Řystein's laugh sounded hollow.
* * *
The last thing Harry did before switching off the light was to consult the encyclopedia. Horsehead Nebula was a dark cloud. Not a lot was known about it, nor about Orion either, except that it was considered one of the most beautiful of all the constellations. Orion was a Greek mythical figure, a Titan and a great hunter. He was seduced by Eos, for which Artemis killed him in his fury. Harry went to sleep with the sensation that somebody was thinking about him.
On opening his eyes the following morning he could feel his thoughts were scattered far and wide, torn fragments and glimpses of half-forgotten scenes. It was as though someone had ransacked his brain, and the contents, which had been carefully tidied away in drawers and cupboards, lay strewn around. He must have been dreaming. The telephone in the hall rang and rang. Harry forced himself out of bed. It was Řystein again: he was in an office in El Tor.
'We've got a problem,' he said.
24
Săo Paulo
RASKOL'S MOUTH AND LIPS FORMED A GENTLE SMILE. IT WAS therefore impossible to say whether it was really a gentle smile or not. Harry guessed the latter.
'You have a friend in Egypt searching for a telephone number then,' Raskol said. Harry was unable to decipher whether the intonation was sarcastic or matter-of-fact.
'El Tor,' Harry said, rubbing his palm against the arm of his chair. He felt an intense discomfort. Not because he was sitting in the sterile visitors' room again, but on account of his errand. He had considered all the options. Taking a personal loan. Confiding in Bjarne Mřller. Selling the Ford Escort to the garage where it was always being repaired. But this was the only realistic chance, the only logical way to go. It was madness.
'The telephone number is not simply a number,' Harry said. 'It will lead us to the client who sent me the e-mail. The e-mail which proves he knows details about Anna's death he would not have known, had he not been present just before she died.'
'And your friend says the owners of the ISP have asked for 60,000 Egyptian pounds. And that is?'
'Approximately 120,000 kroner.'
'Which you think I should give you?'
'I don't think anything. I'm just telling you what the situation is. They want money and I haven't got it.'
Raskol ran a finger along his top lip. 'Why should that be my problem, Harry? We made an agreement and I kept my part.'
'I'll keep my part, but it will take longer without money.'
Raskol shook his head, threw out his arms and mumbled something in what Harry supposed was Romany. Řystein had been desperate on the telephone. There was no doubt they had found the correct server, he had said. But he had imagined a rusty antique in a shed, wheezing but functional, and a horse trader with a turban who wanted three camels and a pack of American cigarettes. Instead he went to an air-conditioned office where the young besuited Egyptian behind a desk had gazed at him through silver-framed glasses and told him the price was 'non-negotiable', payment was to be in untraceable notes and the offer would stand for three days.
'I assume you've considered the consequences if it leaks out that you've been receiving money from someone like me while on duty?'
'I'm not on duty,' Harry said.
Raskol stroked his ears with the palms of his hands. 'Sun Tzu says if you do not control events, they will control you. You don't have any control over events, Spiuni. It means you've blundered. I don't like people who make blunders. Hence, I have a suggestion. We'll make this simple for both parties. You give me the name of this man and I'll sort out the rest.'
'No!' Harry slammed his hand down hard on the table. 'I don't want him roughed up by one of your gorillas. I want him behind lock and key.'
'You surprise me, Spiuni. If I've understood you correctly, you're already in a sensitive position. Why not let justice be meted out to the hilt as painlessly as possible?'
'No vendetta. That was our agreement.'
Raskol smiled. 'You're a tough nut, Hole. I like that. And I respect agreements. But now you're beginning to screw up. How can I be sure this is the right man?'
'You were given the opportunity to check the key I found at the chalet was identical with Anna's.'
'And now you come to me for help again. So you'll have to give me a bit more.'
Harry swallowed. 'When I found Anna, she had a photo in her shoe.'
'Go on.'
'My thinking is she managed to put it there before the murderer shot her. It's a picture of the murderer's family.'
'Is that all?'
'Yes.'
Raskol shook his head, looked at Harry and then shook his head again.
'I don't know who's the most stupid here. You, for letting your friend pull the wool over your eyes. Your friend, who thinks he can hide after stealing money from me.' He heaved a deep sigh. 'Or me, for giving you money.'