Литагент HarperCollins - The Complete Game Trilogy - Game, Buzz, Bubble

In the hall the answer phone was flashing to indicate another missed call. Number withheld, same as usual.

Henke had already made himself at home on the sofa in the living room.

‘Got any coffee?’

She resisted, with some effort, a sudden urge to grab the nearest heavy object and smash his skull in. Fucking bloody idiot, creeping up on her like that! She didn’t even know he knew where she lived. When she’d been out searching half the city for him, and here he was all of a sudden, sitting on her sofa.

And what on earth did he look like?

Even more strung out than last time, with great bags under his eyes and nicotine yellow skin. Fingernails chewed almost to the quick, his hair all over the place, and utterly filthy too.

A smell of ingrained smoke and unwashed male wafted up from her sofa, making her wrinkle her nose.

He was looking at her quizzically and she realized she hadn’t answered his question.

‘Sure,’ she snapped and went out into the kitchen.

‘You can clean yourself up in the meantime, the bathroom’s off the hall,’ she called from the kitchen as she sorted out the machine.

But when she came back a few minutes later with a tray of coffee, he was asleep.

She sighed, poured herself a cup and decided, after a bit of thought, to let him sleep. He looked like he could do with it.

A surprising feeling of tenderness came over her and she couldn’t help giving his cheek a quick stroke. He was still her little brother, after all, her little Henke. Okay, so he was an immature idiot and a first-rate trouble-magnet, but that hadn’t always been the case. Once it had been the two of them against the world. And through all the shit, they had always had each other.

But that was a long time ago. Things changed, whether you liked it or not.

She drank the last of the cup, leaned her head back against the sofa and closed her eyes.

She had realized from the noise he was making in the hall when he got in. The way he slammed the front door, the way he jangled his keys as he kicked off his shoes. She tried to warn Henke but he had his back to her, sitting on one of the folding chairs out on the balcony, smoking. Henke and Dag sometimes used to share a cig out there, even though Dag claimed he’d given up. Smoking didn’t fit in with his exercise regime and all that crap. Yet he still hung about out there all the time, leaning over the railing, and not just when Henke was visiting. From the balcony he could keep an eye on the backyard, as well as the carpark where the BMW was.

On good days they got on pretty well, Dag and Henke. They could stand out there chatting, almost like they were friends. She liked days like that, they made her feel as if she had a proper family.

But this definitely wasn’t going to be one of those days, she’d realized that the moment the front door slammed shut.

‘Hello!’

His voice was ice-cold, almost emotionless, but she had no difficulty picking up the anger bubbling beneath it.

‘Is everything okay?’ she said as quietly and calmly as she could.

He just snorted in reply.

‘Is there any food?’

‘Fish gratin, it’s in the oven. Henke and I have already eaten.’

Another snort. This didn’t bode well, she knew from experience. At a guess, something had gone wrong at work, a troublesome customer, an order that had got lost, or his boss stirring things up. It didn’t usually take very much.

‘So how long is your useless brother going to exploit my hospitality this time?’ he muttered through gritted teeth a bit later, nodding towards Henke, who was still out on the balcony.

‘Just a couple of days,’ she said as neutrally as she could. ‘Things are a bit tricky at home with Mum and everything. He needed to get away for a couple of days.’

A third snort, this time more scornful.

‘A bit tricky …’ he muttered as he shovelled a spoonful of the gratin into his mouth. ‘Your mother’s just a pathetic alcoholic,’ he declared between chews. ‘Get her into a home so you can have a bit of peace and quiet, then we won’t have that little crook hanging about round here all the time.’

She was on her way to getting angry and he saw it. A happy grin spread over his face.

‘Oh, so you’re cross I said something nasty about poor, innocent little Henke?’ he added in that patronizing childish voice she hated. He’d gone straight for her weak point and she had to make an effort not to rise to the bait.

‘Henke’s just been a bit unlucky,’ she said with forced calm. ‘He hasn’t always had it so easy, and besides, he’s my little brother.’

‘Easy?’ Dag had suddenly gone red in the face, and he flew up from his chair.

This was the row he had been looking for ever since he opened the door, and now he was getting what he wanted.

‘You talk about easy, but what fucking problems has your worthless brother ever had, eh? My dad wasn’t exactly a saint either. He used to beat the crap out of me every other day until I learned to hit back. The bastard walked out when I was fifteen, but look at me!’ He gestured towards his chest with his thumb. ‘I didn’t end up a fucking criminal! I’ve worked since I was sixteen, hauled my way up the ladder, paid my taxes and looked after myself, and for what? So I can support someone like him?’

His mouth was spraying little bits of saliva and food, but he didn’t seem to notice.

‘What’s up?’

Henke was peering in from the balcony. She tried to signal to him to take it easy, not provoke Dag, just let him burn himself out, then everything would calm down. But he didn’t seem to get it. Anyway, Dag wasn’t about to let him get away lightly this time.

‘Well, your sister and I were just discussing if it wouldn’t make sense to put your alcoholic mother in a home so we didn’t have to put up with you coming round here every five minutes.’

His tone of voice was so arrogant and provocative that she already had an idea of what was going on. She made another attempt to catch Henke’s eye and make him understand. Stop him from rising to the challenge that had been thrown in his face. But he didn’t seem to get it, or else he was simply ignoring her.

‘Really, Dagge?’ he said mockingly instead, emphasizing the nickname that he knew Dag hated. ‘Wouldn’t it make sense for us to bury her in the same patch of forest as your “missing” dad? That way we could keep all the violence in the family. I mean, you’re pretty good at that!’

Dag threw himself across the table and Henke didn’t have time to take more than a couple of steps back before Dag was on him. He tried to resist, but his opponent was considerably larger and much more aggressive. After just a few seconds Henke was on the floor, curled up with his hands over his face to protect himself. But Dag was on top of him, wrapping his arm round Henke’s neck and dragging him upwards. Rebecca could see Henke’s face turning white.

‘Stop it, Dag!’ she cried. ‘Stop, for fuck’s sake, you’re strangling him!’

She tried to loosen the arm round Henke’s neck.

The blow came out of nowhere, he must have let go of Henke with the other hand because she was suddenly flying backwards across the little kitchen table.

‘You little bitch!’ she heard him roar as her back hit the floor. Cutlery, plates and food everywhere. Her cheek was burning, her face felt numb and she was seeing stars.

Somewhere far away she heard Henke whimper and she tried to get to her feet.

For some reason the door had opened, unless Henke had never closed it, because all of a sudden the fight had moved out onto the balcony. Dag had got a fresh grip of Henke’s head and she could see that her little brother was almost finished. His legs suddenly went limp and he stopped struggling, but Dag didn’t seem to have noticed.