Jon studied the man sitting across from him. The eyes behind the glasses didn't waver, and his face emanated both seriousness and patience.
'What exactly are you trying to tell me, Kortmann?'
'That your father, in all likelihood, was murdered.'
Jon felt his body grow heavy, and he had a sensation of sinking into the armchair, as if the air had been let out of the leather upholstery. He couldn't meet Kortmann's eye but let his gaze wander aimlessly while the words seeped into his consciousness.
After a pause Kortmann went on. 'I understood from Iversen that you've witnessed the abilities of a receiver during a demonstration at Libri di Luca. Is that right?'
Jon nodded absentmindedly.
'Perhaps you noticed that you didn't have total control over your own body. You were unable to steer the reading or your eyes or your breathing, and maybe you even sensed a change in your heartbeat. Just imagine those small effects increased by a factor of ten or a hundred. Your father didn't have a chance.'
Jon tried to recall what had happened in the basement during his reading ofFahrenheit 451. He remembered strong images and a definite impact on the story, but did he have control over his own body or was it being steered by Katherina?
'Naturally we can't prove anything,' said Kortmann with regret in his voice. 'It doesn't leave any traces of drugs or injuries or any sort of marks. The symptoms are an over-exerted heart, subsequently followed by heart failure.'
The feeling of helplessness Jon had experienced during the demonstration returned, and he remembered how his heart had noticeably beat faster. He recalled the heat he had felt on his hands, and the sweat that had appeared on his forehead. He'd been a passenger in his own body, unable to stop it, even if it had walked off a cliff. Jon could easily imagine how this power could be used for other things than conjuring up good reading experiences. But what sort of person would use this control over someone else to such an extent that it ended in death?
'Katherina is a receiver,' said Jon. 'Is that why she isn't allowed up here?'
'Indeed. No receiver has access to these rooms any more.'
'Any more?'
'Forgive me, I keep forgetting that you know nothing about the Bibliophile Society and its history, even though you're Luca's son.'
'Please, just tell me,' Jon insisted.
Kortmann nodded and cleared his throat before he went on.
'Until twenty years ago, the Bibliophile Society was a group that welcomed both transmitters and receivers. That was largely thanks to your father and grandfather – they held the two factions together as long as they could. But twenty years ago a series of events occurred, quite similar to what we're seeing today. Lectors were fired from their public positions for no reason, or they were subjected to harassment of one sort or another. This escalated to break-ins, fires and even murder, and there were clear signs that powers were being used offensively. The receivers accused us of being behind it, while we were convinced that they were causing these events. The powers that receivers possess are less obvious than ours, and we thought we had proof that receivers were involved in most of the attacks we suffered. Everything pointed in their direction. Even in cases where receivers were the target, we could explain them as deliberate smokescreens or revolts within their own ranks. But they denied everything. The accusations ended up splitting the Society in two. The mood was hateful, and at that time your father was out of the picture because of your mother's death. He'd always been an ambassador for both sides and without his diplomacy the Society became, as I said, divided up into transmitters and receivers.' Kortmann pressed the palms of his hands together. 'That's why receivers are not welcome here today.'
'What happened?' asked Jon. 'Did the attacks stop?'
'Instantly,' replied Kortmann. 'After the split, there were no further problems.'
'Until now,' Pau added.
Kortmann nodded.
Jon thought back to his father's funeral. Iversen had said that both transmitters and receivers were present – many of them, in fact. He hadn't sensed any discord or mistrust, but back then he'd had no idea what sort of people they were, or what their connection to Luca had been.
'Why Luca?'
'Your father always had one foot in each camp, and not everybody was happy about that. Some people, both transmitters and receivers, think that it's best to stick with one's own kind. In their eyes he might be regarded as a traitor.'
'And in yours?'
Kortmann hesitated for a moment, but if he felt accused, he didn't show it.
