Jo Nesbo - The Thirst

The waitress, on the other hand, lit up as if the prodigal son had just returned home. And served them a coffee that definitely wasn’t the reason why foreign visitors had recently started to count Oslo among the best cities in the world for coffee.

‘Sorry it didn’t work out with you and Bjørn,’ Harry said.

‘Yeah.’ Katrine didn’t know if he wanted her to elaborate. Or if she wanted to elaborate. So she just shrugged.

‘Yeah,’ Harry said, and raised his cup to his lips. ‘So what’s it like being single again?’

‘Curious about the single life?’

He laughed. And she realised she’d missed that laugh. She’d missed making him laugh, it felt like a reward every time she managed it.

‘Single life is fine,’ she said. ‘I’m seeing guys.’ She looked for a reaction. Was she hoping for a reaction?

‘Well, I hope Bjørn’s seeing people too, for his sake.’

She nodded. But she hadn’t really given it much thought. And, like an ironic comment, the cheery ping indicating a Tinder match rang out, and Katrine saw a woman dressed in desperation red hurry towards the door.

‘Why are you back, Harry? The last thing you said to me was that you were never going to work on another murder.’

Harry turned his coffee cup. ‘Bellman threatened to get Oleg thrown out of Police College.’

Katrine shook her head. ‘Bellman really is the biggest heap of shit on two legs since the Emperor Nero. He wants me to tell the press that this is an almost impossible case. To make him look better when we solve it.’

Harry looked at his watch. ‘Well, maybe Bellman’s right. A murderer who bites people with iron teeth and drinks half a litre of blood from the victim … This is probably more about the act of killing than who the victim is. And that instantly makes the case harder.’

Katrine nodded. The sun was shining on the street outside, but she still thought she could hear the rumble of thunder in the distance.

‘The pictures of Elise Hermansen from the crime scene,’ Harry said. ‘Did they remind you of anything?’

‘The bite marks on her neck? No.’

‘I don’t mean the details, I mean …’ Harry stared out of the window. ‘As a whole. Like when you hear music you’ve never heard before, by a group you don’t know, but you still know who wrote the track. Because there’s something there. Something you can’t put your finger on.’

Katrine looked at his profile. His brush of short hair was sticking up, as messily as before, but not quite as thick. His face had acquired some new lines, the wrinkles and furrows had deepened, and even if he had laughter lines around his eyes, the more brutal aspects of his appearance were more prominent. She had never understood why she thought he was so handsome.

‘No,’ she said, shaking her head.

‘OK.’

‘Harry?’

‘Mm?’

‘ Is Oleg the reason you came back?’

He turned and looked at her with one eyebrow raised. ‘Why do you ask that?’

And she felt it now as she had back then, the way that look could hit her like an electric shock, the way he – a man who could be so reserved, so distant – could bulldoze everything else aside just by looking at you for a second, and demand – and get – all of your attention. In that one second there was only one man in the whole world.

‘Never mind,’ she said, and laughed. ‘Why am I asking that? Let’s get going.’

‘Ewa with a “w”. Mum and Dad wanted me to be unique. Then it turned out to be really common in those old Iron bloc countries.’ She laughed and drank a sip of her beer. Then opened her mouth and used her forefinger and thumb to wipe the lipstick from the corners of her mouth.

‘Iron Curtain and Eastern bloc,’ the man said.

‘Huh?’ She looked at him. He was quite cute. Wasn’t he? Nicer than the ones she was usually matched with. There was probably something wrong with him, something that would show up later. There usually was. ‘You’re drinking slowly,’ she said.

‘You like red.’ The man nodded towards the coat she’d draped over her chair.

‘So does that vampire guy,’ Ewa said, pointing at the news bulletin on one of the enormous televisions in the bar. The football match had ended and the bar, which had been full five minutes ago, had started to empty. She could feel she was a bit tipsy, but not too much. ‘Did you read VG ? He drank her blood.’

‘Yes,’ the man said. ‘Do you know, she had her last drink a hundred metres down the road from here, at the Jealousy Bar?’

‘Is that true?’ She looked round. Most of the other customers seemed to be in groups or pairs. She had noticed one man who had been sitting on his own watching her, but he was gone now. And it wasn’t the Creep.

‘Yes, quite true. Another drink?’

‘Yes, I think I’d better,’ she said with a shiver. ‘Ugh!’

She gestured to the bartender, but he shook his head. The minute hand had just passed the magic boundary.

‘Looks like it’ll have to be another day,’ the man said.

‘Just when you’ve managed to terrify me,’ Ewa said. ‘You’ll have to walk me home now.’

‘Of course,’ the man said. ‘Tøyen, you said?’

‘Come on,’ she said, and buttoned her red coat over her red blouse.

She tottered slightly on the pavement outside, and felt him discreetly holding her up.

‘I had one of those stalkers,’ she said. ‘I call him the Creep. I met him one time, and we … well, we had quite a nice time. But when I didn’t want to take it any further, he got jealous. He started to show up in different places when I was out meeting other people.’

‘That must have been unpleasant.’

‘Yes. But it’s quite funny as well, being able to bewitch someone so that all they can think about is you.’

The man let her put her hand through his arm, and listened politely as she talked about other men she had bewitched.

‘I looked stunning, you see. So at first I wasn’t really surprised when he showed up, I just assumed he’d been following me. But then I realised that he couldn’t possibly have known where I’d be. And you know what?’ She stopped abruptly and swayed.

‘Er, no.’

‘Sometimes I had a feeling that he’d been inside my flat. You know, your brain registers how people smell and recognises them even when you’re not consciously aware of it.’

‘Sure.’

‘What if he’s this vampire?’

‘That would be quite a coincidence. Is this where you live?’

She looked up in surprise at the building in front of her. ‘It is. Goodness, that was quick.’

‘As they say, time flies when you’re in good company, Ewa. Well, this is where I say—’

‘Can’t you come up for a bit? I think I’ve got a bottle tucked away in the cupboard.’

‘I think we’ve both had enough …’

‘Just to make sure he isn’t there. Please.’

‘That’s really not very likely.’

‘Look, the light’s on in the kitchen,’ she said, pointing at one of the first-floor windows. ‘I’m sure I switched it off before I left!’

‘Are you?’ the man said, stifling a yawn.

‘Don’t you believe me?’

‘Look, I’m sorry, but I really do need to get home and go to bed.’

She stared at him coldly. ‘What’s happened to all the real gentlemen?’

He smiled tentatively. ‘Er … maybe they all went home to bed?’

‘Ha! You’re married, you succumbed to temptation, and now you regret it, is that it?’

The man looked at her thoughtfully. As if he felt sorry for her.

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘That’s it. Sleep well.’

She unlocked the front door. Went up the stairs to the first floor. Listened. She couldn’t hear anything. She didn’t know if she’d turned the kitchen light off, it was just something she’d said to get him to come with her. But now that she’d said it, it was as if she’d talked it up. Maybe the Creep really was in there.