The research he is doing now gives him no obvious clues for how to spend the rest of the day. He hasn’t come up with a plan when Heidi Kjus and Iver Gundersen enter together. Henning can’t hear what they are talking about, but his ears prick up. Gundersen smiles and looks suitably pleased — with himself, Henning reckons — but Heidi is serious as always. She reeks of ‘let’s get this show on the road’ attitude.
Heidi rarely allows herself to smile: she regards it as a sign of weakness. When she started working at Nettavisen, she would often join them for a beer on Fridays. She would be chatty and sociable, but never visibly drunk. Today, he can’t imagine Heidi in the pub. Now she is the Boss. And bosses are always in charge. If she is tired, she never lets on. She suppresses her laughter if someone cracks a joke. It is inappropriate to allow oneself to be seduced by humour during business hours: it dulls her focus.
Heidi looks at Henning while she talks to Gundersen. She is excited about something and gesticulates enthusiastically. Gundersen nods. Henning notices that Gundersen’s facial expression changes when he sees Henning is already at his desk. It is as if the self-assured, arrogant and smug cosmopolitan develops teenage acne and regresses fifteen years.
‘You’re in early?’ Gundersen remarks and looks at Henning. Henning nods, but doesn’t reply and glances at Heidi who sits down without saying anything.
‘How did it go yesterday?’ Gundersen asks. Henning glares at him. Tosser, he thinks. Haven’t you read my story?
‘All right.’
‘People keen to talk?’
Gundersen sits down and switches on his PC.
‘Enough.’
Gundersen smiles a crooked smile and looks at Heidi. Henning knows she is listening, though she pretends she isn’t. He turns his attention back to the screen.
Salty waves, Henning.
Oh, what fun this is going to be.
A little later Heidi says, in her Boss voice, that it is time to have a meeting. Neither Gundersen nor Henning says anything, but they get up and trundle after her. Gundersen slips to the front of the queue and waits for twenty-nine seconds so he can take a fresh cup of coffee with him. This creates a moment alone for Henning and his Boss. He steels himself for another bollocking, but Heidi says:
‘That was a good story, Henning.’
He already knew that. But he didn’t know that Heidi was big enough to admit it. He feels like saying that he will be quicker next time, but he doesn’t. She might be like one of those Death Eaters in Harry Potter. Perhaps she will be different tomorrow or change when it is a full moon? For Christ’s sake — the last time he had a meeting with Heidi, he was evaluating her stories. Not the other way around. Imagine Cristiano Ronaldo teaching an eight-year-old kid to play football and then getting a pat on the back from the same boy a few years later for a good insider pass.
Okay, wrong metaphor, but really. He is sure that Heidi can read his mind, but Gundersen comes to his rescue by entering the meeting room.
‘Just the three of us?’ he asks.
‘Yes.’
‘What about Jorgen and Rita?’
‘Jorgen is manning the desk today, and Rita is on duty tonight.’
Gundersen nods. Heidi sits down at the end of the table and takes out a sheet of paper. She reviews today’s stories. And she does it quickly. Henning knows that is because the news desk or the team who monitor the news and publish stories on an ongoing basis can handle most things. Heidi has an ulterior motive: she wants to show them that she is the Boss, that she is in charge.
Then they get to the real reason:
‘Where are we with the stoning? Any good follow-ups today?’
Henning looks at Gundersen. Gundersen looks at Henning. He is back in his role as the rookie, so he awaits Gundersen’s star turn. Gundersen takes a sip of his coffee and leans forward.
‘The police seem fairly certain that Marhoni did it. I’ve a reliable source at the station who might give me some info from their interviews with him.’
Heidi nods and makes a quick note on her sheet.
‘Anything else?’
‘Not at the moment. I’ll check my sources and see if anything else comes up.’
Heidi nods again. Then she looks at Henning.
‘Henning, what have you got today?’
Heidi has her pen ready. He isn’t used to reporting to a superior, so he hesitates for a second before clearing his throat.
‘Not sure yet.’
Heidi is about to write something, but stops.
‘You’re not sure yet?’
‘No. I’ve got some ideas, but I don’t know if they’ll lead to anything.’
The truth is he doesn’t know if he can get hold of the people he wants to talk to or if they will tell him anything useful, and he doesn’t want to promise something at the meeting he later finds he can’t deliver. Best not to say anything.
‘What kind of ideas, Henning?’ she probes. He can hear the doubt in her voice. And he sees her sneaking in a quick sideways peek at Gundersen.
‘I want to talk to a few more people at Hagerup’s college — if they’re there today.’
‘We’ve done human interest.’
‘This isn’t human interest. This is different.’
‘What is it?’
He hesitates again, he wants to tell her about Anette’s eyes, about how the hudud punishments don’t make sense, but he doesn’t trust Heidi or Gundersen. Not yet. He knows they are his colleagues and that he needs to work with them, but they have to earn his trust first. It has nothing to do with professional rivalry or ego.
‘I think there’s more to Hagerup’s background and life, something which matters to this story,’ he says. ‘I’m hoping people at her college can shed some light on who she was and why someone chose to knock her out with a stun gun and throw rocks at her head until she died.’
He is pleased with his own reply until he realises what he has just said.
‘A stun gun?’
Gundersen looks at him. Henning curses himself. He says.
‘Eh?’
A pathetic attempt to buy time.
‘I don’t recall reading anything about a stun gun?’
Henning says nothing; he feels two pairs of eyes sticking into him like pins. His cheeks redden.
‘Who told you that, Henning?’ Heidi asks.
‘I thought I had heard somewhere that a stun gun was used,’ he says, instantly hearing how feeble his explanation sounds. He can tell from their faces that they don’t believe him. But they say nothing. They just stare at him.
Crested, salty waves won’t help you now, Henning. He can hear his own laboured breathing. Then he says.
‘Are we done?’
He doesn’t look at them, but he gets up and avoids meeting their eyes as he goes to the door, half expecting to hear Heidi’s sharp voice order him back, Henning the Labrador, sit, but he grabs the handle without anything happening, he pushes it down, pulls the door open and leaves.
The silence he leaves behind is like a plane crash in his head. He can only imagine what Gundersen and Heidi say about him in his absence. Not that it matters.
He is just grateful to be out of there.
Chapter 23
Henning hits the streets of Gronland before Heidi and Gundersen finish their meeting. The temperature has risen by several degrees since he got to work and the air is humid. He looks up. Clouds, white and grey, rush across the sky. It is almost nine o’clock. Tariq Marhoni probably isn’t up yet.
Henning found little of interest about him on the Internet: Tariq came to Norway from Islamabad in the mid 1990s, his brother had arrived a few years earlier, and they have shared three different addresses. While Mahmoud couldn’t be found in any newspaper articles, chat rooms, web pages or tax registers, Tariq featured in a VG survey a couple of years ago where he was
asked if he was for or against the EU.
Tariq placed himself in the ‘don’t know’ category. And that was all Henning had learned. In other words, the Marhoni brothers have kept a low profile, but Henning has been around long enough to know that means nothing. Tariq is still best placed to tell him about Mahmoud, the police’s only suspect, and he has been branded guilty already. That’s why Henning needs to find out as much about him as he can.