'Luca was my close friend. In addition, he was a talented leader and the very embodiment of goodness, but we didn't always agree. I lobbied for the division between transmitters and receivers back then, and that gave me the position as leader of the Society when your father stepped down. I would have much preferred that he stayed on, but your mother's death took a terrible toll on him, and he had no contact with the Society for several years afterwards. When he finally returned, the split had long since become a reality.'
'So he didn't become the leader again?'
'No, in accordance with his own wishes, Luca became an ordinary member of the Society,' replied Kortmann, and he hastened to add, 'But we always asked him for advice when it came to important decisions. He was, after all, one of the founders, and his word still carried great weight.'
'Was that what made him so dangerous that he had to die?'
'I have a hard time imagining that, but as for what he was doing with the receivers, I can't say.'
'They must have had some reason for killing him,' said Pau. 'You said it yourself, Kortmann. The murderer is a receiver.'
'They deny any involvement,' replied Kortmann. 'In spite of the split, we occasionally communicate with the receivers. It used to be done through Luca. Now we're trying to set up a more official means of communication. Right after Luca's death their leader rang me up and assured me that they had nothing to do with the murder.'
'The whole thing stinks to high heaven,' exclaimed Pau. 'I bet they're the ones behind all of it. So who's going to be the next one to be assassinated? You? Me? We should do something before it's too late.'
'Before you start launching an attack,' said Jon calmly, 'shouldn't you rule out that Luca's death was actually from natural causes?'
'We've certainly had doubts,' admitted Kortmann. 'Until tonight. The attack on Libri di Luca has absolutely convinced me that someone wants to destroy us. But your scepticism pleases me, Jon. You'll need it for the task that we're about to give you.'
'Task?' said Jon uncertainly. Images of himself tossing Molotov cocktails at shop windows popped into his mind. Strangely enough, the situation seemed less repellent than he might have expected, as if the circumstances surrounding Luca's death had stirred up something inside him.
'What sort of task did you have in mind?'
'The receivers deny all knowledge of this, but they've agreed to an investigation. Just as we have no idea whether there might be a traitor among us, they're in the same situation. For that reason, both parties are interested in an impartial investigation, carried out by an outsider – an individual who isn't influenced by the milieu, so to speak. You're that person, Jon.'
Jon stared in astonishment at the man in the wheelchair.
'How am I supposed to…' he began without finishing the sentence.
'You're the perfect choice, Jon. The goodwill felt towards your father will help you with both groups. You're still not involved enough in the Society to take sides, and as a barrister you must be used to a certain degree of detective work.'
'But when it comes to Luca's death, you might say that I am anything but impartial,' Jon countered.
'I should think it gives you even more motivation to find the murderer, thereal murderer.'
It was hard for Jon to find an argument against this. His immediate reaction was that he didn't want anything to do with the matter. He should sell the bookshop as quickly as possible, then forget all about Lect
ors and get on with his own life. He already had plenty of tasks on his desk. Finally a clear career opportunity had presented itself in the form of the Remer case, but on the other hand it took all his time except when he was sleeping. His inbox was full.
And yet he had a feeling that this was his last chance to find some real answers. Maybe the investigation of Luca's death would provide him with the explanation he'd been lacking for so many years: why his father hadn't wanted anything to do with him after his mother's death. As he sat there surrounded by books in the inner sanctum of the Bibliophile Society, bombarded by conspiracy theories, it occurred to him that it was all connected – Luca's death, his own life, and everything that had happened to him over the past twenty years – they were all pieces in a puzzle which until now he'd been too young to put together. 'For ages thirty-three and older,' it might say on the box.
'I'd have no idea even where to start,' Jon objected after no one said a word for a while.
'First you have to meet the rest of the Bibliophile Society members,' said Kortmann. 'Both the transmitters and the receivers. Perhaps the receiver you brought along can be of use. Apparently she enjoyed Luca's trust, so use her if you can. It's possible that she can arrange something with the receivers. After that you can work out a strategy, assuming that they accept you.'
'He'll probably need a bodyguard, don't you think?' suggested Pau, pointing both thumbs at himself. 'Like me, for instance?'
