Ю Несбё - Macbeth

Low cough. The sound came from behind the low door on the landing. Duff walked down the five steps and turned the door knob. It moved a little, as though someone was holding on to it on the inside. He knocked.

No answer.

‘Hello? Hello, is anyone there?’

He held his breath and put his ear to the door. He heard something which sounded like the rustle of paper. Someone was hiding in there.

Duff went down the stairs with loud, heavy footsteps, took off his shoes on the floor below and tiptoed back.

He grabbed the door knob and gave it a sharp pull. Heard something go flying as the door swung open. A piece of string.

He stared at himself.

The picture wasn’t particularly big and positioned to the right at the bottom of the page underneath the headline.

The newspaper was lowered, and Duff stared into the face of an old man with a long, unkempt beard. He was sitting leaning forward with his trousers around his ankles.

A splash box. Duff had seen them before, in the old workers’ blocks of flats along the river. He assumed they got their name from the sound made when shit from the upper floors hit the container on the ground floor. Like a wet slap.

‘Sorry,’ Duff said. ‘Are you Alfie?’

The man didn’t answer, just stared at Duff. Then he slowly turned the page of the newspaper, looked at the photo and back up at Duff. Moistened his lips. ‘Louder,’ he said, pointing to his ear with one hand.

Duff raised his voice. ‘Are you Alfie?’

‘Louder.’

‘Alfie!’

‘Shh. Yes, he’s Alfie.’

Perhaps it was because of the shouting that Duff didn’t hear someone come. He just felt a hard object being pressed against the back of his head, and there was something vaguely familiar about the voice that whispered in his ear: ‘And yes, this is a gun, Inspector. So don’t move; just tell me how you found us and who sent you.’

Duff made to turn, but a hand pushed his face forward again, to face Alfie, who clearly regarded the situation as resolved and had resumed his reading.

‘I don’t know who you are,’ Duff said. ‘I found the impression of an address on a notepad in Banquo’s car. And no one sent me. I’m alone.’

‘Why have you come here?’

‘Because Macbeth’s trying to kill me. I’m fairly sure he had Banquo and Fleance killed. So if Banquo had an address he thought was a safe haven, it might be good for me too.’

A pause. For thought, it seemed.

‘Come with me.’

Duff was turned, but in such a way that the person with the gun was still behind him. Then he was prodded up the stairs to the door where he had rung the bell. It was now open, and he was pushed into a big room that smelled stale even though the windows were wide open. The room contained a large table with three chairs, a kitchen counter with a sink, a fridge, a narrow bed, a sofa and a mattress on the floor. And one other person. He was sitting on a chair with his forearms and hands on the table and staring straight at Duff. The glasses were the same, also the long legs protruding from under the table. But there was something different about him. Perhaps it was the beard. Or his face had become thinner.

‘Malcolm,’ Duff said. ‘You’re alive.’

‘Duff. Sit down.’

Duff sat down on the chair opposite the deputy chief commissioner.

Malcolm took off his glasses. Cleaned them. ‘So you thought I drowned myself after I took Duncan’s life, did you?’

‘At first I thought so. Until I realised that Macbeth was behind Duncan’s murder. Then I also realised that he had probably drowned you to clear his path to the chief commissioner’s office. And that the suicide letter was a forgery.’

‘Macbeth threatened to kill my daughter if I didn’t sign it. What do you want, Duff?’

‘He says—’ the voice behind Duff started.

‘I heard you,’ Malcolm interrupted. ‘And I see that the newspapers are making out that Macbeth is after you, Duff. But of course you could be working with him, and the scribblings are a plant so you can infiltrate us.’

‘Killing my family was a cover operation?’

‘I read about that too, but I don’t trust anything any longer, Duff. If Macbeth and the police really were so keen to catch you they would already have done so.’

‘I was lucky.’

‘And then you came here.’ Malcolm drummed his fingers on the table. ‘Why?’

‘Safe haven.’

‘Safe?’ Malcolm shook his head. ‘You’re a police officer, Duff, and you know that if you can find us that easily then so can Macbeth. A moderately intelligent wanted person sits tight. He doesn’t visit other people also on the wanted list. So give me a better answer. Why here?’

‘What do you think?’

‘Let me hear you say it. The gun’s pointing at where you have, or don’t have, a bleeding heart.’

Duff gulped. Why had he come here? It had been a lot to hope for. But it had also been the only hope he had. The odds had been poor, but the calculation simple. Duff took a deep breath.

‘Banquo was supposed to meet me to tell me something the night he died. And he was the last person to see you the day you disappeared. I thought there was a chance I might find you here. And we could help each other. I have proof Macbeth killed Duncan. Macbeth knows and that’s why he’s trying to kill me.’

Malcolm arched an eyebrow. ‘And how can we help each other? You don’t imagine the police here in Capitol can help us, do you?’

Duff shook his head. ‘They’ve been instructed to arrest us and send us back to Macbeth at once. But we can bring Macbeth down together.’

‘To avenge your family.’

‘Yes, that was my first thought.’

‘But?’

‘There’s something bigger than revenge.’

‘The chief commissioner’s job?’

‘No.’

‘What then?’

Duff nodded towards the open window. ‘Capitol is an elegant town, isn’t she? It’s difficult not to like her. To fall in love with her even — such a smiling blonde beauty with sunshine in her eyes. But you and I can never love her, can we? For we’ve given our hearts to the foul, rotten city up on the west coast. I’ve disowned her, thought she didn’t mean anything to me. Me and my career were more important than the town that has done nothing but darkened our moods, corrupted our hearts and shortened our lives. Absurd, wasted love, I thought. But that’s how it is. Too late we realise who we really love.’

‘And you’re willing to sacrifice yourself for a town like that?’

‘It’s easy.’ Duff smiled. ‘I’ve lost everything. There’s not much left to sacrifice other than my life. What about you, Malcolm?’

‘I have my daughter to lose.’

‘And you can only save her if we bring Macbeth down. Listen. You’re the man who can carry on Duncan’s work. And that’s why I’m here to follow you, if you’re willing to take over as chief commissioner and rule justly.’

Malcolm eyed him cautiously. ‘Me?’

‘Yes.’

Malcolm laughed. ‘Thank you for the moral support, Duff, but let me make a few things clear first.’

‘Yes?’

‘The first is I’ve never liked you.’

‘Understandable,’ Duff said. ‘I’ve never paid a thought to anyone else but myself. I’m not saying I’m a changed man, but what has happened has definitely given me new insights. I’m still not a clever man, but perhaps a little less stupid than I was.’

‘Possibly, although you may only be saying what you want me to hear. But what I don’t want to hear is any conversion nonsense. You might be slightly changed, but the world is the same.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I’m pleased you regard me as relatively decent. But if I’m going to have you as part of my team I have to know your angel wings don’t prevent you from keeping your feet on the ground. Surely you don’t think you can get to me without turning a blind eye to some things? Accepting some... established practices for who gets away with something and who doesn’t, and who gets the brown envelopes. If you take everything from a badly paid policeman overnight how are you going to get his loyalty? And isn’t it better to win a few small battles now and then rather than to insist on always losing the big ones?’