Death In The Family

Chapter 13

The sound of the spider crawling along the wrought iron of the barred windowsill produced very little noise, but its many shuffling legs still made a slight sound in the echoing silence. Its choppy, stop-motion movement was interrupted by frequent pauses to examine its surroundings, its two largest forward-facing eyes on its square head like a pair of circular sunglasses. The small appendages at its front stroked over its fangs like an old man would stroke his mustache in nervous thought, but in comically increased frequency and speed. It made its jagged, meandering way around to the web tucked into the corner of the windowsill and, curiously, plucked on the strands. The occupant, a common house spider, eventually crawled over in eager anticipation of a meal caught in its web. The visitor leapt onto it with a powerful speed and precision, its fangs penetrating the thick carapace of the larger house spider and injecting its venom to kill it quickly. The jumping spider had lured its prey to it by making the house spider believe it to be prey. Fascinating.

"Your daughter has arrived in Norway," a woman's voice spoke in a deep, palatalized French through the iron lattice in the window on the heavy wooden door. Her words echoed off the stone masonry that made up the cavernous room.

"Thank you, Mrs. Marceau," Leif responded.

The little visitor sat in the web, taking its time to suck the host dry.

Pretending to be calm was not doing much to alleviate that savage wrath within Anders, aggression billowing like smoke from the roaring flame of rage within him as he maintained a more-or-less friendly tone with Fredrik as he answered the teenager's awkward but polite questions.

"How long do you have to use the cane?" Fredrik asked.

"Until my leg stops hurting," Anders replied, trying and failing not to sound so stiff. He cleared his throat to cover for it and attempted to participate more actively in the conversation his young neighbor seemed so eager to engage him in. "Did the gang give you any trouble?"

"No, not really. They're all good dogs. Bolle keeps trying to eat the corner of your sofa, though."

"Ahh, Bolle..." Anders sighed in mock aggravation. The white spitz mix perked up at hearing her name, her tongue lolling out and eyes brightening up at him innocently. The dogs still crowded around him, watching dotingly as though he was the resurrection of Christ, but to a dog, he supposed he might as well have been the dead come back to life after having gone missing for over a week. There was no resurrection after the death that had almost caught him, though. Not everyone was as lucky as Leif or Jesus.

"Um... Did you hurt it fighting that guy?" the boy asked.

Anders's mouth twisted in a grimace of a frown, pushing down the reflexive defensiveness with some effort before forcing himself to say, "I'd rather not talk about it."

"Sorry," Fredrik responded, quiet now in awkward embarrassment.

"Here, let me pay you so you can go enjoy your evening," Anders said, moving towards the study for his checkbook.

The boy was as on his heels as his dogs, his shyness vanished in an instant as he began speaking with renewed excitement, "You don't have to pay me, Mr. Valstad, it was fun! What was it like in that house? That girl's his daughter, right? She's shorter than I expected. Like, tiny. Does that mean it's true that she's going to live here, with you? So, you really saved her from that guy? You're all bruised up. Did he do that? Oh, damn! Did you get into a fistfight with the killer!? That's so cool!"