You drive over to Saint-Batiste and follow Trant's directions through the endless streets of large, almost indistinguishable houses. They're like houses out a storybook, houses regular people only live in in their dreams. You turn onto a street where the houses on one side are set high on a bit of a hill, with large tiered gardens in front of them.
"It's this one, here," Trant says.
You pull up by the side of the road, then reverse a little so you're in front of the right house. "It's a fucking mansion," you say.
Trant laughs. "It's a nice house for Mikael to grow up in," he says, then he turns more serious. "Jean? I don't mean to sound impudent, but you will watch your language around him, won't you?"
"Of course," you say, a touch defensively.
"Not that I was trying to say I don't think you would. I don't believe in censorship, but children can be prone to fixating on certain words, especially when they hear them spoken by authority figures, and I don't want to risk stunting Mikael's vocabulary at such an impressionable age."
You cut the engine, then look at Trant, waiting for him to get out of the MC.
"Would you mind going to the door?" Trant asks. He winces and looks down. "I'm not sure I can make it up the steps."
"Does she know I'm coming? Your ex-wife?" you ask.
"Well," Trant says. "Not as such. But I'm sure she'll understand."
You get out of the motor carriage and walk up the steps, hoping you won't be called upon to explain the situation. By the time you reach the top of the steps, you're a little out of breath.
You knock, and after a few moments, a blonde woman answers the door. She's very pretty, very well-dressed. Her clothes accentuate her curves. She wears a little too much makeup. Completely out of your league, but a good match for Trant. Well, she was at one point. You don't know what happened there, he's never talked about it.
She blinks at you, and her body tenses up. "Can I help you, officer?"
"Elise... Heidelstam?" you say.
"Oh, I haven't used that name in many years," she says, and her brow furrows. "What is the meaning of this?"
"I'm just here for Mikael."
Her blue eyes widen and she looks aghast. "Why?" she demands, moving slightly to block the doorway.
"Ma'am, I'm not here in an official capacity. Trant is unwell," you say, stepping aside and gesturing to the motor carriage. Trant is stepping out of the vehicle. He gives a wave.
"He is? He didn't tell me."
You're not sure what you're supposed to say to that.
"Oh, are you from the precinct where he's doing consultancy work?" she asks.
"Yes, we are…" you hesitate, "...colleagues."
You hear footsteps behind you, and realise that Trant has decided to attempt the steps after all.
"Trant, what's going on?" Elise asks.
"Just feeling a little… under the weather," he says, struggling to catch his breath as he climbs to stand beside you on the top step.
"You should have said. We could have rearranged."
"No, no. I want to have Mikael. I'll be fine," Trant says. You feel him slip a hand around your arm to hold onto you for balance. "Besides, I have Jean's help if I need it."
"Jean? So that's your name," she says, her eyes moving to your face, then down to Trant's hand on your arm.
You nod. Trant squeezes your arm, almost imperceptibly.
"Come in for a moment, I'll go and see if Mikael's packed and ready," Elise says.
You step through the threshold onto the plush carpet, and glance at Trant. He looks flushed and sweaty from climbing the steps. As soon as you look down to his hand on your arm, he removes it, and gives you a nervous smile.
"Your father isn't feeling well, so please be on your very best behaviour," Elise says as she comes downstairs, Mikael following her.
"I will, I promise!" he says, jumping over the last stair and stopping dead as he sees you. His expression suddenly grows very serious.
"Uncle Jean has very kindly offered to drive for us today, aren't we lucky?" Trant says.
Uncle Jean?
Mikael looks at his dad, then looks at you, and nods solemnly. Trant holds his arms out to him, and Mikael drops his bags to run up to him and give him a hug.
"Don't forget to say goodbye to your mother," Trant says.
Mikael lets go of Trant to go and hug his mother. "Bye mum, love you! I'll miss you!" he says.
"I love you too, sweetie. And I'll miss you more," she says, bending to kiss him on the head.
"No, I'll miss you more."
"Let's just agree to miss each other the same amount, but not so much it spoils our time until we're together again," Elise says, smiling at her son.
