Burned

I bet she knows, Brogeland thinks. She knows that men love to stare at her. And the uniform doubles her power. She appears unobtainable because she is a policewoman, and because she is so desirable, she can take her pick of anyone she wants — from both sides of the fence, probably. She is in control. And that’s irresistible, a huge turn-on.

They find themselves in a backyard which shows every sign of neglect. There are weeds between the paving slabs, bushes have been left to grow wild and tangled. The flowerbeds, if they can still be called that, are a jungle of compacted soil and dusty roots. The black paint on the bicycle stand is peeling and the few bicycles parked there have rusty chains and flat tyres.

There are three stairwells to choose from. Brogeland knows that Marhoni lives in stairwell B. Sandland gets there first, finds the button in the square box on the wall and presses it. No sound.

Brogeland forces himself to take his eyes off Sandland’s rear and looks up at the sky. Clouds are gathering over Gamlebyen. There will be rain soon. A swallow shrieks as it flies from one rooftop to another. He hears a jet plane pass, but he can’t see it through the clouds.

Marhoni lives in the upper ground floor flat, but the window is too high for Brogeland to be able to look in. Sandland rings the bell again. This time she gets a response.

‘Hello?’

‘Hello. This is the police. Open the door, please.’

Brogeland relishes Sandland’s juicy accent.

‘Police?’

Brogeland registers a hint of reluctance and fear in the voice. That’s not Marhoni, he thinks, Marhoni is a tough nut.

‘Yes, the police.’

Sandland’s sexy voice is more authoritative now.

‘W-why?’

‘Police? Don’t let them in.’

The voice in the background is loud enough for Brogeland and Sandland to hear it.

‘Open up.’

Sandland raises her voice. Brogeland snaps out of his fantasy and pushes down the door handle. He has noticed that the lock has been vandalised, and he stomps inside with Sandland right behind him. They race up the stairs to the elevated ground floor. Brogeland can hear someone fiddling with the lock, but he gets there first, his superb physical fitness pays off, and he tears open the door.

A man he instantly guesses must be Marhoni’s brother gives him a frightened look; Brogeland ignores him, thinking that at any moment, he could be staring straight into the mouth of a pistol. He moves swiftly and noiselessly, he checks the flat, there is a smell of herbs, of cannabis, he opens a door, a kitchen, it’s empty, he continues, a bedroom, no, no one there either, he is in the living room, and that’s when he sees it, the fireplace, someone has lit a fire; however, it’s not the flames that disconcert him, but what the flames are consuming with such greed, and he is taken aback for a moment, it’s a computer, a laptop, he calls out to Sandland to save it and he will go after Marhoni, he hears how his voice is rich with power, with experience, knowledge, guts, authority, everything you need to make on-the-spot decisions. Sandland responds just as Brogeland spots Marhoni trying to escape out of a window in one of the rooms accessible through the living room. Marhoni gets ready, then he jumps. Brogeland soon reaches the window, looks down before he climbs up, realises the drop is less than two metres, jumps, lands softly and looks around, spots Marhoni and chases after him. You’ll be sorry you did that, he thinks, you prat, absconding from your flat the very day your girlfriend is found murdered, how do you think it’s going to look, you moron?

Brogeland knows it will be an easy race to win. Marhoni keeps looking over his shoulder and every time Brogeland gains a few metres on him. Marhoni runs across the junction where Bispegata crosses Oslovei, without waiting for a green light. A car brakes right in front of him and sounds its horn. Brogeland pursues him. In the background, he can hear the tram, dring-dring; there are cars in the street, people behind windows following the chase with interest, probably wondering what on earth is going on, is someone making a film or is it the real thing? Marhoni turns around, then he runs straight ahead. Brogeland thinks Marhoni must want an audience or he would have fled in the direction of Aker Church. Brogeland is only ten metres behind Marhoni now and he is constantly gaining on him. He catches up with him and throws himself at him. They land on the tarmac outside Ruinen Bar amp; Cafe.

Marhoni breaks his fall and Brogeland is unhurt. There is a man sitting outside the cafe, smoking. He watches as Brogeland sits on Marhoni’s back, pinning back his arms, before he calls in for assistance.

‘19, this is Fox 43 Bravo, over.’

He gets his breath back, while he waits for a response.

‘19 responding, over.’

‘This is Fox 43 Bravo, I’m in St Hallvard’s Square, I’ve arrested a suspect and I require assistance. Over.’

He breathes out, looks at Marhoni who is gasping for air. Brogeland shakes his head.

‘Bloody idiot,’ he mutters to himself.

Chapter 12