‘She told me that you’ve been trying to find out who-’
‘Are you out of your mind?’ Gronningen hisses and looks daggers at him before quickly glancing around. ‘You can’t just come in here and-’
‘Why not?’ Henning says as frown lines appear on his brow. ‘We’re just having a chat.’
‘You don’t understand,’ the big man says. ‘Get out before anyone sees you.’
‘You’re quite right,’ Henning says, feigning ignorance. ‘I don’t understand.’
Gronningen gives him a look of exasperation. Neither of them says anything for a while, but Henning refuses to release Gronningen’s eyes. Finally, Gronningen gives in. ‘Do you know where Jarlen, the restaurant, is?’
‘No, but I can find out.’
‘Wait there and I’ll have a chat with you later.’
‘Okay. When?’
Gronningen rolls his eyes before he faces Henning again. ‘When I’m done here. I can’t cut my workout short just because you turned up.’
‘So give me a time.’
Gronningen glances surreptitiously around again. Then, without looking at Henning, he says, ‘Give me a couple of hours.’
‘A couple of hours it is.’
Henning looks at the clock on the wall behind the reception counter, nods to Gronningen and climbs off the exercise bike. On his way to the exit he smiles at the girl behind the counter and gives her a thumbs-up before he walks outside and back into the heat.
Chapter 15
Thorleif Brenden wakes up with a start and looks around. There is light all around him. From an open window that overlooks the courtyard the sound of children shouting enters and exacerbates his headache.
He gets up and goes to the kitchen. Then he fills a glass with cold water and swallows the contents with rapid gulps. He groans with satisfaction. The next moment the door is flung open as if Kramer from Seinfeld himself is about to make an entrance. But it is only Julie with Elisabeth at her heels.
‘Hi, Daddy! I need the loo.’
‘Okay, sweetheart,’ he smiles and looks at Elisabeth. ‘Remember to close the door behind you.’
‘Okay,’ Julie replies.
‘And afterwards you must tell Daddy what you’ve just learned, promise?’ Elisabeth calls out after her daughter.
‘Yesss!’
Elisabeth smiles and looks at him tenderly. ‘Hi,’ she says in a soft and affectionate voice. ‘Did you have a good sleep?’
Thorleif shakes his head and refills his glass.
‘You certainly look as if you have.’
‘How can you tell?’ he asks her.
‘Your eyes are swollen. As if they’ve relaxed properly for once.’
‘It’s probably just an allergic reaction.’
‘Oh, you poor thing. You shouldn’t have joined us on that horse-and-cart ride. Have you taken your medication? Do you feel better for it?’
‘A bit, perhaps.’
Elisabeth strokes his cheeks and gazes at him as if he were a baby. Then she kicks off her shoes. He can hear Julie singing happily through the open bathroom door.
‘Are you going to fix the alarm today?’
‘What?’
‘The burglar alarm. We must get someone in to take a look at it.’
‘Oh, right.’
Thorleif had already forgotten that the alarm had, unexpectedly, not been working when they came back from Bogstad Farm.
‘Daddy,’ Julie shouts as she comes storming out of the bathroom. ‘Do you know what?’
‘No.’
‘I’ve learned to ride my bicycle!’
Her sense of triumph is written large across her face.
‘Really?’
Julie nods, bursting with pride.
‘Do you want to see, Daddy? Do you want me to show you?’
Thorleif looks at Elisabeth. Julie’s parents are bursting with pride, too.
‘Of course I want you to show me, sweetheart. Hang on, let me just put my shoes on.’
Chapter 16
Henning walks across the golden brown floor of Jarlen. A wall painted red at the top and white at the bottom welcomes him to the restaurant. The wall sconces look like hats someone thought it would be amusing to turn upside down. There are white tablecloths and napkins on the tables but hardly any customers eating at them.
Henning picks a table in the middle of the room, orders Danish-style beefburger with potatoes, vegetables and pickled beetroot for no other reason than he likes Denmark and the Danes. While he waits for his food, he looks out of the window at the five-metre-high wall across the road.
Oslo Prison.
He is somewhere inside it, Henning thinks, the man with information about the fire. The time when he meets Tore Pulli face to face can’t come soon enough.
Henning is still feeling uncomfortably full after his meal when Geir Gronningen shows up, two hours and fifteen minutes after their brief chat at Fighting Fit. He has showered and is wearing tight leather trousers and a white T-shirt which strains over his belly. His steps are measured and decisive, and his arms hang well away from his upper body as if something has been stuffed under his armpits. His long hair falls loosely over his shoulders, but his hairline has retreated high up his forehead and has made room for deep frown lines.
Henning gets up when Gronningen appears. ‘I don’t think we managed to introduce ourselves properly earlier,’ he says and holds out his hand. ‘Henning Juul.’
Gronningen shakes his hand reluctantly. ‘You’ve got a nerve,’ he says as he sits down.
‘Why is that?’
‘Walking straight into the gym and talking to me about what I-’
Gronningen breaks off, looks around, but all he sees is a noisy family with children at a table further away.
‘You’re lucky no one saw you,’ he continues.
‘I am or you are?’
Gronningen doesn’t reply.
‘So no one knows that you’re trying to find out who set Tore up?’
Gronningen looks at Henning. His lips form the beginning of an answer, but Henning sees that he opts for an alternative reply. ‘Turning up at the gym and asking questions about people isn’t very smart,’ he says archly. ‘People might think you’re trying to fit them up.’
‘And they’ve developed this paranoia because they’ve been law-abiding citizens all their lives?’
‘You know what I mean.’
‘I think so. But I wanted to talk to you because Veronica said that you’ve tried to help Tore while he has