Mikael looks up at her. "Okay!" he says.
Just like the house, this family seems like something out of a children's storybook. The ones that contain nothing relatable to poor Revacholian children. Except, none of those fantasy families ever have divorced parents. Also, a character like you belongs nowhere near such a story.
"Well then, Mikael, are you ready to go?" Trant says.
Mikael nods and grabs hold of his bags.
"Trant, call me if you need any help, okay?" Elise says.
"Thank you, but I'm sure everything with be fine," Trant says.
"Okay," she says, then turns to Mikael. "Bye sweetie."
"Bye mum!"
You open the door and Mikael rushes off in front, hopping down a few steps before turning and waving to his mum again.
You walk slowly, keeping in step with Trant. You know he's trying to put on a brave face in front of his ex-wife, so you don't want to undermine him, but you also want to be there in case he needs to lean on you again.
When he reaches the bottom of the steps, Mikael turns back towards the house. "Aww, she's closed the door," he says.
Trant taps him on the shoulder and points to a window, behind which Elise is waving. Mikael grins and waves back.
You open up the motor carriage and get inside. If you didn't know better, you'd think they were putting on some sort of act. But why would they? It's well known that the RCM has no capacity to deal with mistreated children. You already know that Trant is pretty over the top, a little too nice for his own good. Maybe they're all just like that? You're even more curious now about what the deal is with Trant and his ex-wife, but you can't ask in front of Mikael. Would it be weird to ask full stop? You turn the question over in your mind on the drive home.
When the three of you get back to Trant's apartment, Trant sends Mikael off to his room to unpack his bag. Trant sits down, and you join him. The bunch of flowers from the precinct are in a vase on a cabinet on the opposite wall.
"I do appreciate your help, Jean. I don't think I could have managed to drive."
"It's nothing," you say. Now isn't the time to ask either, although you're tempted.
"I just hope I'm feeling a little better tomorrow. I always drive Mikael to school, it's not far, but-"
You find yourself smiling about something he said to his ex-wife earlier, and cut him off mid-sentence. "You have my help if you need it."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to presume."
"You can. Presume, I mean. You need anything, I've got you."
Trant looks away, speechless for a moment. His cheeks turn slightly pink, and he smiles to himself. Your stomach feels weird in response. "If you're sure, that'd be a big help," he says.
You shrug. "Night shift again. I'm free during the day."
"Oh, wait, Mikael has his viola lesson after school. I take him over to his music teacher's house, it's on the other side of town, near his mother's house."
"I don't need to do anything, right? I never learned music."
"You didn't? Well, it's never too late to start. Perhaps I could teach you, or it could be a good for Mikael to teach what he's learned," Trant says. "But no, you don't need to do anything. I usually wait in the MC and read a book."
"I can do that. Write down the address for me. And the school. I don't know where school is."
Trant goes to get a piece of paper and a pen, and starts to write. "Here. I've included the times you need to be there, as well as the times I would normally set off."
You take the piece of paper. "Trant, you are nothing if not thorough," you say.
"Well, I do my best," he says, and smiles.
You look at your watch. "I have to go to work soon. Is there anything you need me to do first?"
Trant shakes his head. "I think we'll be fine. If I need to rest, Mikael is perfectly capable of occupying himself," he says.
You stand up.
"Jean?"
You look at him. He drops his gaze.
"I do wish I had more to offer you than my gratitude," he says. "Please remember that my knowledge, skills and connections are as ever at your disposal."
"I don't want any of those things." Before you can reconsider it, the words are out of your mouth. Unsurprisingly, Trant looks disappointed. You want to tell him that you don't need anything from him, that his company, his friendship is enough. Or something to that effect. You couldn't say something that sappy and not immediately want to die. "You've done enough for me already."
Trant shakes his head. "Nonsense," he says. "I've done nothing as significant as what you've done for me."
"I've been loads of trouble for you, and I'm sure I'll continue to be," you say.
"Oh, I hope so," Trant says, which strikes you as an odd thing to say.
