The Secret Life of Mr Roos by Håkan Nesser

Author:Håkan Nesser
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pan Macmillan UK

26

‘Wrigman’s. Hold the line, please.’

It was Wednesday afternoon. Admittedly he had promised to ring Wrigman’s that morning, but events had intervened. Conversations with doctors. Advice and instructions for his coming convalescence. Testing out crutches and learning to negotiate visits to the toilet, the latter a lot more tricky than he had anticipated.

Marianne had been to see him twice, as well. She worked in maternity so it only took her three minutes to pop over to the orthopaedic ward.

They would keep him in until the next day, he had been told. They wanted to do an X-ray before sending him home. Or was it something else? He had a tendency to switch off when faced with medical science. For some reason.

‘Can you really manage without me for another night?’ he had asked Marianne.

‘I’ll just have to grin and bear it,’ she had replied.

He’d been having some pain, too, on and off. The leg inside the lump of plaster felt like something that belonged to him and yet did not. Sometimes it itched, and the itchiness definitely belonged to him.

So it was half past two by the time he decided to make his enquiry about the missing bastard.

‘Yes, Wrigman’s Electrical. I’m sorry for the wait.’

‘I’d like to speak to Valdemar Roos.’

‘Valdemar?’

‘Yes please, Valdemar Roos.’

The woman at the other end gave a laugh. A slightly throaty, vaguely waspish laugh.

‘But he’s not with us any more.’

‘Not with you any more?’ said Gunnar Barbarotti.

‘That’s right.’

‘I don’t quite understand,’ said Barbarotti. ‘You’re saying Valdemar Roos doesn’t work there any longer?’

‘That’s what I’m saying,’ said the woman. ‘Who am I speaking to?’

‘My name’s Barbarotti,’ explained Gunnar Barbarotti. ‘But in fact I’m ringing on behalf of a good friend of mine. Tell, me, when did Valdemar Roos leave the firm?’

The woman coughed and considered the matter.

‘Well it must have been about a month ago,’ she said. ‘He handed in his notice, just like that. No warning at all. And Wrigman let him go.’

‘I see,’ said Barbarotti, feeling at the same time that he didn’t see at all. ‘Do you know if he got a job somewhere else?’ he asked.

‘Haven’t a clue,’ said the woman. ‘He worked here for twenty years, then he left. That’s all.’

Gunnar Barbarotti thought quickly.

‘Do you know where I can get hold of him?’

‘No.’

‘You don’t happen to have his mobile number?’

‘Er, yes, I think it’s here somewhere. Hang on.’

He waited, listening to the click of her fingers on a computer keyboard. Then she gave him Valdemar Roos’s mobile number and they ended the call. It was evident to him that Wrigman’s Electrical wasn’t the sort of company that sends its employees to charm school.

He adjusted the pillows behind his back and stared at his leg for a while.

He’d given up work?

A month ago?

His wife hadn’t said a word about it. Why not?

On impulse he rang the number he’d been given by the woman at Wrigman’s. After all, it might only be his wife the man was refusing to talk to.

No answer.

Gunnar Barbarotti shook his head and brought Alice Ekman-Roos’s number up on his screen instead.

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