‘I’m coming,’ she says, feebly.
Brogeland hurries to the next door and presses every single button on the intercom. Soon the door buzzes open again. He takes the stairs three steps at a time. He hears Nora follow him and the door slam downstairs. Doors open, curious faces look out, but Brogeland ignores them. On the second floor he knocks on the door to Henning’s flat, but there is no reply. He takes hold of the handle. Locked. Brogeland tries to contact Henning on his mobile again as Nora comes up the last few steps towards him. He lifts his index finger to his lips. She stops.
No sound.
‘Damn,’ he mutters and ends the call. ‘You wouldn’t happen to have a key, would you?’
‘Me?’
At a loss Brogeland looks around before he rings another number. Nora watches him while he waits for the call to be answered.
‘This is Detective Inspector Bjarne Brogeland from the Violent Crimes Unit in Oslo. I’m at number 5 Seilduksgaten in Grunerlokka. I need assistance opening a door. And get a bloody move on.’
Chapter 113
Gunhild Dokken looks at Henning Juul with contempt as he lies on the wet recently disturbed soil with blood pouring from his head. She pushes the dripping wet fringe away from her eyes, takes a step forwards and plunges the spade in the soil. She reckons he is dead. The rain washes away some of the blood flowing from his skull. She smiles with satisfaction and looks around. They are alone.
She should possibly have kept him alive long enough to make him tell her how the hell he knew where to look for the axe, but ultimately it makes no difference. You can’t have everything in life. She got to him in time. Let that be enough, she says to herself. Now move on.
She made up her mind the moment Henning left Fighting Fit, after the business with the clock and — not least — his comment about her T-shirts. She didn’t even go home first to pick up a weapon, she just followed him. He had got too close. And if it hadn’t been for that half-naked old codger in Juul’s stairwell she would have rung the doorbell, forced her way in and happily strangled Juul in his own flat. Much simpler, too. Many more potential weapons as well. Now she has had to make do with a spade she found in the cemetery.
But where can she hide the body?
You should possibly have thought about this before you whacked him, she says to herself, not that there was ever likely to be an ideal solution. She would never be able to haul him from the cemetery without being seen, no matter how atrocious the weather.
Her only regret is not dealing with him earlier. She should have known that he was a threat. Robert was a threat too, but in a different way. She trained with him for years, and he taught her the Pulli punch. And when he called her that day and asked her if she had shown others how to do it, she realised that Juul had managed to sow seeds of doubt in Robert’s mind. And to prevent those seeds from germinating, she had to kill him. The perfect opportunity presented itself when Robert and Petter were at each other’s throats at Tore’s funeral. Petter, that moron, was the perfect fall guy.
Dokken checks Juul’s pockets and finds a mobile which appears to be switched off or dead. She can’t know for sure if he had time to share his suspicions with anyone, but it is possible. She certainly needs to make allowances for it. This means she must act quickly. So what can she do? Leave him there?
No. Not right next to Vidar’s grave. On the other side of the fountain she notices a mound of earth covered by tarpaulin. The raindrops bounce off the plastic.
The door to Henning Juul’s flat bursts open with a crash. Bjarne Brogeland nods to the fireman who destroyed the locks with a few well-aimed whacks of his axe and then forced the door open for them. Brogeland steps inside with Nora on his heels. It takes them only a few seconds to establish that the flat is empty.
‘Who was he looking for?’ Nora asks.
‘I can’t tell you anything about that,’ Brogeland replies.
‘Henning said he had found out who did it,’ Nora continues and walks closer to the kitchen table. ‘Done what?’
Again Brogeland declines to answer. Instead he narrows his eyes, annoyed at himself for not talking to Juul earlier that day when he had the chance. At that moment his mobile rings. Brogeland quickly takes it out from his inside pocket.
‘Hi, it’s me,’ Fredrik Stang says. ‘According to a Telenor aerial in Gamlebyen, Gunhild Dokken is in that area right now. Or she was there a moment ago.’
‘Gamlebyen,’ Brogeland mutters and feels someone elbowing him. He turns to Nora who is holding up a printout of an article from Aftenposten. Brogeland sees the photograph of Irene Otnes and Gunhild Dokken in front of Vidar Fjell’s overturned gravestone. Under the photo there is the caption about the desecration of a grave in Gamlebyen only a few days after the murder of Jocke Brolenius.
‘Bloody hell,’ Brogeland swears and looks at Nora. He issues a quick order to Stang. Seconds later they are on their way out of the flat.
Chapter 114
Gunhild leaves the axe where it is, grabs hold of Juul’s feet and drags him away. The guy weighs next to nothing, she thinks, and looks over her shoulder to make sure she doesn’t back into the fountain. She smiles to herself. Juul’s lifeless head bumps against the flagstones. If he had been alive she imagines that might have been quite painful.
Soon she reaches the mound of earth. A thick sheet of tarpaulin is stretched across the grave which will probably be filled tomorrow. She lets go of Juul’s feet and glances around again. Still no one to be seen. She swiftly flings the tarpaulin to one side. Water pours into the two-metre-deep hole. Feet first she pulls Juul closer to the edge and peers down. She smiles again and looks at Juul.
Earth to earth. Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust.
Brogeland drives as fast as he dares down Toftesgate, frightening the life out of a woman with a pram who starts to cross the road by the entrance to Sofienberg Park even though he has switched on both the siren and the flashing blue lights. The windscreen wipers swish back and forth at full speed, sweeping the rain aside. Next to him Nora is clinging to the door handle and pressing herself into the seat as the buildings fly past.
Minutes later he drives under the ring road and turns into Schweigaardsgate. He turns off both the sirens and the blue light without taking his foot off the accelerator. Through his mobile he receives constant updates of where the rest of the units have positioned themselves and who will do what when they get there. Further down the road several patrol cars are driving across Dyvekes Bru. Brogeland runs a red light and follows them.
‘There’s his Vespa,’ Nora exclaims, pointing.
Brogeland hits the brakes without skidding and comes to a smooth halt.
‘Are you sure?’ he says.
‘Yes.’
Brogeland alerts everyone over the radio, forces the car’s tyres on to the pavement and stops. They both jump out. The trees by the fence provide some shelter against the powerful downpour, but even so they are soaked in seconds. Brogeland opens the boot and unlocks the gun case, takes out the police’s standard hand weapon — a Heckler amp; Koch HK P30 — and runs as quickly as he can to the nearest entrance to the cemetery. Nora follows right behind him.
Gunhild Dokken half runs back to Vidar Fjell’s grave, picks up Henning’s shoulder-bag, the axe with which she killed Jocke Brolenius and the spade. As soon as she returns to the open grave, she removes the tarpaulin that covers the mound of earth and starts shovelling it into the hole.
There is a limit to how much earth I can put in, she thinks, since there is probably going to be a funeral the next day. It’s likely that Juul’s body will be found quickly, but she will win herself time. No one coming to the cemetery will think of looking into the hole, not once she has put the tarpaulin back over the opening. And even if anyone were to do so, all they would see is a layer of soil.