The hinges shrieked as she grabbed hold of the bars and pulled the door open. She looked around one last time. Presumably he was already here, hidden in the shadows or behind one of the containers, checking that she was alone, as agreed.
But there was no longer time for doubt and hesitation. She did the same thing she did when she was about to lift weights in competition, told herself the decision had been taken, that it was simple: the time for thinking was behind her, and action was all that remained. She got inside, took the padlock she had brought with her out of her pocket, and fastened it round the edge of the door and one of the bars. She locked it and put the key in her pocket.
The cage smelt of urine, but she couldn’t tell if it was animal or human. She went and stood in the middle of the cage.
He could approach from right or left, towards one of the ends. She looked up. He could climb onto the stack of containers and talk to her from above. She switched on the recording function of her phone and put it down on the stinking iron floor. Then she pulled the left sleeve of her jacket up and saw that the time was 19.59. She did the same with the right sleeve. The pulse meter said 128.
‘Hi, Katrine, it’s me.’
‘Good. I’ve been trying to get hold of you – did you get my messages? Where are you?’
‘At home.’
‘Penelope Rasch is dead.’
‘Complications. I saw it on VG’s website.’
‘And?’
‘And I’ve had other things to think about.’
‘Really? Such as?’
‘Rakel’s in Ullevål.’
‘Shit. Is it serious?’
‘Yes.’
‘Bloody hell, Harry. How bad?’
‘Don’t know, but I can’t be part of the investigation any more. I’m going to be at the hospital from now on.’
Pause.
‘Katrine?’
‘Yes? Yes, of course. I’m sorry, it’s just a bit too much to take in all at once. Naturally, you have my full support and sympathy. But, bloody hell, Harry, have you got anyone there to talk to? Do you want me to—?’
‘Thanks, Katrine, but you’ve got a man to catch. I’ll disband my team, and you’ll have to run with what you’ve got. Use Smith. His social skills are probably even worse than mine, but he’s fearless and dares to think outside the box. And Anders Wyller is interesting. Give him a bit more responsibility and see what comes of it.’
‘I’ve been thinking of doing that. Call if you need anything, anything at all.’
‘Yep.’
They ended the call and Harry stood up. Went over to the coffee machine, heard his own feet drag on the floor. He never used to drag his feet, never. He stood with the jug in his hand and looked around the empty kitchen. He’d forgotten where he’d left his mug. He put the jug down again, sat at the kitchen table and rang Mikael Bellman’s number. He reached his voicemail. Which was just as well, he didn’t have much to say.
‘This is Hole. My wife’s ill, so I’m leaving. This decision is final.’
He remained seated and looked out through the window at the lights of the city.
Thought about that one-ton water buffalo standing there with a solitary lion hanging from its throat. The water buffalo was bleeding from its wounds, but it had a lot of blood, and if it could just shake the lion off, it could easily trample it underfoot or spear it on its horns. But time was running out, its windpipe was being squeezed and it needed air. And there were more lions on the way, the pride had caught the scent of blood.
Harry saw the lights, but thought they had never seemed so far away.
The engagement ring. Valentin had given her a ring, and had come back. Just like the Fiancé. Damn. He pushed it away. Time to switch his head off now. Turn the lights off, lock up and go home.
It was 20.14 when Mona heard a noise. It came from the darkness, which had grown more dense while she had been sitting inside the cage. She saw a movement. Something was approaching. She had been through the questions she had prepared and wondered what she was most frightened of: him coming, or not coming. But she was no longer in any doubt. She felt her pulse throbbing in her neck and clutched the pistol in her jacket pocket. She had practised firing it in her parents’ basement, and from a distance of six metres she had hit what she’d been aiming at, a half-rotten raincoat hanging from a hook on the brick wall.
It came out of the darkness and into the light from a freight ship that was moored by the cement silos a few hundred metres away.
It was a dog.
It padded over to the cage and stared at her.
It looked like a stray. It didn’t have a collar, anyway, and was so skinny and scabby that it was hard to imagine it belonging anywhere but here. It was the sort of dog little Mona with her cat allergy had always hoped would follow her home one day, and never leave her.
Mona met the dog’s short-sighted stare, and imagined that she could see what it was thinking. A human being in a cage. And heard it laugh inside.
After looking at her for a while, the dog positioned itself parallel to the cage, lifted one back leg, and a stream of liquid hit the bars and floor inside.
Then it padded away and disappeared back into the darkness.
Without pricking its ears or sniffing the air.
And Mona realised.
There was no one coming.
She looked at the pulse meter. 119. And falling.
He wasn’t here. So where was he?
Harry could see something in the darkness.
In the middle of the drive, beyond the light from the windows and by the steps, he could make out the shape of someone standing with their arms by their sides, motionless, as they stared at the kitchen window and Harry.
Harry lowered his head and looked down at his mug of coffee as if he hadn’t seen the figure outside. His pistol was upstairs.
Should he run and get it?
On the other hand, if it really was the hunted man who was approaching the hunter, he didn’t want to frighten him off.
Harry stood up, stretched, aware that he was easily visible in the well-lit kitchen. He went into the living room, which also had windows facing the driveway, picked up a book, before taking two rapid strides towards the front door, grabbing the garden shears Rakel had left next to her boots, yanking the door open and running down the steps.
The figure still didn’t move.
Harry stopped.
Peered.
‘Aurora?’
Harry rummaged through the kitchen cupboard. ‘Cardamom, cinnamon, camomile. Rakel has a lot of teas starting with “c”, but seeing as I’m a coffee drinker I don’t really know what to recommend.’
‘Cinnamon would be fine,’ Aurora said.
‘Here,’ Harry said, handing her a box.
She took out a tea bag and Harry watched her as she dunked it in the mug of steaming water.
‘You ran off from Police HQ the other day,’ he said.
‘Yes,’ she said simply, pressing the tea bag with a teaspoon.
‘And from the bus stop earlier today.’
She didn’t answer, her hair had fallen in front of her face.
He sat down, took a sip of coffee. Gave her the time she needed, didn’t fill the silence with words that demanded answers.
‘I didn’t see it was you,’ she said eventually. ‘Well, I did see, but by then I was already scared, and it often takes a bit of time for your brain to tell your body that everything’s fine. And in the meantime my body had already managed to run away.’
‘Mm. Is there someone you’re afraid of?’
She nodded. ‘It’s Dad.’
Harry steeled himself, he didn’t want to go on, didn’t want to go there. But he had to.
‘What’s your dad done?’
Tears welled up in her eyes. ‘He raped me and said I must never tell anyone. Because then he would die …’
The nausea came so suddenly that Harry lost his breath for a moment, and bile burned in his throat when he swallowed. ‘Your dad said he would die?’