The Quarry

49

Per was on his way to see Nilla, but had stopped in Borgholm and was just going into the library when Gerlof rang about his discovery in one of Jerry’s magazines. It sounded promising, but Per was intending to search for Markus Lukas in the phone books in the library. The name wasn’t listed in any of the books covering southern Sweden, so he started looking for the name Jerry had mentioned in the car, Moleng Noar.

The name sounded Asiatic, like a Chinese restaurant. He flicked through the Yellow Pages for Malmö, but couldn’t find any restaurants with that name.

Hans Bremer had lived in Malmö, he remembered. He leafed through the section containing residential numbers, reached B and found Bremer, Hans with the address given as Terränggatan 10B.

He noted down the address, then went back to thinking about the name. Moleng Noar.

He picked up his pen and tried out different spellings:

Molang-noor

Mu-Lan Over

Moo Leng Noer

But it was no good, none of those names were in the phone book.

Or could it be a French name, a variation on Moulin Rouge, for example? He tried the French spelling: Moulin Noir. The black windmill.

He went back to the phone book, and this time he was in luck. There was actually an advert for the Moulin Noir; it was a night club in Malmö, open from two o’clock in the afternoon until four in the morning; SHOW EVERY HALF-HOUR, it said.

A sex club. It couldn’t be anything else.

Had Jerry owned the club? He hadn’t mentioned it to Per, but nothing would surprise him.

He wrote down the address. He would go to Malmö today, but first he would stop off at the hospital. Six days to go until the operation.

Per couldn’t get in to see Nilla straight away; there were nurses with her taking samples for more tests. He had to sit and wait until they had finished.

The waiting room wasn’t empty; there was one other person there. A woman of about sixty-five was sitting on the sofa opposite him with her head bowed, clutching a folded woollen sweater. It wasn’t the first time he’d had to wait with someone else, and it was always awkward — each knowing why the other was sitting there, but neither having the strength or the inclination to acknowledge it.

They were relatives, and they were waiting for news. Perhaps the woman opposite him was taking a break from all the major and minor symptoms floating around the ward.

Per ought to sign himself off work on the grounds that he had a sick child to care for; if he’d had the strength, he would have done so. But Marika had said she was signed off work at the moment, and he didn’t know if both parents could claim at the same time. There was bound to be some regulation about that. In the meantime he would just have to carry on making stuff up.

The woman suddenly looked at him. ‘Are you Nilla’s dad?’

Per nodded.

‘I’m Emil’s grandmother... he’s talked about Nilla.’ Her smile was slightly strained. ‘It seems as if they’ve become quite good friends.’

‘That’s right...’ In spite of the fact that he was afraid of the answer, he asked, ‘How are things with Emil?’

The woman stopped smiling. ‘They’re not saying much... all we can do is wait.’

Per nodded again, but didn’t say any more.

Everyone was waiting. There was nothing to say.

Eventually he was allowed in.

Nilla was lying in the darkness holding her lava stone; she raised a hand to wave at him. It was probably his imagination, but Per thought that the arms protruding from her hospital gown were thinner, that her chest had somehow collapsed.

‘How’s it going?’

‘Not so bad.’

‘Are you in any pain?’

Nilla looked down at the black stone. ‘Not right now... not much.’ She sighed. ‘But I’m so tired of all the horrible stuff. Of the pain, of the doctors and nurses always wanting me to describe it. They keep on asking me where the pain is, and what it feels like. Is it a stabbing pain, or does it sting, or is it more like a cramp? It’s like some kind of exam, and I’m no good at it.’

‘It’s not an exam,’ said Per. ‘You can answer however you want.’

‘I know, but when I say the pain is like a black cloud up above me, growing and sucking up the white cloud I’m sitting on, they stop listening... it’s too weird for them.’

They were both silent for a few moments.

‘Nilla, I have to go away for a little while.’

‘Go where? Is it to do with Granddad?’

Per shook his head. He still hadn’t told Nilla her grandfather was dead. That could wait.

‘I’m going down to Malmö... there’s something I have to do. But I’ll be back tomorrow night.’