He’s soaked through with rain and quivering, he’s bleeding from his mouth and every few seconds he gasps for air like there isn’t enough oxygen in the car. He’s older than you, bigger, one of those gangling types with shoulder-length hair that everyone likes. They write poems, listen to Damien Rice, and are adored by all the girls because they’re so understanding. You must weigh twice as much as he does. Muscles versus brain. You grab the back of his neck and shake him. He starts whimpering. Fine. Now he knows who’s in charge here. He stinks. The inside of the car fills with his smell and you remember the night three days ago when the gang roughed you up and Mirko ran away. You smelled just as bad when that happened, and even after a shower the stench didn’t leave you and clung to your hands.
You don’t want to think about Mirko, but your thoughts do what they want. You try to imagine one of the girls putting a gun to his head and then BOOM. The picture refuses to come into focus, as if it’s trying to deny reality, but you’ll find out what really happened. In detail. Which of the girls shot him, what she was thinking as she did so. And you will smell the same smell on her skin.
The doors open. Your father and Tanner get in. Your father slips in next to the boy. They’ve just been looking through the Range Rover and they’ve come back out empty-handed. Now their heavy breathing fills the interior of the car. Tanner opens the window a little to let the stench out. Leo starts the engine and turns on the heating. Your father asks the boy what his name is. The boy tells him.
“Okay, Marten, I’d like you to listen to me very closely now. I need to know how you’re involved with the girls.”
The boy tells you, stammering and nervous. How he thought the girls had problems with their car. How they had coffee together and then went off to the restroom and a moment later stole his father’s car. How he came running out.
“But they were gone.”
You nod. The story makes sense, it fits those sluts, but your father doesn’t like it. He has a very different question.
“And why did you get into the Range Rover?”
The boy says it was raining and the driver’s door had been open, so he’d thought he could get in.
“They left me the key.”
He shouldn’t have said that. It sounds so false that you want to knock his teeth out. Your father asks Tanner what he thinks. Tanner says it sounds ridiculous. Me too, you think, and say, “What if he’s just putting on a show and they’re all in it together?”
Back in Berlin, Tanner suggested that the girls had probably had help. The way it looks, Neil Exner wasn’t the only one supporting those bitches. You take the same line. Your father gives you a look of approval. It’s good that you’re adding your bit.
“Maybe his job was to get rid of the Range Rover,” you say.
The boy shrinks by nine inches. Your father asks him if he knows where the girls were going. The boy doesn’t react. His eyes are shut tight, he for sure wishes the day would start over again and he would wake up in his bed. You grab the back of his neck again. He recoils and whimpers. Snot flows from his nose, Tanner and Leo turn round for the first time. This is going on too long for them. Your father repeats the question.
“Where were they going?”
“To the north … I think … They … they wanted to get to a beach hotel … on a fjord …”
You’re impressed. It’s a mystery to you how your father could have known where the girls were going. You admire him so much it hurts.
“She inherited it,” the boy adds.
“Who inherited what?” your father asks.
“Taja, she inherited the hotel.”
Leo whistles through his teeth, and you have no idea why he does it. Your father looks out the window into the rain for a moment, before turning back to the boy.
“What kind of car are they driving?”
“An 807.”
“A what?” you all say at the same time.
“It’s a Peugeot,” says the boy. “A Peugeot 807.”
Leo turns round and wants to know what color the car is.
“Red.”
“Shit!”
Leo hammers twice on the steering wheel.
“Shit! Fucking shit!”
You don’t know what’s going on. Leo calms himself and says, “The car back there, the one at the exit that dazzled us, you know? Red. Shit, the car was red. I’m sure it was them.”
Tanner looks at his watch.
“They can’t be more than twenty minutes ahead of us. We’ll get them.”
Your father doesn’t react. In the semi-darkness of the car you see him wiping the rain from his face as if it had only just begun to bother him. He’s in no hurry, no one ever escapes him. He looks at you.
“Darian, show him your gun.”
You draw the Five-Seven from your jacket. When you took it from Neil Exner and felt the grip in your hand, you knew immediately that it was a beauty. A Herstal, top Belgian model, light and elegant. You know it from gun magazines, NATO stock. Your boys in Berlin will shit themselves when you show it to them. You know Neil Exner got it off the girls, and you wonder if it’s the same gun that killed Mirko.
The boy stares big-eyed at the Five-Seven, which is now on your knees. You feel him shaking beside you, it comes and goes in phases, you find it surprisingly arousing. If you’re discovering your homoerotic side right now, you really are in trouble.
Your father’s explaining the rules to the boy.
“Darian’s going to take care of you now, Marten, do you understand that?”
The boy doesn’t understand, but he nods.
“The risk that you work with these girls is simply too high for us.”
The boy stops nodding. Now he’s understood. You smile. Leo puts the car in gear, reverses a little way, and turns. You leave the restaurant and you’re back on Route 41. Twenty minutes pass, then the boy dares to break the silence.
“Please, let me go.”
No one reacts, it isn’t their problem anymore, it’s up to you now, so you bring your mouth close to the boy’s ear and whisper, “Say one more word, one single word, and I’ll blow you away. I don’t care whether you have anything to do with those bitches or not. I’m on your case now, and when I’m on your case you’re mine and mine alone till the end of your fucking days. You’re my responsibility, got that?”
The boy’s eyes are closed again, but he’s understood. Good. Nothing works without rules, you think. It would be interesting to hear what your thoughts would be if you knew what a big mistake you’ve just made. Because fear isn’t always fear. There’s also fear that awakes courage.