Oleg smiled wanly. ‘I suppose we’ve made a number of mistakes, both of us. No?’
Harry nodded.
Oleg had got to his feet and was standing beside the stove. ‘But I didn’t only make mistakes, did I?’
‘Not at all. You did a lot right as well.’
‘Like what?’
Harry shrugged. ‘Like claiming you threw yourself at the gun of this fictional killer. Saying he wore a balaclava and didn’t say a word. He only used gestures. You left it to me to draw the obvious conclusions: that it explained the gunshot residue on your skin, and that the killer didn’t speak because he was afraid you would recognise his voice, so he had some connection with the drug trade or the police. My guess is you used the balaclava because you noticed the policeman with you at Alnabru had one. In your story you located him in the neighbouring office because it was stripped bare, and it was open so everyone could come and go from there to the river. You gave me the hints so that I could build my own convincing explanation of why you hadn’t killed Gusto. An explanation you knew my brain would manage. For our brains are always willing to let emotions make decisions. Always ready to find the consoling answers our hearts need.’
Oleg nodded slowly. ‘But now you have all the other answers. The correct ones.’
‘Apart from one,’ Harry said. ‘Why?’
Oleg didn’t reply. Harry held up his right hand while slowly putting his left in his trouser pocket and pulling out a crumpled pack and lighter.
‘Why, Oleg?’
‘What do you think?’
‘I thought for a while it was all about Irene. Jealousy. Or you knew he had sold her to someone. But if he was the only person who knew where she was, you couldn’t kill him until he had told you. So it must have been about something else. Something as strong as love for a woman. Because you’re no killer, are you.’
‘You tell me.’
‘You’re a man with a classic motive that has driven men, good men, to perform terrible deeds, myself included. The investigation has gone round in circles. Getting nowhere. I’m back where we started. With a love affair. The worst kind.’
‘What do you know about that?’
‘Because I’ve been in love with the same woman. Or her sister. She’s drop-dead gorgeous at night, and as ugly as sin when you wake next morning.’ Harry lit the black cigarette with the gold filter and the Russian imperial eagle. ‘But when night comes you’ve forgotten and you’re in love again. And nothing can compete with this love, not even Irene. Am I wrong?’
Harry took a drag and watched Oleg.
‘What do you want me to say? You know everything anyway.’
‘I want to hear you say it.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I want you to hear yourself say it. So that you can hear how sick and meaningless it is.’
‘What? That it’s sick to shoot someone because they try to nick your dope? The dope you’ve slogged your guts out to scrape together?’
‘Can’t you hear how banal that sounds?’
‘Says you!’
‘Yes, says me. I lost the best woman in the world because I couldn’t resist. And you’ve killed your best friend, Oleg. Say his name.’
‘Why?’
‘Say his name.’
‘I’ve got the gun.’
‘Say his name.’
Oleg grinned. ‘Gusto. What’s-’
‘Once more.’
Oleg tilted his head and looked at Harry. ‘Gusto.’
‘Once more!’ Harry yelled.
‘Gusto!’ Oleg yelled back.
‘Once m-’
‘Gusto!’ Oleg took a deep breath. ‘Gusto! Gusto…’ His voice had begun to tremble. ‘Gusto!’ It burst at the seams. ‘Gusto. Gus…’ A sob intervened. ‘… to.’ Tears fell as he squeezed his eyes and whispered: ‘Gusto. Gusto Hanssen…’
Harry took a step forward, but Oleg raised the gun.
‘You’re young, Oleg. You can still change.’
‘And what about you, Harry? Can’t you change?’
‘I wish I could, Oleg. I wish I had, then I would’ve taken better care of both of you. But it’s too late for me. I am the person I am.’
‘Which is? Alkie? Traitor?’
‘Policeman.’
Oleg laughed. ‘Is that it? Policeman? Not a person or anything?’
‘Mostly a policeman.’
‘Mostly a policeman,’ Oleg repeated with a nod. ‘Isn’t that banal?’
‘Banal and dull,’ Harry said, taking the half-smoked cigarette and regarding it with disapproval, as if it wasn’t working as it should. ‘Because that means I have no choice, Oleg.’
‘Choice?’
‘I have to make sure you take your punishment.’
‘You don’t work for the police any more, Harry. You’re unarmed. And no one else knows that you know or that you’re here. Think of Mum. Think about me! For once, think about us, all three of us.’ His eyes were full of tears, and there was a shrill, metallic tone of desperation in his voice. ‘Why can’t you just go away now, and then we’ll forget everything, then we’ll say this hasn’t happened?’
‘I wish I could,’ Harry said. ‘But you’ve got me cornered. I know what happened, and I have to stop you.’
‘So why did you let me take the gun?’
Harry shrugged. ‘I can’t arrest you. You have to give yourself up. It’s your race.’
‘Give myself up? Why should I? I’ve just been released!’
‘If I arrest you I’ll lose both your mother and you. And without you I am nothing. I can’t live without you. Do you understand, Oleg? I’m a rat that’s been locked out and there’s only one way in. And it goes through you.’
‘So let me go! Let’s forget the whole business and start afresh!’
Harry shook his head. ‘Premeditated murder, Oleg. I can’t. You’re the one with the gun, you have the key now. You have to think about all three of us. If we go to Hans Christian he can sort things out and the punishment will be substantially reduced.’
‘But it’ll be long enough for me to lose Irene. No one would wait that long.’
‘Maybe, maybe not. Maybe you’ve lost her already.’
‘You’re lying! You always lie!’ Harry watched Oleg blinking the tears from his eyes. ‘What will you do if I refuse to give myself up?’
‘Then I’ll have to arrest you now.’
A groan escaped Oleg’s lips, a sound halfway between a gasp and disbelieving laughter.
‘You’re mad, Harry.’
‘It’s the way I’m made, Oleg. I do what I have to do. As you have to do what you have to do.’
‘ Have to? You make it sound like a bloody curse.’
‘Maybe.’
‘Bullshit!’
‘Break the curse then, Oleg. Because you don’t really want to kill again, do you.’
‘Get out!’ Oleg screamed. The gun shook in his hand. ‘Go on! You’re not in the police any more!’
‘Correct,’ Harry said. ‘But I am, as I said…’ He clenched his lips around the black cigarette and inhaled deeply.
