Don't Look Back (32 page)

Halvor stopped and glanced at him, looking almost offended.

"I'm not done yet. I have more." He dug farther into his wallet.

"No, you don't! You live in an old shack with your grandmother, and you deliver ice cream! It costs 44,000," he said sharply. "You'd better cough up the money right now...."

"So you know where I live?" Halvor looked at him. Things were starting to get dangerous, but he wasn't scared; for some reason he wasn't scared at all.

"I do have this," he said suddenly, pulling something out of the slot for banknotes in his wallet. Johnas stared at him suspiciously, casting a dubious eye at what he was holding between two fingers.

"It's a disk," Halvor said.

"I don't want a disk; I want 44,000 kroner," Johnas snapped, feeling fear begin to hack at his chest.

"Annie's diary," Halvor said, waving the disk. "She started keeping a diary a while ago. In November, as a matter of fact. We've been looking for it, several of us. You know how girls are: always having to confide things."

Johnas was breathing hard. His gaze was aimed at Halvor like an arrow.

"I've read it," Halvor said. "It's about you."

"Give it to me!"

"Not until hell freezes over!"

Johnas gave a start. Halvor's voice had changed tone and was suddenly deeper. It was like listening to an evil spirit speaking through the mouth of a child.

"I've made copies of it," he said. "So I can buy as many carpets as I want. Every time I feel like having a new carpet, I'll just make another copy. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"You hysterical little brat! What kind of institution did you escape from?"

Johnas steeled himself, and in a fraction of a second Halvor saw his torso swell up as he prepared to spring. He weighed about forty-five pounds more than Halvor, and he was furious. Halvor dove to the side and saw the man miss his target and slide along the stone floor, slamming headfirst into the drop-leaf table. The coins scattered in all directions, jangling as they struck the floor. Johnas began to spew out the ugliest curses Halvor had ever heard, even taking into account his father's extensive vocabulary. In two seconds he was back on his feet. A single glance at his dark face made Halvor realize that the battle was lost. He was much bigger. Halvor made for the stairs, but Johnas was after him at once, taking three or four steps, and then lunging forward. He rammed into Halvor's back at shoulder level. Instinctively the boy kept his head up, but his body struck the stone floor with great force.

"Take your fucking hands off me!"

Johnas turned him over. Halvor felt the man's breath on his face and his hands tightening around his throat.

"You're out of your mind!" he said. "You're done for! I don't care what you do to me, but you're done for!"

Johnas was deaf and blind. He raised his clenched fist and took aim at the lean face. Halvor had been beaten before and knew what was in store for him. The knuckles struck him under the chin, and his fragile jaw snapped like dry tinder. His lower teeth struck with powerful force against his upper teeth, and tiny bits of crushed porcelain mixed with the blood that
came gushing out of his mouth. Johnas kept on pounding him, no longer taking aim, merely striking out at random as Halvor flung his body from side to side. Finally Johnas smashed his fist against the stone floor and howled, lurched to his feet and stared at his hand, panting. There was a great deal of blood. He stared at what was lying on the floor and took a long, deep breath. After a few minutes his heartbeat returned to normal and his mind cleared.

"He's not here," said the grandmother, surprised, when Sejer and Skarre appeared at her door. "He was going out to visit somebody. I think his name was Johnas. He was all upset too, and he hadn't eaten anything. I don't know what's going on any more, and I'm too old to keep up with everything."

The news made Sejer pound his fist twice against the door frame.

"Did he get a phone call or anything like that?"

"Nobody calls us. Annie was the only one who called, every once in a while. He's been sitting in his room all afternoon, playing with his computer. Suddenly he stormed out and disappeared."

"I'm sure we'll find him. You have to excuse us, but we're in a hurry."

"Of all things," he said to Skarre as he slammed the car door, "this was the worst he could have done."

"We'll soon see what's happened," Skarre said, tight-lipped, and spun the car around in the yard.

"I don't see Halvor's motorcycle."

Skarre jumped out. Sejer turned to Kollberg, who was still lying on the backseat, and took a dog biscuit from his pocket.

