Cockroaches(87)

Jens apologized for the quality of joke that circulated through the finance world.

Afterward Harry tried telling the joke to Nho, but either his English or Nho’s wasn’t up to the task because the situation just became embarrassing.

Then he went into Liz and asked if it was all right if he sat there for a while. After an hour she’d had enough of the silent presence and told him to leave.

He ate dinner at Le Boucheron again. The Frenchman spoke to him in French, and Harry smiled and said something in Norwegian.


Harry dreamed about her again. Red hair spread around and the calm, secure eyes. He waited for what usually followed, the seaweed growing out of her mouth and eye sockets, but it didn’t happen.

“It’s Jens.”

Harry woke up and realized he had answered the phone in his sleep.

“Jens?” He wondered why his heart had suddenly started beating so fast.

“Sorry, Harry, but this is an emergency. Runa’s gone.”

Harry was wide awake.

“Hilde’s frantic. Runa should have been home for dinner, and now it’s three in the morning. I’ve called the police, and they’ve alerted their patrol cars, but I wanted to ask you for help as well.”

“To do what?”

“To do what? I don’t know. Could you come over here? Hilde’s crying her eyes out.”

Harry could imagine the scene. He had no desire to witness the rest.

“Listen, Jens, there’s not a lot I can do right now. Give her a Valium if she isn’t too drunk and call all Runa’s friends.”

“The police said the same. Hilde says she hasn’t got any friends.”

“Shit!”





41


Wednesday, January 22


Hilde Molnes was definitely too drunk for Valium. She was too drunk for most things, apart from getting even drunker.

Jens didn’t appear to notice. He kept running in and out of the kitchen with water and ice looking like a hunted animal.

Harry sat on the sofa half listening to her babble.

“She thinks something terrible has happened,” Jens said.

“Tell her that more than eighty percent of all missing persons turn up in one piece,” Harry said, as though what he said needed to be translated into her own babblespeak.

“I’ve told her that. But she thinks someone’s done something to Runa. She can feel it in her bones, she says.”

“Nonsense!”

Jens perched on the edge of a chair wringing his hands. He seemed totally incapable of thought or action and looked at Harry imploringly. “Runa and Hilde have argued a great deal recently. I wondered perhaps … if she’s run off to punish her mother. It’s not beyond the realm of possibility.”

Hilde Molnes coughed, and there was movement from the sofa. She sat herself up and gulped down some more gin. The tonic was long forgotten.

“She gets like that sometimes,” Jens said, as if she weren’t there. And in a way she wasn’t, Harry could see. Her jaw had dropped and she was snoring softly. Jens glanced at her.

“The first time I met her she told me she drinks tonic to avoid catching malaria. It contains quinine, you know. But it tastes so boring without gin.” He smiled wanly and lifted the phone again to check the dial tone was there. “In case she …”

“I understand,” Harry said.

They took a seat on the terrace and listened to the town. The sounds of pneumatic drills carried above the hum of the traffic.

“The new elevated motorway,” Jens said. “They’re working on it day and night now. It’s going to go straight through the quarter over there.” He pointed.

“I’ve heard a Norwegian’s involved in the project, Ove Klipra. Do you know him?” Harry looked at Jens from the corner of his eye.

“Ove Klipra, yes, of course. We’re his biggest broker. I’ve done quite a few currency deals for him.”

“Oh yes? Do you know what he’s up to at the moment?”

“Up to? He’s been buying a lot of companies, if that’s what you mean.”

“What kind of companies?”

“Mostly smaller entrepreneur-driven companies. He tends to develop capacity to be able to take on a greater share of the BERTS transport contract by buying up subcontractors.”

“Is that wise?”

Jens’s spirits rose, obviously relieved to think about something else. “As long as the buyouts can be financed, it is. And as long as the companies don’t go down the drain before they’re awarded the expected commissions.”

“Do you know a company called Phuridell?”

“Certainly do.” Jens laughed. “Klipra asked us to do some analysis on them and we recommended he should buy. The question, though, is how you know about Phuridell.”