‘Yes, in case he might reappear,’ said the Beavis type without taking his eyes off her.
‘It’s not so unlikely, is it?’ she said. ‘He may not know it’s burned down.’
‘My father worked there,’ Beavis said. ‘He used to say he made PSG, coughed PSG and became PSG.’
‘Are there a lot of Kripos people in the area? Did Mikael give you orders to come here?’
‘You don’t meet him any more, do you? You meet Harry Hole.’
Kaja felt a chill in her stomach. How on earth did this man know that? Had Mikael really told people about them?
‘You weren’t at Havass,’ she said to change the topic.
‘Wasn’t I?’ Grunted laughter. ‘I suppose I was free. Time off. Jussi was there.’
‘Yes,’ she said quietly. ‘He was there.’
A gust of wind swept in, and she twisted her head to prevent a branch scratching her face. Had he been following her or had he been here before she arrived?
When she turned to ask him, he wasn’t there. She shone her torch between the trees. He was gone.
It was two in the morning when she parked in the street, went through the gate and up the steps to the yellow house. She pressed the button over the painted ceramic tile bearing the words ‘fam. Hole’ in ornate looped writing.
After ringing for the third time she heard a low cough and turned to see Harry returning a service revolver to the lining of his trousers. He must have crept around the corner of the house without making any noise.
‘What’s up?’ she asked, terrified.
‘Just being extra careful. You should have phoned and said you were coming.’
‘Sh-shouldn’t I have come?’
Harry went up the steps past her and unlocked the door. She followed him in, put her arms around him from behind, clung to his back and kicked the door shut with her heel. He freed himself, turned, was about to say something, but she stopped him with a kiss. A greedy kiss that demanded reciprocity. She put her cold hands up his shirt, felt from the glowing hot skin that he had come straight from bed, removed the revolver from his trousers and banged it down on the hall table.
‘I want you,’ she whispered, bit his ear and pushed her hand down his trousers. His dick was warm and soft.
‘Kaja…’
‘Can I have you?’
She thought she could discern a slight hesitation, a certain reluctance. She wrapped her other hand around his neck, looked into his eyes. ‘Please…’
He smiled. Then his muscles relaxed. And he kissed her. Cautiously. More cautiously than she wanted. She groaned with frustration, undid his trouser buttons. Held his dick firmly without moving her hand, felt it grow.
‘Fuck you,’ he sighed and lifted her. Carried her up the stairs. Kicked open the bedroom door and laid her on the bed. On his mother’s side. She tilted back her head, closed her eyes, felt her clothes being removed, quickly, efficiently. Felt the heat radiating from his skin the moment he lowered himself onto her and forced her legs apart. Yes, she thought. Fuck me.
She lay with her cheek and ear against his chest, listening to his heartbeat.
‘What were you thinking,’ she whispered, ‘when you were lying there knowing you were going to die?’
‘That I was going to live,’ Harry said.
‘Just that?’
‘Just that.’
‘Not that you were going to… meet those you loved?’
‘No.’
‘I did. It was strange. I was so frightened that something special was going to pieces. And then the horror passed and instead I was filled with peace. I just slept. And then you came. And woke me up. Rescued me.’
Harry passed her his cigarette and she took a drag, then sniggered.
‘You’re a hero, Harry. The type they give medals. Who would have thought that of you, eh?’
Harry shook his head. ‘Believe me, sweetheart, I was thinking only of myself. I didn’t spare you a thought until I reached the fireplace.’
‘Maybe not, but when you got there you still had very little air. By digging me out you knew we would use up the air twice as quickly.’
‘What can I say? I’m a generous guy.’
She slapped his chest with a laugh. ‘A hero!’
Harry inhaled hard. ‘Or perhaps it was survival instinct outmanoeuvring conscience.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘The person I found first was so strong he almost managed to keep the pole. So I guessed it had to be Kolkka and that he was alive. I knew it was a question of seconds and minutes, but instead of digging him out I prodded the snow to find you. You were quite still. I thought you were dead.’
‘So?’
‘So maybe I was thinking deep down that if I dug out the dead one first the one who was alive might die in the meantime. In that way I could have all the air to myself. It’s hard to know what governs your actions.’
She went quiet. Outside, the snarl of a motorbike rose and fell. A motorbike in March. And today she had seen a migratory bird. Everything was out of balance.
‘Do you always brood so much?’ she asked.
‘No. Maybe. I don’t know.’
She wriggled closer to him. ‘What are you brooding about now?’
‘How he can know what he knows.’
She sighed. ‘Our killer?’
‘And why he’s playing with me. Why he sends me a bit of Tony Leike. How he thinks.’
‘And how are you going to find out?’
He stubbed out the cigarette on the bedside table. Took a deep breath and released it in a long hiss. ‘That’s the point. I can only think of one way. I have to talk to him.’
‘Him? Prince Charming?’
‘Someone like him.’
The dream came on the threshold of sleep. He was staring up at a nail. It was sticking out of a man’s head. But there was something familiar about the face tonight. A familiar portrait, one he had seen so many times. Seen recently. The foreign object in Harry’s mouth exploded and he twitched. He was asleep.
70
Blind Spot
Harry walked along the hospital corridor with a prison warder dressed in civilian clothing. Two strides in front was the doctor. She had informed Harry of his condition, prepared him for what he should expect.
They came to a door and the warder unlocked it. Inside, the corridor continued for a few metres. There were three doors in the wall to the left. A uniformed prison warder stood in front of one of them.
‘Is he awake?’ asked the doctor while the warder searched Harry. The officer nodded, put all the contents of Harry’s pockets on the table, unlocked the door and stepped aside.
The doctor signalled that Harry should wait a moment and entered with the warder. She came back out immediately.
‘Fifteen minutes maximum,’ she said. ‘He’s doing better, but he’s weak.’
Harry nodded. Took a deep breath. And stepped inside.
He stopped by the door and heard it close behind him. The curtains were drawn, and the room was dark apart from a lamp by the bed. The light fell on a figure sitting semi-upright against a pillow, head bowed and long hair hanging down on each side.
