Chapter 69
Even though the working day is far from over, Henning tells the cab driver to take him home to Grunerlokka. Perhaps he should have checked with Heidi Kjus first, but even she knows that he works just as effectively from home as at the office.
As the cab bumbles over the potholes at Schous Plass junction, Henning thinks about Jocke Brolenius. What if his murder is related to Tore Pulli’s death? Does anyone in Pulli’s circle have the means to hire a guy like Furio?
How about Veronica Nansen? Now that Pulli is dead she inherits a huge pile of money. But is she really that cold and calculating? She didn’t strike Henning as a psychopathic gold-digger. Nor can he see that she had any motive for killing Brolenius and framing her own husband unless there is more to her than meets the eye. So who else could it be?
None of the people he has met so far appears to have had the means or the motive. This leads him to believe they might be dealing with two unrelated cases. The murder of Jocke and the murder of Tore.
The cab turns into Seilduksgaten.
‘Just drop me off at the lights over there,’ Henning says, pointing across the passenger seat. The driver switches off the meter at the junction with Markveien. A receipt is printed out on which Henning scribbles his signature in handwriting even he can’t decipher.
Outside the tarmac is hot. Glumly, Henning kicks a pebble along the dusty pavement and hobbles to the door. What kind of story can he write about the things he has discovered today? Has he discovered anything at all?
He is about to unlock the door when his attention is drawn to a picture of a cat that has been stuck to the wall above the doorbells. ‘Have you seen Mans?’
No, I haven’t, Henning says to himself as he goes inside. But Mans has given him an idea.
*
Thorleif had forgotten how quiet the mountains can be. After they moved to Oslo, the ever-present traffic foisted itself on them like an invisible family member even though the street they chose — Nobelsgate — is relatively quiet. But the number 13 tram is always rumbling and squealing past, and then there are the sirens from emergency vehicles that frequently hare up and down Bygdoy Alle.
In the mountains, the silence is interrupted only by the wind and sporadic signs of people nearby. Under different circumstances Thorleif would have embraced the change, relished the opportunity to step away from the pressures of everyday life and simply immerse himself in the magnificent landscape that surrounds him. And even though it is difficult to think of anything other than the mess he has ended up in, he can feel with his whole body the value of having a place to go to, just the four of them, to fish, to ski, to feel their cheeks glow in front of an open fire after a long day outdoors.
Thorleif has tried to read The Mourning Cloak by Unni Lindell, but every time he reaches the bottom of the page, he can’t remember the words he has read or what happened. His thoughts keep straying, and he has considered every imaginable way he might contact Elisabeth without finding one that would be safe.
Thorleif closes his eyes and begins to relive the long car journey from Julie’s nursery to Larvik that day. Did the man with the ponytail give anything away? Thorleif shakes his head. Every time he asked him a question he would receive no reply or the man would simply change the subject. Nor can Thorleif remember if the man spoke on his mobile or if he Thorleif opens his eyes.
The mobile.
At one point the man received a text and had to remove his glove in order to press the keys. And Thorleif remembers that he didn’t put his glove back on straight away but texted a reply on his mobile and then put his arm on the armrest. He rested his hand in the same place, not for long, but possibly long enough for him to leave a fingerprint.
Agitated, Thorleif sits up. It’s not much, but it could be enough. It might be just what he needs to extricate himself from this nightmare.
Chapter 70
Iver Gundersen feels pressure at the back of his eyes as they leave the Colosseum Cinema. He should have checked with Nora in advance how long the film lasted. Over two and a half hours where he couldn’t move, and added to that wearing 3D glasses which involve a completely different strain than the muscles of his eyes are used to. They are worn out now. As is Iver. Nora, however, looks anything but.
‘What did you think?’ she says, beaming.
Iver hesitates. ‘It wasn’t bad.’
‘Not bad? It was absolutely-’
Nora lifts her head towards the dull evening sky while she searches for the right word.
‘Magical,’ she exclaims, enthralled, and looks expectantly at him. Iver doesn’t reply, he sees no need to ruin her experience. Then he takes her hand and says, ‘I’m glad that you liked it.’
Nora smiles and weaves her fingers into his.
‘Are you hungry?’ he continues.
‘More nauseous. I ate far too much popcorn.’
‘A proper meal will soon fix that-’
Iver is interrupted by his mobile ringing. He takes it out and looks at the display. He lets go of Nora’s hand. ‘It’s Henning,’ he says, and looks at her.
She takes one step away from him.
‘Hi, Henning,’ Iver says.
‘Did you enjoy the film?’
‘Eh?’
‘There aren’t many places where people turn off their mobiles these days so I assume that you’ve been to the cinema. Am I right?’
Iver is silent for a few seconds. Then he says, ‘It wasn’t too bad.’
Iver glances at Nora who doesn’t look back at him. Henning spends the next minutes telling him what he has found out about Thorleif Brenden, his behaviour at home, the drawing he left under Elisabeth Haaland’s pillow and the man Brenden referred to as Furio.
‘Wow,’ Iver says when Henning has finished. ‘I’m impressed.’
‘If you’re still planning to visit Asgard later, then ask if they know a hit man or enforcer who is tall as a tree and thin as beanpole and looks a little bit like Furio.’
‘Do you really think anyone will tell me that?’
‘No, but you can probably think of a slightly more elegant phrasing than I can.’
A short distance in front of him Nora is studying a shop window. ‘I spoke to TV2 earlier today,’ Iver says.
‘What did they say?’
‘That Brenden had been acting very strangely in the past couple of days. Guri Palme thought it was because he had been ill — he threw up outside the prison after Pulli’s death. And the footage he shot was completely out of focus as if he wasn’t paying attention at all while he was filming.’
‘That’s probably true if his mind was on other things.’
‘Brenden is one of their best cameramen, according to Guri. They’re very worried about him.’
‘I could include that quote in my story, and I’ll run it with a double by-line. Have fun at M.’
‘Eh?’
‘Cafe M. That’s where you’re going, isn’t it? You should try the halibut if they still serve it. It’s delicious. Grilled with some sort of apple.’
‘We’re not-’
‘Catch you later.’
Iver has no time to reply before Henning hangs up. He sighs and looks at his mobile as if it could explain to him how Henning knew where they were going.
No. Just no.
He takes hold of Nora, but this time he doesn’t seek out her fingers.
‘Listen,’ he says, while they wait for the lights at Majorstua junction to turn green. ‘Why don’t we go somewhere else for dinner?’
Chapter 71
A smiling green and red painted troll is holding up a sign outside the entrance to Ustaoset Mountain Hotel. This time, fortunately, the door is open.
Tentatively, Thorleif walks across the grey slate floor in the reception area where a white fireplace dominates the lobby. To his left, black leather chairs have been arranged around an oval coffee table. Further in, past a wall that sticks out into the long corridor, there is a sign for the Usta Restaurant.