Harry Hole Oslo Sequence 10 - Police

break up the terrace. OK?’
    ‘You should have had professionals do the terrace, not Truls.’
    ‘He did it in the middle of the night, without asking me. I’ve told you before. Where are you, darling?’
    ‘I’m meeting a girlfriend. Will you be home for dinner?’
    ‘Oh, yes. And don’t worry about the terrace. All right, darling?’
    ‘All right.’
    He hung up. Thinking he had said darling twice, and that was one time too many. Made it sound as if it was a lie. He started the car, pressed the accelerator, released the clutch and felt the wonderful pressure of the seat rest against his head as the new Audi surged across the car park. Thought about Isabelle. How he felt. Felt his blood pumping already. And thought about the strange paradox that had not been a lie. His love for Ulla never felt more real than just before he was going to fuck another woman.
    Anton Mittet sat on the terrace. His eyes were closed and he could feel the sun warming his skin, just. Spring was fighting, but for the moment winter had the upper hand. Then he opened his eyes, and again his gaze fell on the letter on the table by him.
    The Drammen Health Centre logo was embossed in blue.
    He knew what it was, the result of his blood test. He was about to tear it open, but deferred it again and instead looked up and across the River Drammen. When they had seen the brochure for the new flats in Elveparken, to the west in Åssiden, they hadn’t hesitated. The children had flown the nest and taming the stubborn garden had not become an easier job over the years, and nor had maintaining the old, much too big, timber house in Konnerud they had inherited from Laura’s parents. Selling the whole lot and buying a modern, manageable flat was supposed to give them more time and money to do what they had spoken about for so many years. Travelling together. Visiting distant lands. Experiencing the things this short life on earth still had to offer.
    So why hadn’t they travelled after they made the move? Why had he deferred that as well?
    Anton straightened his sunglasses, shuffled the letter around. Fished the phone from his baggy trouser pocket instead.
    Was it everyday life that was so hectic with the days just coming and going, coming and going? Was it the view of Drammen that was so blissfully comforting? Was it the thought of having to spend so much time together, the fear of what it could reveal about both of them, about their marriage? Or was it the Case, the Fall, that had drained his energy, his initiative, leaving him in a state of mind in which daily routine appeared to be the sole escape from total collapse? And then Mona happened . . .
    Anton looked at the display. GAMLEM CONTACT RIKSHOSPITAL .
    There were three options beneath. Call. Send text. Edit.
    Edit. Life should have that button as well. Everything could have been so different. He would have reported the baton. He wouldn’t have invited Mona for coffee. He wouldn’t have fallen asleep.
    But he had fallen asleep.
    Fallen asleep while on duty, on a hard wooden chair. Him, someone who usually struggled to fall asleep in his own bed after a long day. It was incomprehensible. And he had wandered around half dazed for a long time afterwards as well, even the dead man’s face and the ensuing commotion hadn’t been enough to wake him; he had stood there like a zombie with this fog in his brain, incapable of doing anything or even answering questions clearly. Not that it would have necessarily saved the patient if he had stayed awake. The autopsy hadn’t shown anything other than that the patient might have died of a stroke. But Anton hadn’t done his job. Not that anyone would ever find out; he hadn’t said a word. But he knew. Knew that he had screwed up again.
    Anton Mittet looked down at the buttons.
    Call. Send text. Edit.
    It was time. Time to do something. Do something right. Just do it. Don’t put it off.
    He pressed Edit. Another option appeared.
    He chose. Chose correctly. Delete.
    Then he took the envelope and tore it open. Took the letter out and read. He had gone to the health centre early in the morning after the patient had been found dead. Explained he was a police officer on his way to work, he had taken a pill, but didn’t know what it contained, he felt strange and was worried about going to work in case it had side effects. At first the doctor had wanted him to call in sick, but Anton had insisted they take a blood sample.
    His eyes ran down the letter.