'As I said before,' explained Kortmann with poorly concealed annoyance in his voice, 'it's important for both sides to have faith in the person or persons who undertake this investigation. They have to be as impartial as possible, and we can't exactly accuse you of that.'
'Okay, okay,' said Pau, disappointed. 'Just trying to help.'
'Besides, there's another obvious qualification that Jon possesses, unlike yourself. Jon is not an active Lector.'
Pau shrugged.
'There's no doubt that you have potential,' said Kortmann, turning to Jon. 'But at the moment your powers are dormant. It would be an advantage to keep them that way until the investigation is completed. The people you're going to deal with need to be certain that you're not manipulating them. The disadvantage, however, is obvious – you won't be able to sense when someone is trying to manipulate you.'
'That makes me feel a lot better,' said Jon, unconvincingly.
'It's not that bad. Your advantage is that you know who you're dealing with. If you stick to a few very simple rules, you shouldn't have any problems.'
'And they are?'
'Don't read anything in the presence of a receiver, and avoid any reading given by a transmitter.'
Jon nodded. 'But I'd still feel more confident if I had someone with me. Call it a bodyguard or a guide. As a stranger in this environment, I could use some guidance on how I should act.'
'I understand,' said Kortmann. 'But the receivers would never accept Pau as an investigator.'
'It wasn't Pau I was thinking of,' said Jon quickly. 'I'd like to take Katherina along.'
Pau sniggered while Kortmann calmly clasped his hands and leaned his chin on them. After giving Jon a long, inquisitive look, he laughed. 'You're truly Luca's son. That's exactly the sort of thing he would have done. All right, have it your way. As long as you realize that there are certain places she can't go, and that some people won't be happy with the arrangement, you're welcome to take her along.' His expression turned serious again. 'So, what do you say?'
Jon shifted his gaze to Pau, who stared back with an offended expression. Kortmann sat with his hands clasped in front of him, regarding Jon expectantly. Again a sense of powerlessness slipped into Jon's mind. It was clear what he had to do, even if he didn't want to. He felt he'd been stripped of the right to choose. But what surprised him was that hedid want to do it. The opportunity to find out what had happened in the past countered all sensible arguments about career and unfounded conspiracy theories. Something told him that there had to be a connection between the present events and what had happened twenty years earlier.
Jon sat up straight and threw out his hands.
'Okay, when do we start?'
11
Even though it was dark, Katherina could see that something was different about the two men as they came walking towards her. Jon came first, taking resolute strides, while Pau scuffed along behind him. They'd been gone for an hour. An hour in which Katherina had roamed around the courtyard in front of the house in the autumn chill. The cold hadn't bothered her, but Kortmann's arrogant dismissal had, and she'd been kept warm by her anger and frustration at not knowing what he was going to say, or what version of the story he would choose.
'Well, what did he say?' asked Katherina when they reached the car. Jon didn't say anything, just got in behind the wheel without looking at her. She shifted her gaze to Pau, who scowled back.
'Congratulations,' he muttered. 'You get to be the tour guide for our friend here.' He opened the car door and threw himself onto the back seat, where he crossed his arms and closed his eyes.
Katherina got into the passenger seat. 'What's that all about?'
Jon took a deep breath. With his hands on the steering wheel and his eyes staring at the darkness beyond the windscreen, he replied, 'I've been asked to undertake an investigation into the circumstances surrounding my father's… death. Kortmann thinks that Luca was murdered.' He paused for a second before turning to face her. 'I'm going to need your help, Katherina.'
She lowered her gaze and nodded. 'Of course.'
Her worries were suddenly gone and she had to make an effort not to show her relief. After an hour of misgivings and uncertainty, she could now relax. Because didn't this mean that she was still welcome at Libri di Luca? And that there was still hope of a reconciliation between the transmitters and receivers? She hardly dared believe it.
'You don't look surprised,' said Jon. 'Did you realize he'd been killed?'
'There are plenty of indications,' replied Katherina evasively. She could understand it if Jon was feeling left out. 'We can't be a hundred per cent positive, but Iversen is absolutely sure of it.'
