* * *
While Bjørn Holm was taking the light blue hospital clothes from Adele’s wardrobe he felt Geir Bruun’s eyes on his back from the doorway.
‘Why don’t you just take everything?’ Bruun said. ‘Then I won’t have the bother of throwing it out. Where’s your colleague, Harry, by the way?’
‘He’s gone skiing in the mountains,’ Holm said patiently, putting the garments individually in the plastic bags he had brought along.
‘Really? Interesting. He didn’t strike me as the skiing type. Where?’
‘Can’t say. Talking of skis, what was Adele wearing when she went to Håvass? There’s no ski gear here.’
‘She borrowed it from me, of course.’
‘She borrowed ski stuff from you?’
‘You sound so surprised.’
‘You didn’t strike me as … the skiing type.’ Holm noticed that his words projected an innuendo that had not been intentional and felt his neck glow.
Bruun chuckled and twirled round in the doorway. ‘Right, I’m more … the clothes type.’
Holm cleared his throat and – without knowing why – made his voice go deeper. ‘May I have a look?’
‘Ooh, goodness me,’ Bruun lisped, seeming to revel in Holm’s discomfort. ‘Come on, let’s go and see what I’ve got.’
‘Half past four,’ Kaja said, passing the pot of stew to Harry for the second time. Their hands didn’t touch. Nor did their eyes. Nor their words. The night they had shared in Oppsal was as distant as a two-day-old dream. ‘According to the script, I’m supposed to be standing on the south side now, smoking a cigarette.’
Harry nodded and passed the pot to Kolkka who scraped it out before shovelling down the contents.
‘OK,’ Harry said. ‘Kolkka, will you take the west-facing window? The sun’s low now, so check for any glinting of binoculars.’
‘Not until I’ve eaten,’ he answered slowly in Swedish and with emphasis, shoving yet another fully loaded fork into his mouth.
Harry cocked an eyebrow. Glanced at Kaja and motioned for her to go.
When she was outside Harry sat by the window and combed the plateau and the ridges. ‘So Bellman employed you when no one else would, did he?’ He said it softly, but the silence in the room was so complete he could have whispered it.
A few seconds passed with no response. Harry assumed Kolkka was processing the fact that Harry had engaged him on a personal matter.
‘I know about the rumour that was spread after you were given the boot by Europol. You had beaten up an ex-con during questioning. That’s right, isn’t it?’
‘That’s my business,’ Kolkka said, lifting the fork to his mouth. ‘But he might not have shown me sufficient respect.’
‘Mm. The interesting thing was that Europol spread the rumour themselves. So that the rumour would make things easier for them. And for you, I suppose. And of course for the parents and solicitors of the girl you were questioning.’
Harry heard the chewing behind him stop.
‘So that they got their compensation on the quiet without having to drag you and Europol into a courtroom. The girl avoided having to sit in the witness box and say that when you were in her room asking her about the friend who had been raped, you got so excited by the answers that you started to touch her up. Fifteen years old, it says in Europol’s internal files.’
Harry could hear Kolkka breathing heavily.
‘Let’s assume that Bellman also read the files,’ Harry continued. ‘Was given access via contacts and roundabout methods. Like me. He waited a bit before contacting you. Waited until the anger was out of you, until all the air was gone, until you were on the wheel rim, punctured. And then he picked you up. Gave you a job and gave you back some of the pride you had lost. And knew you would repay him with loyalty. He buys when the market is at the bottom, Kolkka. That’s how he gets his bodyguards.’
Harry turned to Jussi Kolkka. The Finn’s face was white.
‘You’re bought, but you’re hardly paid, Jussi. Slaves like you don’t gain respect, not from Massa Bellman and not from me. Christ, you don’t even have any self-respect, man.’
Kolkka’s fork fell to his plate with an almost deafening clatter. He got up, slipped his hand inside his jacket and pulled out a gun. He strode towards Harry and leaned over him. Harry didn’t budge, just calmly looked up.
‘So how are you going to find your respect again, Jussi? By shooting me?’
The Finn’s pupils were quivering with rage.
‘Or by working yourself to hell?’ Harry looked out at the snowy expanse again.