‘Hello,’ Henning says, sheepishly.
‘Hello,’ Iver and Nora reply in unison.
‘How are you?’ Henning asks him.
‘Good, I think. Or good enough.’
Iver’s voice is slow and feeble. His lips curl into a thin, crinkled smile. Henning looks around for a spare chair, but finds none. His eyes stop at a vase with fresh, long-stemmed flowers on the table.
‘I think I’ll go and get myself a cup of coffee,’ Nora says, standing up. ‘Would anyone else like one?’
‘No, thank you,’ Henning says, shaking his head.
Nora looks at Iver.
‘I don’t think I’m allowed to drink coffee yet,’ he says.
Nora nods. Henning waits until she has closed the door behind her before he approaches Iver’s bed.
‘I should have brought something, but… ’
His sentence hangs in the air.
‘What would that be? Flowers?’ Iver’s lips stretch again. They look as if they might tear open at any moment. ‘Sit down, would you please? I get stressed when people stand.’
‘Oh, yes, sorry, I forgot.’
‘Don’t worry about it.’
Henning smiles. ‘Christ, you look Swedish,’ he says as he sits down on the chair. The seat is still warm.
‘Why?’
‘Your face is blue and yellow.’
‘Ah.’
Iver’s lips crack into a smile again. A bad time to make jokes, Henning thinks. The silence starts to stick to the walls. Henning looks at Iver in the knowledge that he looked very much like him almost two years ago. But with one crucial difference. The chair by his bed wasn’t warm.
‘Do you remember anything that happened?’ Henning asks in an attempt to shake off the memory.
‘I remember being lifted up as if I weighed nothing at all, and then there was a bang.’
‘Did you see who it was?’
‘No, but he was strong. I wanted to wriggle free, but I never got the chance.’
Iver manoeuvres one arm towards a cable that lies across his stomach, lifts up a handset and presses the button marked ‘up’. The bed starts to hum, and slowly he is raised to a sitting position. Henning takes out his mobile. ‘Do you recognise this T-shirt?’ he says, turning the display to Iver. Iver tries to focus.
‘I don’t know. It happened so quickly.’
Henning nods and puts the mobile back in his pocket.
‘I think the man who beat you up was Petter Holte,’ he says.
‘Pulli’s cousin?’
‘Yes.’
‘Why?’
‘I don’t know. But Petter is or was an enforcer once. He also works as a doorman at Asgard.’
Iver nods. So far so good.
‘Did you know that he went to prison?’ Iver says, trying to make himself more comfortable.
‘No,’ Henning replies, surprised. ‘What for?’
‘Last year on International Women’s Day there was a demonstration outside Asgard. Petter was a bit heavy-handed with one of the feminists. Got a couple of months inside for it.’
‘Really? Did he serve his sentence at Botsen?’
‘Yes.’
‘Do you know if he was in contact with his cousin while he was inside?’
‘That I don’t know. There are hundreds of cells there, but they probably met in the yard. I believe inmates are entitled to one hour of fresh air every day.’
Henning nods. If Holte and Pulli were in prison at the same time, something could have gone down between them.
‘The doctor has probably told you to take it easy,’ Henning says. ‘So I don’t suppose we should be talking shop.’
‘That’s just something they say in the movies, Sherlock.’
Henning grins. ‘Has the doctor said anything about how long you will be in here?’
‘No, but I think it’ll be a while. I’ll be bored out of my skull. You’ll have to keep feeding the monster yourself while I’m out of action. I know you’ll struggle without me, but-’
Henning laughs. ‘Are you still able to send text messages or do you need help with that as well?’
‘I haven’t tried yet.’
Nora enters the room, which instantly grows hotter and more claustrophobic. Henning gets up.
‘Do you know where my mobile is?’ Iver asks.
‘No,’ Nora replies. ‘But I can find out.’
‘Yes, please, would you?’
She disappears out of the door again. Henning follows her with his eyes before he turns to Iver.
‘I need to leave,’ he says.
‘Where are you going?’
‘I’m going… I’m going home.’
‘Okay.’
There is another silence. Henning starts to walk towards the door.
‘Henning?’
Henning stops and turns around.
‘Has it gone?’
‘Has what gone?’
‘The cocksure look.’
Henning turns to his colleague, serious this time. ‘Yes, Iver. It has. How does it feel?’
‘It hurts like hell.’
Henning’s face creases sympathetically.
He hasn’t felt like smiling this much for a long time.
Chapter 93
Henning’s mobile rings as he is about to go into the hospital newsagent to buy a paper.
‘You just can’t manage without me, can you?’ he mutters, feigning irritation.
‘Henning,’ Iver says eagerly. ‘I think I got an email from Thorleif Brenden.’
‘What?’
‘At first I thought it was spam, but the contents suggest that it’s him.’
‘I’ll be with you in a sec,’ Henning says, tossing down the newspaper. A few minutes later he is back in Iver’s room.
‘What did he say?’ Henning asks, agitated, as he rushes towards the bed. In a brief moment he registers that Nora isn’t there.
‘Read for yourself,’ Iver replies. Henning takes the mobile and starts reading:
From: GulvSprekk ‹gulvsprekk@hotmail. com›
Subject: ‹‹missing TV2 cameraman››
To: iver. gundersen@123news. no
Hello. I see that you are writing about me.
I am contacting you because I don’t know who to trust. I hope I can trust you. I am still alive and I am still sane — though I have good reason not to be.
I need your help. I was forced to commit a murder. I killed Tore Pulli. I had no choice. And now I am on the
