Nemesis

The woman shrugged her shoulders, bewildered.

'Say it's Harry.'

She shook her head and waved him away.

Harry leaned over to the glass separating them. 'Say it's the spiuni gjerman.'

***

Simon drove down Enebakkveien instead of taking the long Ekeberg tunnel.

'I don't like tunnels, you know,' he explained as they crept up the side of the mountain at snail's pace in the afternoon rush hour.

'So the two brothers who had run away to Norway and grown up together in a caravan fell out because they were in love with the same girl?' Harry said.

'Maria came from a very respectable Lovarra family. They lived in Sweden where her daddy was the bulibas. She married Stefan and moved to Oslo when she was just thirteen and he was eighteen. Stefan was so in love with her he would have died for her. At that time Raskol was in hiding in Russia, you know. Not from the police, but from some Kosovo-Albanians in Germany who thought he had cheated them in some business.'

'Business?'

'They found an empty trailer by the autobahn near Hamburg.' Simon smiled.

'But Raskol returned?'

'One sunny May day he returned to Tшyen. That was when Maria and he saw each other for the first time.' Simon laughed. 'My God, how they stared at each other. I had to inspect the heavens to see if thunder was on its way, the air was so tense.'

'So they fell for each other?'

'In seconds. While everyone was watching. Some of the women were embarrassed.'

'But if it was so obvious, the relatives must have reacted, didn't they?'

'They didn't think it was so dangerous. You mustn't forget we marry earlier than you do, you know. We cannot stop the young ones. They fall in love. Thirteen, you can imagine…'

'I can.' Harry rubbed the back of his neck.

'But this was a serious business, you see. She was married to Stefan and loved Raskol from the first day she saw him. And even though she and Stefan lived in their own caravan, she met Raskol, who was there the whole time. So things took the course they had to take. When Anna was born, only Stefan and Raskol were not aware Raskol was the father.'

'Poor girl.'

'And poor Raskol. The only person who was happy was Stefan. He walked three metres tall, you know. He said Anna was as good-looking as her daddy.' Stefan smiled with sad eyes. 'Perhaps it could have gone on like that. If Stefan and Raskol hadn't decided to rob a bank.'

'And it went wrong?'

The queue of cars moved towards Ryen crossroads.

'There were three of them. Stefan was the oldest, so he was the first in and the last out. While the other two ran out with the money to fetch the getaway car, Stefan stayed inside the bank with his pistol raised so they would not set off the alarm. They were amateurs, they didn't even know that the bank had a silent alarm. When they drove up to collect Stefan, he was stretched out over the bonnet of a police car. One officer had put handcuffs on him. Raskol was driving. He was only seventeen and didn't even have a licence. He rolled down the window. With three thousand on the back seat, he slowly drove up to the police car where his brother was struggling on the bonnet. Then Raskol and the officer had eye contact. My God, the air was as thick as when he and Maria met. Their mutual staring went on for ever. I was frightened Raskol would yell, but he didn't say a word. He just drove on. That was the first time they saw each other.'

'Raskol and Jшrgen Lшnn?'

Simon nodded. They came off the roundabout and went into the bend in Ryen. Simon signalled then braked by a petrol station. They pulled up in front of a twelve-storey building. The DnB logo flashed from a blue neon sign over the entrance nearby.

'Stefan got four years because he had fired his gun in the air,' Simon said. 'But after the trial, you know, something odd happens. Raskol visits Stefan in Botsen and the day after one of the guards says he thinks the new prisoner has changed appearance. His superior says it's normal for first-time prisoners. He tells him about wives who haven't recognised their own husbands on their first visit. The guard is reassured, but a few days later a woman phones the prison. She says they have the wrong prisoner. Stefan Baxhet's little brother has taken his place and they have to let the prisoner go.'

'Is that really true?' Harry asks, pulling out his lighter and putting it to the end of his cigarette. 'Yes, it is,' Simon says. 'It's quite normal among gypsies in southern Europe for the younger sibling, or the son, to serve the convicted person's sentence, if he has a family to feed. As Stefan did. For us, it is a matter of honour, you know.'

'But the authorities would soon discover the mistake, wouldn't they?'

'Hah!' Simon threw out his arms. 'For you a gypsy is a gypsy. If he's in prison for something he didn't do, he's sure to have been guilty of something else.'

'Who rang in?'

'They never found out, but Maria vanished the same night. They never saw her again. The police drove Raskol to Tшyen in the middle of the night and Stefan was dragged kicking and swearing out of the caravan. Anna was two years old and lay in bed screaming for her mummy and there was no one, no man and no woman, who could stop her howling. Until Raskol went in and lifted her up.'

They stared at the entrance to the bank. Harry glanced at his watch. Only a couple of minutes until it closed. 'What happened then?'

'When Stefan had served his sentence, he immediately left the country. I talked to him on the phone now and then. He travelled a lot.'

'And Anna?'

'She grew up in the caravan, you know. Raskol sent her to school. She had gadjo friends. Gadjo habits. She didn't want to live like us; she wanted to do what her friends did-make her own decisions, earn her own money and have her own place to live. Since she inherited her grandmother's flat and moved into Sorgenfrigata, we haven't had anything to do with her. She…well, she chose to move. The only person she had any contact with was Raskol.'

'Do you think she knew he was her father?'

Simon shrugged. 'As far as I know, no one said anything, but I'm sure she knew.'

They sat in silence.

'This is where it happened,' Simon said.

'Just before closing time,' Harry said. 'Like now.'

'He wouldn't have shot Lшnn if he hadn't been forced to,' Simon said. 'But he does what he has to do. He's a warrior, you know.'

'No giggling concubines.'

'What?'

'Nothing. Where is Stefan, Simon?'

'I don't know.'

Harry waited. They watched a bank employee lock the door from the inside. Harry continued to wait.

'The last time I talked to him, he was ringing from a town in Sweden,' Simon said. 'Gothenburg. That's all I can help you with.'

'It's not me you're helping.'

'I know,' Simon sighed. 'I know.'

***

Harry found the yellow house in Vetlandsveien. The lights on both floors were lit. He parked, got out and stood looking at the metro station. That was where they had met on the first dark autumn evenings to go apple scrumping. Sigge, Tore, Kristian, Torkild, Шystein and Harry. That was the fixed team line-up. They had cycled to Nordstrand because the apples were bigger there and the chances of anyone knowing your father smaller. Sigge had climbed over the fence first and Шystein had kept lookout. Harry had been the tallest and could reach the biggest apples. One evening, however, they hadn't felt like cycling so far and they had gone scrumping in their local neighbourhood.

Harry looked across at the garden on the other side of the road.

They had already filled their pockets when he had discovered the face staring down at them from the illuminated window on the first floor. Without saying a word. It was Kebab.

Harry opened the gate and went up to the door. JШRGEN AND KRISTIN LШNN was painted on the porcelain sign over the two bells. Harry rang the top one.