He climbed out of the tub. Kai had laid out a towel and some clothes for him, but he felt another evacuation on the way and didn’t know where it would come from. There was no toilet paper left. He opened the cupboard below the sink. Four bottles of lighter fluid there. Had to take them out to find what he was looking for, just about reached the toilet in time before a warm shower burst from his gut. The right orifice at least, he consoled himself. Things are looking up.
– That helped, then, Kai remarked when Karsten came down to the kitchen wearing training pants that were several centimetres too short for his legs.
He put a cup of steaming fresh coffee down in front of him.
– I don’t know how many of these you’re going to need, but you better sober up quick. We’re leaving in a few minutes.
– Leaving?
The consonants were no longer quite so sticky.
– You can’t stay here. Kai poured himself a cup. – We think the Pakis know where you are.
– No one knows where I am, Karsten protested. He picked up his own trousers, felt in his pockets; his phone wasn’t there.
– Shit, he muttered, and tried to recall where he had last seen it. – It’s at Priest’s place. I need to talk to Adrian.
– Leave it to me.
Karsten tried to get his head to work a little quicker.
– Do you live here? he asked.
– Yes.
– Adrian said you were his cousin?
No answer.
– And Elsa is your aunt?
Kai said at the table. – Do you know her?
– She told my fortune. Amazing that people believe in stuff like that.
– Now you shut your mouth, Kai interrupted. – No more crap from you.
Karsten cringed in his chair. – I didn’t mean anything.
Kai leaned across the table, his gaze boring into him. – Here’s something you better learn pretty damned quick, he growled, wagging his finger in Karsten’s face. – You’re not better than other people, not one tiny bit, even if you can solve maths problems. Got that?
– Of course, Karsten mumbled, staring down at the table.
– You make enemies wherever you go. Always provoking. If you don’t wise up pretty soon, you will be in deep shit. Got that?
– Got it, Karsten said without looking up.
– I don’t want to hear one more word of your shit. I don’t want you talking about Elsa at all. Got that?
– Got that, Karsten echoed, not getting anything.
– You’re not worth a toenail compared to her. So keep your mouth shut.
Kai stood up. For a moment Karsten thought he was going to hit him. He raised an arm above his head to protect himself, but Kai disappeared out into the hallway and climbed the stairs. When he returned a few minutes later, he was much calmer.
– Has Adrian given you any idea of what we’re going to do?
– Not any more than what you were talking about.
Kai leaned against the table. He was wearing a sleeveless vest and his bulging muscles shone as though smeared with oil. His forearm was covered in scars.
– The Gooks are going to do what we asked them to. They hate the Pakis. The Gooks are something else. You can trust them. They’re not trying to take over the whole world. They’re happy just to get on with their own business. But don’t ever trespass on their territory, otherwise you’re dead.
He straightened up. – Excellent people, he added.
Karsten was careful not to touch anything as he once again climbed into the Chevy.
– Where are we going?
– Sæter, said Kai.
– What d’you mean? I’ve got no business there.
Kai reversed out and turned into the road. – They’re not there. You’ll have the house to yourself. All you need to worry about is feeding the dogs. He laughed. Karsten didn’t know whether or not that was a good sign.
They crossed the runway. As they passed the Statoil petrol station, a car swung out behind them.
Kai scowled. – There they are, I’m guessing.
– They?
– The BMW. Black.
Karsten leaned forward and looked in the mirror, could see nothing but the headlights of the car behind.
– That’s a Paki Porsche, said Kai.
– Porsche?
– Or kebab cab or Punjab taxi, whatever you want to call it. Can smell people like that a kilometre away.
He speeded up at the roundabout. There was a rumbling under the bonnet as he put his foot down and changed gear. Karsten sat on his hands to keep them from shaking. By the flat stretch up at Hvam they were doing over a hundred. Round the corner Kai jammed on the brakes and wrenched the Chevy into the driveway of a business park, then on behind the closest building, coming to a complete halt a few centimetres from a fence. The contents of Karsten’s stomach were still moving forward; somehow or other he got the door open, staggered out and bent double as the gush jetted out of him.
Several minutes passed before he was able to crawl back into the car.
– Pakis won’t set foot inside an American car, Kai grinned as he handed him some tissue paper. – Fucking pigs. Full of prejudice. But when it really matters they always screw up.
He waited a few more minutes before reversing out in front of the building again, gliding off up the road in the opposite direction.
– Almost too easy to lose them, he chuckled as he took the turning towards Korset.
– Stop here, Karsten shouted when they reached Erleveien.
Kai looked at him, didn’t slow down.
– I’m not interested in feeding any dogs, Karsten protested. – I want to go home.
– The Pakis are waiting for you.
– Don’t give a shit. Just let me out here.
Kai speeded up. – We’re working like maniacs to help you deal with all this. Don’t you understand that without us you’re finished? Now just stop your bloody moaning. You’re going to stay at Sæter’s until tomorrow morning.
