Jo Nesbo - Midnight Sun

‘He was one jab of the knife away from it.’

‘Because?’

‘Because I told him.’

‘What?’

‘That I want to get away from here. That I want to take Knut with me. That I never wanted to see him again.’

‘You didn’t want to see him again, either?’

‘I told him that I... I’m in love with someone else.’

‘Someone else.’

‘You, Ulf.’ She shook her head. ‘I can’t help it. I love you.’

The words trembled round the walls like a hymn. And the blue light in her eyes was so strong that I had to look away. One of her feet was in the spreading pool of blood.

I took a step towards her. Two. Put both feet in the blood. Gently put my hands round her shoulders. I wanted to check first that it was okay for me to pull her towards me. But before I figured it out she had fallen towards me and buried her face under my chin. She sobbed once, twice. I felt her warm tears trickling down under the collar of my shirt.

‘Come,’ I said.

I ushered her into the living room, where a lightning flash lit up the room and showed me the way to the sofa. We lay down on it, close together.

‘I got such a shock when he was suddenly standing there in the kitchen door,’ she whispered. ‘He said he’d got drunk on his boat with the engine running. When he woke up, he was a long way out to sea and the petrol had run out. He had oars, but the wind just kept driving the boat further out. The first few days he thought it was probably for the best. After all, we had made him think everything was his fault, that he was worthless after he hurt Knut. But then the rain came, and he survived. And then the wind changed direction. And that was when he decided it hadn’t been his fault.’ She let out a bitter laugh. ‘He stood there and said he was going to sort everything out, that he’d sort me and Knut out. When I told him Knut and I were going to leave, he asked if there was someone else. So I said we would be leaving on our own, but that, yes, I did love someone else. I thought it was important for him to know that. That I was capable of loving a man. Because then he would realise that he could never get me back.’

While she was talking the temperature in the room had fallen, and she huddled closer to me. So far nobody had come to see why the rifle had been fired. And as the next clap of thunder broke, I realised why. And that no one was going to come.

‘Is anyone else aware he came back?’ I asked.

‘I don’t think so,’ she said. ‘He saw some familiar landmarks this afternoon and rowed home. He tied the boat up at the jetty and came straight here.’

‘When was that?’

‘Half an hour ago.’

Half an hour ago. When everything was dark, and the thundery weather would have kept everyone indoors. No one had seen Hugo, no one knew he was alive. Had been alive. With the possible exception of one man who was fond of rolling about at night. To everyone else Hugo Eliassen was just a fisherman who had been claimed by the sea. One they were no longer searching for. I wished it was me. Me that they were no longer searching for. But, as Johnny had said: The Fisherman never stops looking for his debtors until he sees the corpse.

Another flash of lightning lit up the room. Then it was dark again. But I had seen it. Seen it perfectly clearly. Like I said, the brain is a strange and remarkable thing.

‘Lea?’ I said.

‘Yes?’ she whispered against my neck.

‘I think I’ve got a plan.’

Scorched-earth tactics.

That’s how I thought of my plan. I would retreat the way the Germans did. And then I would disappear. Disappear completely.

The first thing we did was wrap the body in plastic bags and tie them up with rope. Then we washed the floor and walls thoroughly. Dug the bullet out from the kitchen wall. Lea tipped the wheel rims out of the wheelbarrow and pushed it into the garage, where I was waiting with the body. I loaded it onto the barrow. Stuck the rifle in underneath him. We tied a rope to the front of the wheelbarrow so Lea could help pull it. I went into the workroom and found a small pair of pliers. Then we set off.

There wasn’t a single person around outside and it was still reassuringly gloomy. I reckoned it would be another three or four hours before people started to get up, but we had thrown a tarpaulin over the barrow just in case. It went easier than I had expected. When my arms were tired Lea would take a turn behind the barrow while I pulled it.

Knut had seen them pull up in a car with Oslo plates.

‘He came racing in and told me there were three men and two dogs,’ Lea said. ‘He wanted to run up and warn you, but I said it was too dangerous because of the dogs, they’d pick up his scent and maybe come after him as well. So I ran to Mattis and told him he had to help me.’

‘To Mattis?’

‘When you said he’d asked you for money for various services, I had a good idea of what those might be. He’d been paid not to contact Oslo and give you up.’

‘But how did you know he hadn’t already done that?’

‘Because it was Anita.’

‘Anita?’

‘She didn’t come to pass on her condolences. She came to find out if I had a good explanation for why I’d been sitting in a car with you. And I could see that my explanation wasn’t good enough. She knows I wouldn’t just go shopping in Alta with a stranger from the south. And I know what a woman scorned is capable of...’

Anita. No one makes a promise to Anita without keeping it .

She had a stake in my soul, Johnny’s phone number, and the sense to put two and two together. I had got whatever she was spreading after all.

‘But you trusted Mattis?’ I said.

‘Yes.’

‘He’s a liar and a blackmailer.’

‘And a cynical businessman who never gives you a drop more than you’ve paid for. But he sticks to agreements. And he also owed me a couple of favours. I asked him to lead them away from you, or at the very least to delay them, while I went up to the church to ring the bells.’

I told her how Mattis had sworn blind that he’d seen me leave Kåsund by boat. And how, when they still insisted on checking the cabin, he’d led them on a long detour. Without that detour they’d probably have arrived before the wind changed and I heard the church bells.

‘A strange man,’ I said.

‘A strange man,’ she laughed.

It took us an hour to get to the cabin. The weather had turned noticeably colder, but the clouds were still hanging low. I prayed it wasn’t about to rain. Not yet. I wondered if this business of praying was going to become a habit.

As we got closer I thought I saw some shapes disappear without a sound, racing up the ridge at great speed. The reindeer’s guts had been pulled apart, and the carcass was fully open.

They had conducted a thorough search for the money and dope, the mattress had been torn open, the wall cabinet pulled down, the stove opened and the ashes dug through. The last bottle of drink lay under the table, and the floorboards had been pulled up and the planks lining the walls torn off. Which suggested that the drugs hidden in Toralf’s flat weren’t going to be safe if they ever thought to look there. But that was fine, I wasn’t thinking of going to get them. I wasn’t actually planning to have anything to do with drugs from now on. For various reasons. Not many reasons, really, but those I had were all very good ones.

Lea waited outside while I cut the body free of the plastic. I put several layers of roofing felt on the bed before heaving the corpse onto it. I took his wedding ring off. Perhaps he’d lost weight while he was at sea, or perhaps it had always been a bit loose. I took off my chain with the ID dog tag and hung it round his neck. Then I felt around in my mouth with the tip of my tongue to check which tooth was broken, took out the pliers and fastened them round the matching tooth in his mouth, and snapped it off at the gum. I laid the rifle on his stomach and the misshapen bullet under his head. I glanced at my watch. Time was getting on.