wrecked.
She hadn’t slept a wink. The whole night had crawled by with the same thoughts going round and round her brain without her coming to any conclusions: always the same questions, but never with any answers. She wished she knew where Carver was and whether he was alive or dead. She wished, too, that she knew who Carver was: the man she’d thought she could love, or the vicious killer she’d heard described on CNN. She kept going back to that moment at the ranch, when she’d felt his hands grip her body tight and watched him struggle to overcome his desire: he’d never been more attractive to her than at the precise instant he let her go. But against that proof of self-restraint and consideration she thought of the brutal efficiency with which he’d dispatched the two rednecks in that roadhouse south of Cascade. The man who had done that might just be capable of bombing a hotel without even losing sleep. And yet she still heard Ole Ravnsborg’s voice in her head, asking, ‘What if he is an innocent man who has himself been used?’
When the morning came, she hauled herself off to the bathroom and stood under a blistering hot shower until the fatigue and stiffness had melted from her neck and shoulders. Then she yanked the control to the far side of the dial and made herself stay there under the blast of freezing water. Now, as she stood by the basin and dabbed a concealer wand at the sacks under her eyes, her mind at last reached a point of clarity and the answers she was seeking seemed to fall into place like the tumblers of a lock.
It was just a matter of getting enough evidence to convince Ravnsborg that her answers were right. And to do that, the first thing she needed was a chat with the future Mrs Larsson. Time they had a good girl-talk.
The hotel was surrounded by TV crews and reporters. Maddy had to persuade the management to smuggle her out of the rear service exit like a scandal-ridden celebrity. She dashed to a waiting taxi and was driven up through hills dotted with smart suburban homes to the Holmenkollen Chapel, a starkly beautiful construction of black-stained wood topped with heavy wooden crosses.
‘What do you think?’ asked Thor Larsson, who met her outside the entrance.
‘About this place?’ she replied, looking up at the looming silhouette of the chapel set against the pale blue sky. ‘I think it looks like a cross between a church and a haunted house. Or do you mean: what do I think about being here, at this damn rehearsal? Because, honestly, I don’t know how you can go ahead with a wedding, after last night.’
‘You think we should cancel it?’ he asked.
‘Yeah, don’t you? Ten people died last night. We were there. Oh, and your best man is accused of the crime.’
‘Ten people will die on the roads in this country over the next two or three days. Ten people die on a good day in Iraq. Should we cancel everything for them too?’
‘But we were there.’
‘Yes, we were having dinner in the cafe. But we didn’t make the bombs go off. And what about Karin? Am I supposed to tell her: Sorry, darling, you’ll have to send all your family and friends a thousand kilometres back to Narvik because some guy let off a bomb? It doesn’t make sense.’
There was a tension in Larsson’s voice, a desperation almost, which was out of keeping with everything Sam had told her about his laid-back personality; everything she had seen herself at the airport and over dinner. She wondered if the person he was really trying to persuade was himself.
‘What about Carver?’ she asked as they walked into the chapel.
‘Do you think he was responsible for what happened?’ Larsson replied.
‘No… no, I don’t. I can’t.’
‘OK. But if we cancelled, that would be like an admission that we were linked to the guilty man. We can’t do that to him.’
‘What if he’s dead?’
‘I don’t think he is. I’ve known him a long time and he always pulls through. So we’re going to do this rehearsal, OK?’
Ahead of them, Karin was looking up at the altar, lost in thought.
‘Wait a minute,’ Maddy said to Larsson. ‘I just need to say hello to Karin, all right?’
‘I’ll introduce you.’
‘No, it’s OK, I can do it.’
Maddy walked towards Karin, wondering what to say to her. At any other rehearsal she’d tell the bride how pretty she looked and giggle sympathetically about the stress of it all. But now? Maddy decided that she might as well be honest.
‘Weird, isn’t it?’ she said. ‘I mean, doing all this… now… after last night.’
‘Oh God, I’m so glad you said that,’ said Karin, bursting into tears. She sounded distraught, but also relieved, as though a great burden of lies and pretence had been lifted from her shoulders.
Maddy hugged her. ‘It’s OK… Come on, sit down here.’
She led Karin to the altar steps. She told her everything was going to be fine, though she knew neither of them believed it. There was only one thing Maddy truly wanted to talk about.
‘Can I ask you a question?’
Karin nodded as she wiped away her tears.
‘How long have you guys been engaged?’ Maddy asked. ‘You must have been planning this for the longest time.’
‘Actually, no,’ Karin replied. A weary smile played around her face. ‘You know, marriage is not so important here as maybe it is in America. In fact, it’s a little old-fashioned. But Thor just proposed to me, only a month ago, right out of the blue.’
‘I didn’t know he was so romantic!’
Karin laughed. ‘Oh God, I’m sorry!’ she said, acutely conscious of her red eyes and runny nose.
‘It’s fine,’ said Maddy, touching Karin’s arm sympathetically. ‘It’s my fault for suggesting your husband-to-be is romantic.’
Karin smiled again, this time without apology. ‘Well, I don’t think Thor is romantic, exactly,’ she said. ‘But he was trying to be, I guess. He’d gone to so much trouble. He’d even checked up the dates when the chapel was available.’
‘He’d even picked a date? Oh my!’ said Maddy, doing her best to sound cheerful. ‘Well, I guess you had to say yes to that!’
‘I didn’t know what to say at first, it was so sudden. But he was very persuasive.’
Maddy nodded sympathetically. ‘I’m sure,’ she said. ‘And I’m so glad we could talk.’
She leaned across and pecked Karin on the cheek, then got up, walked right over to Larsson and asked him, ‘Do you want to tell her, or shall I?’
‘Tell her what?’
‘That the wedding is a scam. That it was only set up to get Carver here on the right date, the same way you got us to go to that restaurant last night, so he’d be there when the bomb went off. So he’d get the blame – your best friend. How could you do that to him? Why?’
Maddy was ready for Larsson to react violently. But he did not even argue. Instead he seemed to crumple before her: his face, his shoulders, even his legs seemed to buckle a little.
‘Come with me,’ he said, ‘please. I don’t want Karin to hear anything.’
Maddy walked with him back down the aisle and out into the open air.
‘I swear I didn’t know what was going to happen,’ Larsson said when they got outside. His voice was pleading but there was also relief there that he could finally get things off his chest. ‘I was just told to find a way to get Carver to the hotel that evening, that was all. And some other stuff, you know, designs… like I did for Carver…’
‘But why did you agree?’
‘I was sent photographs of Karin… at home, at work, walking through town, everywhere. If they had threatened me… I mean, I’m not like Carver, but I can look after myself. But I could not look after Karin, not every minute of the day… And there was something else…’ He leaned closer to Maddy and barely whispered, ‘Karin’s
