Jo Nesbo - Phantom

Harry coughed. This was not Oleg’s race.

‘If we’re to have a chance of saving Irene you have to help me find Dubai,’ Harry said.

Oleg looked at Harry. Tucked his hands under his thighs and fidgeted with his feet. The way he used to do. Then he nodded.

‘Start with the murder,’ Harry said. ‘Take all the time you need.’

Oleg closed his eyes for a few seconds. Then he opened them again.

‘I was high, I’d shot up violin by the river behind our place in Hausmanns gate. It was safer. If I had a fix in the flat and some of the others were desperate, they would jump on me to steal it. You understand?’

Harry nodded.

‘The first thing I saw, coming up the stairs, was the door to the office opposite. It had been broken into. Again. I didn’t think any more about it. I went into our sitting room and there was Gusto. And a man in a balaclava. He was pointing a gun at Gusto. And I don’t know if it was the dope or what talking, but I knew it wasn’t a robbery. Gusto was going to be killed. So I reacted instinctively. I threw myself at his gun hand. But I was too late and he managed to fire one shot. I fell to the ground and when I looked up again I was lying beside Gusto with a gun barrel at my head. The man didn’t say a word, and I was sure I was going to die.’ Oleg stopped, took a deep breath. ‘But it was as if he couldn’t make up his mind. Then he drew a finger across his throat to indicate what would happen if I blabbed.’

Harry nodded.

‘He repeated the message and I indicated that I understood. Then he left. Gusto was bleeding like a stuck pig, and I knew he needed help fast. But I didn’t dare move, I was sure the man with the gun was still standing outside because I hadn’t heard his steps on the stairs. And that if he saw me he might change his mind and shoot me after all.’

Oleg’s feet were pumping up and down.

‘I tried taking Gusto’s pulse, tried talking to him, said I would fetch help. But he didn’t answer. And then I couldn’t feel his pulse any more. And I couldn’t stand being there any longer. I fled.’ Oleg straightened up as though he had a pain in his back, folded his hands and put them behind his head. As he went on his voice became thicker. ‘I was high, I couldn’t think straight. I went down to the river. I thought about swimming. Perhaps I would be lucky and drown. Then I heard the sirens. And then they were there… And all I could think of was the finger across the throat. And that I had to keep my mouth shut. Because I know what they’re like, those people, I’ve heard them speaking about what they do.’

‘And what do they do?’

‘They go for where you’re most vulnerable. At first I was frightened for Mum.’

‘But it was simpler to take Irene,’ Harry said. ‘No one would react to a girl off the street disappearing for a while.’

Oleg looked at Harry. Swallowed. ‘So you believe me?’

Harry shrugged. ‘It’s easy to pull the wool over my eyes as far as you’re concerned, Oleg. I suppose that’s how it is when you’re… when you… you know.’

Tears came into Oleg’s eyes. ‘But… but it’s so utterly implausible. All the evidence…’

‘Things are falling into place,’ Harry said. ‘The residue on your arm you got when you threw yourself forward. His blood when you took his pulse. And that was when you left your fingerprints on him. The reason no one saw anyone else leave after the shooting is that the killer went into the office, out of the window and down the fire escape facing the river. That was why you didn’t hear any footsteps on the stairs.’

Oleg had fixed pensive eyes somewhere on Harry’s chest. ‘But why was Gusto killed? And who killed him?’

‘I don’t know. But I think he was killed by someone you know.’

‘Someone I know?’

‘Yes. That’s why he used gestures instead of speaking. So that you wouldn’t recognise his voice. And the balaclava suggests he was frightened others in the drugs world might recognise him as well. He could be someone most of you living there have seen before.’

‘But why did he spare me?’

‘No idea.’

‘I don’t understand it. They tried to kill me in prison later. Even though I hadn’t uttered a word.’

‘Perhaps the killer hadn’t been given detailed instructions about what to do with possible witnesses. He hesitated. On the one hand, you might recognise him by his shape, body language, gait if you’d seen him lots of times before. On the other, you were so high you probably weren’t taking in a great deal.’

‘Dope saves lives?’ Oleg said with a tentative smile.

‘Yes. Though his boss may not have agreed with his decision when he delivered the report afterwards. But by then it was too late. So to make sure you didn’t blab they kidnapped Irene.’

‘They knew I would keep my mouth shut for as long as they had Irene, so why kill me?’

‘I turned up,’ Harry said.

‘You?’

‘Yes. They knew I was here in Oslo from the second I landed. They knew I was the one who could make you talk. Having Irene wasn’t enough. So Dubai gave orders that you were to be silenced in prison.’

Oleg nodded slowly.

‘Tell me about Dubai,’ Harry said.

‘I’ve never met him. But I think I’ve been to his house once.’

‘And where’s that?’

‘I don’t know. Gusto and I were picked up by his lieutenants and driven to a house, but I was blindfolded.’

‘You know it was Dubai’s house, do you?’

‘That’s what Gusto told me. And it smelt occupied. Sounded like a house with furniture, carpets and curtains if you-’

‘I do. Go on.’

‘We were led into a cellar and that was when the blindfold was taken off. A dead man lay on the floor. They said that was what they did to people who tried to trick them. Have a good look, they said. Then we had to tell them what had happened at Alnabru. Why the door hadn’t been locked when the police arrived. And why Tutu had disappeared.’

‘Alnabru?’

‘I’m coming to that.’

‘OK. This man, how had he been killed?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Did he have stab wounds to the face? Or was he shot?’

‘Well, I didn’t know what he’d died of until Peter stepped on his stomach. Then water ran out of the corners of his mouth.’

Harry moistened his lips. ‘Do you know who the dead man was?’

‘Yes. An undercover cop who used to hang around where we were. We called him Beret Man because of the cap he wore.’

‘Mm.’

‘Harry?’

‘Yes?’

Oleg’s feet were drumming wildly on the concrete. ‘I don’t know much about Dubai. Not even Gusto would talk about him. But I do know that if you try to catch him you’ll die.’

The rat scrabbled around the floor impatiently. The human heart was beating, but it was getting fainter and fainter. She stopped by the shoe again. Bit into the leather. Soft but thick, solid leather. She ran over the body again. The clothes smelt of more than shoes, they smelt of sweat, food and blood. He — because she could smell it was a he — was lying in the same position, he hadn’t stirred, he was still blocking the entrance. She scratched at the man’s stomach. Knew it was the shortest route. Faint heartbeat. It wouldn’t be long now before she could begin.

It’s not that you have to stop living, Dad. But that you have to die to put an end to the shit. There should be a better way, don’t you think? A pain-free exodus into the light instead of this damned cold darkness that seems to close in on you. Someone should definitely have put a pinch of opiate into the Makarov bullets, should have done what I did for Rufus, the mangy dog, should have bought me a single ticket to Euphoria, bon voyage for Christ’s sake! But everything that’s good in this shit world is either on prescription, sold out or so expensive you have to flog your soul to taste it. Life is a restaurant you can’t afford. Death the bill for the food you didn’t even have the chance to eat. So you order the most expensive thing on the menu, you’re in for it anyway, right, and you might get a mouthful.