It feels weird to hear the voice of a public figure he has never met in real life. But everyone in Jessheim knows who she is as she comes from Kløfta and would often be seen in Jessheim when she was young. The local newspapers have followed her political career from the start. Somehow Remi feels that he knows her and right now he doesn’t want to talk to a total stranger.
‘You wanted me to come,’ Trine says in a slightly harsh tone of voice that startles him. ‘And here I am. It’s my understanding that you haven’t met the demand I made. If you want something, Remi, then you have to give something. This means that if we’re to continue with this, talking, I mean, you and me, then you have to show good faith. You have to give me something in return.’
Remi snorts, but takes care that no sound escapes his nostrils. In view of the mess Trine Juul-Osmundsen has got herself into, he might have expected her to understand. But no. Instead, he has to give her something.
He knows what will happen if he does. The moment he opens the door, the police will storm the house and overpower him.
There is no way he will give her anything.
‘How many people are inside with you?’
Too many, Remi thinks to himself while he shakes his head.
‘I want you to release one of the hostages, Remi. No more, no less.’
Remi snorts again.
This was a mistake, he thinks. The day has been full of mistakes. And he knows what the rest of his life will be like. First he will be remanded in custody, then there will be mass vilification in the media and meetings with his lawyers in prison, and finally the trial. Even if they let him out in twenty years, everyone will know who he is and what he did. That’s no kind of life.
So what do you choose?
He looks at the gun. Then he gets up.
‘No,’ he says, picking up the gun. He looks at Emilie.
‘What did you say?’ Trine asks.
‘I won’t be releasing anyone.’
‘You have to,’ she protests.
I don’t have to do anything, Remi thinks as he squeezes the gunstock.
‘It doesn’t matter,’ he says quietly.
‘Why not?’
‘Because it’s all over now.’
‘No, Remi, it isn’t.’
‘Yes,’ he says, cocking the gun. ‘It’s over. And now I’m going to kill us all.’
Chapter 81
If anyone were to ask Trine to recount what happened next, she wouldn’t have been able to. Not in detail. She saw Simen Krogh make a thrusting movement with his hand and then she screamed. She doesn’t remember what came out of her mouth, but whatever it was, it must have worked because he stopped and looked at her. And God knows what the hostage negotiator did. But the gunshot never rang out. Nor did the hostage taker hang up.
The hissing down the other end of the phone feels like piercing, high-frequency pain. Trine blinks, tries to focus and it helps, her vision improves, but she keeps staring at a point in front of her. The hostage negotiator says something to her, but Trine ignores her.
She filters out all noises and tries to imagine Remi Gulliksen and the terrified hostages who are with him inside the house. What they must be going through. Pressing Remi to release a hostage was a mistake.
‘Remi,’ she says quietly. ‘I think I know why you wanted me to come.’
And this time she waits until he says something. It’s not much of an answer, but there is a grunt, a signal that he is interested in hearing what she has to say.
‘You and I,’ she says and waits a little longer again. ‘We’ve both done something we shouldn’t have. We’ve both been backed into a corner and we’re desperate to find a way out.’
Trine holds another pause; her forehead gets hot.
‘I think I know a little about how you feel,’ she says and leans forward on her elbows, resting them on her knees. Some hair falls in front of her eyes, but she doesn’t brush it away. She waits a little longer before she says: ‘I’ve never let anyone dictate to me. I’ve fought injustice wherever I’ve come across it. But I’ve learned something in the last few days, Remi. Or, at least, I think I have. And I understand that sometimes it’s pointless to fight the inevitable. You can stand in the sea with water up to your knees and tell yourself you’ll stay where you are, even if a giant wave comes towards you. But no matter how strong you are, that wave will knock you over.’
Trine pauses.
‘Do you understand what I mean, Remi? Do you hear what I’m saying?’
Pause. The silence gnaws at her insides. Trine holds her breath, clutches her fingers.
‘I hear you.’
‘I’ve got a suggestion,’ Trine says, warming to her subject. ‘I’ve never liked talking on the phone. I prefer being able to look people in the eye. So what I’m going to do now,’ she says and looks up for a brief moment at the protests she can read in the faces of the police officers in the mobile incident truck, ‘is to leave this truck and go and stand outside the house. I want you to walk to a window, so that—’
‘Why? So you can take me out?’
‘No,’ Trine says emphatically. ‘No one here will shoot you. I give you my word.’
She gets up and brushes off a police officer who tries to stop her.
‘If you look up now,’ she says, taking a step down on to the tarmac outside the truck, ‘then you’ll see me. I’d really like to be able to see you, too, Remi.’
There is silence.
Trine scans every window for signs of movement. She sees nothing. Hears nothing.
Then a curtain twitches.
‘Like that, yes,’ she says and feels a sense of agitation. She notices that it has started to rain, a soft, cool drizzle that lowers the temperature in her head and makes it easier to think. ‘And I’d like to see the whole of you. Do you think you can do that for me?’
Remi makes no reply. But soon she sees the face of a man with dark eyes. The raindrops settle like tiny pearls on her glasses, but she can still see him clearly.
‘Hi,’ she says and smiles. ‘Good to see you.’
No response.
‘What I wanted to tell you,’ she continues and locks eyes with Remi, ‘is that I’ve realised that I have to let it happen. There’s nothing I can do to make this… giant wave… disappear.’
Trine loses the thread for a moment. She shakes her head and a thought occurs to her. The fighter in her miraculously returns. There is no way she will accept that the winner takes all. There is no way she will be the only one who takes a beating. She will dish one out as well.
She feels all eager and excited, but then her mind returns to the situation in hand.
‘Remi, I know it’s tempting to just wait for the wave to sweep you away. God knows the thought has crossed my mind, too, more than once. I’ve raged at the people who made my life difficult and caused me pain, but at some point you have to let go of the past and start looking forwards.’
Trine tries to see through her misted-up glasses. It is becoming increasingly difficult.
‘And I think starting with an apology is a good thing. Apologies matter, Remi. It’s a—’
‘What did you say?’
‘Eh?’
‘I said what did you say?’
Remi’s voice has grown harsher.
‘I said it’s important to say you’re sorry. It’s the cornerstone of every human relationship.’
‘Don’t talk to me about apologies.’
‘Why n—’
‘You know nothing about apologies.’
Trine is temporarily wrong-footed.
‘No, perhaps I don’t,’ she says and tries to find Remi’s eyes through the beads of moisture on her glasses. ‘But I know it’s a thin line between love and hate. And I’m absolutely sure that you loved Emilie once, Remi, and that perhaps you still do. It’s easy to love and to hate. But forgiving someone might well be the hardest thing of all. And I’m not saying that you have to forgive the people who ruined your life because no one can demand to be forgiven. But nor do I think you can force someone to apologise. If you say you’re sorry, then you have to mean it. And you yourself have to recognise that you did something wrong and you must truly want to make amends. Wouldn’t you agree with me, Remi?’