After some reflection I rang Stine Sagvåg. She was no less shocked than I had expected. ‘What is going on there, Varg? This is simply catastrophic.’
‘Do you mean from a human or a business perspective?’
‘Both. This Stein Svenson … I don’t know much more about him – only trivial details. But how could he be so desperate …?’
‘Someone went to great lengths to stop him doing this on Wednesday, if you know what I mean.’
‘Yes. They were absolutely justified then. In stopping him, I mean. And now you’re telling me the bridge is destroyed as well. This could delay the project for years.’
‘Not impossible.’
‘I feel like swearing.’
‘Don’t restrain yourself on my account. I can tolerate most swear words.’
‘Oh, shut up.’
If that was the worst she could come up with, it would take a little more powder to blow my kneecaps off. ‘As far as the assignment’s concerned, one party has gone now, for good. Furthermore, neither of the two people I’ve spoken to has admitted that anything in any way shady took place. So unless someone submits a demand for Per Nordbø to be exhumed and examined to establish an advanced state of senility I feel sure that we – that is to say, you – have a strong case against Bringeland.’
‘Good. I’m happy with that.’ In a cool, business-like fashion she added: ‘Send us an invoice and we’ll regard the case as terminated.’
‘Thank you. See you another time.’
‘Maybe,’ she said, and rang off, without giving the impression that a reunion would be a top priority on her side of the Langfjellene mountains.
Such was life. I’d had two assignments in the course of a short week, and I couldn’t say either of them had been concluded to the complete satisfaction of either employer. I was on the point of admitting that Hamre was right. I should go round with a flag warning everyone I met: Beware of Veum. Death is nigh …
The crane from Mongstad had arrived. The guys on board the boat manoeuvred their way to the rocks where Svenson lay. I had no interest in seeing what he looked like after they had raised the concrete. Instead I walked in the opposite direction, sat down by the water’s edge and watched the gulls hovering, to all intents and purposes, aimlessly above the sound. But I knew this was an illusion, too. They were always hunting as well. In this respect we were relatives. But, unless I was much mistaken, they would have better results to show for their work than I would at the end of this day.
30
With the ease and grace of a dragonfly the helicopter took off from the quay. For a few, brief instants it hung in the air over Brennøy, and in a swift sweeping scan I saw the whole of the tiny island community, separated from Byrknesøy now for an indefinite period. Outside Naustvik, Kristine and Lars Rørdal stood watching us from below. Ole also had a seat in the helicopter, and the two of them looked strangely abandoned in the car park, along with a handful of cars that would evidently have to be lifted by crane to the mainland. Further up the island we could see other buildings: the chapel, Gunvor Matre’s red house, the dark belt of forest and furthest away, on the rocks in the north-west, the cross, in sharp profile against the bluish-grey sea beyond.
Then the helicopter dipped slightly as it increased speed before straightening up and heading for Bergen. Leaving Byrknesøy behind us, we flew over the southern tip of Sandøy, thereafter straight past Mongstad. A tanker was moored by the vast oil terminal. On the side of the ship, painted in large, white letters was: TWO. From the tall chimney ashore burned the eternal Olympic flame, except that in modern Norway O stood for oil and not Olympic, and no Olympic champions had ever brought so much gold to the country as the floating black-and-yellow remains of plants and animals that the mill of time had left behind on the sea bed off the Norwegian coast.
As we passed Lygra, I leaned forward to the window, located the cabin in Lurefjorden and pointed it out to Hamre. ‘That’s Mons Mæland’s cabin. And there’s the quay in Feste, where his car was parked.’
Hamre nodded and pointed in the opposite direction. ‘And over there is Hundvin, where the car was found.’
I followed his finger. As the crow flies, it wasn’t far. What had he been doing over there? Had he had a meeting with someone or had he been transported there – after someone had killed him?
Hamre turned right round in his seat and fixed me with a glare. ‘But don’t you get involved, Veum. Not even slightly.’