You plan to think about this on what you expect will be another boring night shift, along with the look on Trant's face when you told him he could presume to have your help. The one that made your stomach feel weird for some reason. But unfortunately the people of Jamrock have other plans for you, and force you and Judit to respond to several calls back to back.
The sun rises, slowly shining its bright red rays in through the windows of the old silk mill. Officers start to arrive for the day shift, and you and Judit make a silent agreement to leave a little early today. After the night you've had, you've earned it.
You're tired. All you want to do is go home and lie down and shut your eyes, even if you can't sleep. But Trant needs you. Mikael needs you. You head over to Trant's apartment.
Trant greets you with a smile brighter than the rising sun. That's all you need, Trant's smile, Trant's approval. For that, you'll do anything. You wonder what you'd do for him, if Trant ever decided to abuse his power. You wish he would.
Mikael seems less pleased to see you, and hides behind his father's legs.
"Uncle Jean's going to take you to school today, is that okay?" Trant says.
Mikael looks up at his father, seemingly searching for some possibility of saying no to the suggestion. Eventually, he gives a little nod.
You're not confident of your ability to deal with kids, but at least you know Mikael. A little, at least. Trant has brought him to the precinct a few times, where miraculously he seemed to avoid hearing any inappropriate language, as well as bringing him along on some of the less dangerous investigations. The kids you usually come across in your line of work are like under-grown adults. You can't talk to Mikael like you talk to them. Maybe it's best if you play the silent chauffeur. That way you can know for sure you won't say anything to him that Trant won't like.
Trant says several goodbyes to his son, and watches and waves until the elevator doors close behind you and him. You scratch your beard as the elevator goes down, and Mikael bites the sleeve of his school jumper.
"Um, do you have music?" Mikael asks as you set off in the motor carriage.
"There's a radio. Do you know how to-"
You don't even need to finish your sentence, because Mikael is already pressing buttons. He fiddles with the dial, and strains of music and conversation fades in and out.
"S-s-s-s-speedfreaks FM!"
Mikael pauses on this one and listens. Of course he does. Heavy guitars layered with the sound of static fill the motor carriage. You reach out a hand to change the station, but then pause. This is an opportunity to win cool adult points with Mikael. He shoots glances at you as you continue to drive, as if waiting to be told he can't listen to this.
"What's this song about?" he asks. "I don't know all of the words."
You wonder if you were so innocent to drugs and sex at his age. Mikael has had a sheltered upbringing compared to you. "You don't get to ask that," you say without taking your eyes from the road.
"I wish I had my dictionary," he says, and you have to admire his rebelliousness.
The song continues and you wince at the lyrics, wondering if Mikael will remember any of these words later to look up in his dictionary and gleefully repeat to his father. But on second thought, maybe some of these words won't even be in the dictionary. You can only hope.
"Hmm this is boring," he decides, and changes the station.
You listen to less controversial radio stations on the rest of the journey. You stop outside the school. "Here you go, kid. This is your stop," you say.
Mikael climbs out of the motor carriage, then looks down at his shoes. "Thank you, Uncle Jean," he says, then gives you a tiny wave before rushing off. You return the wave, in case he looks back. He doesn't.
It's strange to be called uncle. You never imagined yourself as an uncle. Not that you are. It's just something Trant said to be nice. Or to make you seem like less of a terrifying strange man to Mikael. You drive home so you can pass out and get a few hours of broken sleep before doing this all over again.
Once again you sleep like shit. You have nightmares stitched together from the incident with your gun and the worst of the horrors you've seen over the years. Dragging yourself out of bed again, you feel more tired than when you climbed in.
While you're waiting for Mikael, you see someone with a familiar brown bob on the other side of the playground. Like Judit's. You're probably hallucinating from lack of sleep. And a patrol officer's uniform, like Ju- fuck, it's Judit isn't it? Wait, this isn't a problem. It's not like you're doing anything wrong. But you really would rather not have to explain yourself. You hunch your shoulders and try to disappear into the crowd of parents and guardians. Which is harder than it sounds, as you seem to be the only one there who isn't a woman or a short old man.
