Thorleif looks around. He can’t remember if he saw any weapons in the tool shed. There must be an axe, he thinks. Next to the tap he sees a set of kitchen knives. He takes the biggest one, the one that looks the sharpest, and feels the edge. Yes, it’s nice and sharp, he decides. He knows that he must get the first strike right. No mistakes. He has covered several crime stories where the victim tried to use a knife against a burglar or boyfriend only to fall victim to their own weapon.
Thorleif puts down the knife on the table and looks outside again. In just a couple of minutes the sky has grown darker. But he sees no one. He hears no one. He blinks and runs a hand over his sweaty face. His T-shirt sticks to his body. Take it easy now, Thorleif, he says to himself. Stay alert.
You have been in worse situations than this.
*
A dark Mercedes saloon stops in front of the red information board cut in the shape of a cabin, complete with ridged roof and windows. Orjan Mjones, who had been leaning against the left wall of the Mix kiosk while he listened out for the sound of the engine, steps forwards and goes over to Jeton Pocoli and Durim Redzepi as they emerge from the car.
‘What’s happening?’ Pocoli asks.
‘He’s up there,’ Mjones says and nods in the direction of Hallingskarvet as he takes out his mobile and opens an email from Flurim Ahmetaj. The email contains a JPEG file with a map of all the cabins in Ustaoset. One of the numbered cabins has been circled in red.
Pocoli and Redzepi move closer.
‘Here is the road,’ Mjones says, pointing. ‘It bends to the right a little further up.’ He turns towards the petrol station and gestures to the right, to the back of the brown building. ‘And you can see the cabin up there.’ He points towards the red cabin. ‘There are tons of cabins here, but I bet my life that’s where he is.’
‘But won’t he see us if we take the road?’ Pocoli asks.
‘Yes, and that’s precisely why we won’t do that. We’ll split up. Before the hill begins there is a road called Nystolvegen to the right. You’ll take that and follow it for a while.’
‘But won’t he still be able to see us from the cabin?’
‘Yes, possibly. But he doesn’t know who you are. He has only met me.’
Pocoli nods. ‘So we take the long way round and approach the cabin from the rear?’
‘Yes. Spread out so you cover as much of the back as possible. Don’t get closer to the cabin than fifty metres. And take as much time as you like. There is a greater chance that he will be less vigilant if you’re the only two people he sees on the road.
‘And what will you be doing?’
‘I’ll stay here until you’re in position. Once you are, I’ll start to walk up the hill. If he sees me, he might try to run away, away from me.’
‘And then he will run right into us.’
‘Exactly.’
Pocoli nods again. ‘It sounds like a good plan.’
Chapter 88
Orjan Mjones waits for fifteen minutes until Jeton and Durim have reached Nystolvegen before he walks back to the hotel. He enters the lobby and nods to the girl at reception.
‘Hi,’ he says and pretends to be out of breath. ‘I didn’t find him.’
‘Oh,’ she stutters, nervously. ‘What a… shame.’
‘You don’t happen to know where he lives, do you?’
‘No, it… I’ve no idea. He never mentioned it. He never really said very much about anything.’
Mjones nods, turns around, and sees that the laptop is no longer on the table.
‘It was my laptop,’ she says by way of explanation. ‘I let him borrow it. He didn’t have a mobile or a laptop with him.’
Mjones nods. ‘Did he say why he wanted to borrow it?’
‘No, all he said was that he… he had to check something.’
Another nod. He fixes his gaze on her. She is sweet. A sweet, innocent and naive young girl.
‘What’s your name?’ he asks.
‘Mia. Mia Sikveland.’
‘Okay, Mia, I need to have a look at your laptop.’
She hesitates.
‘I just need a quick look,’ he assures her.
She still appears reluctant.
‘Don’t you need a court order or something in order to do that? Or a green light from the public prosecutor?’
Mjones has to think quickly. Mia is clearly not as gullible as she looks. He closes his eyes in an overbearing manner as if he is explaining something very simple to a small child.
‘This is an active investigation,’ he lectures her. ‘In which case it’s my decision whether I need to obtain a warrant from the court before I carry out a search or confiscate potential evidence.’
She looks at him for a few seconds.
‘Besides, it’s late. I can’t call anyone in Oslo now.’
‘But, I… I thought you were from the local police?’
‘No, I’ve been following Br-… Einar all the way from Oslo.’
She nods slowly.
‘This isn’t unusual. And you could help me save time,’ he says with a hint of irritation in his voice. ‘Time could be of the essence here.’
‘Okay, it’s just that I… ’
He looks at her.
‘Nothing.’
She hands him her laptop bag over the counter.
‘Thank you. And I’ll need your telephone number and address in case I need to speak to you again.’
‘Okay,’ she says, unwillingly.
‘Thank you,’ Mjones says and smiles at her.
*
Thorleif blinks hard in an attempt to stay awake. His legs can barely manage to keep him upright. He has no idea what time it is except that it must be late. The sky is dark, but there are no clouds to cover the twinkling stars.
He drinks a mouthful of water from a glass he has filled up several times. He will have to go to the lavatory soon. Surely it would be safe to go now? He hasn’t seen a living soul since the two men he noticed further down the road for what must now be several hours ago. He runs to the lavatory, pees, but doesn’t wash his hands before resuming his position behind the window.
His eyes widen.
Only 100 metres away he sees a figure striding purposefully up the road. Thorleif snatches up a pair of binoculars he found in a drawer in the living room and puts them to his eyes. He gasps.
Frantically, Thorleif grabs the knife and raises it, ready to strike. The man with the ponytail is close now. What the hell am I going to do? Thorleif panics. He can’t possibly know which of these cabins I’m in, he says to himself in disbelief.
Or can he?
He takes a step back as he considers his options. What is better: making a run for it now in the middle of the night or hiding somewhere in the cabin and waiting for the right moment to attack? He mutters a string of expletives. He can’t stay behind the window in case he makes a movement that attracts the man’s attention. He looks around while his thoughts rage. Then he grips the knife harder and slips into the living room.
Chapter 89
It is quiet. Thorleif holds his breath, looks at the knife, feels the weight of it. He has never held a knife like this before nor thought what he is thinking now. Even the idea of stabbing another human being fills him with revulsion. But then he thinks, you have done it before. You’ve already killed another human being, and you did it to protect your family. Now you have to do it again, this time to protect yourself.
He tilts his head. The footsteps are right outside the cabin. Damn, he thinks. Somehow the man must have discovered that Thorleif has a friend who owns a cabin in the area. Thorleif exhales and waits. A drop of sweat runs from his forehead down to his temple. He lifts his T-shirt to his face, wipes it off, dries the handle of the knife as well and grips it once more.
Then he hears the sound of the door.
And the floor squeaks.
Even though he hasn’t been out in the hallway, he remembers the sound from when he was here with Einar. His heartbeats throb inside his head. Thorleif closes his eyes, he hears the rustling of clothes. Light footsteps. Controlled breathing. He tries to concentrate, telling himself he must be ready to strike at the right moment without fear or hesitation.