Berg stared around the living room. The sheet that passed as a curtain hung sloppily over the only window. It was dark out now, but with the single overhead bulb glowing a dull orange, Berg imagined the room was as gloomy and depressing as this even on a sunny summer’s day. The brown carpet had stains all over, patches of fabric mottled and stuck together from spillages of who knew what. The mucky brown velvet sofa was threadbare and sunken. The cheap coffee table was littered with dirty plates, used cups and glasses and empty beer bottles. The room looked like it belonged to a bunch of teenage, drug-abusing dropouts.
Berg turned to Erling whose large frame took up virtually the entire doorway. He was in a sulk. Apparently, even behemoths like him could have pathetic whiny tantrums when they didn’t get what they wanted, or when things didn’t go their way.
‘What?’ Erling said, a challenge in his tone.
‘How can you stand this place?’ Berg asked.
Erling shrugged. ‘It’s not that bad. It needs cleaning, but so what? It’s not supposed to be five-star. Do you know how boring it is sitting here for hours on end watching that little idiot?’
‘Sounds really challenging. Is that why you let a fourteen-year-old escape? From three grown men? Because you were all too bored to stop him?’
Erling glowered and cracked his knuckles. ‘I told you already. He had help.’
‘Yes. The mystery man. Who managed to evade you, your useless friends, and a pack of dogs, on foot, through snow and ice.’
Erling said nothing now.
‘Talk me through it again,’ Berg said, moving toward Erling. The big man stood out of the way and Berg walked into the corridor, glancing in and out of the poky rooms as he headed on. Each space was equally gloomy, messy, and stuffy as the living room.
Erling gave his recollection. The mystery man turning up, unannounced. The same one Erling had encountered at the logging site the previous day, asking questions about Lindstrom’s Nissan. He explained, once again, how the man had felled Erling, Lindstrom, and Jan, another useless lump. The boy had bitten Erling. So, too, had the mystery man – Carl Logan? A boot to Erling’s head had opened a gash that needed stitches. He’d already shown Berg all of the scratches and cuts as if they were explanation enough for what had happened. Erling concluded the retelling with the failed chase through the forest which culminated in the unlikely escape. More like a disappearance, as if man and boy had vanished in a puff of smoke.
‘Is there any part of this story that doesn’t make you sound like a clueless moron?’ Berg asked, turning to face Erling as they stepped out onto the deck.
Erling glowered – one thing he remained very good at – but said nothing.
‘What do you know about this man?’ Berg asked.
‘I already told you his name, and what he looked like.’
‘That’s it?’
‘No. We also found his car. Over in the woods, that way.’ Erling indicated with his chewed-up hand. ‘Rented. From a shop in Trondheim.’
‘He hasn’t been back for it?’
‘Not much point. We burned it out.’
‘You did what? Why—’
‘We searched it first,’ Erling said, enough to bring Berg’s rising temperature down a notch.
‘And?’
Erling dug in his coat pocket and handed a little dark blue booklet over. Berg knew even before he looked that it was a passport.
British.
‘So that confirms his name, at least. But who the hell is Carl Logan?’
Erling shrugged. Berg pocketed the passport.
‘I need that boy,’ Berg said. ‘You’ll get nothing from me otherwise.’
‘I’ve had nothing from you so far anyway.’
Berg raised an eyebrow. Was Erling seriously questioning his integrity?
‘You’ll get what you’re owed when you’ve done what was asked.’
Erling mumbled under his breath.
‘Is anyone watching the car? In case our mystery man goes back there.’
‘They were. But what’s the point of having someone there, in the cold, day and night?’
‘What’s the point? What’s the point?! Are you fucking serious? In case he goes back there looking for his fucking car, you stupid, ham-fisted imbecile!’
Erling bared his teeth like a dog. For a fleeting second, Berg became seriously worried his impromptu outburst had sent Erling over the edge. The big man was an underling, he knew his place, but everyone could be pushed too far, and as dumb as he was, Erling could crush Berg into the ground if he wanted to.
The next second the scramble and rustle of tires on the dirt track floated over. A new arrival.
‘Put someone out in the forest day and night,’ Berg said, reverting to authority – exactly what Erling needed. ‘And call me if you see or hear anything of the boy or his new companion.’
Erling didn’t respond. Berg walked off, around the side of the house, to the front where the police car pulled up. Wold, on his own. He got out of the car.
‘Quite a day, from what I hear,’ he said in his naturally condescending tone. Or was it natural? Perhaps he practiced it at home every night, in front of the mirror, because he had nothing better to do and no woman to screw.
‘We’ll find him,’ Berg said. ‘Both of them.’
‘That’s twice the kid has gotten away from you now.’
Was Wold questioning Berg’s aptitude?
‘From me?’
‘You know what I mean.’
Berg said nothing.
‘Lucky last time I was around to help,’ Wold added.
‘Yes, thank you, Inspector. Your impeccable duty hasn’t gone unnoticed.’
Wold’s eyes narrowed. ‘Careful, Sigurd. You might run these guys like your own little kingdom, but you don’t tell me what to do. You don’t own me.’
Berg ignored that. ‘We have this.’ Berg moved over to the policeman and drew the passport from his pocket. He handed it over.
Wold took one look. ‘I could have guessed.’
‘You know him?’
‘I ran into him the other day. More than once. The last time Henrik tried to get away.’
Berg already knew all about that and wasn’t interested in hearing Wold’s take.
‘Find out everything you can about him,’ he said. ‘Actually, no, just find him. Bring him here.’
Wold glared, it was clear the inspector didn’t like to be told what to do. Especially not by Berg. But he’d got himself into this mess. He might have been on the outside, looking in, but he was still part of it.
‘I want this over with. As soon as possible,’ Wold said. ‘The longer this goes on, the more damage it does.’
‘Damage? To you?’
Wold held Berg’s eye.
‘You want this over?’ Berg said. ‘Find Henrik. And find Carl Logan.’
Berg brushed past him and headed for his car.