The Water's Edge - By Karin Fossum Page 0,53

Reinhardt said.

Kristine gave him a dubious look. 'Surely we don't need to follow him,' she said, 'we've got his registration number. All we have to do is call the police.'

But Reinhardt was unstoppable. 'I want to know where he lives,' he said. 'I have to know. Look, he's turning right, I bet he's from Huseby. He's speeding. And he's not indicating either. What a crap driver.'

Kristine groaned in despair.

'If he turns off, we have to let him go,' she said. 'It's not our business to follow complete strangers to find out where they live.'

'I don't have a problem with following him,' Reinhardt said. 'Later we'll call the police and give them his registration number, his address and everything. Jesus Christ,' he exclaimed, punching the steering wheel. He was so excited his cheeks had gone bright red.

'You could be wrong,' Kristine said.

'Not this time. Admit it, he looks like him, he's the spitting image.'

'He does look like him,' she conceded. 'But people resemble each other.'

'He's limping,' Reinhardt continued.

'So does my uncle,' Kristine said, 'because he's got a tumour in his knee.'

'Now stop being so stupid,' he raged. 'You agreed with me, don't you dare back down now!'

They followed him for eleven kilometres. He took the exit for Huseby precisely as Reinhardt had predicted. The car went through the town and turned left at the top of a steep hill.

'Gran氓sveien,' Reinhardt said. 'I bet he lives at Gran氓s Farm. Perhaps he rents a cottage there.'

'We can't follow him all the way to his house,' Kristine protested. 'It might ruin everything if he sees us in his mirror. I don't think the police would be best pleased to know that we're playing detectives.'

'I'm bloody well not going to turn around now,' snarled Reinhardt. 'I want to know where he lives.'

The car stopped by a row of letter boxes and the man got out.

'He's opening the middle box,' Reinhardt said.

The man got back in his car and drove down to the right, where he stopped outside an old cottage.

Reinhardt drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.

'He's noticed us,' Kristine said. 'He's realised that we've been following him.'

'He's gone inside now,' Reinhardt said. 'Now get out and find out what the name on the letter box is.'

She got out of the car and ran over to the letter boxes. She stood there for a few seconds before running back and getting into the car.

'His name's Brein,' she said. 'Wilfred A. Brein. Can we go now, please?'

CHAPTER 33

The following morning Reinhardt leapt out of bed to listen to the morning news. There was no mention of the case. He ran to the letter box to get the newspaper, leafing through it feverishly, but there was nothing about the man from Linde Forest, no announcement that the police had finally received the vital tip-off and made an arrest. That meant one of two things. The man had been interviewed and eliminated, or they had botched it. Had they not taken his call seriously? The very thought outraged him, and, having paced up and down the room a few times, he called the police station.

A female officer answered.

'All tip-offs are followed up,' she said, 'but it takes time. We're still getting a large number of calls.'

'But this is not just any old tip-off,' Reinhardt said, his frustration turning his voice shrill. 'It's about the man from Linde Forest whom you've been wanting to speak to since the fourth of September. My wife and I found the body of Jonas August, and we were the ones who saw a man in a blue anorak by the barrier. Wilfred Brein from Huseby. Have you interviewed him? Does he have an alibi?'

'I can't give you that sort of information,' she said curtly, 'but I have made a note of your call and it will be followed up.'

'Listen,' Reinhardt said. 'Please would you find out if anyone's been to see him? The police have been known to make mistakes. A killer will walk free if this information is lost in the system. Please don't make that mistake, it would be awful for you.'

He heard a sigh at the other end.

'All right. I'll find out. You'll have to wait a moment.'

He waited. Kristine was standing next to him now. She, too, was waiting.

'It's unbelievable,' he said, 'that they can faff around like this.'

'They've got to follow procedure,' Kristine said. 'They can't bring people in just like that.'

'Here I am trying to be a good citizen,' Reinhardt fumed, 'but if they can't be bothered