Overalls backed the car up into the trees and stopped. The back door was flung open, the woman threw the gun on to the floor, shoved it under the seat.
– Out, she shouted, grabbing Sigurd by the collar of his shirt.
He landed with his face in the dry clay, dragged himself upright, felt bits of broken teeth in the slime on his lips. The woman thrust him in front of her, over towards the other car, a Toyota. He was pushed into the back seat, into a stench of mouldy plush. A few seconds later, smoke began rising from the SUV. As Overalls came running towards them, a fireball flared between the trees.
The woman drove now. They rejoined the motorway, heading east. A blue light approaching the other way. Sigurd tried to sit up; another punch to the head. Overalls staring at him over the seat back.
– You move once more and we’ll push you out and drive over you.
Arash took the escalator to the floor where the exit was. Zoran had said he had to come as quickly as he could. But he was still thirsty, found a door with the word Toilet on it, let himself in and locked it, turned on the tap, let the water run, filling his hands, filling his mouth, drinking until his stomach began to hurt, rubbing water into the skin of his face. Afterwards he dried himself with paper towels, examined himself in the mirror. His hair was sticking out at the sides, hanging over his forehead in a greasy curl, his beard as wild as forest undergrowth. Stood there looking into his own eyes, the black expanding and contracting. He didn’t look away; the face in the mirror changed, but it was always his.
He chose the route across the long stretch of flat ground by the old church, came to a little bridge. He’d run off. They tried to catch him. He had a feeling that something was urgent, and yet he stopped and stared down into the murky water, greeny-brown and shallow. An ambulance helicopter took off from the hospital. He looked up as it glided over the church steeple, on above the river flats until it disappeared behind the hill, above the forest he had run through a few days previously. That day he could have carried on running, he thought, deeper and deeper inside.
That wasn’t where he was going.
Turn back. Not knowing what to. He was on his way home. He had no home.
Jennifer hurried past the bus shelter, crossed the road at the roundabout. She wouldn’t ask Zoran about anything, just put the pieces on the table in front of him, not try to fit them together. Ibro Hakanovic had recognised someone at the hospital. Someone gave him morphine. Arash saw it, that was why they tried to kill him. Marita Dahl became an accidental victim. Dead because she was with Arash.
Now they were after Sigurd. Her Sigurd. She took out her phone, called him again as she let herself into Zoran’s block. There was a smell of basements and newly washed clothes. A pushchair by the stairs; she had to move it to get past. Stopped on the second floor and stood outside Zoran’s door, struggling for breath, her back sticky with sweat. Please, she prayed inwardly, but without knowing what she was praying for.
The sharp sound of the bell penetrated through his flat and died away. Thought she heard a sound in there. Could be from one of the other flats. She rang the bell again. Put her ear to the door. A faint scraping sound. Suddenly she saw an image of Sigurd.
I can’t handle this, she muttered, fumbling for the key, letting herself in.
Dark in the hallway. The door to the front room shut. She opened it slightly.
– Zoran?
She didn’t want to go in there, wanted this to stop here, without her needing to know any more.
No one in the living room. No one in the bedroom. She tried the bathroom door. It was locked.
– Zoran?
She knocked, cautiously.
– I must talk to you. Before I talk to anyone else.
Not a sound from inside. She knocked again.
– I need to ask you about what happened back then. In Bosnia.
No answer.
– Come out when you’re ready.
She stood in the living room, looking out the window. The light that slowly rose and fell, that never disappeared. The moment when she had decided to come to this country: she had met Ivar on holiday in another mountainous country, much further south in Europe. She had sat looking into the open fire on the evening her decision had been made. If she’d been able to see her story there in the embers, everything that would happen to her, all the dead ends … Everything was a dead end. She jerked the curtain closed.
The kitchen door was ajar. She pushed at it, something blocking it. When she pushed harder, a shoe came into view, part of a trouser leg.
She leaned all her weight against the door. Got it open enough to put her head round.
He lay on his stomach. Bleeding from his face, a pool of blood below his cheek.
She forced her way in through the opening, fell to her knees, shook him, got him over on his side. He had his reading glasses on, one of the lenses broken. The eyes closed, the skin pale blue.
– Zoran, she whispered, her hand on his neck, looking for a pulse.
Then a sound from the door behind her. She turned, looking up into those grey eyes, one of them squinting off in another direction; she had never been able to work out which one was looking at her.
They drove more slowly now, not much above the speed limit. Sigurd tried to keep track of the signs they passed, repeated the names inside himself, something to hold on to. The sound of a helicopter hammering above them, then disappearing. They passed Kongsvinger, going south, turned off suddenly and followed small country roads that led through forest. Sunlight between the trees, the landscape opening up towards the shores of a lake, closing again.
They pulled in at a petrol station. Overalls got out, filled the tank. When he returned, the woman moved to the back seat.
She took out a phone. Sigurd saw that it was his.
– You’re going to talk to Katja, the woman told him.
