The Bullet That Missed полностью

‘Henrik Mikael Hansen, born in Norrköping on 4 May 1989.’ Stephen reads from his notebook. ‘Mum a pastry chef, dad a librarian. What do you say to that?’

‘You are wrong,’ says Henrik Mikael Hansen of Norrköping. ‘You couldn’t be more wrong. I’m Swedish, but apart from that. No one is a pastry chef.’

‘You love books, Henrik,’ says Stephen. ‘I love them too. You have quite the collection. A lot of them unique. And with unique books you can usually find a record of their sale. Nowadays you buy them all through a holding company, but, when you first started collecting, you used your own name, and that’s how we discovered your identity. It was a first edition of Wind in the Willows that gave you away.’

‘No,’ says Henrik. ‘This is impossible.’

‘Far from it, Henrik. It is an admirable way to get caught, at least. Once we had the name, everything else fell into our laps. Your sister is currently skiing, for example,’ says Stephen. ‘That’s from Facebook.’

‘Stephen,’ says Elizabeth. ‘Stephen.’

‘Just doing my bit,’ says Stephen. ‘Mainly Kuldesh. We owe them dinner.’

‘You’ve really been to see Kuldesh?’

‘I told you I had,’ says Stephen.

‘Yes, I –’ says Elizabeth.

‘We drove down,’ says Bogdan. ‘Was a secret.’

Elizabeth fixes Bogdan with a stare. ‘Full of little secrets at the moment, aren’t you, Bogdan?’

Everyone else has turned to look at Henrik Hansen.

Ron is glad he was invited to witness this whole scene. Previously it’s the sort of thing Elizabeth and Joyce would have taken care of themselves, only to fill him in the next morning. He is aware he hasn’t yet been helpful, but he is grateful to be in the room.

‘I am not Henrik Hansen,’ says Henrik Hansen.

‘I think you probably are,’ says Elizabeth. ‘My husband doesn’t get an awful lot wrong.’

‘Henrik, we can be friends,’ says Viktor. ‘Or, if not friends, then acquaintances who choose not to kill each other. If you leave me in peace, I will make sure my many clients leave you in peace too.’

‘No, I am not Henrik,’ says Henrik again, his anger rising. ‘You are all wrong, and you are all dead. Every single one of you.’

‘Henrik,’ says Joyce, kindly, ‘you couldn’t even kill me.’

‘Then I won’t kill all of you. I will kill one of you,’ says Henrik. ‘Yes. As a lesson for the others. The second you let me go, the hunt begins.’

Henrik’s eyes scan the room, looking for prey. They settle on Ron.

‘You,’ says Henrik. ‘I will kill you.’

Ron rolls his eyes. ‘It’s always me.’

‘You will never see me coming,’ says Henrik.

Pauline stands, slowly and calmly. She walks over to Henrik and places a hand on either side of his face. The room falls silent.

‘Henrik, listen to me carefully, my darling. I’ve met a thousand men like you, and I know you need things spelled out for you. So here goes. If you even dream of touching a hair on Ron’s head, I will kill you. That man is under my protection, and if any harm comes to him I will put bullets in your knees, and then in your elbows, and then, when I’ve tired of hearing you screaming, which will take a long, long time, I will put a bullet in your head to finish you off. In fact, if Ron wakes up with so much as a cough, I will find you, and I will cut out your heart and eat it. And I will send the video evidence to your mum, the pastry chef. Do we have the beginnings of an understanding?’

Henrik is losing heart quickly. He points at Ibrahim now. ‘Then I will kill him.’

Pauline squeezes his face even tighter. ‘That’s Ron’s best friend. Which makes him my best friend too.’

Ron has not seen Ibrahim blush before.

‘No one dies here today,’ continues Pauline. ‘Viktor has been very reasonable, so stop pretending to be a psychopath.’

‘I am a psychopath,’ protests Henrik.

‘Darling,’ says Pauline, letting go of Henrik’s face, ‘a psychopath would have shot Alan.’

Alan gives a happy woof. He likes hearing his name.

Henrik looks beaten. ‘I thought this would be easier.’

‘I’m going to get you a water,’ says Joyce. ‘It will be quite safe, I promise you.’

‘Thank you, Joyce,’ says Henrik. ‘I should have chosen the flower mug. Even as I chose the motorbike mug, I thought, “Oh, come on, that’s so clichéd.”’

‘We’re all programmed,’ says Joyce. ‘Joanna made me watch a YouTube video about it.’

‘I’m going to untie you now,’ says Viktor. ‘I can trust you, yes? Even if I can’t, I have a gun, and I’m assuming Elizabeth has a gun too. Perhaps even Pauline has one.’

Viktor loosens the baling wire around Henrik’s wrists, and he wriggles his hands free. Joyce comes back in with the water and Henrik takes it from her.

‘Thank you, Joyce,’ he says.

‘I can take a sip of it if you’d like?’ says Joyce.

The room falls into a momentary, contented silence. It is broken by Pauline again.

‘Can I make an observation?’

Ron looks at Pauline, who, once again, has the attention of the room. My God, he’s got a hell of a woman on his hands here.

‘I love an observation,’ says Ibrahim. ‘It is grist to my mill. Especially coming from a good friend such as you, Pauline.’