The Redbreast

76

Irisveien. 11 May 2000.

Her heart was already beating like a sewing machine gone wild when she picked up the receiver.

'Hi, Signe,' the voice said. 'It's me.'

She felt the tears coming immediately.

'Stop this,' she whispered. 'Please.'

'Until death us do part. That's what you said, Signe.'

'I'm getting my husband.'

The voice gave a chuckle.

'But he's not there, is he.'

She was squeezing the telephone so tight that her hand hurt. How could he know that Even wasn't at home? And how come he only called when Even was out?

The next thought made her throat constrict; she couldn't breathe and she began to feel faint. Was he calling from a place where he could see the house, where he could see when Even went out? No, no, no. With an effort of will, she pulled herself together and concentrated on breathing. Not too quickly, deep breaths. Calm, she told herself, as she had told the injured soldiers who were brought in to them from the trenches; crying, panic-stricken and hyperventilating. She had her terror under control. And she could hear from the sounds in the background that he was calling from somewhere with a lot of people. Her house was in a residential area.

'You were so beautiful in your nurse's uniform, Signe,' the voice said. 'So shining white and pure. White, exactly like Olaf Lindvig in his white leather tunic. Do you remember him? You were so pure that I thought you could never betray us, that you didn't have it in your heart. I thought you were like Olaf Lindvig. I saw you touch him, his hair, Signe. One moonlit night. You and he, you looked like angels, as if you were sent from heaven. But I was mistaken. There are, by the way, angels which are not heaven-sent, Signe. Did you know that?'

She didn't answer. Her thoughts churned around her head in a maelstrom. Something he said had set them in motion. The voice. She could hear it now. He was distorting his voice.

'No,' she forced herself to answer.

'No? You should do. I am such an angel.'

'Daniel's dead,' she said.

The other end went quiet. Only his breath wheezing against the membrane. Then the voice again.

'I have come to pass judgment. On the living and the dead.' Then he rang off.

Signe closed her eyes. She got up and went into the bedroom. She stood behind the drawn blinds and saw herself reflected in the window. She was shaking as if she had a high temperature.