Sigurd said nothing. Overalls started the engine and they drove on.
– What’s your code?
He was still holding back answers he could have given.
The woman grabbed him by the hair.
– You are alive, she said. – You should be grateful to me for that.
Suddenly she had a gun in her hand and was pressing the barrel against his throat, this one longer and bigger than the other, the one she had thrown into the car they set on fire.
– Four five four three, he stammered.
She tapped in the numbers.
– Now I’m calling Katja. You’re going to ask her to meet us. Got that?
He nodded.
– And she’s to give us the phone with the message on it. You know the one I’m talking about.
The phone rang a few times. Then Katja’s voice, coming over the speaker. – Sigurd, she said. – Have you got the gun?
He swallowed, tried to see again that burning SUV. – It’s all taken care of.
– Taken care of?
– No bloodstains on it. Burned.
The words got stuck between his swollen lips.
– Are you sure?
– Yes.
– Where are you?
– In a car. He made an effort to speak clearly. – Not the gun they were looking for. That prison camp you talked about …
The woman dug into his side.
– Don’t go anywhere, he said loudly. – See you when I get there.
He pressed his face against the car window.
– You must stay exactly where you are, he said.
– We’ll manage it, Sigurd, no matter what happens.
He couldn’t let her go on believing that. He’d helped her; they were even now.
Then she said those three words. Had never said them to him before.
– Not that, he mumbled. – I don’t want to hear you say stuff like that.
The woman ended the call.
– She didn’t say where she was, Overalls growled.
Silence in the car.
– She’s in Malmö, Sigurd managed to say. �
�� Close to Malmö. A summer cabin by the sea.
– Call her and check.
– Then she’ll know something’s wrong, the woman said. – She’ll hide.
A few moments later she added: – I don’t think he’d dare trick us. She bent over Sigurd. – You’ll call her again in a little while. Arrange where to meet.
Sigurd felt his stomach heave again, a spasm that bulged up through his chest, as though his insides were being sucked out of him. – It won’t work, he groaned.
The woman hit him, just above the cheekbone.
– You do as we tell you, she barked in his ear. – When we don’t tell you to speak, you keep your mouth shut.
Jennifer backed away, knocked into the kitchen table, so hard that the computer on it woke up out of hibernation mode. – What’s happened?
Lydia in the doorway, fiddling with something in her jacket pocket.
– Nothing dangerous.
She was holding something that looked like a gun in her hand.
Jennifer continued to stare at her. – What have you done to him?
– Just an electric shock. I had to defend myself.
– Can’t you see he’s bleeding?
– A cut on his cheek. His glasses broke when he fell.
Jennifer bent and shook Zoran. As she raised his head, he opened his eyes.
– Jenny, he stammered.
– Lie still, I’ll call an ambulance.
She helped him up into a sitting position. Blood ran from a cut below his eye. She removed a shard of glass that was sticking out of it.
– Look out, he muttered.
When she got to her feet, Lydia was still standing there with the stun gun in her hand.
– I don’t understand, said Jennifer.
Zoran tried to stand up, slumped down again. – The computer.
Jennifer turned and looked at it.
– It’s her, said Zoran, his voice a little stronger.
A list of names on the screen. Picture of a group of men and women in white coats outside a hospital entrance.
– It’s her, he said again. – In the picture … A hospital in Bosnia. Her name then was Ludmilla Golubeva. He raised his hand, as though he was trying to point to Lydia. – Ibro Hakanovic recognised her.
Lydia waved the stun gun. – He’s lying, Jenny. You mustn’t believe his lies.
Jennifer looked at him. – You heard that voicemail message last night. Why didn’t you say anything?
He blinked a few times, as though he’d got something in his eyes. – Had to be sure first.
– He’s making things up, Lydia protested. She took another step into the room. – He has strange notions. Look at me, Jenny. Do you believe I killed that patient? A man over one metre ninety?
Jennifer shook her head. – Hired killers did it. Someone brought them in.
Lydia gave a brief laugh. – And I’m supposed to be someone who can get professional assassins to turn up for me whenever I need them? Do you really think I’m that important?
Zoran put one hand on his chest, the other underneath him, got to his feet.
– The research project, he said, breathing heavily. – That’s why, Jenny. Everything that’s happened …
– Just keep still, Jennifer ordered him.
He supported himself against the kitchen table, clicked the mouse.
– A colleague in Bosnia sent me this.
A photograph appeared on the screen, a crashed car. Next to it a picture of a woman, unclear, but Jennifer could see who it was.
– Zoran, please.
A crookedness spreading over his face. Starting at the eyes, moving down, as though half of the face was dying.
– The research, he lisped.
She tried to support the heavy body as it collapsed against her, was dragged to the ground with him, twisted loose and got to her knees. When she managed to put two fingers to his neck, the pulse was weak and irregular, one beat missing, then several in quick succession.
