Fear Not by Anne Holt Page B

never had any more children?’
    ‘Not that I know of.’
    The acidic alertness was back.
    Adam smiled disarmingly and quickly asked: ‘When you say they loved each other more than anything in the world, what are you basing that on?’
    Lukas looked stunned.
    ‘What am I … ? What do you mean?’ Without waiting for an answer he went on. ‘They showed it a hundred times a day! The way they spoke to one another, the experiences they shared, everything … for God’s sake, what kind of a question is that?’
    His expression was almost frightening, with the blood-red eye wide open. Suddenly he stiffened, holding his breath.
    ‘Is something wrong?’ Adam asked after a few seconds. ‘Mr Lysgaard! What’s the matter?’
    Slowly the man expelled the air from his lungs.
    ‘Migraine,’ he said quietly. ‘I’ve just started to get visual disturbance.’ He spoke in a monotone, and was blinking rapidly. ‘One half is shimmering …’ He held up one hand, forming a barrier between his right and left eye.
    ‘It means that in exactly twenty-five minutes I will get a headache so severe that it’s indescribable. I have to get home.’
    He stood up so quickly that his chair fell over. For a moment he lost his balance and steadied himself against the wall. Adam looked at his watch. He had allocated the entire day to this interview, which had hardly begun. Although he had already learned enough to give him something to think about, it was difficult to hide his irritation at this interruption. But that was of no consequence. Lukas Lysgaard was already lost to this world.
    ‘I’ll drive you home,’ he said quietly. ‘Is there anything else I can do for you?’
    ‘No. Home. Now.’
    Adam fetched Lukas’s coat from a hook on the wall. The man showed no sign of wanting to put it on. He simply took it and dragged it along behind him as he headed for the door. Adam moved quickly and got there first.
    ‘I can see you’re not well,’ he said, his hand resting on the door handle. ‘We will, of course, postpone the rest of this interview until a more suitable time. Unfortunately, however, there is one question I do have to ask. You heard it yesterday, in fact.’
    Lukas Lysgaard’s expression remained unchanged. It almost seemed as if he was no longer aware that Adam was in the room.
    ‘What was your mother doing out walking on Christmas Eve?’
    Lukas raised his head. He looked Adam straight in the eye, licked his lips and swallowed audibly. It was clearly taking a huge amount of effort to steel himself against the pain he knew would come.
    ‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘I have no idea why my mother was out so late.’
    ‘Did she usually go out in the evening? Just before bedtime? I mean, was it normal for her to …’
    Lukas was still holding his gaze.
    ‘I have to get home,’ he said hoarsely. ‘No. I have no idea where my mother was going or what she was doing. Take me home. Please.’
    You’re lying, Adam thought as he opened the door. I can see that you’re lying.
    ‘I’m telling the truth,’ said Lukas Lysgaard, wobbling into the corridor.
    *
     
    ‘You couldn’t tell a lie if you were being paid for it,’ Lina Skytter said with a laugh as she tucked her legs up on the sofa.
    ‘Leave it out,’ said Johanne, surprised that she felt slightly insulted. ‘I’m actually a specialist in lies!’
    ‘Other people’s lies, yes. Not your own. If you’d bought spare ribs at Rimi and told your mother they were from Strøm-Larsen, your nose would have grown from here to Sognsvann. Just as well you went for cod instead.’
    ‘My mother didn’t think so,’ Johanne mumbled into her wine glass.
    ‘Give over,’ said Lina. ‘Your mum’s lovely. Good with the kids and really kind. She’s just a little … emotionally incontinent, that’s all. It’s as if whatever’s on her mind has to come out of her mouth right away, kind of. Forget it. Cheers!’
    Johanne raised her glass and tucked her feet underneath