Harry Hole Oslo Sequence 10 - Police

said.
    Arnold Folkestad frowned. ‘Give me the phone.’
    Rakel picked it up and passed it to him. He pressed the gun against Oleg’s neck while grabbing the phone. Read the message quickly. Sent Rakel a sharp glare.
    ‘“Don’t let Oleg see the present.”’ What’s that supposed to mean?’
    Rakel shrugged. ‘It means he’s alive anyway.’
    ‘Impossible. They said on the radio my bomb had gone off.’
    ‘Can’t you just get out right now, Arnold? Before it’s too late.’
    Folkestad blinked pensively while staring at her. Or through her.
    ‘I see. Someone beat Harry to it. Went into the flat. Ka-boom. Of course.’ He chuckled. ‘Harry’s on his way here now, isn’t he? He doesn’t suspect a thing. I can shoot you first and then wait for him to come through that door.’
    He seemed to run through his reasoning one more time and nodded as if he had come to the same conclusion. And pointed the gun at Rakel.
    Oleg began to wriggle on the chair, tried to jump, and groaned desperately through the gag. Rakel stared into the muzzle of the gun. Felt her heart stop beating. As though her brain had accepted the inevitable and was starting to close down. She was no longer afraid. She wanted to die. To die for Oleg. Perhaps Harry would get here before . . . perhaps he would save Oleg. For she knew something now. She closed her eyes. Waited for something she didn’t know. A blow, a stab, pain. Darkness. She had no gods she wanted to pray to.
    A lock on the front door rattled.
    She opened her eyes.
    Arnold had lowered his gun and was staring at the door.
    A small pause. Then it began to rattle again.
    Arnold stepped back, seized the blanket from the armchair and slung it over Oleg so that it covered both him and the chair.
    ‘Act as if nothing’s happened,’ he whispered. ‘If you say one word I’ll put a bullet through the back of your son’s head.’
    There was a third rattle. Rakel saw Arnold position himself behind Oleg and the chair so that the gun couldn’t be seen from the front door.
    Then the door opened.
    And there he was. A towering figure, beaming smile, open jacket and ravaged face.
    ‘Arnold!’ he exclaimed with delight. ‘What a pleasure!’
    Arnold laughed back. ‘You’re quite a sight, Harry! What happened?’
    ‘Cop killer. A bomb.’
    ‘Really?’
    ‘Nothing of any consequence. What brings you here?’
    ‘I was passing. And remembered I had to discuss a couple of things about the timetable. Would you mind coming over here for a second?’
    ‘Not until I’ve given her a good hug,’ he said and opened his arms to Rakel, who flew into his embrace. ‘How was the trip, darling?’
    Arnold cleared his throat. ‘You can let him go now, Rakel. I’ve got a few things to do tonight.’
    ‘Now you’re being a bit stern, Arnold,’ Harry laughed and let go of Rakel, pushing her away and taking off his coat.
    ‘Come over here then,’ Arnold said.
    ‘There’s better light here, Arnold.’
    ‘My knee hurts. Come over here.’
    Harry bent down and pulled at his shoelaces. ‘I’ve been in one helluva an explosion today, so you’ll have to excuse me if I remove my shoes first. You’ll have to use your knee on the way out anyway, so bring the timetable over here if you’re in such a hurry.’
    Harry stared down at his shoes. The distance from Arnold and the chair covered with the blanket was six or seven metres. Too far for someone who had admitted that his vision and the shakes meant he couldn’t hit a target more than half a metre away. And now, the target had suddenly crouched down and made itself much smaller by lowering its head and leaning forward so that it was protected by its shoulders.
    He pulled at the laces, pretending they were knotted.
    Tempting Arnold. He had to tempt him over.
    For there was only one way. And perhaps that was what had made him so calm and relaxed. All or nothing. The bet was already made. The rest was in the lap of the gods.
    And perhaps it was this calmness that Arnold sensed.
    ‘As you wish, Harry.’
    Harry heard Arnold walking across the floor. Still concentrating on his laces. Knew Arnold had passed Oleg on the chair, Oleg who was perfectly still, as though he knew what was going on.
    Then Arnold passed Rakel.
    The moment had arrived.
    Harry looked up. Stared into the gun muzzle, the black eye staring at him from twenty, thirty centimetres.
    He had known from the moment he entered the house that the slightest sudden move would set