Cold Hearts Page 19

  She gave a brief nod, closed the door behind her and walked towards the entrance of the star-shaped building.

  I sat watching her.

  A shooting star … Why did I always think about shooting stars? A streak of light in a dark sky. Then it’s gone for ever, and the sky is as black as before.

  30

  BEFORE STARTING THE CAR I rang Helleve and asked whether they had made contact with Lars Mikalsen.

  He sounded irritable. ‘No, Varg. Have you got anything to offer?’

  My stomach knotted. ‘Did you get inside?’

  ‘Yes, Varg. We got into the flat. And, no, Varg. He wasn’t there. Another disappearance?’

  ‘I certainly hope not.’

  ‘Was there anything else?’ He sounded more unfriendly than usual.

  ‘No. I assume …’

  ‘Yes, Varg. We’ve got a full-scale search for him under way. We’ll pick him up inside a couple of hours. Was there anything else? No? Have a nice evening, Varg, and please … no more bodies. Deal?’

  ‘Deal,’ I said, and we rang off. But I was not at all sure that I could keep my end of the bargain. I had a feeling that danger was afoot for several people in this case. One and a half million in street value was not what one might call small change. And I was beginning to have an ever clearer idea of who had robbed Lars Mikalsen for that sum of money.

  From Kristofer Jansons vei I drove home to make myself something to eat. I took the fish from the freezer box, opened a can of chopped tomatoes and sliced the leeks. While I was waiting for the potatoes to boil I dialled Hege Jensen’s number again. This time she answered.

  ‘Yes. Hege here.’ Her enunciation was unclear, her voice reedy and trembling.

  I felt my throat constrict. ‘Veum here. How are you?’

  ‘… Fine.’

  ‘Where are you?’

  She mumbled something I didn’t catch.

  ‘What was that? I didn’t hear.’

  ‘… in a safe place. They’re looking after me.’

  ‘What? Where? Who’s looking after you?’

  I heard a voice in the background. She turned away from the telephone and said something. I heard some indefinable sounds from the mobile until a new voice answered. ‘Hello? Veum? Weren’t you told to keep away?’ It was Rolf Terje Dalby.

  ‘Several times. But now the situation …’

  ‘Shut up. We know it was Hege who gave you the job. We’re not very happy, neither with you nor her. One of our girls has disappeared, another’s dead.’

  ‘Our girls? Can I quote you on that next time I talk to the police?’

  ‘You, Veum, should keep a very low profile. Otherwise it’ll be you they find floating in the sea next time!’

  ‘I’m inundated with good quotes here. To hell with it, I think I’ll contact them right now.’

  ‘Don’t do anything hasty now, Veum! I’m warning you … for the last time.’

  I heard Hege say something in the background.

  ‘By the way, Hege says hello and the job’s off. You’ll get what she owes you, and you can stop the search.’

  ‘Is that so? Could I have that from her own mouth?’

  Again there was an exchange of views in the background, more fumbling with the mobile, and then Hege was back. ‘He’s right. There’s nothing else to concern yourself with. There’ll only be … a lot of trouble.’

  ‘Hege … I understand that you’re under pressure now. Where are you? At his house?’

  ‘Yes, I … but I’m not under any pressure.’

  ‘You’re stoned. They’ve pumped you full of drugs, and now you’re saying what you have to, aren’t you.’

  ‘I am not … stoned.’

  ‘No, I’ve seldom heard anyone admit it. But I can hear it in your voice. I know where he lives. I’ll be there within a quarter of an hour.’

  ‘No! Don’t …’

  I rang off, switched off all the rings on the stove, covered the fish with a plate and hurried out. I took the car, even though I could have got there almost as fast with a quick walk. But if I wanted to bring her back – which was my intention – it sounded as if we would need a means of transport.

  In Rosenbergsgaten I parked by the kerb, went to the front of the block and straight to his door. There was no bell outside. I pounded on the door. ‘Dalby! If you don’t open I’ll ring the police! … Do you hear me?’

  I stood listening. I couldn’t hear anything inside.

