was no problem getting past it’.
Seppo Penttinen nonetheless has his doubts and he asks if there is really such a place as the one Quick has described down this road.
TQ: It should be a sort of levelled area, of that characteristic, and then there should be . . . as if at some point it has been a kind of, of . . . I’ve had trouble describing it during questioning as well . . . like a gravel pit or soil pit or . . .
penttinen: You mean like someone’s been removing some kind of gravel?
TQ: Yes.
The convoy heads down the forest track, which proves very long. They shake and rattle, kilometre after kilometre. It already seems quite inconceivable that this track made for forestry vehicles should lead to a gravel pit.
Quick had said earlier that the church could be used as a marker to gauge how far down the road they should drive, but the steeple has long since disappeared from view.
TQ: Mm. I’m feeling that we have gone very far in relation to my memory of the distance I went.
PENTTINEN: Yes. Have we gone too far?
TQ: I don’t know.
Quick says that he’s had certain ‘points of recognition’ along the road, so they continue. I note that Quick is now noticeably slurring his words. He says that it is difficult for him to go down this road. After a while he starts flapping his arms.
PENTTINEN: You’re waving your hand. What are you trying to say?
TQ: I don’t know.
PENTTINEN: Should we carry on?
TQ: Yes, let’s carry on. The fox must be red.
PENTTINEN: I can’t hear what you’re saying.
TQ: The fox must be dead.
PENTTINEN: The fox?
TQ: The Jewish boy.
PENTTINEN: The Jewish boy must be dead?
Thomas Quick seems to be lost in the mists, and Penttinen is concerned.
PENTTINEN: Are you with us, Thomas?
TQ: Mm.
But Thomas is not with them. Mentally he is in an entirely different place.
PENTTINEN: (repeats) Are you with us, Thomas?
Quick again hums an answer.
PENTTINEN: We’re coming up to a crossing here. Now you have to decide the way, Thomas. Should we go to the right? You’re nodding to the right.
The car turns right.
PENTTINEN: Here there’s a turn to the left.
TQ: Keep going straight.
PENTTINEN: Shall we carry on?
TQ: Mm.
PENTTINEN: Straight on.
TQ: We can go where you find . . . so we can . . .
PENTTINEN: Turn round?
TQ: Mm.
Thomas Quick’s droning voice now only hums his answers and soon he closes his eyes.
PENTTINEN: Now you’re closing your eyes. How are you?
TQ: Stop a while. Over there.
The convoy stops. Quick sits in silence with his eyes closed. The terrain where the car has stopped does not correspond in any way to the description given earlier by Quick. There is no levelled piece of land here and certainly no gravel pit. The van has stopped on a long slope in a rolling Norwegian forest.
Quick sees a hill. He decides to walk to the top and is accompanied by Seppo Penttinen, Birgitta Ståhle, Claes Borgström and Detective Inspector Anna Wikström.
PENTTINEN: Are we within walking distance now of the place where Therese is?
TQ: Yes.
Quick is so unsteady on his legs now that Ståhle and Penttinen have to keep him on his feet by taking an arm each. You can see that they’ve done this before. They make their way up to the top of the hill, where the whole group stands in silence. Finally Penttinen speaks up.
PENTTINEN: You’re looking down at the road, by that curve down there. And now you nod. Is there something special about that place? Try to describe it.
TQ: (in a monotone, almost whispering) The curve leads . . . up steps.
PENTTINEN: What did you say? The curve what?
TQ: Leads steps up.
It is difficult to make much sense of Quick, who seems completely drugged.
PENTTINEN: Can you see the place from here?
Quick is immobile. He closes his eyes.
PENTTINEN: You’re nodding and closing your eyes at the same time.
Quick has opened his eyes and sees something at the bottom of the slope. They agree it’s a shoulder of rock.
‘Shall we try to get down to that spruce tree?’ Quick suggests at long last.
They walk towards a little spruce tree and, when they get there, stand in silence once again. Quick whispers something inaudible. He’s helped to light a cigarette.
‘Is the curve in that direction?’ he wonders, pointing with his arm.
‘It is,’ Birgitta Ståhle confirms.
‘I want to have a look at it,’ says Quick, and starts moving in the direction he has just been indicating.
The ground is covered in old branches and it is difficult to make much progress. Quick starts stamping on the branches. Penttinen grabs him.
Quick has a total freak-out and starts shouting, ‘You bastard! Bloody bastard swine! You bloody bastard swine! Bloody bastard swine!’
Quick stamps and thrashes with his arms but is quickly overpowered. He ends up at the bottom of a heap of police and care assistants. Seppo Penttinen turns to the camera, as if to make sure that this is being properly documented. There is something triumphant about Penttinen’s expression when he looks into the camera, filming this dramatic moment.
Someone has indicated to Christer van der Kwast that dramatic things are unfolding in the Norwegian undergrowth. He comes running into shot, wearing a shiny black suit. Quick is lying down, growling intently, a low, rhythmical sound.
Everyone in the company knows that Quick has undergone a transformation; he has assumed one of the multiple personalities he harbours within. This is a figure referred to by him and his therapist as Ellington – the evil figure of the father, the murderer
