Thomas Enger - Pierced

Henning refrains from saying anything for a while. He senses that Gronningen has started to open up.

‘It has been difficult to talk about Tore since he went to prison,’ he says. ‘Nobody really wants to, and in a way we’ve put it behind us. I’ve tried to find out where everyone was the night that Jocke Brolenius was killed, but people were either with each other or they were out of town.’

Henning nods. ‘But you knew that Tore was meeting Jocke Brolenius?’

‘Yes, several of us did. He came to the gym to work out before he drove up to the old factory.’

Henning picks up a jug on the table and fills his glass with water. He looks at Gronningen to see if he wants some and Gronningen holds out his glass without nodding.

‘Can you describe Tore to me?’ Henning asks as he pours the water. ‘I mean from a friend’s perspective?’

Gronningen sighs and starts to reminisce. Suddenly he breaks into a smile. ‘The first time I met Tore, he punched me in the face.’

‘Why?’ Henning asks, mirroring his smile.

‘Because I had just put Tore’s cousin in hospital for chatting up my girlfriend. Petter was only a boy then, so Tore had to step in. He broke my jaw.’

Gronningen touches his face and briefly strokes the beard that decorates his chin.

‘When I came to, he squatted down in front of me and said, “I look after my own. I just want you to remember that.”’

‘And from then on you were best mates?’ Henning asks in disbelief.

‘Well, not straight away. But he saw that I had what it took and that’s why he recruited me for-’

‘The enforcer business?’

‘Call it what you will. He put me up for the odd job here and there. In time, we grew to be best mates even though there were lots of contenders for that role.’

‘How come?’ Henning asks, and sips his water.

‘Tore was a popular guy. And he was feared as well. Being around Tore gave you a certain status. Everyone looked up to him. He got whatever he wanted. And I’m not just thinking of his job, but… other things.’

‘What things?’

‘One day we were watching some reality-TV show when Veronica appeared on the screen. And Tore said, “I want her!” And that’s what happened.’

Henning twirls the glass in his hands. ‘And did he get whatever he wanted in the property business, too?’

‘Yes, on the whole.’

‘Did he have any enemies in the property business?’

‘I’m sure he did, but I doubt if any of them would have gone to so much trouble to get rid of him. It would have been simpler just to have him killed.’

That sounds very reasonable, Henning thinks. Tore’s meeting with Jocke Brolenius was an internal affair which had nothing to do with his legitimate business activities.

‘I understand Tore met with some resistance when you discussed what to do about murder of Vidar Fjell?’

‘Not just some.’

‘Who shouted the loudest?’

Henning folds his hands and leans closer.

‘Irene Otnes. Vidar’s girlfriend. She made it clear that she wanted revenge, and there was no shortage of volunteers. Petter was one of them. But Tore put his foot down. All hell would have broken loose if we had picked a fight with a Swedish gang.’

‘Was anyone apart from Irene Otnes out for blood?’

‘We all were.’

‘I mean was anyone especially incensed and did they express their anger or disgust at Tore because he didn’t want revenge?’

Gronningen mulls over the question. ‘Robert.’

‘Who is he?’

‘Robert van Derksen. A martial-arts instructor. He was a good mate of Vidar’s, but Tore and Robert weren’t exactly best mates. Or they weren’t then.’

‘Why not?’

Gronningen breathes out. ‘One night, three or four years ago, we went to the opening of Order @ the Bar in the city centre. Veronica was there with some of her models. Free drinks. You know what these events are like.’

‘Robert helped himself — quite liberally you could say — and I’m not just talking about the drinks. It looked as if he thought the girls were free too. Tore didn’t like Robert pawing Veronica’s girls and told him to lay off — for all the good that did — and when, a little later, Tore took him outside to cool down, Robert tried to hit him. Tore saw the punch come a week in advance.’

Henning raises an eyebrow. ‘Didn’t you just say that van Derksen was a martial-arts instructor?’

‘Yes, but he was shit-faced that night. When he sobered up and heard what had happened he felt humiliated. Things between the two of them were never the same again.’

‘So Robert van Derksen had a motive for killing Jocke Brolenius and setting Tore Pulli up?’

‘Yes.’

‘But could he have broken Brolenius’s jaw? In the style of Pulli?’

‘Yes, definitely,’ Gronningen replies without hesitation before he adds, ‘It’s not that difficult. All it takes is a bit of practice.’

Henning decides to walk home from Akebergveien, an exercise usually conducive to thinking. And he has much to digest after his meetings with Veronica Nansen and Geir Gronningen, especially the information Gronningen gave him about Robert van Derksen. According to Gronningen, van Derksen claimed to be with a woman on the night that Brolenius was killed, although Gronningen was ashamed to admit that he had never double-checked his alibi. Van Derksen had a habit of replacing his women frequently, and Gronningen hadn’t been able to remember which particular woman he had been with at the time. ‘And I’m not sure that Robert would be able to remember either,’ was how he put it.

When Henning comes home he visits the bodybuilding website www.hardenever.no and finds a picture of Robert van Derksen showing off an oiled torso, a six-pack and rippling muscles in his arms and legs, posing in combat style. Henning reads about the courses he teaches: karate, tae kwon do and Krav Maga — and realises that he can’t simply turn up on van Derksen’s doorstep and ask if he murdered Jocke Brolenius. He could sign up for one of the courses and ask if van Derksen would teach him the Pulli punch, but such questions rely on familiarity and trust. And both take time — which Henning doesn’t have.

There must be another way, he thinks, and rings the contact number listed at the bottom of the screen.

‘Hi, my name is Henning Juul from the internet newspaper 123news. Am I speaking to Robert van Derksen?’

‘You are,’ van Derksen replies, sounding bored. His voice is lighter than Henning had expected, bordering on meek.

‘Sorry for disturbing you on a Sunday, but I’m working on a story about Tore Pulli. I understand that the two of you knew each other well?’

There is silence.

‘I’ve got nothing to say about Tore.’

‘You don’t need to say anything about Tore,’ Henning is quick to add, scared that van Derksen might hang up on him. ‘I’m more interested in the murder of Jocke Brolenius. I think there may have been a miscarriage of justice and that Tore might be innocent,’ Henning continues.

The seconds pass.

‘Why do you think that?’

Henning waits a few more moments before he replies: ‘Because certain things in the case against him don’t make sense. The murder weapon has never been found, for one. And if Tore really wanted to kill someone, I don’t think he would have left his calling card behind at the crime scene.’

Another silence.

‘What do you mean?’

‘The Pulli punch,’ Henning continues, feeling himself warming to his subject. ‘Brolenius’s fractured jaw. I think that someone with strong fists wanted it to look as if Tore killed Jocke Brolenius.’

Henning lets his words take effect. Many long seconds of silence follow.