Afterwards, he exhaled. Checked the time again. All that remained was to remove every trace. Hopefully the impact of the spade hadn’t left any marks on the cranium to cast doubt on it being suicide. The flames would soon remove all else. He undid the straps and stuck them in his pocket. He cut the start and the end of the film on Røed’s phone so no one would suspect another person had been present but it would seem as though Røed himself had edited the recording before he sent it out. Then he marked every contact on Røed’s list, set the time to 00.30 and pressed Send. Thought about all the horrified, disbelieving faces lit up by screens. Then he wiped his fingerprints off the phone before slipping it into Røed’s suit jacket, noticed he had eight missed calls, three of them from Johan Krohn.
He poured petrol on the body. Let it soak in and repeated the process three times until he was certain the body was properly marinated. Doused the remaining beams and the walls still standing which were flammable. He walked around igniting it. Remembered to place the lighter by the bed so it appeared as though the last thing his stepfather had done was to set himself alight. Walked out of the shell of his childhood home, stood on the gravel drive and turned his face to the sky.
The ugliness was over. The moon had risen. It was beautiful and would soon be even more beautiful. Darkened, covered by blood. A celestial rose for his beloved. He would tell her that, use exactly those words.
Blueman
Katrine sang the last note almost soundlessly as she tried to gauge from Gert’s breathing if he had fallen asleep. Yes, it was deep and even. She pulled the duvet a little higher up and made ready to leave.
‘Whew is Uncle Hawny?’
She looked down into his blue, wide-open eyes. How had Bjørn not seen that they were Harry’s? Or had he, had he known right from day one in the delivery room?
‘Uncle Harry is at the hospital with a friend who’s sick. But Granny is here.’
‘Whew aw you going?’
‘To a place called Frognerseteren. It’s almost in the forest, high up in the hills. Maybe you and I can take a trip up there one day.’
‘And Uncle Hawny.’
She smiled at the same time as she felt a prick in her heart. ‘And maybe Uncle Harry,’ she said, and hoped she wasn’t lying.
‘Is de beaws deh?’
She shook her head. ‘No bears.’
Gert closed his eyes and moments later was asleep.
Katrine looked at him, could hardly tear herself away. Looked at the clock. Half eight. She had to get going. She kissed Gert on the forehead and left the room. Heard the faint clink of her mother-in-law’s knitting needles from the living room and stuck her head in.
‘He’s asleep,’ she whispered. ‘I’m off.’
Her mother-in-law nodded and smiled. ‘Katrine.’
Katrine stopped. ‘Yeah?’
‘Can you promise me something?’
‘What?’
‘That you’ll have a nice time.’
Katrine met the older woman’s gaze. And understood what she was saying. That her son was long dead and buried, that life had to go on. That she, Katrine, had to go on. Katrine felt a lump in her throat.
‘Thanks, Gran,’ she whispered. It was the first time she had called her Gran, and she could see the other woman’s eyes filling with tears.
Katrine walked quickly towards the metro station by the National Theatre. She hadn’t dressed up too much. A warm jacket and practical shoes, as per Arne’s recommendation. Did that mean they would be dining in the outdoor part of the restaurant, under patio heaters and with the view all around? With only the sky above? She glanced up at the moon.
Her phone rang. It was Harry again.
‘Johan Krohn called,’ he said. ‘Just so you know, Markus Røed has given his bodyguards the slip.’
‘Not exactly a shock,’ she said. ‘He’s a drug addict.’
‘The security company sent people to Jernbanetorget. No sign of him there. He hasn’t come back, nor is he answering his phone. Of course he might have headed somewhere else to score and then gone on to celebrate his release. I just thought you should know.’
‘Thanks. I was planning on having a night where I don’t give Markus Røed a thought but concentrate on the people I like. How’s Ståle?’
‘Astonishingly well for a man so close to death.’
‘Really?’
‘He thinks it’s the Grim Reaper’s way of welcoming him. Have him step voluntarily over the threshold of the underworld.’
Katrine couldn’t help smiling. ‘Sounds like Ståle. How are his wife and daughter doing?’
‘They’re bearing up well. Coping.’
‘OK. Give him my love.’
‘Will do. Is Gert asleep?’
‘Yeah. He mentions you a little too often, I feel.’
‘Mm. A new uncle you never knew about is always exciting. Enjoy your restaurant date. Bit late to be eating now, isn’t it?’
‘Was inevitable, they’re having trouble getting through the workload at Krimteknisk. Sung-min was supposed to be going out to dinner with his partner. Does he know—’
‘Yeah, I called about Røed.’
‘Thanks.’
They hung up as Katrine made her way down into the underground.
