Free The Last Fix by K. O. Dahl Page A

cigarette.
        'Go
on,' Frølich said in a friendly voice.
        'Where
was I?' she asked, disorientated.
        'You
were talking about drug addicts who lose their childhood.'
        'Ah,
yes. And what do you do when you haven't had a childhood? You catch up of
course. That was what was so bad about Katrine. Good-looking girl, attractive
figure, intelligent, quick. But just a child, just a child… what was your name
again?'
        'Frølich.'
        'A
child, Frølich. This child in a woman's body could sit down and stuff
herself with sweets - watch cartoons, read rubbishy romantic magazines like a
twelve-year-old girl - with stories about princes who ride away with Cinderella
into the sunset - blow out candles on her birthday, wear a crown on her head -
she always wore a crown on her birthday. She loved it. Writing her boyfriend's
name on her hand. Spur of the moment wheezes like having a bread-eating
competition or making paper boats. She revelled in these things.
        'It's
often like that. Young girls in women's bodies, experienced in life and so
driven that they can wriggle their way like eels around men and authorities.
This dual nature is perhaps the biggest problem of all. Women like this can
seem like wounded animals grabbing whatever they need at any particular moment,
without any scruples, while still being children with dreams of the bold brave
prince who will ride away with them, take them on trips around the world.
Katrine was no exception. Imagine, with all the talent she had, she preferred
to sit at a computer in a travel agency! What about that? A travel agency!'
        Frølich
nodded his head gravely and watched Gunnarstranda flick a strand of tobacco off
his lower lip while staring into space. A magpie stalked across the grass
behind him with purposeful intent. The bird was like a priest, thought Frølich,
a stooped priest, dressed in black with a white collar, his hands behind his
back. In fact, the two of them, the magpie and the vain policeman, were very
similar.
        'You
said she wrote her boyfriend's name on her hand. Did she have a boyfriend
before she died?' Frølich asked.
        'Yes,
she did. A bit of a strange choice. I'm sure you know the type. Looks like a
car salesman or a football player. Goes to a tanning salon and watches karate
films.'
        'What's
his name?'
        'Ole.
His surname's Eidesen.'
        'What
sort of person is he?'
        'Run
of the mill… a young… man.' She shrugged.
        'But
what's the link between them? Why did they become a couple?'
        'I
think he must have been a tennis coach or something like that,' she said with a
resigned grin. 'No, I was joking. He was a driving instructor or a language
teacher. I haven't a clue really, but it was something as banal.'
        'What
impression did you have of Ole?'
        'He
was an ordinary sort of chap, superficial… in my opinion, and hence boring… and
very jealous.'
        The
two detectives looked at her.
        'Although
he wasn't brutal. Just jealous. I don't think he ever did anything…'
        'Just
a boring, jealous man?'
        'Yes.'
        'How
did the jealousy manifest itself?'
        'Dear
me, this is just what I've heard. I don't actually have any impression of him.'
        'What
do you think Katrine saw in a man like Ole?'
        'Status.'
'What do you mean by that?'
        'I
mean what I say. This chap looks like one of those models in a deodorant
commercial - you know, shaved head and trendy clothes. For Katrine he was a
status symbol she could show off to other women. Meat.'
        'Meat?'
        'Yes,
that's what our young people are good at, pairing up, and I assume this chap
was well-suited for that.'
        'She
had a large tattoo around her navel. Anything symbolic in that?' Frølich
asked.
        'No
idea,' Annabeth answered, adding, 'I would guess not. It's part of the tawdry
art that characterizes our patients.