“Ja?”
“Mr. Larsen?” Anna asked with a smile. “Peder Strand gave us your name and address. He suggested we come see you about some artwork.”
Olav Larsen raised a thick dark eyebrow and opened the door a little wider.
“He did, did he?” he asked, looking at both of them more closely. “Then you’d better come in.”
He swung the door open and stood aside so they could enter the small apartment. Evelyn swallowed as she stepped inside, but was pleasantly surprised by the neat and tidy living area she found herself in. The furniture was simple, with only a small sofa and two chairs and a long, low table in the center. Late afternoon sun streamed through the window, brightening the room considerably after the dim light in the hallway.
“Thank you. My name is Anna Salvesen, and this is my friend Marlene. Peder sends his regards and says that you should come by the shop one day.”
“How is Peder?” Olav asked, moving around them. “I haven’t seen him in a few weeks.”
“He’s well.” Anna looked around curiously. “I’m sorry to have come without sending a message first. I hope we aren’t disturbing you.”
Olav motioned them to the chairs.
“No. I was just finishing up some work,” he said, waving vaguely in the direction of a door to their left. He sat down on the couch and looked at them expectantly. “Why did Peder send you to me? What can I do for you?”
“Actually, he wasn’t very clear about what kind of artist you were,” Evelyn said, working her gloves off her fingers. “He seemed to think that I would be interested in your work.”
Olav studied her for a moment. “And so here you are?”
“Yes.”
“You speak Norwegian very well, but I don’t think you’re from Oslo, are you?” he asked.
“No.”
“Are you German?”
“No.”
“Thank God for that,” he said. “I had a German once who didn’t pay me. I haven’t worked with any since.”
Evelyn smiled faintly. “I can’t say that I blame you.”
“What kind of artist are you, Mr. Larsen?” Anna asked.
A faint smile crossed his face. “Portraits, mainly,” he said. “I used to do landscapes, but there was no money in those.”
“And is there a lot of money in portraits?” Evelyn asked.
“A surprising amount, if you have the right clients.” Olav tilted his head and considered her thoughtfully. “Where are you from, Miss...”
“Elfman. I’m from Belgium.”
“And what brings you to Oslo?”
“I’m visiting an old friend.”
“Ah. Of course.” Something in his smile told Evelyn that he didn’t believe a word of it, but he didn’t seem inclined to pursue it. “Are you enjoying yourself?”
“Immensely,” she smiled. “It’s a wonderful city. Anna took me down to Drammen the other day. I had a wonderful time.”
“Drammen? Did you try the beer?”
“Yes. We had dinner on the water and then came back,” Anna said. “I told her she had to try the Aass, as it was a local brewery.”
“Drammen seems a strange place to go on a visit to Norway,” Olav said. “Do you know someone there?”
“A friend of my brother lives there,” Anna said smoothly.
Olav nodded. “Ah. That makes more sense, then.” His eyes went back to Evelyn. “Did you like the beer?”
“It was different from what I’m used to,” she said truthfully, “but I enjoyed it.”
He laughed. “I must say that you don’t strike me as much of a beer drinker. In fact, I’m having a hard time figuring you out, Miss Elfman.”
“Whatever do you mean?”
“Let’s just say that you’re not the normal clientele that gets referred to me,” he said humorously. “I’m usually quite good at reading people, but you’re different. I’m curious why Peder thought I might be able to help you.”
Anna looked at her and Evelyn cleared her throat.
“I think perhaps he thought you would be sympathetic to something I’m trying to do,” she told him. “But I’m not sure why he thought an artist would be helpful, to be honest.”
“Perhaps if I knew what you were trying to do?”
She looked at him for a long moment. There was nothing but polite interest in his face and she wondered, not for the first time since coming into this small flat, why Peder thought Olav would be helpful to an intelligence network. But he obviously knew something that Olav hadn’t shared with them yet, and she didn’t think he would send them here on a whim. He seemed far too sensible for that.
“I’m trying to locate people with, shall we say, skills that would lend themselves to a particular task,” she said slowly. “Unfortunately, without knowing precisely what your particular skill is, I have no idea whether or not we can be of any benefit to each other.”
Olav was quiet for a long moment, then he raised his eyebrows. “And what kind of task is it that would need doing?”
“Well, that would depend entirely on your skills,” she said with a smile and a shrug. “So, you see, it would appear that we’re at an impasse.”
He chuckled and suddenly stood.
“Come with me,” he said, turning towards the door on the left. “If Peder trusts you, then I suppose I can.”
Evelyn glanced at Anna and stood, following him. Anna was right behind her, her eyes wide with curiosity. He opened the door and went in, motioning for them to follow. Evelyn stepped into a smaller room, looking around. A large table dominated one wall, stretching the length of the room, with bright lights on either end. Spread across the center was a variety of paper and what looked like card stock, along with boxes filled with pens, ink, stamps and assorted seals. On the far side, the wall was completely bare and a tall lamp with an adjustable neck stood to the side, angled to shine on the wall.
Evelyn’s brows came together and she turned her head to find a camera set up on a tri-pod opposite the blank