Talking to Kai was like playing Minesweeper. Part of the time you could work out where it was best to go, and then suddenly it all blew up anyway. Karsten chose to say nothing.
As they passed the church, Kai opened the glove compartment and took out a CD.
– Put that on.
Nirvana, Karsten noted as he slid it into the player. Kai clicked forward to the track he wanted to hear, turned up the volume. Behind the music Karsten noted a droning sound that he couldn’t locate. Not until he turned and saw Kai sitting there, his thick lips moving as he sang along with Cobain.
– Kind of thing I listened to when I was your age, he shouted. – I feel stupid and contagious.
They turned on to the E6. Karsten slumped back into the seat. Still dizzy and nauseous, he made a tentative attempt to sum up the situation so far. First, he had puked all over Tonje. Second, Kai was taking him to spend the night completely alone at a deserted farmhouse in the depths of the forest. Third, they were planning something that involved getting the Vietnamese and the Pakistanis to fight each other. Fourth, this gang of Pakistanis was still keeping his home under observation. He could have kept on like that, reaching fifty or a hundred other points before he came to something positive.
– Adrian said you were his cousin, he said once more, as a way of approaching what he really wanted to say. He had to get Kai to lend him his phone so that he could ring Adrian, because this business about Sæter and the dogs was a misunderstanding.
Kai shrugged. – That’s not correct.
Karsten sat up straight. – Why would he tell a lie about something like that? Is it such a big deal to be your cousin?
Kai grinned. Fortunately, because Karsten could hear that it sounded more sarcastic than he meant.
– Adrian is my brother.
– You’re kidding.
– My half-brother, Kai corrected himself.
The information acted as a stimulus on Karsten’s brain. – Is Elsa …?
– Didn’t I tell you not to talk about her?
– Yes, you did.
– Has anything happened to make you think that isn’t the case any more?
– Not as far as I know.
At the turn-off to Kløfta, he pulled in and stopped at the petrol station.
– Sit here while I fill it up.
– I need a pee.
– Then you’ll just have to wait until I get back.
He took hold of the petrol gun and began filling the tank. When he was finished, he headed off towards the shop.
Karsten found himself sitting there and cursing inside. Damned if he would stay at Sæter’s place, even if it meant having to make his way home in the slippers Kai had lent him. There was a map in the driver’s-side door. He leaned over and pulled it out. A road map of Europe; not much use for someone who wanted to navigate the Nannestad country lanes in the middle of the night. As he put it back, he noticed that the felt lining of the doorpost had come loose at the edge. He tried to press it back into place, but something was blocking it. He stuck two fingers inside, felt something that seemed to be made of plastic, caught hold of a corner of it and dragged it out.
A bag full of cigarettes. He’d never seen Kai smoking. He took one out, a sort of figure consisting of a half-cigarette and three matchsticks bound together with an elastic band. It was as though his fingers recognised it before his brain did. There were five or six more of them in the bag, some with a long string-like tail.
He sat there, revolving the little cigarette figure between his fingers, knew that he had to put it back, couldn’t do it. His thoughts prevented it, streaming in all directions, tearing up pictures, throwing them together, and suddenly he saw in his mind’s eye one of the cards Elsa had laid out for him. This might be dangerous, Karsten, she said, and pointed to the picture of a burning tower with people tumbling down from the top of it. Part of him tried to classify the information. The policeman had asked him to assemble something that looked exactly like this. Suddenly he thought of Synne. What was she doing in the middle of this train of thought? She’s sitting at the kitchen table. He pours muesli into her cereal bowl, the dry flakes filling it, he doesn’t stop pouring, it runs over, flows across the tabletop, where the sunlight reflects so strongly he has to shield his eyes.
With a huge effort he pulled himself together, dropped the half-cigarette back into the plastic bag, forced himself to collect his thoughts. The reason the police wanted to talk to him was that these cigarettes had something to do with the fires. What was it Dan-Levi had said when he told him to go to the police? That these figures were some kind of ignition device.
He looked up as Kai hurried out of the shop. He wanted to squash the bag back behind the felt, but he wouldn’t have time. Instead he rolled it up and pushed it underneath the seat. Three seconds later, Kai jumped back inside. He was carrying two hot dogs and handed one to Karsten.
– Bit of nourishment is what you need, he said.
Karsten managed to say something that sounded like thank you. Considered throwing open the car door, running into the shop, screaming out something or other, holding on tight to the counter, or to the girl he could make out through the window. She didn’t look much older than Synne.
The car started with an impatient growl, Kai drove with one hand, bolting down the hot dog with the other. On the motorway, he moved into the outside lane and pushed the car up to a hundred and forty.
– Not eating? he slurped.
– Still nauseous.
Kai laughed loudly. – That’s what you get when you can’t control yourself. People like you shouldn’t drink alcohol. You burn your brain cells away and then you’re not much use to us any more. All at once he seemed to be in high spirits.
Karsten squeezed the sausage he was holding between his fingers. It reeked of sweet fat and tomato ketchup.
– Will Adrian be coming? he managed to say.
– Adrian will be coming. Or not coming. He does what he feels like.