– Damn, she muttered, fumbling to get the phone out of her jacket pocket.
Lydia grabbed her by the wrist. – If you ring from that phone, someone will die.
Jennifer pushed her aside. Her thoughts were loose scraps floating around her; she couldn’t get hold of them but knew that something terrible was about to happen.
– Do you hear me, Jenny? If you ring, your boy will die.
– No, she shouted. – You’re lying again.
Lydia looked sad, a lock of grey hair hanging over her eyes. – I’m not lying. They have Sigurd. They have your son in a car.
Jennifer tapped in the emergency response number.
– I can stop them, Lydia said quietly, as though imparting a secret. – I’ve been protecting him all this time. Give me your phone.
– Oh my God, Jennifer groaned. – Dear God in heaven.
– Give me the phone, said Lydia again. – I’ll call them and tell them to let Sigurd go. Your son, Jenny. And then I’ll leave here.
Jennifer blinked in confusion. – Zoran needs help. Immediately.
– You’ll have to choose. If you want Sigurd to live …
– I don’t believe you! she screamed.
Lydia took another step closer. Her whole face was twitching. – Will you believe me if I let you talk to him?
She took the phone from Jennifer’s hand.
A wall of water in front of them, the worn wipers unable to swish it away, rivers cascading down the car windows. Overalls had to drop his speed. When the rain eased off a bit, Sigurd made out a sign with Strömstad on it. They turned off directly after that. A few minutes later, they rolled into the little town. Overalls spoke on the phone. Seemed to be explaining something or other. Drove into an area down by the waterfront, behind what looked like a storage depot.
– Now follow me, said the woman. – Walk properly and keep your mouth shut.
She opened the door for Sigurd, shoved him out. It was still raining, quiet and warm. She held him by the arm, led him over to a BMW standing there, the same model as his own. He looked around. No one in sight, no one to call out to.
She sat beside him in the back seat. There was a smell of vomit, mingled with animal sweat. It could be his own. The woman seemed not to notice.
Overalls disappeared round the corner in the Toyota. Moments later he came hurrying back, hopped in behind the wheel.
The E6 heading south; Sigurd recognised the road. It was as though he remembered every turn and every slope.
First to see the bridge lives. The loser dies.
Can’t you find a different prize?
Trym doesn’t want to. Live or die, that’s what it’s all about.
Again the phone in the front rang. Overalls handed it to the woman. She listened for a while. Said something, her voice agitated. Listened again, just a few seconds this time, then began speaking at a furious pace, sounded as if she was telling someone off. Sigurd lay there and felt relieved that this time it wasn’t him, that someone else was being subjected to this flood of rage.
Suddenly she held the phone to his ear.
– Who is this?
Jenny’s voice. She was afraid. The way her voice sounded when she was getting into one of the gondolas on the big dipper. She had never liked heights. But he and Trym were able to persuade her. It had to be her. Ivar had had an infection of the vestibular nerve and could never ride with them.
– It’s me.
– Sigurd? My God. Where are you?
– In a car.
A few seconds’ pause.
– Is there … Have they hurt you?
– I’ll be all right.
– You will be all right. You hear me!
– The bridge, he said. – The one that looks like a ship. That’s where we’re going.
– What bridge? shouted Jenny as the woman grabbed the phone and cut the connection.
Overalls asked about something or other. Again she started to rage. Sigurd leaned as far away from her as he cou
ld.
– They want us to let you go, she shouted in Norwegian.
He didn’t know if he had heard correctly.
– They want us to let you out. Idiots!
He groaned, and it was as though that slight movement caused his throat to close up. He could hardly breathe.
– Someone has been praying to God for you, she hissed in his ear. – Think that might help you?
Arash followed the footpath round the hospital, emerging by the block where Zoran lived. Didn’t walk through the residential area, kept off the road where he might meet someone who knew him. That was what Zoran had asked him to do.
At the edge of the small patch of grass, he stopped and looked up, located Zoran’s flat on the second floor. A movement in the curtain up there; for an instant a face came into view, then the curtain was closed. His body tensed, his thoughts racing. That was the face he had seen in the examination room that evening. The doctor who had stood behind Ibro Hakanovic, talking to him as she injected something into his drip.
Arash tore himself away and started walking towards the end of the block, rounded the corner. Speeded up. The door to the third entrance was wedged open with a wooden block. Inside, he squeezed past an empty pushchair.
In that same instant, footsteps on the stairs. He turned back, moved the pushchair.
She came running down. The doctor from the emergency unit.
– It’s you, he said.
One eye squinted out sideways; for a second or two, it stared at him. He raised a hand, as though he had thought of stopping her. Her mouth made a hissing sound and she brushed his arm aside.
He stood there watching her as the outside door glided shut.
A few seconds later he was ringing on Zoran’s doorbell. After three rings, he tried knocking. Then, like an answer, he heard banging sounds from inside.
– Zoran, he called into the crack.
Certain Signs that You are Dead Page 34