They pulled on the door, which swung slowly open, and they found themselves glaring defiantly at the video camera near the ceiling. Johnas saw them from the kitchen. For a
moment he remained sitting at the ship's table, breathing calmly, as he blew on his injured knuckles. There was no rush. One thing at a time. True, a lot was happening all at once; even so, he was used to being able to take care of everything. He was a very capable man. Took each problem one at a time, as they cropped up. It was one of his special skills. Very calmly he stood up and proceeded to walk down the stairs.

"You're certainly getting around," he said. "It's beginning to border on harassment."

"Do you really think so?"

Sejer loomed in front of him like a giant pillar. Everything looked presentable; there were no other customers in the gallery.

"We're looking for someone. We thought we might find him here."

Johnas gave them an inquiring look, turned to glance around the room, then threw out his hands. "I'm the only one here. And I was just about to close up. It's late."

"We'd like to take a look. We'll be quick, of course."

"Frankly..."

"Maybe he slipped inside when you weren't looking and is hiding somewhere. You never know."

Sejer was trembling, and Skarre thought it looked as though a great storm were gathering force under his shirt.

"I'm closing up now!" Johnas said.

They walked past him and up the stairs, took a good look around, went into the office, opened the door to the toilet, continued on up to the attic. No one in sight.

"Who did you expect to find here?"

Johnas was leaning against the banister, studying them with one eyebrow raised. His chest was rising and falling visibly.

"Halvor Muntz."

"And who is that?"

"Annie's boyfriend."

"Why would he come here?"

"I'm not sure."

Unperturbed, Sejer wandered around the gallery. "But he hinted that he was coming here. He's been playing detective on his own, and I think we ought to put a stop to it."

"I agree wholeheartedly," Johnas said, with a condescending smile. "But there hasn't been anyone playing Hardy Boys here."

Sejer kicked at the rolled-up carpets with the tip of his shoe. "Does this building have a basement?"

"No."

"What do you do with the carpets at night? Do you leave them out?"

"Most of them, yes. But I put the most expensive ones in the vault."

"I see."

Suddenly he caught sight of the small mahogany table, beneath which a handful of coins lay scattered.

"Are you always so careless with your small change?" he asked.

Johnas shrugged. Sejer didn't like the fact that it was so quiet He didn't like the expression on the carpet dealer's face In a corner of the room he noticed a pink bucket with a scrub brush next to it The floor was damp "Have you been washing the floor?" he asked.

"It's the last thing I do before I close up the shop I save a lot of money by doins it myself As you can see " he said after a moment, "there's nobody here."'

Sejer looked at him "Show us the vault"

For a moment Johnas looked as if he might refuse but then he changed his mind and started heading down the stairs.

"It's on the first floor You can see it of course though naturally it's locked and it would be impossible to hide inside "

They followed him down to the first floor to a corner under the stairs, where they saw a steel door, quite low but much wider than a normal door. Johnas went over and twisted the dial of a combination lock back and forth. With every twist a tiny click was audible. He was using his left hand, a little clumsily.

"Is this boy so valuable that you think I would hide him in here?"

"Possibly," said Sejer, staring at the clumsy left hand. Johnas gripped the handle of the heavy door and pulled with all his might.

"I'm sure it would be easier if you used both hands," Sejer said.

Johnas raised an eyebrow, as if he didn't understand. Sejer peered into the cramped space, which contained a small safe, two or three paintings leaning against the wall, and a number of rolled carpets stacked up on the floor like logs.

"That's all there is." He gave them a belligerent look. The vault was brightly lighted by two long fluorescent tubes in the ceiling. The walls were bare.

Sejer smiled. "But he was here, wasn't he? What did he want?"

"Nobody's been here, except for you two."

Sejer nodded and walked out of the vault. Skarre cast him an uneasy glance, but followed him to the outer door.

"If he happens to turn up, would you contact us immediately?" Sejer said. "He's been going through a difficult time lately after all that's happened. He needs help."

"Of course."

The vault door slammed shut.

Out in the parking lot, Sejer signaled for Skarre to drive.

