The Snowman ( PDFDrive )

stopped snowing and he thought it wouldn’t be wise to leave telltale tyre prints on the drive. The
snow emitted soft, drawn-out screeches under his boots and the sharp daylight flashed against the
sunglass-black windows as he approached.
He went up the steps by the front door, opened the hatch of the bird box, put Rakel’s watch inside
and closed it again. He had turned round to leave as the door behind him was wrenched open.
‘Harry!’
Harry spun round, swallowed and essayed a smile. Before him stood a man naked but for a towel
around his waist.
‘Mathias,’ he said bewildered, staring at the other man’s chest. ‘You gave me a shock. Thought
you’d be working at this time of day.’
‘Sorry,’ Mathias laughed, quickly crossing his arms. ‘I was working late last night. Day off today. I
was on my way to the shower when I heard some noise at the door. I assumed it would be Oleg; his
key sticks a bit, you see.’
Sticks, Harry mused. That must mean Oleg has the key he used to have. And that Mathias has
Oleg’s. A woman’s mind.
‘Can I help you, Harry?’ Harry noticed that his crossed arms were unnaturally high up his chest, as
though he were trying to hide something.
‘Nope,’ Harry said casually. ‘I was just driving by and had something for Oleg.’
‘Why didn’t you knock?’
Harry swallowed. ‘I suddenly realised he wasn’t back from school yet.’
‘Oh? How did you know that?’
Harry nodded to Mathias, as though bestowing approval for an apposite question. There wasn’t a
shred of suspicion in Mathias’s friendly, open face, only a genuine desire to have something
clarified that he couldn’t grasp.
‘The snow,’ Harry said.
‘The snow?’
‘Yes. It stopped snowing two hours ago, and there are no prints on the steps.’
‘Well, I’ll be damned, Harry,’ Mathias burst out enthusiastically. ‘Now that’s what I call applying
deductive reasoning to your everyday life. You’re a detective all right, no question about that.’
Harry’s laughter was strained. Mathias’s crossed arms had sunk a little, and now Harry could see
what Rakel must have meant by Mathias’s physical quirk. Where you expected to see two nipples
the skin just continued, white and unbroken.
‘It’s hereditary,’ said Mathias, who had clearly been following Harry’s eyes. ‘My father didn’t have
any, either. It’s rare but quite harmless. And what are we men supposed to do with them anyway?’