I nodded, without saying a word, without promising anything, and I saw his eyes flash before he turned round and sat staring ahead for the rest of the trip.
After a short telephone conversation with my insurance company I arranged to pick up a rental car in Flesland. A Corolla, so that I would feel safe, even if it was a much newer model than my own.
Ole Rørdal came back to Bergen with me. He was going to his office in Lille Øvregate, he said. I went home. From there, I called Karin.
‘Oh, thank God. You’re home.’
‘Yes, I was lucky and could take advantage of Hamre’s helicopter service.’ I quickly brought her up to speed on events, then asked: ‘Did you find out anything about Lea, née Rørdal?’
‘Not much more than we already knew. Went missing in 1982. Assumed dead in 1983.’
‘Assumed?’
‘Yes, that’s what it says here.’
‘Well … have you got any plans for the weekend?’
‘Yes, I have actually. Ranveig asked if I’d like to join her at her cabin. She doesn’t want to go there alone.’
‘No, I can understand that.’
‘She wants to go through Mons’ papers. To see whether she can find something useful for what she imagines is going to be a row over the estate with Else and Kristoffer.’
‘When are you going?’
‘I’m going to change into something more practical, then we’ll do some food shopping and make dinner when we’re there. I think it will do her good to think about something different.’
‘Probably.’
‘I’d much rather spend the weekend with you, Varg,’ she added quickly.
‘Me, too. With you, I mean. Now I don’t know quite what to do. My assignment’s as good as finished, but I think I’ll phone Else. After all, she knew Svenson.’
‘OK.’
‘And Karin, I don’t think you should worry too much about Tangenes any more. I’ve spoken to his employer, and I think he got the point, so to speak.’
‘Good,’ she said lightly, unable to conceal the tinge of nervousness in her voice. ‘Look forward to seeing you on Monday then.’
‘Yes, have a good weekend.’
‘Same to you. I’ll be thinking about you.’
‘I know you will.’
After hanging up I called Else Mæland. Her voice was tearful as she answered. I said my name and asked if she wanted an eye-witness’s report. She did.
She opened the door herself when I rang the doorbell this time. Her face was tear-stained, and she was holding a little towel in her hand. It was clear that she had tried to wash the tears from her cheeks but without complete success. Her eyes were bloodshot, and there was a tightness to her mouth as she desperately tried to hide the quivering of her lips. She looked shockingly young, like a confirmand who has just experienced the bitter facts of life for the first time. When she saw the plasters on my face she burst into tears again. So all her efforts had been in vain.
I went inside and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. She hesitated for a moment, then she came close, buried her face in my chest and cried without restraint. I put my arms around her, stroked her back and mumbled softly: ‘There, there … There, there.’ Obviously this death had meant much more to her than the death of her own father.
I cast my eyes around. There was complete silence in the flat. Not a sound to be heard apart from the wracking sobs of the woman in my arms.
After some minutes the sobbing subsided. She gently detached herself and looked at me, ashame
d. ‘I’m sorry, but … this is too unbearable to think about.’
I nodded. ‘Is there no one else here?’
She looked around. ‘No, they’re out … at a party probably. Come in. I’ve put the kettle on. Would you like a cup of tea?’
‘Please.’
I followed her into the kitchen, where she pulled out a chair from under the tiny table by the window, which on this side of the house faced the stream of traffic in Ibsens gate. But now it was Friday evening, and the gaps between cars passing were longer than in the rush hour, straight after work.
She took tea bags from a kitchen drawer, put one in each of the two large mugs and poured hot water from the white kettle. ‘Sugar?’
‘No, thank you.’
‘I think I’ve got a few biscuits if you’re hungry.’
‘No, I’m fine.’
‘I haven’t had a bite of food since I heard.’
‘Who told you?’
‘Ole rang and said.’
‘Your cousin.’
‘Yes.’