'It sounds like everyone except me knew about this.' Jon started the car. 'There also seems to be agreement that a receiver was behind it,' he went on as the car rolled towards the gate which, as if by a secret signal, had begun to open. 'Everybody has warned me against you receivers. Your powers seem to make people nervous, and if that's really how Luca was murdered, then their fears are certainly justified. So the question is whether I can trust you.'
Katherina sensed that Jon was looking at her as they waited for the gate in front of them to open all the way so that they could leave Kortmann's property. If she'd known what to say in order to reassure Jon, she would have said it, but the only thing she could think of was that she felt safe with him.
From the back seat Pau began snoring loudly. Katherina didn't say a word.
'I think I can,' Jon concluded. 'Since the man whose death we're going to investigate trusted you. I suppose that's the best recommendation.'
'What about the others?' asked Katherina. 'Not many people trust a receiver these days.'
'They're going to have to accept it, if I have anything to say about the matter. I'm going to need someone the receivers know and trust. Someone who can decipher the signals coming from both sides. And as I understand it, you've had contact with both receivers and transmitters by virtue of your connection with my father and Libri di Luca.'
Katherina nodded. Suddenly it seemed to her that the time she'd spent with Luca, as well as his efforts to reunite the two factions, had actually prepared her for investigating his murder. As if the whole thing had been planned from the start, and she could now step into the role. She hoped she had the strength for it.
'I wish Iversen were here,' she said quietly.
'We're going to need him,' Jon acknowledged, then paused for a moment. 'He's the one who knew Luca best, after all.'
The undertone of this last remark made
Katherina give him a sidelong glance. For the first time she seemed to detect a touch of regret in Jon's voice. His eyes were fixed on the road ahead, but they seemed to be looking further. When his face was lit up by the headlamps of oncoming cars, she could see the muscles of his jaw moving slightly, and if she listened closely the sound of his teeth grinding was audible. There was anger and sorrow in his expression, and she wished she could make these feelings vanish. Maybe he noticed she was looking at him because he turned his face towards her. She immediately looked away.
'There's a lot I need to catch up on with regard to my father,' he said. 'It's been years since I last had any contact with him, and things didn't go very well on that occasion, to put it mildly.'
It was strange to be sitting there talking about Luca with his own son. In many situations Luca had been like a father to Katherina, and in that sense Jon was like a brother, but they had both known him for only part of their lives. Jon for the first part of his, and Katherina for a later part of hers. Together they might be able to form a more complete picture of the man to whom they both, each in different ways, owed their life.
'What happened the last time you saw Luca?' she asked cautiously.
'He rejected me,' said Jon. 'I had just turned eighteen at the time and was no doubt surly and irritating, but we didn't talk long enough for him even to find that out.' He cleared his throat before he went on. 'First I called the bookshop. I'd never understood why he had sent me away when I was in my early teens. Now that I was all grown up, in my opinion, I thought I had a right to an explanation. So I rang him up, with my heart pounding, my hands sweaty, the whole business. At first there was a long silence on the other end of the line, and for a moment I thought we'd been cut off. But then he said there must be some mistake because he didn't have a son. Then he slammed down the receiver.'
Pau grunted drowsily from the back seat, but a more regular snoring soon started up again.
'It had taken me months to muster enough courage to make that phone call,' Jon continued. 'So when I heard the dial tone on the other end, I went berserk. I took the next bus to Vesterbro and crashed open the door to the shop. Iversen was there that day. He was standing behind the counter, helping a customer, but when he saw me, his whole face lit up with a big smile and he gave me a friendly greeting. That made me calm down a bit, and when the customer left the shop, Iversen patted me on the shoulder and said that he'd go and get my father. Then he disappeared downstairs. It took a long time for Luca to appear. He came walking slowly towards me with a kind, inquisitive look in his eyes. For a second I thought that everything was going to be all right again, but then his expression changed and he asked me what I was doing there. I had no reason to be there, he said, and I should never come back.'
The Library of Shadows Page 11
