Lethal Investments Read Free Page A

said with a strained smile. ‘As you know, she was a very attractive woman.’
    The words were spoken with a face that said she was the kind to keep an eye on her husband.
    ‘So he did talk to her once in a while?’
    Gunnarstranda detected some irritation at his question.
    ‘We were neighbours in a way, weren’t we, and yes . . . no!’
    She threw out her arms.
    ‘You didn’t have much to do with her then, you didn’t have mutual friends?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Do you know if she hung around with a particular group? Was there anyone who visited her a lot?’
    ‘I’m afraid I can’t help you there,’ she said firmly. But continued when the inspector said nothing.
    ‘Yes, she lived below us, and the times I met her she was on her own by and large. I suppose I must have seen her with other people, men and women, as you would expect. She was just a normal girl living alone and we, well, we’ve hardly been here six months, not even that.’
    ‘Are you at home all day?’
    ‘Half of it, yes.’
    The boy grew restless hanging from his mother’s arm, and she was being distracted.
    ‘Would you recognize any of these people, from a photograph?’
    ‘Which people? Stop it now, Joachim!’
    She grabbed the wriggling boy’s hand to restrain him.
    Gunnarstranda stared at her patiently. ‘The ones you’ve seen her with.’
    ‘Excuse me,’ she said, and got up. Bent down to the boy and talked softly to him while looking him in the eye.
    ‘Mummy has to talk to the man. Now you go and find something to do. Play with your bricks.’
    ‘No!’
    The child was not in a co-operative mood. In a huff, he eyed the policeman, who took out his tobacco pouch and started to roll a cigarette. The lad was intrigued by the roller and turned to watch Gunnarstranda making a stockpile of filter roll-ups on the glass table.
    Mummy had time to think. ‘To be honest, I don’t believe I noticed any of them she was with, don’t think so anyway.’
    The inspector didn’t glance up. ‘But you’ve been living here six months! And there hasn’t exactly been a stampede on the staircase, has there.’
    She didn’t answer.
    ‘And she was quite a good-looking woman,’ he continued. ‘The sort your husband would have cast an appreciative eye over!’
    He met her eyes and noted the confusion there. But he didn’t give more than a glimmer of a smile. He could see she was of a mind to interpret the question in the best spirit. ‘To be honest, I don’t think I would recognize anyone in a photo after a brief encounter on the stairs. No, I don’t think I would.’
    Gunnarstranda gathered all the roll-ups together. Got to his feet. At that moment they heard someone come through the front door. The boy ran towards it with his mother behind him. He lit a cigarette. Went over to the window and opened it a crack while she welcomed her husband. He could hear the father indulging in horseplay with his child and the couple whispering.
    So as not to offend anyone, he tried to blow as much of the smoke as he could through the window.
    Soon they were in the living room. ‘Feel free to smoke,’ she assured him, flustered. ‘I’ll find you an ashtray. This is the gentleman from the police.’
    The latter was said to her husband, who trooped in behind her.
    They greeted each other.
    The man was getting on for forty, but had stopped somewhere along the way. Clammy hands, maybe as a result of wearing gloves. His hair was thick and bristly and fell in front of his eyes as he made a very formal bow. At the back of his head his hair had been cut in a straight line around his neck. His frenetic eyes emphasized a repellent energy in his nature.
    ‘We’re investigating the murder of a young woman on the lower floor,’ Gunnarstranda said gently.
    ‘Yes, well, it’s about time!’
    Gunnarstranda looked the man in the eye as he flicked the ash from his cigarette into the ashtray the child’s mother had provided.
    Sensitive mouth. Suggestion of a grimace