Safe as Houses by Simone van der Vlugt Page A

especially when there’s an Indian summer. But now she wonders whether this autumn might be both her loveliest and her last.
    She doesn’t dare count on Kreuger’s promise that nothing will happen to them if they play along. How much can you trust a criminal sentenced to psychiatric incarceration? He is calm now and doesn’t look that dangerous; she has to keep it that way. It’s still possible that the police might come, but deep inside doubt nags away at her. They should have been here ages ago. How much time does it take to write up a report and investigate the given address? Even if the police didn’t take the woman seriously and weren’t in any hurry, at least one policeman should have knocked on her door by now.
    She cannot imagine that the police would be so lax as to do nothing. The only possible conclusion she can reach is that the woman didn’t report it. Maybe she didn’t even see Kreuger standing there; and, if that’s the case, she would have misread the situation.
    Kreuger serves up seconds. At least he’s enjoyingdinner. Her dinner – her plate, her fork and spoon, her food. Sitting in Mark’s place. As if he’s planning on staying for good.
    Lisa sips from her glass of water, but she has difficulty in swallowing. The despair flooding through her is suddenly so immense she has to do her best not to burst into tears.
    Why has she been fooling herself? The woman hasn’t gone to the police, and no one is coming. She’s completely on her own.

12
    Of course she has thought about the coming night. Several times the question of who is going to sleep where, and how, has shot through her mind. Lisa doesn’t think there’s much chance of Kreuger letting them sleep in their own beds, but she has managed to repress the thought for the entire afternoon.
    But now that dusk is creeping around the house, nestling into the far corners of the garden, and the sky has taken on a dark blue tint, Lisa knows it is time for the second act.
    They have eaten; she has tidied everything away and put the plates in the dishwasher. Anouk is playing a game on the computer at the workstation. Kreuger is sitting on the edge of the sofa, watching TV, tensely leaning forward. He zaps until he gets to the seven-thirty news on RTL4.
    The news starts with Kreuger himself. Lisa catches fragments of the coverage from the kitchen and stands as close as she dares to the open door.
    â€˜There is still no sign of the escaped psychiatric criminal Mick Kreuger . . .’
    â€˜If he doesn’t take his medicine, he may become dangerous . . .’
    â€˜It is believed a man was killed by Kreuger in the course of his escape . . .’
    â€˜Kreuger was sent to a psychiatric prison two years ago for the murder of . . .’
    Lisa rushes back to the worktop and tries to marshal her thoughts. What will happen if Kreuger has to go without his medication for any length of time? All his murderous instincts, usually repressed by the drugs, will surface.
    Her hand rubs her painfully throbbing temples, and she takes a sip of water to wet her dry throat.
    When she turns around, Kreuger is suddenly in front of her. Lisa catches her breath sharply.
    â€˜I fancy some coffee,’ is all Kreuger says.
    â€˜I’ll put some on.’ She turns to the espresso machine and switches it on. The machine comes to life with a splutter.
    â€˜Did you hear that?’ Kreuger asks, nodding towards the TV.
    â€˜I was busy. The television is just too far away. Why? Were you on the news?’ She manages tokeep her voice light, as though it’s totally normal for Kreuger to be on TV. It’s quiet behind her for so long that she regrets asking the question. Kreuger comes and stands next to her, leans on the worktop and gives her a searching look.
    â€˜What did you hear?’
    Lisa mechanically puts two cups under the espresso machine’s spouts.