Jo Nesbo - The Son

Simon waited for the boy’s pupils to expand in shock, for black to displace the bright green iris. But it didn’t happen. And he understood.

‘You knew, Sonny.’ Simon tried to swallow, but had to cough again. ‘You knew it was me. How?’

Sonny wiped the blood from Simon’s mouth with his shirtsleeve. ‘Arild Franck.’

‘Franck?’

‘After I cut off his finger, he started talking.’

‘Talking? He knew nothing about me. No one knew that Ab and I were the moles, Sonny, no one.’

‘No, but Franck told me what he did know. That the mole had a code name.’

‘He told you that?’

‘Yes. The code name was the Diver.’

‘The Diver, yes. That was the name I used when I contacted the Twin. Back then one person used to call me that, you see. Just one person. So how did you know. .?’

Sonny took something out of his jacket pocket. Held it up in front of Simon. It was a photograph. It had dried specks of blood on it and showed two men and a woman by a cairn, all three of them young and laughing.

‘When I was a boy I’d often look through our photo album and that was where I saw this picture taken in the mountains. And I asked my mother who he was, this mysterious photographer with the exciting nickname, the Diver. And she told me. That it was Simon, the third of three best friends. That she had nicknamed him the Diver, because he dived in where no one else dared.’

‘So you put two and two-’

‘Franck didn’t know there were two moles. But what he did tell me made everything add up. That my father was about to expose you. So you killed him before he could do it.’

Simon blinked, but the darkness continued to creep in from the outer edges of his field of vision. Even so, he could see more clearly than ever. ‘So you decided to kill me. That was why you contacted me. You wanted to be sure that I would find you. You were just waiting for me.’

‘Yes,’ Sonny said. ‘Right until I found the diary and understood that my father was in on it. That there were two of you. Two traitors.’

‘Then your world fell apart and you abandoned your mission. There was no longer any reason to kill.’

Sonny nodded.

‘So what made you change your mind?’

Sonny looked at him for a long time. ‘Something you said. That a son’s responsibility isn’t to be like his father, but to be. .’

‘. . better than him.’ Simon could hear police sirens in the distance. He felt Sonny’s hand on his forehead. ‘So be that, Sonny. Be better than your father.’

‘Simon?’

‘Yes?’

‘You’re dying. Is there anything you want?’

‘I want to give her the gift of sight.’

‘And forgiveness, do you want that?’

Simon closed his eyes again, hard, and shook his head. ‘I can’t. . I don’t deserve it.’

‘None of us does. To err is human, to forgive is divine.’

‘But I’m nothing to you, I’m a stranger who took away the people you loved.’

‘You are someone, you’re the Diver, who was always with them, but you weren’t in the picture.’ The boy lifted up Simon’s jacket and slipped the photograph into his inside pocket. ‘Take it with you on your journey, they’re your friends.’

Simon closed his eyes. He thought: That’s all right with me.

The son’s words echoed in the space of the empty church:

‘All earthly and heavenly gods have mercy on you and forgive your sins. .’

Simon looked at a drop of blood that had just dripped from inside the boy’s jacket and onto the church floor. He moved a finger down to the drop’s golden-red surface. Saw how the blood seemed to stick to his fingertip; he raised the finger to his lips and closed his eyes. Stared into the foaming, white waterfall. The water. An icy embrace. Silence, solitude. And peace. And this time he wouldn’t resurface.

In the silence that followed the second playing of the recording, Kari could hear birds chirping undisturbed outside the half-open window at the far end of the steak restaurant.

The Commissioner stared at the laptop in disbelief.

‘Yes?’ Ohre asked.

‘Yes,’ Parr said.

The lawyer pulled out the memory stick and handed it to Parr. ‘Did you recognise that voice?’

‘Yes,’ Parr said. ‘His name is Arild Franck, and he’s the man who really runs Staten Maximum Security Prison. Adel, check if that account he mentions in the Cayman Islands really exists, will you? If what he says is true, we’re facing a huge scandal.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ Ohre said.

‘Not at all,’ Parr said. ‘I’ve had my suspicions for years. We were recently given information by a courageous police officer in Drammen which suggested that Lofthus was granted day release from Staten so that he could take the fall for the Morsand murder. We’ve been keeping this to ourselves until we were sure we had a solid case before we went after Franck, but with this we ought to have more than enough ammunition. One last thing before we go. .’

‘Yes?’

‘Did Chief Inspector Kefas say why he wanted you to meet with us, rather than meet you himself?’

Iversen exchanged glances with Ohre before he shrugged. ‘He said he was busy with other things. And that you were the only two colleagues he trusted one hundred per cent.’

‘I understand,’ Parr said and got up to leave.

‘There is one more thing. .’ Ohre said and picked up his phone. ‘My client mentioned my name to Chief Inspector Kefas who contacted me to ask if I could organise transport and the payment for an eye operation he has arranged at the Howell Clinic in Baltimore tomorrow. I said I would. And I have a message from our receptionist who informs me that a woman arrived at our office an hour ago and handed over a red sports bag. The bag contains a considerable amount of cash. I just want to know if this is something the police would like to follow up?’

Kari was aware that the birdsong outside the window had stopped and been replaced by distant sirens. Several of them. Police cars.

Parr cleared his throat. ‘I don’t see how this information could be relevant to the police. And since the person who made the request must now be regarded as your client, then you have, as far as I’m concerned, attorney-client privilege and you would be unable to give me any more information were I to ask.’

‘Excellent. Then we have the same understanding of the situation,’ Ohre said and closed his briefcase.

Kari felt her mobile vibrate in her pocket, got up quickly, stepped away from the table and took out the phone. The marble came out with the phone and hit the wooden floor with a soft thud.

‘Adel.’

She stared at the marble which seemed to hesitate, not knowing whether to move or stay where it was. But after a little quivering, it wobbled unsteadily in a southern direction.

‘Thank you,’ Kari said and put the phone back in her pocket. She turned to Parr who was about to get up. ‘There are four dead bodies at a fish restaurant called Nautilus.’

Parr blinked four times behind his glasses and Kari wondered whether it was some kind of compulsive reaction, to blink once for every new body on his patch.

‘Where is that?’

‘Here.’

‘Here?’

‘Here on Aker Brygge. It’s just a couple of hundred metres away.’ Kari’s eyes had found the marble again.

‘Let’s go.’

She wanted to run over and pick up the marble.

‘What are you waiting for, Adel? Come on!’

The marble had acquired a steady course and was gaining speed; if she didn’t make up her mind quickly, she would lose it.

‘OK,’ she said and rushed after Parr. The police sirens were louder now, the noise rose and sank, cut through the air like a scythe.