Children start to come out of the building. You spot a number of small, blond haired little boys, and you're suddenly worried you might go home with the wrong kid. You hope Mikael will recognise you, at least.
"Funny seeing you here, Jean," comes a voice to your right.
Judit looks tired. More tired than she looked just this morning.
"I'm picking up Mikael for Trant," you say. It's not like you can hide it. Or should hide it. Should you? God, you're tired too.
Judit widens her eyes and smiles. "That's nice of you."
What the hell does she mean by that? Is she… onto you? No, shut up. That's stupid. There's nothing for her to be on to. "Yeah, it is nice. I can be nice," you snap. "Don't tell anyone."
She shakes her head and lets of out a little giggle.
Fuck. Did you just make yourself sound even more suspicious? You feel your cheeks burning hot, and you hope you can pass it off as being from the wind. Because there's definitely nothing going on between you and Trant. No. You refuse to even consider naming the nature of your… interactions, because there's nothing to name. You're just picking up another man's son from school and there's nothing weird about that. You're friends. That's it. Friends do that sort of thing for each other, don't they? You think of the assortment of deadbeats and junkies you've called friends over the years, and you're not sure you'd trust most of them to hold your beer while you go piss.
You risk a glance at Judit. And you have to look down to find her because one of her children has arrived and she's crouching to talk to her. You're off the hook. For now.
Turning back to look to the procession of children coming out of the school, you immediately spot Mikael, and you wonder what you were worrying about. He's talking expressively with two girls and a boy. Even from this distance, you'd recognise the way he walks the same as his father.
"That's my Uncle Jean," Mikael says, with a touch of pride in his voice.
"Woah, he's so tall," says one of his friends.
You attempt a smile for the children. They immediately turn away and scatter, shouting their goodbyes to each other.
"How was school?" you ask as you both get into the motor carriage. You feel like you should attempt to make some conversation.
"It was great! I learned so much new stuff. And we played a really fun game. And I started reading a new book from the library, it's about some people who live on a farm and have lots of animals," he says. "No würms though," he adds with a note of disappointment.
"Good," you say, focusing on the steering levers.
"How was your day?" he asks.
You sigh. You never imagined you would ever have to make small talk about life as a detective with a kid. "Long. Tiring."
"Did you solve any crimes?"
You sincerely doubt any of the incidents you responded to last night will count towards your number of solved cases. "Well, maybe a couple," you say. What's a kid to know?
"Cool," Mikael says. "Can you tell me about them?"
You think back to the people you dealt with, and try to think of what would need to be omitted to make any of the tales child-friendly. Your mind fails you. "No."
"Oh, because of confidentiality?" He says the last word slowly, as if this is a new one for him.
"You've got it, kid," you say.
You drop Mikael off at his music teacher's house, and intend to read the newspaper you brought with you, but you only get as far as putting an unlit cigarette between your lips before you fall asleep. You awake only when Mikael taps on the window.
"Do you want to listen to the new song I learned when we get home?" Mikael says.
"You should play it for your dad," you say.
"Oh, I will!" he says. "Say, do you like radiocomputers?"
"Uh, sure," you say. You've barely touched the one at the precinct, if you're honest.
"Me and my dad have been playing a really fun game on the radiocomputer, I'll show you!"
You nod, and glance at your watch. "Maybe another time. I have to go to work again soon."
"Will you come and play with us tomorrow?"
"If it's all right with your dad, we'll see."
You see Mikael upstairs, but decline Trant's invitation to come inside. Trant thanks you effusively for playing taxi driver, and says that of course you're welcome to come and play tomorrow. You find yourself nodding, too tired to refuse.
You wonder if it's really okay, and you won't be intruding upon them. It's strange that they're both so eager for you to spend time with them. Has Trant coached Mikael to be extra nice to you, out of pity, or obligation? But you don't get the sense that they're lying. Part of you wants it to be real, for you to have something nice for once. Still, you can't imagine how you can fit into that scenario, into their goddamned happy family life. But that's a problem for tomorrow. For now, you just need to hope the traffic isn't heavy, so you can catch another nap before your shift.