'I don't know. We've talked about hiring a chalet somewhere here in Norway. Teach the boy to swim and all that.’
‘I didn't know you had any children.’
‘No, well, it's a long story.’
‘Really? Hope I get to hear it one day.’
‘We'll see, Maja. Keep the change.'
Maja performed a deep curtsey and went off with a wry grin on her face. It was empty in the cafe for a Friday afternoon. The heat had probably sent most people up to the terrace restaurant in St Hanshaugen.
'Well?' Harry said.
The old man stared down into his glass without answering. 'He's dead. Aren't you happy, Asnes?' The Mohican raised his head and looked at Harry. 'Who's dead?' he said. 'No one's dead. Just me. I'm the last of the dead.'
Harry sighed, stuffed the newspaper under his arm and walked out into the shimmering afternoon heat.
