The Land of Dreams

23

224 23 the phone was ringing on the table next to him. Groggy and only half-awake, he finally managed to pick it up. Peering at the display, he recognized the home phone number of Sheriff Eggum. He cleared his throat. “Hello?” he said. “Lance?” said Eggum on the other end of the line. “Hi, Bill. Um, what time is it?” “Ten to seven. In the evening. Did I wake you up? Your voice sounds a little . . .” “Yeah, I must have dozed off.” The sheriff laughed. “Soon I’ll be able to do the same thing. After I retire. Then I can sleep as much as I want. But you’re just a youngster.” Lance was still so tired he was having trouble thinking of a response. “You know what?” the sheriff went on. “I’m calling to tell you that the FBI has issued an arrest warrant in the murder case.” Suddenly Lance was sitting bolt upright on the sofa. “Arrest warrant?” he said. “Who did they arrest?” “A man from Grand Portage. An Ojibwe. It turned out that an Ojibwe did it.” “When did this happen?” “Today. This morning.” “Why did they arrest him?” “Because they think he’s the killer, of course.” THE LAND OF DREAMS 225 “But as far as I know, there was no concrete evidence.” Lance noticed that his voice was shaking. “Oh, but there was. At the crime scene. Biological traces.” “Fingerprints?” “DNA.” “Are you saying that they found this man’s DNA at the crime scene?” “Yes . . . or no, not exactly. It turned out to be impossible to get a complete DNA profile from the material they had. It was just a matter of a few microscopic drops of blood. But what they did find out was that the blood had to come from an Indian. Or rather, a man with a certain amount of Indian genes. Not necessarily a full-blood, in other words. Apparently it’s a question of a mutation in a gene, or something like that. Something that only Indians have. So that led them straight to Grand Portage.” “But good Lord, there are Indians living everywhere in Minnesota ,” exclaimed Lance. “All over the country, for that matter. Why exactly Grand Portage?” “Because early in the investigation they got a tip about a man who lives in Grand Portage. An anonymous tip. They even interviewed this individual, but decided that he didn’t have anything to do with the murder.” “But now they’ve arrested this same man?” “Yes. They managed to tear apart his alibi.” “But what’s the motive?” “Well, that’s not clear yet, but apparently he’s a drug addict, so I’m guessing that he must have snapped while he was on some sort of drug. But isn’t it great that they’ve finally caught him?” “Sure. Of course.” Lance still couldn’t figure out how this had come about, but if the biological evidence proved that an Indian had killed Georg Lofthus, he didn’t need to worry anymore about what Andy was doing that night. He could forget about the whole thing. Andy wasn’t a murderer after all. Lance almost felt like crying. “Are you still there?” asked Eggum. “Yeah, I’m here.” “Are you okay?” “I’m just incredibly relieved.” “So this has really been hard on you, huh?” said the sheriff. Vidar Sundstøl 226 “Much harder than I thought.” Lance could hear that he didn’t have full control over his voice. “I can understand that. It was . . . what should I say? It was very unfortunate that you should have to stumble over . . . well, you know what I mean. Regardless, now we can all breathe easy and tell the women and children that the killer is under lock and key,” said Eggum. “Do you know what his name is?” “Hmm . . . what did they tell me it was? I wrote it down, didn’t I? But where? Oh . . . wait a minute . . .” Lance heard Eggum put down the phone and walk around the room, muttering to himself. A moment later he was back on the line. “Now let’s see . . . ,” said Eggum. “His name is Lenny Diver. Does that ring a bell?” Lance paused to think for a few seconds. “No,” he said. “I’ve never heard that name before. But tell me one thing. Has he confessed?” “Not yet, but they found a possible...