‘You didn’t mention a word last time we spoke – or on the island – about you being related.’
‘No. I thought you knew.’
‘I considered you a couple.’
‘Ole and me?’ She gaped in surprise.
‘So it was Stein and you?’
She blinked several times, as if to hold back the tears. Then she gave a nod; it was barely perceptible.
‘I happened to be standing by the window when Ole and you passed by on Tuesday night. I’d seen Ole and Stein arguing on the quay, and I heard Ole say as you passed: “We’re not terrorists for Christ’s sake!”’
She looked at me, expectantly, without saying anything.
‘Were they arguing about sabotaging the bridge?’
She seemed to be mulling over the question, but it was more likely she was weighing up how much she was willing to tell me. ‘Yes, it probably was. Ole was against it.’ Then she hurriedly added: ‘I was, too.’
‘Ole might have been thinking about his mother’s business.’
‘Ole thought about everyone! They’d fought for years and years to get a bridge, and when the very last bridge comes, in a few years’ time, over Brandanger Sound, they’ll be part of the mainland, the whole of Outer Gulen. Blowing up a bridge was like … was like … smashing their own spine. The whole community’s.’
‘But Stein wasn’t bothered about that?’
‘No.’
‘So how did the argument finish?’
‘It didn’t! Stein was annoyed and refused to go back to the cabin. He insisted on sleeping on board the boat instead.’
‘And the next morning he was gone. Until we found him later in the day, all trussed up.’
She didn’t meet my eyes; she stared down at the table. ‘Yes …’
‘Yes?’ I repeated, more insistent now. ‘That might not have come as much of a surprise to you?’
Now she did look up. ‘Oh, yes it did!’
‘So what is it you’re not telling me?’
She swallowed. ‘I …’
I waited. When she didn’t go on, I said: ‘You slept on the boat as well, didn’t you.’
She looked at me and blinked hard once. In a frail voice she answered: ‘Yes …’
She had gone back to the cabin with Ole, got into bed, but she couldn’t sleep. So she had got up again and returned to the boat.
‘How much later was this?’
‘Well, half an hour maybe.’
‘And there was no one else about at this time?’
‘No, who could there be?’
‘Well …’ Trond Tangenes, for example. Or some others.
However, she hadn’t seen anyone, and when she had returned to the boat she had climbed on board, gone down to Stein, who was in bed but couldn’t sleep, either. ‘I stayed there until the morning. But I went back to my room before anyone else had woken up.’
‘Why? You’re adults. You were then as well.’
‘There had been enough arguments as it was. Ole didn’t like us being …’
‘Lovers?’
‘Together.’
‘In other words, you were the last person to see him before he was attacked?’
‘Probably. But the attack …’
‘Yes?’
‘Does it matter now? After all that has happened since? Stein has … gone, and so has Dad …’ Her eyes searched mine helplessly. ‘I simply don’t understand what’s going on here.’
The doorbell rang. She jumped, and I could see her hesitation. She half-stood up and looked at me as if my being there made her feel guilty. The bell rang again. Then she decided and went out. I got up from the chair. Afterwards I heard a voice in the hall. It was Kristoffer, and he would hardly be expecting to meet me here.
31
She had already told him I was there, and there was no sign of surprise in his face when he came through the door, only measured curiosity. ‘Veum …?’
‘Yes, I’m sort of reporting back.’
‘About what happened on Brennøy today?’
‘Yes.’
‘Ah, I can see you were hurt, too.’
‘Nothing that a couple of plasters can’t remedy.’
Kristoffer shook his head. ‘It’s incomprehensible what these groups can get up to! As if what we’re doing is damaging to society, when it’s just the opposite – something future generations will thank us for.’
Else came alongside him. ‘Would you like a cup of tea?’
‘Yes, please.’
