The next night I couldn’t sleep, and Andy hadn’t turned up. Somewhere in the middle of the morning I went up, sitting, wrapped up in my old blanket. Well, I told you it was cold didn't I? Rereading my old newspapers, the books I used to love to read was still back in Bergen, and the only thing I had left to entertain myself with were those old rags. As I turned to the glamour section in my yesterdays paper, you know, the one where they write about all those film stars and stuff, I suddenly found myself looking at Andy. Not standing in the forefront though, but still there in the background, mingling.

The notice informed that it was taken at a gathering for the new motion picture ‘Love is forever’ staring Elma Mitchner and some other strange name I never had heard of. What interested me more was the location, a very posh part of town. How I knew it, easy, the picture had a window in the background and the church outside that window was easily recognized.

So there I sat in that early cold morning light, wondering what it all meant. Was she just another actor, someone used to seduce me and make me do some others bidding’s, or was there more to it. At first I had thought it to do with IB but now I was getting confused. What did a Swedish movie company have to do with it? I started to look through the other papers too to see what more I could find. In the end I even tore lose the papers I had used as insulation to see if I could find something more about her.

I tried to rationalize my sudden interest for Andy in my mind, telling myself that it had to do with me being forced, but in the end I had to admit that she somehow had gotten herself a place amongst those few I cared about. But I also felt cheapened by finding her to be just another actor, brought in to fool me. I didn’t really like this situation, I had found myself a place of uncaring from where I just could look out, hidden inside myself not to be touched by life. But this sudden interest in her, as well as my decision to help Ann, had robbed me of my pedestal, forcing me once more to deal with people.

She didn’t show up this day either, I sat waiting for her until noon before giving in to my restlessness. As I tried to walk it of I found myself outside the church I had seen in the papers, in the old posh quarters of Vasastan. I recalled the picture, and looking at the house I tried to define which window it could have been. Yeah, you’re right, it probably had less than nothing to do with was happening to me, but as my curiosity won over caution once again I found myself steering towards the port of number sixty six as if I was some helpless iron grinding sucked in by a magnet.

As I walked up the marble stairs I felt badly out of place in my cheap suit and long hair. I knew I desperately needed a haircut and a shave but somehow I lost interest in my outer appearance with Agnes death. And as a dishwasher you didn’t need to fulfill any special dress code, well as long as you were, dressed I mean. But here I didn’t fit in, reading the names I decided it to be either on the third or the fourth floor, Andersson-Borg or De Witter?

Struck by a sudden inspiration I left to run over to the florist where I bought two bouquets. I was pretty sure that if I only got a chance to look inside the right apartment I would recognize it from the picture. And by now I have to admit that my curiosity had grown to an unquenchable thirst. I know, it was a cheap trick, but at least it was mine.

So, carrying my bouquets I went back and rung on that first doorbell, Anderssson-Borg. As the door was opened by a sweet looking maid in her twenties I smiled and bowed.

“A flower gram miss.”

The maid stared at it for a moment, then she took it from me, and as she looked for the card I got a glimpse of the apartment. No, it wasn’t the right one, the furniture was all wrong and the church on the other side was to low. It had to be further up.

“Andrea? I’m sorry, we don’t have anyone by that name?”

“Well, that’s a surprise.” I took it back. “Miss ?”

“Lena.”

“Please, wait a moment.”

I took the card and scratched out Andrea to change it to Lena.

“So, now it’s correct.” As I gave her the bouquet back.

I left her blushing and smiling, looking after me as I walked back down. As I came down I opened and closed the port, quite loudly and after a time I could hear the door close above me too. Waiting some more just to be sure I finally decided that it was time for me to try the next apartment. As I called on the doorbell I wondered if that had been so smart, giving away that other bouquet, what if they took this one too, and it was the floor above that was the right one?

“Yes.”

This time it was a man, around my age, quite trim, staring at me as if surprised.

“A flower gram Sir.”

He took it from me and while he looked at the card I realized that I had hit pay dirt. It had to be this apartment, I could see the church behind him, and some of the furniture too, and it all fitted into the picture I had in my mind. I studied him closer having an uncanny feeling that I had seen him before.

“Strange.” He muttered. “It doesn’t say from whom.”

He looked at me. “Do you know?”

So, there was someone named Andrea here.

“Well Sir, he grabbed me on the street, asking if I wanted to earn a krona. He was in a terrible hurry he said. Why? Do you want me to describe him?”

“Yes, I think I do. Come in.” He opened the door fully to let me in.

As I walked in he silently closed the door behind me, and as he came up to me again he held a Luger pointed at my stomach.

“Walk before me, and no hasty moves.” He warned as he took me to the kitchen.

“Sit down. Over there.” Ordering me to sit at the kitchen table.

“Let’s start from the beginning. You’re a Norwegian right?”

“Yes sir, Olle Adolfsen Sir. I haven’t done anything Sir. This bloke just..”

“Please, just answer my questions will you, Olle.”

He smiled a little as he heard my worried tone of voice, and no, it wasn’t faked.

“If what you say is true nothing bad will happen. You might even earn yourself a krona more.”

He sounded as if he tried to reassure me but I wondered what the Swedish police would have to say about it. They had strict weapon laws and people weaving guns in the face of citizens were quickly and most efficiently taken care of, if they got to know about it of course. But perhaps he thought that I didn’t know that? Any way, if I was an innocent he damned well knew that he just couldn’t let me go, so yes, I was worried.

“Sir I don’t know, all I know is that he was a Norwegian just like me.”

“A Norwegian you say?”

“Yes Sir, a little taller than me and dressed in nice new clothes.”

As I talked I looked at him. This strange feeling I had, of having seen him before? Could it be the newspaper, was it from there? He studied me back, his eyes cool but somehow amused as his hand rested on the table, the semiautomatic unerringly pointed at my sternum. And once more it struck me how locked in we all were. Here this guy stood, threatening me as if he was the sole judge of what would come to be with me, assuming that it was his right just because he held that piece of cheap metal in his hands. Well ‘fuck it’ I thought, he was wrong, sorely wrong.

“I wish I could believe you my friend. But I can’t. You shouldn’t be here.”

“Don’t I know it.” I muttered as I once more judged the distance, wondering if he would shoot.

He seemed to feel my intentions as he backed away slightly, suddenly looking wary.

“Take it easy Olle. Would you recognize him again?”

“Think so.”

Suddenly I realized what it was confusing me, he looked just like me, with the same built, eyes and general physique. In fact he could have been my long lost twin brother, if I now had had one?
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