  ‘Dalby! I know you’re in there. Come on! Open up!’

  Now I could hear something. Her faint voice reached the door. ‘Don’t! You’re breaking my arm!’

  I cast around. Then with the space there was I took a run-up and kicked the lock hard. The door quivered, and I felt the recoil as a dull pain in my calf. But the door held firm.

  From upstairs I heard a woman’s voice, accompanied by a child’s screaming: ‘What’s going on down there? We’ll ring the police if it doesn’t stop!’

  I put my mouth to the door crack. ‘Dalby! Last chance! I’ve got my mobile in my hand. Now I’m ringing the police …’

  Hege screamed – a long piercing shriek.

  ‘Dalby! I’m ringing now!’

  I put my hand in my inside pocket. Then the door opened. Without waiting I placed my foot against it, kicked it inwards and barged my way through.

  Within seconds I had an overview of the situation.

  Rolf Terje Dalby had lost his balance when I kicked the door in, but now he was spoiling for a fight. In his right hand he held the same knife as when I last saw him, and he stood with legs akimbo, arms out from his body and the knife pointing upwards. His alert eyes watched me.

  Hege lay on the ground, her arm bent to the side in an unnatural position. She was whimpering and moaning, and her eyes roamed the room, unseeing. ‘You broke my arm!’ she groaned. ‘You broke my arm!’

  Fury rose in me like a tidal wave, but I stood where I was. I didn’t like the knife.

  ‘Dalby … Wise up now. Don’t add to the crimes you’ll already have to answer for. Greetings to you by the way.’

  ‘Greetings? Who from? Father Christmas?’

  ‘From KG Monsen.’

  ‘From KG? He’s escaped from prison for fuck’s sake! The whole town’s after him. When we get hold of him …’

  ‘Yes, what then? You grew up together.’

  ‘So? Get the hell out of here! We haven’t got anything to talk about.’

  I made a gesture towards Hege. ‘Not without her. She has to go to A&E, surely you can see that, can’t you?’

  ‘She’s not going any-fucking-where! She has to work!’

  ‘To work? With her arm in a sling?’

  He brandished the knife. ‘I’m warning you!’

  I moved a couple of steps forward, without taking my eyes off him. ‘Hege? Can you stand up?’

  She whimpered. ‘Don’t know …’ She struggled to her knees, grabbed the edge of a chair, managed to stand up.

  Dalby hissed at her. ‘Hege! Don’t you dare! We’ll break every bone in your body!’

  I sidled round in an arc to her, bent down and grabbed her under the arm, not taking my eyes off him for a second. ‘Don’t listen to him. Come on …’

  She was heavier to lift than I had expected. For a moment I looked down to see how she was doing. That was when he made his bid.

  The attack was swift and brutal. I saw the blade coming, but utter fear gave me unexpected strength. I dragged Hege up from the floor, at such speed that she growled with pain, pushed her to the side, twisted round and avoided the knife by a whisker.

  For an instant, Dalby was off balance. Without mercy I brought my knee up into his groin, snatched his arm and smacked his wrist against the table so hard that he dropped the knife, then I forced him into a half nelson, pushed him down onto the floor and buried my knee in his spine.

  I could hear my own breathing, as heavy as a two-stroke uphill. Dalby gasped for air with a whistling, bronchitic wheeze. H
e pressed his free hand down to his groin as he writhed in pain. Hege stood leaning against the table staring at us with narrow eyes and tiny pupils.

  I looked at her. ‘Can you walk unaided?’

  A shudder went through her and her eyes wandered. ‘I can try.’

  ‘Ohhh!’ Dalby groaned aloud and fought to get free.

  I pushed his arm even further up. ‘One broken arm’s enough, don’t you think?’

  He mumbled something into the floor.

  ‘What did you say? I didn’t hear.’

  He turned his face to the side. ‘You’re finished, Veum. Your days are numbered in this town.’

  ‘And who’s counting them? Kjell Boy?’

  ‘Witless man lies awake all night, thinking hither and thither.’

  ‘Which means?’

  ‘You sound as stupid as you look, you prick!’

