But now, nearly six months later, he felt he had been little more than a runner.
And he had been sitting in a stuffy room with no windows, sweating and stinking, for twenty-three hours, staring at codes that flickered on the screen. He had been asked to create some kind of order in the chaos. It was important that he kept focused.
He pressed his fingers against his eyes.
He was so exhausted that he was no longer sleepy. It was as if his brain had just stopped. It didn’t want to do any more. He felt like his own hard disk had logged out and left the rest of his body to fend for itself. His hands felt numb and a stabbing pain in his lower back had been bothering him for hours.
He breathed out slowly, and opened his eyes as wide as he could to try to get some moisture. He should really get something more to drink, but it was another quarter of an hour before he could take a break. He must try to have a shower.
There. There was something there.
Something.
He blinked and his fingers moved like lightning across the keyboard. The screen froze. He lifted a reluctant hand and ran his index finger along a row from left to right, before he started to hammer on the keyboard again.
Another screen came up.
It couldn’t be true.
It was true, and he was the one who had seen it. He had discovered before anyone else, and suddenly he didn’t regret switching jobs any more. Once again his fingers moved busily over the keyboard. Then he pressed Print, grabbed the phone and waited in suspense for the next screen.
‘She’s alive,’ he whispered, forgetting to breathe. ‘She’s fucking alive!’
XII
‘This is the most beautiful place in the whole of Oslo,’ Adam Stubo said, and pointed to a simple bench by the water. ‘I think we could both do with a bit of air.’Summer had ambushed the city. The temperature had risen by nearly ten degrees in the course of twenty-four hours. The sun blasted the sky in an explosion of white light. The leaves on the trees along the banks of the Aker River seemed to have turned a darker shade of green in that time alone, and there was so much pollen in the air that Adam’s eyes started to run as soon as they got out of the car.
‘Is this a park?’ Warren Scifford asked without any real interest. ‘A big park?’
‘No. This is the edge of the city. Or the start of the forest, whichever way you want to look at it. This is where the two meet, trees and houses. Lovely, isn’t it? Sit yourself down.’
Warren looked at the dirty bench with suspicion. Adam produced a hanky and wiped away the remains of the national-day celebrations. A patch of hardened chocolate ice cream, a stripe of ketchup and something he’d rather not guess at.
‘There. Sit down.’
He took two enormous rolls and two cans of Diet Coke out of a plastic bag.
‘Have to think about my weight,’ he said, putting it all down on the bench between them. ‘I actually prefer regular Coke. The real thing. But you know…’
He patted his stomach. Warren said nothing. He didn’t touch the food. Instead he sat watching three Canada geese. A small dog, which was half the size of the largest bird, was being chased around on the grassy bank down by the water. It seemed to be enjoying itself. Every time the biggest goose chased it away with a snapping beak, the swift little beast spun round and zigzagged its way back.
‘Don’t you want any?’ Adam asked with his mouth full.
Warren still didn’t say anything.
‘Listen,’ Adam said and swallowed. ‘I’ve been given the job of following you around. It’s becoming more and more obvious that you’re not particularly keen on telling me anything at all. Or perhaps I should say us. Keeping us informed. So can’t we just…’ he took another big bite of his roll, ‘enjoy ourselves instead?’
The words disappeared in the food.
The dog had got bored, and no longer cared about the hissing geese. Instead it was scurrying around on the bank with its nose on the ground, heading towards Maridalsvannet.
Adam continued eating in silence. Warren turned his face to the sun, rested his left foot on his right knee and closed his eyes against the bright light.
‘What’s up?’ Adam asked when he’d finished his roll and eaten half of Warren’s.
He crumpled up the plastic wrappers and put them in the bag, then opened one of the cans and took a drink. ‘What’s up with you?’ he repeated and tried to swallow a burp.
Warren still didn’t move.
‘As you like,’ Adam said, taking out a pair of sunglasses from his breast pocket.
‘There’s a monster out there,’ Warren said, without changing position.
‘There are lots of them.’ Adam nodded. ‘Far too many, if you ask me.’
‘There’s one that wants to break us.’
‘Uhum…’
‘He’s already started. The problem is that I don’t know how he intends to continue. And there’s no one who’ll listen to me.’
Adam tried to find a more comfortable position on the wooden bench. For a moment he put his foot on his knee, like Warren. But his stomach protested against being squashed, and he put his foot down again.
‘I’m sitting here,’ he said. ‘My ears are open.’
Finally, Warren smiled. He shaded his eyes with his hand and looked around.
‘It really is beautiful here,’ he said quietly. ‘How’s Johanne?’
‘Well… she’s very well.’
Adam rummaged around in the plastic bag and produced a bar of chocolate. He opened it and offered it to Warren.
‘No thanks. With my hand on my heart, I can say that she was the best, brightest student I ever had.’
Adam looked at the chocolate. Then he wrapped the paper around it again and put it back in the bag.
‘Johanne’s very well,’ he repeated. ‘We had a daughter last winter. A healthy, lovely little girl. And other than that, I think we should change the subject, Warren.’
‘Is it that bad? Is she still…?’
Adam took off his sunglasses.
‘Yes, it’s that bad. I don’t want to talk to you about Johanne. It would be fundamentally disloyal. And in any case, I just don’t want to. OK?’
‘Of course.’
The American bowed slightly and opened his hands.
‘My greatest weakness,’ he said with a tight-lipped smile. ‘Women.’
Adam didn’t know what to say to that. He started to wonder whether the outing had been a good idea. An hour earlier, when Warren had appeared at Peter Salhus’ office without warning and without really having anything to tell, Adam had thought that a break in their usual routine might help them to get talking again.
But he certainly did not want to talk about Johanne.
‘You know,’ Warren continued. ‘Sometimes when I lie awake at night and sweat, thinking about the mistakes I’ve made in my life, it strikes me that they are all related to women. And now I find myself in a situation where, if President Bentley is not found alive, my career is over. A woman holds my destiny in her hands.’
He gave a demonstrative sigh.
‘Women. I don’t understand them. They are irresistible and incomprehensible.’
Adam realised he was grinding his teeth. He concentrated on not doing it. It was almost impossible, and he stroked his cheek with his hand to try to relax it.
‘You don’t agree,’ Warren laughed.
‘No.’ Adam sat up abruptly. ‘No,’ he repeated. ‘I find very, very few of them irresistible. Most of them are very easy to understand. Not always, not all the time, but generally. But…’ he threw open his arms and looked completely the other way, ‘that also means that you have to see them as equals.’
‘Touché,’ Warren said and gave the sun a broad smile. ‘Very politically correct. Very… Scandinavian.’