"No, it's the wrong word.It's not a memory.He touches something, and he sees everyone who's touched it before him.It's not a memory.He doesn't see them touch it; he only sees their faces.At least I think it's how it works.He told me once they come in order and push the one before them out of the way.He touches something, then he sees everyone who's handled the evidence, then the last person who touched the item before the forensic team arrived, then the next, and the next, and so on.He can't stop it, it rolls over him, but he remembers them all.No one ever fades.And when it's too many, he passes out.There is no stopping the avalanche once he's touched something.Which is why he doesn't touch things that have been in a public place."
Nikolai nodded and turned the key in the ignition.
"If he could've stopped the flow, it would've been different."
"How do you mean?"
"Then he could've touched door handles.It's at the top of his list of things he doesn't touch.Imagine how many times a door handle is touched.How many people do you think pass through the door at the precinct every day?Then you add up all the days of the year, and then all the years the door's been there.It would most likely end with a trip to the hospital if he touched it.But had he been able to break the flow, he could've touched the door to the victims' homes, and we could've seen if the same man entered all four of them.Given this last one is one of ours."
Nikolai was almost sure it was one of theirs.
* * * *
Frode was in Yeager's office with a cup of tea in his hand, watching him work.He was always amazed by his skill, not only his talent with a pen but how he knew what questions to ask to get Frode to describe the face right.
"How sure are you this is the guy?"Yeager didn't look up from the drawing.
"It's most likely him.He showed up on two different occasions.If I'm to guess, he bought the rug off a man I think we should draw as well, then sold it to the victim, and then he somehow got to her again.He showed up between the victim and the forensic team, and between the black man and the victim."
"The black man being the one you believe sold the rug to the suspect?"
"Yeah, sorry."Sometimes he spoke as if people had seen what he'd seen.
"Nothing to be sorry about."Yeager moved his pencil over the paper.Frode wanted to look, but he knew when to wait and when to interact.
Several minutes went by without a word, then Yeager motioned him over.He placed the cup on the desk and stepped closer so he could see.It was the man, but the face lacked shadows, wrinkles, and other marks.They'd get there.They'd done these sketches enough times that Frode knew how it worked.
"Looks good.The ears are a little wrong."
"Bigger?Smaller?Pointy?Protruding?"
"I want to say they were placed high, but..."He closed his eyes and conjured up the image."No, a little pointy and not much of an earlobe."He opened his eyes and found Yeager watching him.Then he nodded and went to work on the ears.A short while later, Frode hummed to let him know he had it right.
"Okay."Yeager met his gaze again."Scars?Wrinkles?Beauty marks?"
Frode closed his eyes again."I want to say he's in his mid-forties, so some wrinkles.Crow's feet, though not deep ones.Boyish.He has a small scar right above his left eyebrow."
"Freckles?You said he was a redhead?"
"No freckles.And he's not a ginger.My guess is if the sun hits his hair, it'll have red highlights, but...auburn is the best I can give you.He's clean-shaven, but I bet his beard would be red."
Yeager grunted and got to work.He asked about the scar, about the wrinkles, and so on.
Frode went back to his chair and waited.The next time Yeager showed him the drawing, he nodded."Yup.That's him."
Yeager stretched and winced.He was tall but thin, and when he moved it was as if the bones weren't attached properly.Liquid.
"You want to do the black man today too?"
Frode nodded."Yeah.Best to give Nesterova what he wants.I don't think he's the killer, but maybe he's sold more than one rug to the man.Or maybe it was a one-time thing, but if the police can find him, they can ask him some questions."
Yeager nodded in agreement."Let me grab a cup of coffee and move around for a few minutes."
All Frode did was nod.He was exhausted today, his head was still a little fuzzy, and his limbs were heavy, but if Yeager needed to expel some energy, he wouldn't stop him.He closed his eyes and focused on the man he suspected had handed the rug over to the murderer.
If he were the murderer.
What if the murderer knew about Frode's talent and made sure not to touch the rug?Nah, he didn't think anyone outside the police paid him any attention.
