Ю Несбё - The Kingdom

‘Damn him!’

‘People are worried about their money. Even the board members are muttering about getting out while the going’s good. The meeting this evening could be the beginning of the end, Roy.’

‘What do you intend to do?’

‘I’ve got to somehow try to turn the mood around. But after that thunderous oration Aas gave at Willumsen’s funeral, and what Dan wrote, and what he’s been spreading through the village, I’m not exactly wading in confidence right now.’

‘People here know you,’ I said. ‘In the final analysis that’s more important than what some newcomer of a hack journalist scribbles and babbles about. And they’ll have forgotten what Aas said once they see you standing tall again. When they realise the guy from Opgard doesn’t give up, not even when he’s been down for the count.’

Carl looked at me. ‘D’you think so?’

I gave him a punch on the shoulder. ‘You know what they say. Everybody loves a comeback kid . Anyway, the really rough work and the costliest investments on the site are behind you now, all that’s left is the actual building. It would be idiotic to give up now. You can do this, brother.’

Carl rested a hand on my shoulder. ‘Thanks, Roy. Thanks for believing in me.’

‘The problem is getting everyone to agree to Shannon’s original drawings. The council probably still wants trolls and timber. You need to get the investors to sanction the extra cost of the more expensive materials and solutions Shannon wants to use.’

Carl straightened up. It looked as if I’d pumped a little optimism back into him. ‘Shannon and I have been thinking about that. The problem when we showed the drawings at the first investors’ meeting was that we hadn’t done enough work on the visual aspect of the presentation, it looked too sad and bleak. Shannon’s done some drawings and sketches with completely different lighting using completely different perspectives. The biggest difference is that these are in a summer landscape, not winter. The previous time, all the concrete merged into a monotonous, colourless winter landscape, the hotel looked like an extension of the winter people round here hate, right? Now we’ve got a colourful landscape that borrows light and colour from the concrete, the hotel stands out against the background, it doesn’t look like a bunker trying to disappear into the landscape.

‘ Same shit, new wrapping? ’ I said in English.

‘And not a soul will realise that’s what it is. I promise you, they’re going to be beside themselves in their enthusiasm.’ He was back in the saddle now, sunlight flashing off his white teeth.

‘Like natives being offered glass beads.’ I smiled too.

‘The pearls are real enough, only this time we’re giving them a little polish before we offer them.’

‘That’s honest enough,’ I said.

‘Honest enough.’

‘One simply does what one must do.’

‘One does,’ said Carl. He turned his gaze to the west.

I heard him take a breath. Shrink a little. Had he fallen off his horse again?

‘Even when you know it’s very, very wrong,’ said Carl.

‘True enough,’ I said, though I knew he was talking about something else now. My eyes followed the tracks to where Shannon had vanished.

‘And yet still we go on doing it,’ he said slowly and with his new, clearer diction. ‘Day after day. Night after night. Committing the same sin.’

I held my breath. Of course he could well be talking about Dad. Or about himself and Mari. But unless I was mistaken, this was about Shannon. Shannon and me.

‘For example…’ said Carl. His voice was tight, and he swallowed hard. I steeled myself. ‘Like when Kurt Olsen stood there looking down into Huken for the Jaguar. And I freaked out and thought here we go again, now we’re going to be exposed. Exactly the same as when his father stood in the same place and looked down to see if the wheels of the Cadillac had punctures.’

I didn’t respond.

‘But that time you weren’t there to stop me. I pushed Sigmund Olsen over, Roy.’

My mouth was as dry as a bloody rusk, but at least I was breathing again.

‘But you knew that all along,’ he said.

I kept my gaze fastened on the ski tracks. Moved my head slightly. Nodded.

‘So why did you never let me tell you?’

I shrugged.

‘You didn’t want to be made an accomplice to a murder,’ he said.

‘You think I’m afraid of that?’ I said with a twisted smile.

‘Willumsen and his enforcer are something else,’ said Carl. ‘This was an innocent sheriff.’

‘You must have pushed him hard – he landed a long way out from the vertical.’

‘I made him fly.’ Carl closed his eyes, maybe the sunlight was too strong. Then he opened them again. ‘You already knew when I called you at the workshop, that it wasn’t an accident. But you didn’t ask. Because it’s always easier that way. To pretend that ugliness doesn’t exist. Like when Dad came into our room at night and—’

‘Shut up!’

Carl shut up. Rapid wingbeats. Sounded like the same bird on its way back.

‘I don’t want to know, Carl. I wanted to believe you were more of a human being than me. That you weren’t capable of killing in cold blood. But you’re still my brother. And when you pushed him, maybe you rescued me from being accused of the murder of Mum and Dad.’

Carl made a face. He put his sunglasses back on and tossed the orange peel into the snow.

‘ Everybody loves a comeback kid. Do people say that, or is that just something you made up?’

I didn’t answer, looked at my watch instead. ‘They’re having problems with the stocktaking at the station and asked if I could help out. See you at Årtun at seven.’

‘But you’ll be spending the night with us?’

‘Thanks, but I’ll be driving straight home after the meeting. Got to be at work early tomorrow morning.’

Despite the fact that only the participants had a vote, the meeting at Årtun was advertised as being open to all. I had arrived early, taken a seat on the back row and watched as the hall gradually filled. But whereas there had been an atmosphere of excited anticipation at the first meeting eighteen months earlier, the mood this time was very different. Dark, sombre. A lynching mood, as people say. Everyone was there by the time the meeting began. On the front row Jo and Mari Aas sitting next to Voss Gilbert. A few rows behind them, Stanley next to Dan Krane. Grete Smitt was sitting next to Simon Nergard, leaning into him and whispering something in his ear, God knows when the two of them had become such friends. Anton Moe was there with his wife. Julie and Alex. Markus had taken time off from the station – I noticed him exchanging glances with Rita Willumsen sitting two rows behind him. Erik Nerell and his wife were next to Kurt Olsen, but when Erik tried to start a conversation it was obvious Kurt wasn’t in the mood for it, and Erik probably regretted sitting there but could hardly get up and move now.

At precisely seven o’clock Carl stepped out onto the stage. The room fell silent. Carl looked up. And I didn’t like what I saw. Now, when it was so important for him to be at his very best, to turn that tide of negativity, to part the waters like a Moses, he seemed overwhelmed by the gravity of the occasion. He seemed tired even before he started.

‘Fellow inhabitants of Os,’ he began. His voice sounded impotent, his gaze flitting about from place to place as though seeking eye contact but being rejected everywhere. ‘We are a mountain people. We live in a place where life has traditionally been hard. Where we have had to fend for ourselves.’

I’m guessing it was a pretty unusual way to open a partners’ meeting, but then most of those in the room probably didn’t know any more than me about the rituals involved in partners’ meetings.