In the fields around the road patchy snow still lay like white scars across the darkness. Suddenly Kai turned the music down.
– Adrian grew up like a prince, he said, still munching. – That’s what I call him. The prince. His father owns five or six factories and more properties than you’ve got fingers and toes. If ever anyone was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, it’s Adrian. And now damned if he doesn’t turn up and start taking over everything here as well.
He pressed the racing engine a little harder. If only a traffic cop would come after us, thought Karsten.
– Why does Adrian say he’s your cousin? he asked, just for something to say.
Kai wiped around his mouth with the sausage paper, opened the window and threw it out.
– He doesn’t like having anyone close to him, he growled. – And I was raised by our aunt, so that means he thinks we can call ourselves cousins.
He leaned back, put his foot down harder on the accelerator.
– Not too far from where you live, as it happens.
His voice sounded friendly again, but Karsten stayed on the alert.
– In Erleveien?
– Yes.
– Where?
– Never you mind.
Kai indicated and moved into the lane for the Gardermoen slip road. – The woman who called herself my mother took ill. And I ended up in a children’s home. Not something I would recommend to others. But then Elsa came back.
The name made Karsten see that image of the burning tower again.
– That twat of a factory owner dropped her. And now don’t you start fucking asking why.
Again Karsten tried to gather his thoughts. He fumbled with the door handle. Kai’s hand came down so hard on his thigh he felt the pain shoot into his back.
– You just don’t fucking get it with that window, do you?
Karsten shrank into his seat. – I forgot, he managed to say. – Need some fresh air.
Kai growled something or other, lowered the window on the driver’s side halfway. Fortunately he turned the music up again, navigated back to the first song he’d played and started groaning away … stupid and contagious. Suddenly he howled something through the half-open window, and then he’d played it over and over again, and the fourth or fifth time Karsten was able to discern the words through the music.
– Fucking Furutunet!
Ignition devices, those things in the bag are ignition devices. The part of his brain where these thoughts accumulated was already full, but even more forced their way in. Furutunet was the name of the remand home that burned down; the guy at the police station had asked him where he was that night. A girl had died in the fire up there, and this creature sitting beside him and bellowing away at the top of his voice had four bottles of lighter fluid in a cupboard beneath his bathroom sink.
They turned into the driveway of Sæter’s house. The headlights swept across the facade and the dogs began howling loudly. The old Mazda was still parked in front of the main house, but there were no lights on in any of the windows.
– Fucking mutts, Kai growled. – Sæter shouldn’t keep dogs if he can’t look after them himself.
Karsten stared through the windscreen. The window on the driver’s side was still half open, and he sat there shivering in the thin borrowed shirt. His thumb touched a corner of the plastic bag sticking out from under the seat.
– Sæter asked Adrian to come up here and feed his dogs, but the prince always gets out of the shit jobs. So now it’s your turn instead. Kai was angry again. – Hate dogs, he barked, and turned towards Karsten. – I’m locking you in. You’ll stay here tonight and give the dogs their food. Someone’ll come out and pick you up in the morning.
– Okay, Karsten muttered without moving his gaze from a point above the dark edge of the forest on the far side of the field.
Kai switched off the engine, opened the door; the light came on. He stepped out, stopped and bent forward. Karsten still didn’t move. F
rom the corner of his eye he saw Kai fiddling with the flap in the doorpost, stick his whole hand down inside it. Suddenly he got back in and slammed the door shut hard. For a few moments he sat there without saying a word. Karsten could feel his eyes burning through the semi-darkness. The sausage he’d been holding in his hand since the petrol station slipped from his fingers and on to his lap.
– Where are they?
He thought of asking for his punishment straight away; get it over with so that he could get out and away.
– What? he managed to say, and knew it was the wrong answer even before the bunched fist hit him in the temple so hard that his head was thrown against the window.
– Don’t treat me like an idiot, Kai shouted. – Where have you hidden them?
The pain flared in every direction and met at a point somewhere in the middle of his head. He managed to wriggle a hand beneath the seat and pull the bag out. Kai turned on the light, examined it, looked as though he was counting them. As he pushed it back under the felt, Karsten opened the door and jumped out. He kicked off the slippers, raced towards the house in his stockinged feet, above the furious baying of the dogs heard the car door opening and Kai bellowing at him from behind.
He sped round the corner of the house, on through the garden and over towards the barn, pulled at the door handle he had tried the last time, found he still couldn’t open it. He threw himself to the ground, on the point of surrendering, anything to lessen the anger of the figure storming towards him. Then he caught side of the place at the end of the wall where some of the planks hung loose. He squeezed in, tumbled down, remembered in the same instant that there was an animal in there. Several animals, he heard them over in a corner, crude grunting mixed with high-pitched squeals. He lay there counting. Four seconds later, he heard footsteps in the slush outside. A low growling sound as the door handle was shaken. Karsten lay frozen to the ground. One of his legs began to shake, he held it tight with his hands, forcing it to be still.
Fireraiser Page 25
