Free The Fourth Man by K.O. Dahl Page A

Kripos.’
    The man’s face was dominated by a crooked mouth which lent it a twisted appearance. The slanting smile divided his face into two in a peculiar, but engaging, way. Lystad’s face was one you remembered. Frølich ransacked his memory. Lystad … the name was familiar, but not the face.
    ‘It’s about Jonny Faremo.’
    Frank Frølich nodded. ‘Tragic.’
    ‘So you know about it already?’
    Another nod.
    ‘Who told you?’
    ‘As I’m sure you know, I work for the police. We’re colleagues.’
    ‘But who told you?’
    ‘Gunnarstranda.’
    Lystad smiled coyly.
    Frank Frølich thought: He doesn’t like this turn of events. The conversation hasn’t taken the direction he anticipated.
    The ensuing silence was a clear sign that Lystad wanted to be invited in. But Frank Frølich didn’t want anyone in and so observed Lystad in silence.
    ‘Have you been to Faremo’s house recently?’
    On the positive side: no beating about the bush. Negative: his method is to keep a distance, be cool.
    ‘You mean Jonny Faremo?’
    ‘Yes, I mean Jonny Faremo.’
    ‘I’ve been there, that is to say, outside. I rang the doorbell, a couple of days ago, the same day he was released from custody. I was supposed to meet his sister, Elisabeth. I don’t know if you know the background here?’
    ‘I’d prefer to know as little as possible, apart from what happened between you and Jonny Faremo when you saw him last.’
    ‘OK,’ Frank Frølich said, thinking: high arsehole factor .
    ‘Was his sister at home when you rang?’
    ‘Elisabeth? Does the question mean that your interest goes beyond my dealings with her brother after all?’
    A shadow crossed Lystad’s face.
    He doesn’t like the direction the conversation is taking – positive.
    ‘Frølich, listen.’
    ‘No, you listen. I’ve been a policeman for many years. I can see you’re aware you’re making a mess of this. I’m also the first person to understand that you don’t like the job, but you don’t need to kick people in the balls even if they’re standing conveniently close by. You say the background doesn’t concern you. Well, it concerns me to a very considerable extent. I’ve taken a load of time off because of the background. That’s what has led to this conversation between you and me. Well, if the background doesn’t concern you, don’t ask about it. Either you don’t care or you do.’
    Lystad didn’t say anything and Frølich continued.
    ‘My version is that I started a relationship with a lady who has the wrong connections. The same lady’s brother is dead now. But be absolutely clear about one thing: I’ve never ever been interested in Jonny Faremo, neither when I met him two days ago, nor at any other time. When I showed up at his place – after Faremo was released from custody – that was the first time I’d ever met the guy. I’d never seen him before. But I went there to meet her, to talk to her, and I did that because a situation had arisen in our relationship: she had used my name in her testimony to give her brother an alibi at the hearing.’
    Lystad nodded gravely. ‘Go on,’ he said.
    ‘When I got there, I parked in the visitors’ car park. There are stairs leading from there to the flats. I went down and rang the doorbell. I assume your witness is an elderly man – the neighbour with whom I spoke when no one answered the door. I exchanged a few words with the man. Then I went back to the car and was about to drive off when Jonny Faremo appeared. He was driving a silver Saab. I’d never seen the man before, but I realized who he was and I approached him to ask where his sister was. He didn’t know. At least he claimed he didn’t know. Then I got back into my car and left.’
    ‘Where did you go?’
    ‘Two hundred metres further down Ekebergveien.’
    ‘Why did you stop there?’
    ‘To think.’
    ‘What happened then?’
    ‘Jonny Faremo came down the hill in his car.’
    Lystad stared at him with