‘Well, you go into the sitting room and I’ll be right in. Veum, if you take your cup …’
I nodded and followed Kristoffer into the sitting room. It was furnished as rooms in collectives often are, with a jumble of furniture bought from Fretex, the Salvation Army shop, and an impressive sound system along one wall the only modern feature.
Kristoffer turned to me. ‘What are you actually doing here, Veum?’
‘I was there when the explosive went off. Your sister wanted more information than she had gleaned from the news. Of course she knew the deceased.’
He sighed. ‘Yes …’ Then a twitch seemed to go through him. ‘You were there, you say? Today as well?’
‘Yes, I’d been given an assignment – by someone on your side of the debate – to sniff out what was behind these allegations of irregularities when the land was sold to your father in 1988.’
‘Stine Sagvåg?’
I neither confirmed nor denied his guess.
‘Well … And what did you find out?’
‘So far there’s absolutely nothing to suggest the sale shouldn’t have gone through, and now that Svenson’s dead … I don’t think it’s the biggest problem you have with regard to public opinion.’
‘No? What do you think is then?’ His tone was sarcastic.
‘Logistics, above all else, now that the bridge is in ruins.’
‘We’ll work that out.’
‘And, in addition, a man has sacrificed his life in the fight against the wind turbines. And you’re just going to motor on as before? Good luck, I say. I’m afraid the wind is going to get a lot stronger. Just wait until you read the newspaper headlines tomorrow morning.’
He clenched his teeth. ‘If we’d known this when we bought the land, then …’
‘Do you remember anything about it?’
‘When Dad bought it in 1988? Nothing at all. I was eighteen and probably had other things on my mind.’
Else came in from the kitchen. This time she had brewed the tea in a pot. She poured us all a cup and then sat down. ‘You still haven’t told me what actually happened,’ she said quietly.
‘No, that’s true. We were distracted.’
I told them in the simplest possible terms what I had seen, without going into any detail about the meetings with Bjørn Brekkhus and Gunvor Matre. They sat silently listening to the description of Ole’s arrival, how he and I had run to Brennøy Sound and the bridge,
Ole’s attempt to stop Svenson and finally the moment I would never forget, when the explosive ignited and we were hurled through the air, all three of us.
Else sat with widened eyes, which filled with tears when I came to the explosion. Kristoffer’s face became sterner and sterner.
After I had finished, Else said: ‘But Ole and you … Was he injured?’
‘No more than me. Stein was unlucky and was …’ I paused, ‘crushed by falling concrete.’
Else breathed in sharply. ‘Falling concrete!’
I nodded.
‘Environmental terrorism pure and simple!’ Kristoffer exclaimed. ‘That’s what I’d call it.’
Else looked at him. ‘He was desperate, Kristoffer! It was his commitment that made him act in such a desperate way.’
‘Commitment! But this is an environmental matter, Else! How many times do I have to say it? The wind farm is for the good of the environment.’
Again she looked terribly young. ‘Yes, but not everyone believes that … As if it matters what we believe today.’
For a while we sat without speaking. I took a swig of tea. It tasted of apple and cinnamon. Through the windows we heard the sounds of children playing in the yard. Else looked utterly drained. Kristoffer had sunk into himself; was he wondering what strategy he should choose with regard to public opinion and his contacts at Norcraft and TWO so that the project could be completed without any major delays?
I broke the silence. ‘You went to Ranveig’s yesterday, I heard.’
Else glanced at her brother, then answered: ‘Yes, and? There’s a lot we have to get cleared up.’
‘It wasn’t the most tranquil of meetings, I understand.’
‘Tranquil! That woman has a lot to answer for, I can tell you that.’
‘Yes, she got that point. She said you threatened her.’
‘Threatened?’ Kristoffer leaned across the table. His sister placed a hand on his arm, but he wasn’t to be held back. ‘I’m sorry to have to say this. What she and Dad have on their conscience … If we end up in court there’ll be a washing of dirty laundry she’ll regret having started for years to come.’
We Shall Inherit the Wind Page 20