Jo Nesbo - Nemesis

'Potato dumpling,' Maja said, taking his plate and giving Harry a reproachful look. 'You haven't touched it.'

'Sorry,' Harry said. 'No appetite. Pay my respects to the chef and tell him it wasn't his fault. This time.'

Maja laughed out loud and headed for the kitchen.

'Maja…'

She turned round slowly. There was something in Harry's voice, in his intonation which presaged what was coming.

'Bring me a beer, would you?'

She continued towards the kitchen. It's none of my business, she thought. I just serve customers. Nothing to do with me.

'What's up, Maja?' the cook asked as she emptied the plate into the bin.

'It's not my life,' she said. 'It's his. The fool.'

The telephone in Beate's office gave a reedy squeak and she took the receiver. She heard the sound of voices, laughter and the clink of glasses. Then came the voice.

'Am I disturbing?'

For a second she was uncertain. His voice sounded alien. But it couldn't be anyone else. 'Harry?'

'What are you up to?'

'I…I'm checking the Net for clues. Harry-'

'So you've put the video of the Grensen bank job on the Net?'

'Yes, but you-'

'There are a couple of things I have to tell you, Beate. Arne Albu-'

'Fine, but listen to me now.'

'You sound a bit stressed, Beate.'

'I am!' Her shout crackled over the telephone. Then-calmer: 'They're after you, Harry. I tried to ring and warn you after they had left, but no one was at home.'

'What are you talking about?'

'Tom Waaler. He's got a warrant out on you.'

'Eh? Am I going to be arrested?'

Now Beate knew what was different about Harry's voice. He had been drinking. She gulped. 'Tell me where you are, Harry, and I'll come and get you. Then we can say you gave yourself up. I don't know what this is all about yet, but I'll help you, Harry. I promise. Harry? Don't do anything stupid, OK? Hello?'

She sat listening to voices, laughter and clinking glasses, then footsteps and a woman's hoarse voice: 'This is Maja at Schrшder's.'

'Where…?'

'He's gone.'

Vigdis Albu woke up to Gregor barking outside. the rain was drumming on the roof. She looked at her watch. Half past seven. She must have dropped off. The glass in front of her was empty, the house was empty, everything was empty. That wasn't how she had planned things.

She got up, went over to the patio door and watched Gregor. He was facing the gate with his ears and tail pointing directly upwards. What should she do? Give him away? Have him put to sleep? Not even the children had any strong feelings for this over-active, nervous creature. The plan, yes. She glanced at the half-empty gin bottle on the glass table. It was time to devise a new one.

Gregor's barking rent the air. Woof, woof! Arne had said he found the irritating noise reassuring; it gave you a vague sense that someone was alert. He said dogs could smell enemies because ill-wishers gave off a different scent from friends. She decided she would ring a vet tomorrow; she was sick of paying upkeep for a dog which barked every time she came into the room.

She inched open the patio door and listened. Through the baying of the dog and the rain she could hear the gravel crunching. She just managed to throw a brush through her hair and wipe away a streak of mascara under her left eye before the doorbell rang its three notes from Handel's Messiah, a house-warming present from her in-laws. She had an inkling who it might be. She was right. Almost.

'Constable?' she said, genuinely astonished. 'This is a nice surprise.'

The man on the step was soaked. Drops of water were hanging from his eyebrows. He leaned one arm against the door frame and looked at her without answering. Vigdis Albu opened the door completely and half-closed her eyes again: 'Won't you come in?'

She led the way and heard his shoes squelch behind her. She knew he liked what he saw. He sat down in an armchair without taking off his coat. She noticed the material darken as the water soaked in.

'Gin, Constable?'

'Got any Jim Beam?'

'No.'

'Gin's fine.'

She fetched the crystal glasses-a wedding present from the in-laws-and poured them both a drink. 'My condolences,' the policeman said, eyeing her with shiny, red eyes which told her this wasn't his first drink today.

'Thank you,' she said. 'Skеl.'

When she set down her glass she saw he had drunk half the contents of his. He sat fidgeting with it and suddenly said: 'I killed him.'

Vigdis instinctively put her hand to the necklace around her neck. The morning gift.

'I didn't want it to end like that,' he said. 'But I was stupid and careless. I led the murderers right to him.'

Vigdis pressed the glass to her mouth so he wouldn't see she was about to burst into laughter.

'So now you know,' he said.

'Now I know, Harry,' she whispered. She thought she saw a hint of surprise in his eyes.

'You've been talking to Tom Waaler.' It sounded more like a statement than a question.

'You mean the detective who thinks he's God's gift to…hm. I talked to him. Told him everything I knew, of course. Shouldn't I have done, Harry?'

He shrugged.

'Have I put you in a tight spot, Harry?' She had tucked her legs beneath her on the sofa and regarded him with a concerned expression from behind her glass.

He didn't answer.

'Another drink?'

He nodded. 'At least, I have one piece of good news for you.' He followed her hand carefully as she filled his glass. 'I received an e-mail this evening from someone confessing to the murder of Anna Bethsen. The person in question lured me into thinking it was Arne.'

'That's great,' she said. She spluttered gin onto the table. 'Oh dear, must be a bit too strong.'

'You don't seem exactly surprised.'

'Nothing surprises me any longer. To be honest, I didn't think Arne had the guts to kill anyone.'

Harry rubbed the back of his neck. 'Nevertheless. Now I have proof Anna Bethsen was murdered. I sent the confession to a colleague of mine before leaving home this evening. As well as all the other e-mails I've received. That means I've laid all my cards on the table as far as my own role is concerned. Anna was an ex-girlfriend of mine. My problem is that I was with her the evening she was killed. I should have turned down her invitation right away, but I was stupid and careless and thought I could solve the case on my own and at the same time make sure I wasn't dragged into it. I was…'

'Stupid and careless. You've said that.' She observed him pensively as he stroked the sofa cushion beside him. 'Of course, that explains a great deal. However, I still can't see why it should be a crime to spend time with a woman you would like to…spend time with. You had better explain yourself, Harry.'

'Well.' He gulped down the shiny liquor. 'I woke up the next day and couldn't remember a thing.'

'I see.' She rose from the sofa, went over to him and stood opposite him. 'Do you know who he is?'

He rested his head against the back of the sofa and looked up at her. 'Who said it's a "he"?' His words were slightly slurred.

She stretched out a slim hand. He shot her a quizzical look.

'The coat,' she said. 'Then go straight into the bathroom and take a hot bath. I'll make coffee and find some dry clothes for you in the meantime. I don't think he would have objected. He was a reasonable man in many ways.'

'I…'

'Come on. Now.'

The hot embrace sent shivers of pleasure running through him. The caresses continued up over his thighs to his hips and covered him in gooseflesh. He groaned. Then he lowered the rest of his body into the boiling water and leaned back.

He could hear the rain outside and listened to catch Vigdis Albu's movements, but she had put a record on. Police. Greatest Hits, to cap it all. He closed his eyes.