Burned

Brogeland stares at the floor, looking for an answer, but finding none.

‘Why do you think he came to you with this?’ Gjerstad says, pointing to the script. ‘Do you think he did it because he wanted to help the police or because he wanted to help himself?’

Brogeland remembers that Gjerstad is well known for his rhetorical powers. And he can think of nothing to say by way of reply.

‘Juul may very well have stumbled across something important, but don’t think for a minute that he’s doing this to benefit society. He’s using you, Bjarne. I think that what happened to him, however tragic it was, it did something to him. Given what I know of Henning Juul, my guess is it has only served to make him more cynical and manipulative.’

Brogeland doesn’t know what to say, so he says nothing.

‘Have you done anything about it yet?’ Gjerstad asks, referring to the script.

‘I’ve tried to get hold of Anette Skoppum, but no luck so far. She doesn’t answer her mobile and she isn’t in her flat, either. I sent Emil to talk to her, but when she wasn’t there, I placed a unit outside.’

‘Where does she live?’

‘Bislett.’

‘Okay.’

‘She also withdrew 5,000 kroner from a cashpoint in Akersgate, a couple of hours ago.’

‘Five grand? That’s a lot. Well, at least she is still alive.’

‘Most probably. But it also suggests she isn’t planning on withdrawing cash for a while. I’ve sent Emil to Westerdal to look for her and to talk to her friends, but I haven’t heard anything from him.’

Gjerstad nods and waits, but Brogeland has nothing more for him. He has a feeling of emptiness. Just as well that Sandland didn’t come with him, after all.

Could Henning Juul really have been that ruthless? Let a killer go free in return for a good story? Of course he could. And might Juul screw him, too, one day? But they know each other. A little.

Brogeland looks at Gjerstad, who has sat down behind his desk again and started to leaf through some documents. If Brogeland has learned anything during the seventeen months he has been working for Gjerstad, it is that once his boss has formed an opinion about someone, it takes a lot to change it. Perhaps that’s why he is such a good police officer, Brogeland thinks. Or perhaps that’s why he’ll never be a great one.

Brogeland gets up; he waits for Gjerstad to say something. But he doesn’t. Brogeland closes the door behind him on his way out.

Chapter 51

Jonas’s burning eyes rip Henning out of his sleep. He curses, sits up, finds himself on the sofa in front of the television and realises he must have dozed off during an episode of That 70s Show.

The television is still on. The screen is filled by a man with blond hair who is eating cheese while a multitude of women of different colours and shapes and one man swap seats. Henning leans back and imagines himself riding a wave. Keep breathing, he says to himself. Keep breathing.

He is reminded of Finding Nemo, the animated film, where Nemo’s father searches for his missing son and meets Dory, a fish who can barely remember her own name, but who loves to sing. Henning can hear her voice in his head: ‘Just keep swimming, just keep swimming.’

They must have watched Finding Nemo at least thirty times, most of them the summer they visited an idyllic Danish island called Tuno. It rained the whole time. They hardly left the charming cottage they had rented on the car-free island. But Jonas loved Nemo. He wonders what that holiday would have been like without Nemo.

His mobile vibrates on the coffee table. The noise startles him. He looks at the display: caller unknown.

‘Henning Juul,’ he says and clears his voice of sleep.

‘Hi, it’s Truls Leirvag. I hear you’ve been trying to get hold of me?’

The voice is dark and coarse. As he gets up, Henning places Truls’s dialect somewhere near Bergen. Perhaps even in Bergen.

‘Oh, hi. Yes. Great. Thanks for calling.’

No response.

‘Er, yes. I wanted to ask you about this screenplay you’ve taken out an option on. Henriette Hagerup’s script.’

More silence.

‘Can you tell me a little about her script, please? Why did you decide to option it?’

‘For the same reason we usually option scripts, I suppose. We liked it. We think we can turn it into a good film — eventually.’

‘What’s it about?’

‘It’s called Control+Alt+Delete. It’s about a young woman who achieves fame and fortune, but dreams about pressing Control+Alt+Delete on her keyboard — and starting her life over. She doesn’t like the person she has become. And using a very special keyboard, she gets the chance to relive her life. Now the question is: will she make the right choices this time or will she make the same mistakes again?’

‘I see.’

‘The script needs some work, if I can put it like that, but the story has great potential.’

Henning nods to himself.

‘And Yngve Foldvik came to you with this script?’

A pause follows.

‘Yes.’

‘Is that common?’

‘What?’

‘Supervisors tipping off former colleagues about a script written by a student?’