'Come on, Arne! Christian wants to give a speech!' A man with a glass and cigar in hand stood swaying at the top of the stairs.
'Start without me,' Arne said. 'I'll just remove this nice gentleman first.'
The man furrowed his brow. 'Trouble, eh?'
'Not at all,' Vigdis hastened to say. 'Just join the others, Thomas.'
The man shrugged and left.
'The other thing which amazes me is that, even after I had confronted you with the photo, you were arrogant enough to continue sending me e-mails,' Harry said.
'I regret to have to repeat myself, Constable,' Albu slurred, 'but what are these…these e-mails you keep going on about?'
'Right. A lot of people think you can send an e-mail anonymously by subscribing to a server without giving your real name. That is a fallacy. My hacker friend has just told me that everything–absolutely everything–you do on the Net leaves an electronic trail which can be, and in this case will be, traced back to the machine they are sent from. It's just a question of knowing where to look.' Harry pulled out a packet of cigarettes from his inside pocket.
'I'd prefer it if you didn't…' Vigdis began, but broke off.
'Tell me, herr Albu,' Harry said, lighting a cigarette. 'Where were you on the Tuesday evening of last week between eleven and one o'clock?'
Arne and Vigdis Albu exchanged glances.
'We can do this here or at the police station,' Harry said.
'He was here,' Vigdis said.
'As I said.' Harry blew the smoke out through his nose. He knew he was over-playing his hand, but a half-hearted bluff would fail, and there was no way back now. 'We can do this here or at the police station. Shall I tell the guests the party's over?'
Vigdis chewed her bottom lip. 'But I'm telling you he was…' she started. She wasn't beautiful any longer.
'That's fine, Vigdis,' Albu said and patted her on the shoulder. 'Go and see to the guests. I'll walk herr Hole to the gates.'
* * *
Harry could hardly feel a breath of wind although higher up it was clearly gusting. Clouds were chasing across the sky and occasionally covering the moon. They ambled.
'Why here?' Albu asked.
'You asked for it.'
Albu nodded. 'Perhaps I did. Buy why did she have to find out like this?'
Harry shrugged. 'How did you want her to find out?'
The music had stopped and the odd salvo of laughter came from the house. Christian was under way.
'Can I borrow a cigarette?' Albu asked. 'Actually, I have given up.'
Harry passed him the packet.
'Thank you.' Albu placed a cigarette between his lips and bent over Harry's lighter. 'What are you after? Money?'
'Why does everyone ask that?' Harry mumbled.
'You're on your own. You have no papers to arrest me and you try to bluff me with threats of taking me to the police station. And if you've been inside the chalet in Larkollen, you're in at least as much trouble as I am.'
Harry shook his head.
'No money?' Albu leaned back. There were a few stars sparkling up above. 'Something personal then? Were you lovers?'
'I thought you knew everything about me,' Harry said.
'Anna took love very seriously. She loved love. No, worshipped, that's the word. She worshipped love. That was the only thing which had any place in her life. That and hatred. Do you know what neutron stars are?'
Harry shook his head. Albu held up his cigarette. 'They're planets with such compactness and high surface gravity that if I dropped this cigarette on one of them it would strike with the same force as an atom bomb. It was the same with Anna. Her gravitation to love–and hatred–was so strong that nothing could exist in the space between them. Every tiny detail caused an atomic explosion. Do you understand? It took me time to understand. She was like Jupiter–hidden behind an eternal cloud of sulphur. And humour. And sexuality.'
'Venus.'
'I beg your pardon.'
'Nothing.'
The moon protruded from between two clouds, and like a fictional beast the bronze hart stepped out of the shadows in the garden.
'Anna and I had arranged to meet at midnight,' Albu said. 'She said she had a couple of personal things of mine she wanted to return. I was parked in Sorgenfrigata between twelve and a quarter past. We had agreed I would phone her from the car instead of ringing the bell. Because of a nosy neighbour, she said. Anyway, she didn't answer, so I drove home.'
'So your wife was lying?'
'Of course. The day you arrived with the photo, we agreed she would give me an alibi.'
'And why are you giving up the alibi now?'
Albu laughed. 'Does it matter? We're two people talking, with the moon as a silent witness. I can deny everything afterwards. To be frank, I don't think you have anything you can use against me, anyway.'