‘Go on, talk away, Veum, nobody’s going to hear any more from you, anyway.’
‘Oh no? Don’t be too sure about that! You’ve heard of letters, haven’t you?’
After a little pause, he said: ‘And who’ve you written to? His Majesty?’
‘One thing you can count on is that it’ll go to the right places, if anything happens to me.’
‘If anything happens to you? I can’t accept responsibility for what might happen when you’re out for a stroll some dark winter’s evening.’
‘To put it another way, Bjelland, you do have responsibility now. Because whatever the hell happens, and whoever the hell actually does it, they’ll lay the blame at your door. So you ought actually to look after me from now on.’
There was a clear hint of uncertainty in his voice now. ‘So what’s supposed to be in this letter, Veum?’
‘A detailed report, from A to Z. Want to hear the short version?’
No reply. I took it as a ‘yes’.
‘For example, it deals with the operation you’ve built up round Jimmy’s and the Pastel Hotel. How you recruit the girls, how they operate, who the clients are…’
‘You know damn all about it, Veum!’
‘Sure about that, are you? I know quite a lot. I know all about the safe list. You were on the phone yourself when I was talking to Dr Evensen, I’ve talked to Robert at the Pastel Hotel, Kalle Persen at Jimmy’s – but more important than all that, there are girls who are willing to talk. Girls who’ve had enough. Not least because of what you did to Torild Skagestøl. You put the fear of God into them.’
‘I… we didn’t do a damn thing to Torild Skagestøl.’
‘Oh no? Sure about that?’
He spontaneously lowered his voice. ‘Why the hell do you think we went to such lengths to camouflage the death?’
‘Yes, and as chauffeur you chose a beginner who cracked long before anybody had even thought of checking up on him!’
‘That bloody dope won’t get much older.’
‘Oh no? You’ll take care of it, will you?’
Again he chose to remain silent.
‘So who did it? A client? You must all know who she was with that day?’
Still no answer.
‘Or was it that one of your trusties, such as one of the two supermen behind me, was the client, killed the girl – and left others to clear up the mess? Who do you trust most? Fred with no surname? Or others? A hired gunman from Oslo perhaps? A normal favour between colleagues?’
‘Why on earth would I want her dead? If what you say is true, she was a source of income for me!’
‘Because she was HIV-positive, yet still on the safe list, a potential source of infection and a cursed nuisance to the whole organisation.’
‘That’s just bollocks, Veum. If this is all the ammo you’ve got in this so-called letter of yours, then…’
‘Oh no, there’s a lot more than this, Bjelland. Want to hear?’
No reply.
‘The problem with you, as regards the police and the press too in a way, is that they’ve never found anything they can put their fingers on. You buy and sell, go bust and start up again, hotels and bars, amusement arcades and so on. Everybody knows that you’re right at the top of the dirty money market in this city, with interest rates you could write to His Majesty about; but nobody’s so far managed to dig up any real dirt on you. Till now.’
The silence was more ominous now. You could hear his soles shuffling about, the crunching gravel under them sounding like teeth shattered against a midnight pavement during an evening on the town.
‘Regards from your mother, Bjelland, by the way. And from your sister. And maybe from a few other people I talked to down there.’
‘Have you been in – Stavanger?’ he said as though it was like climbing Mount Everest.
‘It doesn’t take very long,’ I said. ‘Half an hour in the air, and you’re there.’
‘So what the hell did you get out of mother?’
‘Obviously you knew she was an eyewitness.’
‘Eyewitness? What to?’ In his confusion he reverted to a Stavanger lilt.
‘Or didn’t she ever tell you that?’
He pulled himself together, and the Stavanger lilt disappeared. ‘To what, I said?!’
‘To what you did to Roger Hansen, that time at Mosvatnet Lake, or have you forgotten about that?’
The silence lay between us like a fuse. All it needed was a spark to ignite it.
When he spoke next his voice was so low that it was barely audible. ‘It was a mishap – an accident – and even if it wasn’t, that case is so old it’s got hairs on it…’
‘Maybe so. But it’s still an aggravating factor. And what about Ragnar Hillevåg and the stray bullet at Evjemoen Military Camp? That case has got hairs on it too, I suppose?’
He continued to speak in the same low voice with a growling undertone. ‘You’ve been very thorough, I see.’
‘I could have written a whole book about you, Bjelland. But I left it at a four or five-page report. On top of those other things…’
‘What other things? I had nothing to do with Torild Skagestøl, I said!’
‘And what about Brandt?’
‘The judge? Oh, him…’
‘Yes? He died while he was with one of your girls, didn’t he? Or did your lot give him the push as well, because he was the source of the HIV infection?’
‘Brandt? Don’t make me laugh!’
‘And last of all, there’s Lalla Mongstad, who was maybe on the edge of a breakthrough in the investigation she and her paper had been carrying out into your activities for months…’
‘That reporter slag? What about her?’
‘As you say, what about her, Bjelland? Was that really necessary?’
‘I haven’t come here to solve riddles, Veum!’
‘No, so you said. But now I’ve seen it, this hotel of yours. You’ve told me about your plans, and I’ve told you a few things too.’ A cold gust of wind funnelled down my neck. ‘So – what now?’
He shifted his weight, but the beam from the powerful flashlight remained full on my face. His voice was grating. ‘Like I said, Veum, I can’t take responsibility for what happens when you’re out for an evening stroll.’
‘But the letter, Bjelland, you’re forgetting the letter!’
‘I’ve ridden out so many storms. My lawyer’ll sort this one out as well.’
The beam now came from beside me. I stood pinned in the middle of the floor by the light.
I could try jumping to one side, of course. But I was blinded. It would be a piece of cake for them to catch me again.
They were moving towards the door now. I turned slowly round following the light.
I felt unsure of myself. What were they planning to do?
The door opened, and a gust of fresh air blew in. Despite the fact that the sharp beams of light were still being shone in my face, I saw them now: three silhouettes in the doorway.
‘Feeling lonely, Veum?’ Birger Bjelland shouted.
Now it was my turn not to answer.
‘Don’t worry. One of us is staying behind. Somebody who’s dying to meet you again. So much so that he’s actually announced it, he says!’
A cackle of raucous laughter followed them out. The door slammed shut, and I heard the heavy bolt being shot on the outside.
Suddenly the light was out of my eyes. Blinded, I took a few steps sideways. Somewhere near me I heard a sound.
Forty-nine
I BENT DOWN, kicked off my shoes and quickly made off in my stocking feet. Then I stopped and held my breath, meanwhile carefully massaging my eyes, trying to erase the image of two white discs from the retinas.