"Drive up the hill and pull into that driveway at the top. Do you see it?"

Skarre nodded.

"Park there. We'll wait until he leaves and then follow him. I want to see where he's going."

They didn't have long to wait. No more than five minutes passed before Johnas suddenly appeared in the doorway. He locked up, activated the burglar alarm, walked past the Citroen, and disappeared down the driveway to a back courtyard. He was out of sight for a few minutes, then reappeared in an old Transit truck. He stopped at the street and signaled left. Sejer could clearly hear the roaring of the engine.

"Ah, yes, he would have a delivery truck," Skarre said.

"With one cylinder gone. It's roaring like an old fishing boat. Let's get going, but be careful. He's making for the intersection down there; don't get too close."

"Can you see if he's looking in his rearview mirror?" Skarre said.

"He's not. Let that Volvo get ahead of you, Skarre, that green one!"

The Volvo braked, but Skarre waved it on ahead of them. The driver saluted in thanks.

"He's signaling right. Get over in the right lane! Where do you think he's going?"

"Possibly to Oscarsgaten. The man's in the middle of moving, isn't he? Careful now, he's slowing down. Watch out for that beer truck. If it gets in front of you, we'll lose him!"

"Easy for you to say. When are you going to get yourself a more powerful car?"

"He's slowing down again. I bet he's heading for Borresensgaten. Let's hope the Volvo is going the same way."

Johnas drove the big vehicle gently and smoothly through town, as if not wanting to attract attention. He signaled and changed gear as he approached Oscarsgaten, and now they could clearly see him looking in his rearview mirror several times.

"He's stopping at the yellow building. It's number 15. Pull over, Skarre!"

"Right here?"

"Turn off the engine. He's getting out now."

Johnas jumped out of the truck, looked around, and crossed the street with long strides. Sejer and Skarre stared at the door where he stood fumbling with a key. He was carrying a toolbox.

"He's going up to his apartment. We'll wait here for the time being. As soon as he's inside, slip out and run over to his truck. I want you to peek in through the back window."

"What do you think he has in there?"

"I don't even dare guess what it might be. OK, now. Hurry!"

Skarre ran bent double like an old man, ducking behind a row of parked cars. He appeared again at the back of the truck, and put a hand on either side of his face to see better. Within seconds he turned and came sprinting back, threw himself into the driver's seat, and slammed the door.

"A pile of carpets. And what looks like Halvor's Suzuki. It's in the truck with the helmet on the handlebars. Shall we go up?"

"Absolutely not. We're just going to sit here. If I'm right, he won't be long."

"And then we'll keep following him?"

"That depends."

"Is there a light on anywhere?"

"Not that I can see. There he is now!"

They ducked down and peered at Johnas, who had paused on the sidewalk. Now he looked up and down the street and at the long row of cars parked on the left-hand side. He didn't see anyone in any of them. He went over to the Transit truck, got in, started the engine, and began backing up. Skarre stuck his head up over the dashboard.

"What's he doing?" asked Sejer.

"He's backing up. Now he's moving forward. He's backing across the street and parking right in front of the entrance. He's getting out. He's at the back door of the truck. Now he's opening it. Taking out a rolled-up carpet. Crouching down and putting it over his shoulder. He's swaying under the weight. It looks like it's god-awful heavy!"

"Christ, he's going to fall over!"

Johnas teetered under the weight of the carpet. His knees seemed about to give way under him.

Sejer put his hand on the door handle. "He's going back inside. He's probably trying to put it in the elevator. Keep your eye on the front of the building, Skarre. See if he turns on a light!"

Kollberg started to whine.

"Be quiet, boy!" Sejer turned and patted the dog. They waited, peering at the facade of the building and the dark windows.

"There's a light on the fourth floor now. His apartment is there, right below that protrusion. Can you see it?"

Sejer stared up at the wall. The yellow window had no curtains.

"Shouldn't we go up?" Skarre asked.

"Don't be too hasty. Johnas is clever. We should wait a bit."

"Wait for what?"

"The light has gone off again. Maybe he's coming out. Get down, Skarre!"