  ‘But I know all about what you and Malthus are up to. I know exactly what you were waiting for last Saturday, and what you’re so desperate to get your hands on now. I think I even know where it is.’

  ‘What!’ He tried to turn his head right round.

  ‘Give my regards to Malthus and tell him if he wants his package back, ring me.’

  ‘You’re bluffing!’

  ‘Try me!’

  ‘You’re bluffing!’ he repeated.

  Hege had at last plucked up the courage. She staggered from the table to the door, grabbing the inside handle and stood swaying. ‘Shall we … go?’

  ‘Hege!’ Dalby yelled. ‘Kjell’s gonna kill you! I can promise you that!’

  I forced his head hard against the floor. ‘Shut up, you blockhead.’

  ‘Witless man,’ he started, driven by an inner demon.

  ‘Shut up, I said!’

  ‘… safest silent,’ his mouth chafed against the filthy wooden floor.

  ‘Perhaps you should listen to Odin’s words of wisdom yourself, Rolfy son. Now you just listen to me. From today onwards Hege is under my protection. Do you hear me? Tell Malthus too, and take note, both of you.’

  ‘Varg,’ Hege whined. ‘My arm.’

  ‘Yes, I’m coming.’

  I stretched to the side and grasped Dalby’s knife. ‘I’ll look after this.’ Once again I pushed down the back of his head. ‘And you stay here! Got that!’

  ‘One is never recompensed by evil men for the good one does.’

  ‘Your father would be proud of you.’

  In one rapid leap I was on my feet and over by the door. I opened it and ushered Hege into the corridor. In the doorway I turned round.

  He had got to his feet. With eyes like hot coals, he stood glowering at me.

  Neither of us had any further words of wisdom to impart. I slammed the door between us and led Hege quickly and firmly to the car.

  ‘Next stop A&E,’ I said, getting behind the wheel and inserting the key.

  31

  AT BERGEN A&E they were used to most things. A person, obviously drugged up, with a broken arm was not the most sensational visitor they’d had in the building. Nonetheless, they treated her with decency and respect, as if she were a CEO’s wife from the swish district of Fana, who had been so unfortunate as to twist her foot on the marble steps up from the swimming pool.

  I sat outside and waited while she had her arm attended to. The colourful community of casualty department patients passing me would have made Noah pull up the gangplank long before departure time. Most also came in pairs. Small boys and girls who had broken arms or legs practising indoor sports were accompanied by their fathers or mothers. Two young brawlers were each escorted by a uniformed officer, one with a broken nose, the other so unruly that he was led past the queue in handcuffs. An elderly, down-at-heel woman was accompanied by another woman who might have been her daughter, but equally well could have been a home help. There was a touch of merriment when two gentlemen, somewhat inebriated and advanced in years, who could not agree on who required treatment first, had to account for what ailed them.

  I was beginning to feel in need of a bit of emergency psychiatric treatment myself after waiting for an hour before Hege was led out again by a nurse with straight, blonde hair and red roses in her cheeks. I got up and went over to them.

  Hege still had problems standing on her feet without help, and the nurse regarded me with concern. ‘Are you a relative?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘She shouldn’t be left alone. The doctor considered she was still under the strong influence of drugs. Where …?’ She searched for the right word.

  ‘She was in a flat I visited as part of an investigation.’

  ‘Oh? You’re from the police, are you?’

  ‘No. Private investigator.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Don’t you hospitalise patients in situations like this?’

  ‘There’s an acute assessment unit in Haukeland for such cases.’ Before I could spit out the word ambulance she had anticipated my thinking. ‘I can ring them and tell them you’re on your way, if you can drive her.’

  ‘No problem. My car’s outside.’

  She left Hege with me. I offered her my arm, and she hung on it like a drowning woman clings to a branch by the riverbank. We stumbled towards the car. I leaned over and opened the door, a complicated manoeuvre while keeping her upright at the same time, and coaxed her into position on the front seat.

  I leaned across her to fasten the seat belt. She laid her face against my shoulder and breathed into my neck. This was not a sign of affection; she was falling asleep.

