Witness Interview (Continued)

ESTELLE: I’d like to make it clear that I’m sure Stockholm is perfectly pleasant. If you like Stockholmers. And I can tell you right now that I don’t think Knut has any prejudices, either, because once when we were younger I was tidying his office and I found an entire magazine all about Stockholm.

JIM: Great.

ESTELLE: I didn’t think so at the time. We actually had quite a row about it, Knut and I.

JIM: I see. So, you were talking to Ro and Julia when the bank robber came in?

ESTELLE: They keep birds. And they argued all the time. But in a cute way. Of course, the other couple were arguing, too, Roger and Anna-Lena, but that was nowhere near as cute.

JIM: What were Roger and Anna-Lena arguing about?

ESTELLE: The rabbit.

JIM: What rabbit?

ESTELLE: Oh, it’s quite a long story, if I’m honest. They were arguing about the cost of the apartment, per square foot, you see. Roger was worried that everyone was pushing the price up. He said the housing market was being manipulated by bastard real estate agents and bastard bankers and Stockholmers.

JIM: Hold on, was he saying that homosexuals were manipulating the housing market?

ESTELLE: Homosexuals? Why would they be doing that? That’s a terrible thing to say! Who’d say a thing like that?

JIM: You said Stockholmers were doing it.

ESTELLE: Yes, but I meant Stockholmers. Not “Stockholmers.”

JIM: Is there a difference?

ESTELLE: Yes. One’s Stockholmers, and the other’s “Stockholmers.”

JIM: Sorry, but I’m confused now. Let me try to write this down in chronological order.

ESTELLE: Take your time, as much time as you need. I’m not in a hurry.

JIM: I’m sorry, but I think perhaps it would be best if we went back to the first question?

ESTELLE: Which one was that?

JIM: Did you notice anything particular about the other prospective buyers?

ESTELLE: Zara looked sad. And Anna-Lena didn’t like the green curtains. And Ro was worried the closet wouldn’t be big enough. But it’s one of those walk-in closets, as they’re called these days. I didn’t know that until I heard Jules call it that.

JIM: No, hold on, that can’t be right. There’s no walk-in closet on the plans.

ESTELLE: Maybe it looks smaller on there?

JIM: The plan must be to scale, though, surely?

ESTELLE: Oh, must it?

JIM: On the plans, the closet isn’t even two square feet in size. Can I ask how big this walk-in closet is?

ESTELLE: I’m not very good at measurements. But Ro said she wanted to use it as a hobby room. She makes her own cheese, you know. And grows flowers. Well, some sort of plants, anyway. Jules isn’t very happy about that. Once Ro tried to make her own champagne and made a mess of Jules’s underwear drawer. Ro said that caused “a hell of a fight.”

JIM: Sorry, but can we try to focus on the size of the closet?

ESTELLE: Jules was insistent that it was a walk-in closet.

JIM: Is it big enough to hide in?

ESTELLE: Who?

JIM: Anyone.

ESTELLE: I suppose so. Is it important?

JIM: No. No, probably not. But my colleague was keen that I should ask all the witnesses about possible hiding places. Would you like some coffee?

ESTELLE: A cup of coffee would certainly be very nice, I wouldn’t say no to that at all.

34

The bank robber stared at the bathroom door. Then at all the hostages. Then asked: “Do you think there’s someone in there?”

Zara countered in a way that could have been taken as sarcastic: “What do you think?”

The bank robber blinked so many times that it looked like Morse code.

“So you do think there’s someone in there, then?”

“Did your parents by any chance have the same surname before they met?” Zara asked.

Ro took offense on behalf of the bank robber, and snapped: “Why do you have to be such a cow?”

Julia kicked Ro’s shin and hissed: “Don’t get involved, Ro!”

“You’re the one who’s always saying we’re going to teach our child to stand up to bullies! I’m not going to stand here and let her talk to—” Ro protested.

“Talk to who? A bank robber? Is that bullying? Heaven forbid that someone who’s threatening us with a gun should feel offended!” Julia said with a groan.

“I’m not—” the bank robber began, but Julia raised a warning finger.

“You know what? You’re the one who’s caused all this, so you can just shut up.”

Zara, who was looking at the dust on her clothes and couldn’t have appeared more disgusted if she’d just climbed out of a pile of manure, noted: “Good that your kid’s got at least one mother who isn’t a communist.”

Julia spun around toward her: “And you can shut up as well.”

Zara did actually shut up. No one was more surprised by that than Zara herself.

* * *

In the meantime Roger cautiously rose to his feet. He helped Anna-Lena up, she looked him in the eye and he didn’t really know where to look, they weren’t used to touching each other without turning the lights out first. Anna-Lena blushed, and Roger turned around and started knocking absentmindedly on the walls in an attempt to look busy. He always knocked on the walls at apartment viewings, Anna-Lena wasn’t entirely sure why, but he said it was because he needed to know “if you could drill into them.” That was important to Roger, this business of drilling, and it was just as important to know if the wall was load-bearing. If you remove a load-bearing wall, the ceiling collapses. And apparently you could hear that if you knocked on the wall, at least you could if you were Roger, so he did it everywhere at every single viewing, knocking and knocking and knocking. Anna-Lena sometimes used to think that everyone gets a few moments that show who they really are, tiny instances that reveal their entire soul, and Roger’s were this knocking. Because sometimes, so fleetingly that no one but Anna-Lena would even notice it, he would stand motionless immediately after a knock, looking at the wall in anticipation. The way a child might. As if he were hoping that one day someone would knock back. Those were Anna-Lena’s favorite Roger moments.

Knock knock knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.

He suddenly stopped right in the middle of a knock. Because he was listening to the conversation between Ro and Julia and Zara about the locked bathroom door. A shiver ran down Roger’s spine when he realized that the most terrible thing of all might be hiding in there: another prospective buyer. He therefore decided to take charge of the situation at once. He marched straight over to the locked bathroom and had just raised his hand to knock when Anna-Lena cried out: “No!”

Roger turned around in surprise and looked at his wife. She was shaking all over, and was blushing right down to her fingertips.

“Please… don’t open the door,” she whispered, and Roger had never seen her so frightened, and had absolutely no idea what might be the cause. Zara was standing alongside them, looking from one to the other. Then, predictably, she walked to the bathroom door and knocked on it. After a short pause someone knocked back.

By then tears were running down Anna-Lena’s cheeks.