as she could. ‘And it’s hardly my fault that the equipment didn’t work.’

August Steen ran a hand over his neatly combed grey hair, then eventually nodded. ‘OK, this sequence will be analysed in minute detail. And Karlberg says his technicians might be able to restore the rest. I’m sending Kent and Roy to the technical team now, they’ll have to spend all night working on it.’

‘I’ll go with them,’ Blom said, making a move towards the door.

‘No,’ Steen said, raising his hand.

‘No?’ Blom said.

‘I don’t think that’s a good idea, Molly. I think it would be best if you went home at once and got some sleep. Be here at nine o’clock tomorrow morning.’

She looked at him and conjured up her most insulted expression.

‘What the hell?’ she said. ‘You think I’m that exhausted? I’ve been through considerably worse.’

‘I know,’ Steen said distantly. ‘But this is what’s happening. No argument. Straight home, Molly. Bed. Nine o’clock sharp tomorrow morning. OK?’

She made a suitably indignant exit and wandered through the corridors with suitably slumped shoulders. Only when she was back at the lift did she raise them again.

OK, she thought, trying to cool down her brain. OK, you’ve always known you really didn’t want to be on the wrong side of August Steen. Rarely had she been on the receiving end of so many passive-aggressive threats. With icy clarity she realised that he had come very close to asking to look in her bag.

She nudged the ceiling hatch aside and retrieved the device. Then she turned to the mirror, looked deep into her eyes and thought: Is it over now? Is my career over? Who would touch a disgraced cop?

She looked down at the fake smartphone. How the hell was it possible that the fucking gizmo hadn’t worked the way it should?

The lift stopped. She stepped out into the corridor and resumed the same miserable posture. She passed the door of Berger’s cell, the door to the interview room, then, round a corner in the corridor, the door to the control room.