‘Shoot…’
Harry filled the beaker with water, turned and went over to Sven Sivertsen. He put the beaker on the floor in front of him and unlocked his handcuffs. Sivertsen rubbed his wrists.
‘Drink up,’ Harry said. ‘Then you can have a smoke before I put the cuffs back on.’
Sven hesitated. Harry looked at his watch. He still had half an hour left.
‘Come on, Sivertsen.’
Sven took the beaker, put his head back and emptied it while keeping an eye on Harry.
Harry put a cigarette between his lips and lit it before giving it to Sivertsen.
‘You don’t believe me, do you?’ Harry said. ‘You think the opposite, that Tom Waaler is the one who’s going to rescue you from this – what shall we call it? – tiresome situation, don’t you? That he’ll take a risk as a reward to you for long and loyal service to his wallet. With all you’ve got on him, the worst that can happen is that you can blackmail him into helping you.’
Harry gently shook his head. ‘I thought you were smart, Sivertsen. All these puzzles you set up, the way you stage-managed everything, with you always one step ahead. All this and I imagined someone who knew exactly what we would think and what we would do. But you aren’t even up to understanding how a shark like Waaler operates.’
‘You’re right,’ Sivertsen said, blowing smoke up at the ceiling with his eyes half closed. ‘I don’t believe you.’
Sivertsen tapped at the cigarette. The ash fell outside the plastic beaker he was holding underneath.
Harry wondered if it was a crack he could see. But then he had seen cracks before and had been wrong.
‘Did you know that colder weather is forecast?’ Harry asked.
‘I don’t follow Norwegian news.’ Sivertsen smirked. The man apparently thought that he had won.
‘Rain,’ Harry said. ‘How was the water, by the way?’
‘Like water.’
‘Joseph’s Blessing does what it’s supposed to, then.’
‘Joseph’s what?’
‘Blessing. No taste and no smell. You seem to know about the product. You might even have smuggled it in for him? From Chechnya to Prague to Oslo?’ Harry smirked. ‘That’s an irony of fate.’
‘What are you talking about?’
Harry threw something high in the air over to Sivertsen, which he caught and inspected.
‘It’s empty…’ He sent Harry a searching look.
‘Skal.’
‘What?’
‘Best wishes from our mutual boss, Tom Waaler.’
Harry blew the smoke through his nose while watching Sivertsen.
The involuntary twitch of his brow. The Adam’s apple bobbling up and down. The fingers that suddenly needed to scratch his chin.
‘With you under suspicion of committing four murders you should be sitting in a high-security prison, Sivertsen. Have you thought about that? Instead of that you’re in a standard detention cell where anyone with a police badge can walk in and out as they like. As a detective I could have taken you out, told the guard on duty that I was taking you for questioning, signed you out with some scrawl and then given you a plane ticket to Prague. Or – as in this case – to hell. Who do you think arranged for you to be here, Sivertsen? How do you feel, by the way?’
Sivertsen gulped. Crack. Major crack.
‘Why are you telling me this?’ he whispered.
Harry shrugged his shoulders.
‘Waaler restricts what he tells his underlings and, as you know, I’m curious by nature. Do you, like me, want to see the big picture, Sivertsen? Or are you one of those who believe that you’ll get the full enlightenment when you’re dead? Fine. My problem is that, in my case, that’s still quite a long wait…’
Sivertsen went pale.
‘Another smoke?’ Harry asked. ‘Or are you beginning to feel nauseous?’
Sivertsen opened his mouth, seemingly on cue, tossed his head to the side and the next moment yellow vomit splattered against the brick wall. He sat gasping for breath.
Harry glared at the drips that had ricocheted onto his trousers, went to the sink, tore paper off the roll, tore off another piece and gave it to Sivertsen. Sivertsen dried his mouth. Then his head slumped forward and he hid his face in his hands. His voice was tearful as he finally opened up:
‘When I came into the hallway… I was confused, but, naturally, I understood that he was playacting. He winked at me and twisted his head in such a way that I was meant to interpret the shouts as meant for someone else. It took me a few seconds to understand the scene. What I thought was the scene. I thought… I thought he wanted it to sound as if I was armed so that he had a reason for letting me get away. He had two guns. I thought the other one was for me. So that I was armed in case anyone saw us. I just stood there waiting for him to give me the gun. Then that bloody woman came and ruined everything.’
Harry had taken up his stance with his back to the wall again.
‘So you admit that you knew the police were after you in connection with the courier killings?’
Sivertsen shook his head.
‘No, no, I’m no murderer. I thought I’d been arrested for smuggling arms. And the diamonds. I knew that Waaler was in charge of all of this and that was why everything was going so smoothly. And that was why he was trying to let me get away. I have to…’
More vomit splashed on the floor, a greener colour this time.
Harry handed him more paper.
Sivertsen began to sob.
‘How much time do I have left?’
‘That depends,’ Harry said.
‘On what?’
Harry stubbed out his cigarette on the floor, put his hand into his pocket and played his trump card.
‘Do you see this?’
He held up a white pill between his thumb and first finger. Sivertsen nodded.
‘If you take this within ten minutes of drinking Joseph’s Blessing there is a reasonable chance that you’ll survive. I got this from a friend who works with pharmaceutical products. Why, I’m sure you’re wondering. Well, because I want to strike a deal with you. I want you to testify against Tom Waaler and to say everything you know about his arms smuggling dealings.’
‘Yes, yes. Just give me the pill.’
‘But can I trust you, Sivertsen?’
‘I swear.’
‘I need a carefully considered answer, Sivertsen. How do I know that you won’t change sides again as soon as I’m out of sight?’
‘What?’
Harry put the pill back in his pocket.
‘The seconds are ticking away. Why should I trust you, Sivertsen? Give me one good reason.’
‘Now?’
‘The Blessing stops you breathing. Extremely painful according to those who have seen people take it.’
Sivertsen blinked twice before he began to speak:
‘You have to trust me because that’s the logical follow-on. If I don’t die this evening, Tom Waaler will know that I’ve uncovered his plan to kill me. And then there’s no way back. He’ll have to get me before I get him. I simply don’t have a choice.’
‘Well done, Sivertsen. Go on.’
‘I haven’t got a chance in here. I’ll be done for long before they come to get me early tomorrow. My only chance is if Waaler is exposed and put behind bars as soon as possible. And the only person who can help me is… you.’
‘Bullseye. Congratulations,’ Harry said, getting up. ‘Hands behind your back, please.’
‘But…’