As he sat with her during those last hours – more for appearance’s sake than because he actually felt any sorrow – everything changed. Niclas Winter walked out of his dead mother’s room at the Lovisenberg Hospice with a smile on his lips, fresh hope and a riddle to solve.
And he had done it.
It had taken time, of course. His mother had been so vague that it had taken him several weeks to find the right office. He had got too stressed and made a couple of mistakes along the way. But now he had done it. The appointment had been made for the first working day after the New Year, and the man he was going to meet would make Niclas Winter a very rich man.
He poured himself more champagne and drank.
The tiny, tiny feeling of intoxication did him good, and his piece was finished. If StatoilHydro didn’t have the sense to take the opportunity, there would be other buyers. With the money that was due to come to him he could accept the offer of an exhibition in New York in the autumn. He could give up all those other jobs that sucked the energy and creativity out of him. And he would finally give up the drugs. And the booze. He would work all day long, with no worries.
Niclas Winter was almost happy.
He thought he heard a noise. An almost imperceptible click.
He half-turned. The door was locked, and there was no one there. He drank a little more. A cat on the roof, perhaps. He looked up.
Someone grabbed hold of him. He understood nothing as someone’s hands pulled at his face, forcing his mouth open. When the syringe was pushed into his left cheek, he was surprised more than afraid. The needle caught his tongue, and the pain as it touched the sensitive mucus membrane was so agonizing that he cried out at last. A man was still standing behind him, gripping his hands. An intense heat spread from his mouth at lightning speed, and it was difficult to breathe. The stranger caught him as he fell. Niclas Winter smiled and tried to blink away the film that was covering his eyes like oil. He couldn’t get any air. His lungs were no longer working.
He was hardly even aware of his left sleeve being pushed up.
The second needle ate its way into the blue vein in the crook of his arm.
It was 27 December 2008, and the time was thirty-three minutes past midnight. When Niclas Winter died, thirty-two years old and on the verge of an international breakthrough as an artist, he was still smiling in surprise.
Ragnhild Vik Stubo was laughing her biggest laugh. Johanne smiled back, picked up the dice and threw them again.
‘You’re not very good at Yahtzee, Mummy.’
‘Unlucky at games, lucky in love. I’ll just have to console myself with that.’
The dice landed, showing two ones, a three, a four and a five. Johanne hesitated for a moment before leaving the ones and taking her final throw.
The telephone rang.
‘No cheating while I’m gone,’ she ordered, pretending to sound severe as she got up.
Her mobile was in the kitchen. She pressed the green icon.
‘Johanne Vik,’ she said tersely.
‘Hi, it’s me.’
She felt a stab of irritation at the fact that Isak never introduced himself. It should be Adam’s privilege to take it for granted that she would immediately recognize his voice. After all, it was more than ten years since she and Isak had split up. True, he was the father of her eldest daughter, and it was lucky for all of them that they got on. However, he wasn’t a close family member any more, even if he behaved like one.
‘Hi,’ she said dryly. ‘Thanks for driving Ragnhild home yesterday. How’s Kristiane?’
‘Well, that’s why I’m ringing. Now, you’re not to… you must promise not to be…’
Johanne could feel the skin between her shoulder blades contracting.
‘What?’ she said when he hesitated.
‘Well… I’m at Sandvika Storsenter. I wanted to exchange some Christmas presents and so… Kristiane and I… The problem is… It won’t help at all if you get angry.’
Johanne tried to swallow.
‘What’s happened to Kristiane?’ she said, forcing herself to sound calm.
From the living room she could hear Ragnhild throwing the dice over and over again.
‘She’s disappeared. Well, not disappeared. But I… I can’t find her. I was just going to-’
‘You’ve
She could see the vast shopping centre in her mind’s eye; it was the biggest in Scandinavia, with three floors, more than a hundred shops and so many exits that the very thought made her dizzy. She leaned on the kitchen worktop for support.
‘Just calm down, Johanne. I’ve spoken to the management and they’re looking for her. Have you any idea how many kids get lost in here every day? Loads! She’ll be wandering around on her own in some shop. I’m only ringing to ask if there are any shops in here that she’s particularly fond of…’
‘
‘She’s our child,’ said Isak at the other end. ‘And she isn’t-’
‘It’s all right, Ragnhild. Mummy was just a little bit worried. Hang on a minute and I’ll be there.’
The child was inconsolable. She howled and threw the dice on the floor.
‘I don’t want to be lost, Mummy!’
‘Try that teddy bear shop,’ Johanne hissed down the phone. ‘The one where you can make your own bear. It’s at the end of the walkway leading from the old part of the centre to the new part.
‘Mummy, Mummy!
‘Hush, sweetheart. Mummy will be there in a minute. Nobody has lost you, you know that.
The last comment was snapped furiously down the phone: ‘Keep your mobile on. I can be there in twenty minutes. Call me straight away if anything happens.’
Johanne ended the call, shoved the phone in her back pocket, ran into the living room, scooped up her youngest daughter and comforted her as best she could, while racing through the apartment towards the stairs leading to the outside door.
‘Nobody’s going to lose you, you know that. There’s nothing to be upset about. Mummy’s here now.’
‘Why did you say somebody had lost me?’
Ragnhild was snuffling, but at least she had calmed down slightly.
‘You misunderstood, sweetheart. That kind of thing happens.’
She slowed down as she reached the staircase, and walked calmly.
‘We’re going for a little drive. To Sandvika Storsenter.’
‘Storvik Sandsenter,’ said Ragnhild, smiling through her tears.
‘That’s right.’
‘What are you going to buy me?’
‘I’m not going to buy you anything, sweetheart. We’re just going to… we’re just going to pick up Kristiane.’
‘Kristiane’s coming back tomorrow,’ the child protested. ‘Tonight you and me are going to watch a film with popcorn on the sofa, on our own.’
‘Put your boots on. Quickly, please.’
Her heart was fluttering. She gasped for breath and pulled on her jacket as she forced herself to smile.
‘We’ll take your jacket with us. Off we go.’
‘I want my hat! And gloves! It’s cold outside, Mummy!’
‘Right, there you go,’ said Johanne, grabbing something that was lying on the shelf. ‘You can put them on in the car.’