  I suddenly thought of Thomas and how lucky we had been, Beate and I, despite everything, we had not had this problem on our plate. I tried to imagine them, Thomas and Hege, when they were in the same class. I could remember Thomas with such clarity it hurt. Hege was more blurred, but I did have a vague memory of her, a sweet girl with a somewhat bitter smile even then, not altogether unlike the smile Siv had given me earlier in the day. But what was it that caused lives to veer off in different directions? Was it possible to predict, or was it simply woven into your destiny from a very young age? Such fragile boundaries, so easy to take the life-saving step across the precipice … or plunge down headlong into it …

  I got in behind the wheel, reversed out of the car park and turned into Vestre Strømkaien. For a short while I was on the motorway from the spaghetti junction by Nygårdstangen to Danmarks plass. At the beginning of Fjøsangerveien I moved into the left lane to take Ibsens gate towards Haukeland. I arrived at the back of the main hospital building, by the entrance to the acute assessment unit, and had no sooner got out of the car than two nurses appeared and helped me to carry Hege from the car and into reception, where she was seated in a wheelchair.

  I went to reception to see if there was anything else they needed from me, but they already had personal information from A&E. ‘The only detail we lack is next-of-kin.’

  ‘Mm, I don’t have a name to give you there, but ring Cathrine Leivestad at the Outreach Centre. She’s bound to be able to help you find the right person.’

  The woman in reception nodded and made a note. ‘And your name is?’

  ‘Veum. Varg Veum.’ I gave her my telephone number as well, but refrained from inviting her to dinner.

  The woman smiled professionally, thanked me for my help, and then Hege was whisked off for another examination.

  I departed with haste. Emergency departments have that effect on me, as though they were a kind of flesh-eating plant that sucked in everything that came within range, whether bumble bee, wasp or private investigator.

  It was pitch black by the time I returned home to Telthussmauet. I put my unfinished meal in the fridge and cut myself four thick slices of bread instead, spread peanut butter on two of them, put sliced fresh tomatoes and sheep sausage on the others. With this late supper I had a glass of milk, in case I had to be up early and drive the next day. It was too late to do anything now anyway. I had a quick shower, went to bed and switched off the light before I could cou
nt to twenty.

  My mobile woke me. I turned over in bed and groped across the bedside table until I found it. With the other hand I found my watch. A quarter to nine.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Is that Veum?’ It was a woman’s voice, young and tentative.

  ‘Yes. How can I help?’

  ‘Er … Have you been asking after me?’

  ‘That depends on …’ Then I was wide wake. ‘Who am I talking to?’

  ‘This is … Margrethe Monsen.’

  ‘Margrethe! Where are you?’

  ‘It …’

  ‘Is your brother there, too? Karl Gunnar?’

  ‘… Yes, we …’

  ‘Where are you?’

  ‘We’re keeping low. There are people after us.’

  ‘I know. But listen … Where can I meet you?’

  Silence.

  ‘Hello! Are you there?’

  ‘…Yes, I just had to consult … my brother.’

  ‘And what did he say?’

  ‘You’re a … private detective, aren’t you? You won’t arrest him, will you?’

  ‘I’m not allowed to arrest anyone, Margrethe. His escape is not my concern. All I want is to talk to you both.’

  ‘We’re in a boathouse, up by Flesland.’

  ‘I see. Can you give me any more precise directions?’

  ‘My brother was driving, but … You drive past that ex-holiday camp.’

  ‘Lønningen.’

  ‘Yes, that must be it. And then down to the sea and up the hill until you come to a side road.’ As she spoke I could hear in the background, almost as proof that she was telling the truth, the sound of a plane taking off. She raised her voice. ‘There are planes overhead all the time!’

  She explained where to go and where to park, and I jotted down notes on the pad I always kept by my bed for occasions such as these.

  ‘When you’ve parked, continue until you come to a postbox. It’s been squashed flat. From there it’s only five minutes through the forest and down to the sea. You’ll see some rooms at the back of the boathouse.’

  ‘And I’ll find you there?’