The Quiet Girl by Peter Høeg Read Free Book Online

dialed the number on the card.
    "Yes?"
    It was a woman in her early forties.
    "I'm a very close friend of Aske," he said. "I had a dream I want to tell him about."
    She left the phone but did not hang up; she was away for fifteen seconds. He could have hung up--he had all the information he needed. A feeling of helplessness and an absurd hope of hearing KlaraMaria voice from somewhere in the background made him stay on the line.
    The woman came back.
    "He's away on a trip."
    "To the men's room at most," he said. "I think you should go and get him there. This is a profound dream. He would hate to miss it."
    He must have been standing beside her. Now he took the receiver.  "You got your money. How did you get this telephone number?"
    "The little girl. I want to talk to her."
    He heard his voice from outside himself. It belonged to a person who was about to lose his composure.
    "She's been hit," he added. "This is assault and battery. I've spoken with a lawyer."
    The man hung up.
    Drops of boiling-hot sugar hissed down into the slivovitz. Daffy slid a glass over to him.
    "A vagabond existence is fine until the age of forty," said the  watchman. "After that, one needs a permanent address to stop the decline. Especially if it's as rapid as yours."
    Kasper drank. Closed his eyes. It gave him a physical lift, similar to what large birds of prey must feel when they are flying. The concentrated fruit, the alcohol, the sugar, and the tropical heat rushed through his body out to the farthest capillaries. Chased away hunger, cold, and weariness. Bathed his suffering in a golden light.
    "And this profound philosophy," he said, "has led you to a meteoric career as a janitor in Glostrup."
    Daffy smiled. It was the first time Kasper had seen him smile in the six months he had known the man.
    "With help from the judge. I got four years' suspended sentence. Provided I changed my occupation."
    Kasper gathered together his things. Picked up the glass, which was still hot. Laid the check on the table.
    "An installment payment on what I owe," he said.
    Daffy came around the desk. Opened the door for him.
    "Why at sunset? Why do you express yourself best at sunset?"
    Kasper looked at the watchman's hands. Daffy could have been famous, as Bach was only after his death. Wealthy, as Richter never was. And now he stood holding the door.
    Pie pointed toward the sunset sky above the city.
    "Listen," he said.
    There was no loud or distinct sound. It was an intricate curtain of muffled ringing tones. The city's church bells chiming the sun to rest. "The key they are tuned to becomes the tonic in a major or minor triad. An overtone, which is an octave plus a minor or major third, varies along with the tonic. The city is a sound map. Grundtvig Church. Tuned in D. And above that, the F-sharp is heard just as strongly. The church has only the one huge bell. Its chimes could never be confused with those of the Church of Our Savior. Each is unique in its own way. So if you talk on the phone at sunset, and listen beyond the voice and compensate for the flat sound picture, you get an impression of where the person at the other end is located on the sound map."
 
 
    9
    He sat down on the bed. He drank slowly. The dark amber liquid had everything. It calmed you and filled you up, brought clarity and ecstasy. It anesthetized bad nerves and stimulated healthy ones. He raised the glass and let it refract the last light coming through the window. April light was unlike any other. It had a charming, optimistic unreliability, like an overbid hand in poker. It gave a promise of spring that it wasn't sure it could keep.
    He opened a large shallow rectangular drawer, the kind architects keep their elevations in; it was Stina's. He had asked Rud Rasmussen to make it for her.
    * * *
    Before the drawer she had never left anything at his place. In the morning she would methodically gather up everything, often while he was still asleep. When he woke up everything was gone, no