The Snowman ( PDFDrive )

‘Thank God.’
She sobbed once, buried her face in her hands and began to cry.
Harry looked down at his injured hand. Either the ties had stopped the bleeding or he was empty.
‘Where’s Mathias?’ he said quietly.
Her head bobbed up, and she gawped at him. ‘You just promised me that –’
‘Where did he go, Rakel?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Did he say anything?’
Her hand squeezed his. ‘Don’t go now, Harry. I’m sure someone else can –’
‘What did he say?’
He could tell by the way her body recoiled that he had raised his voice.
‘He said that it was finished now and he would bring it to a conclusion,’ she said as tears welled in
her dark eyes again. ‘And that the end would be a homage to life.’
‘A homage to life? Those were the words he used?’
She nodded. Harry loosened his hand from hers, stood up and went to the window. Scoured the
night sky. It had stopped snowing. He looked up at the illuminated monument that could be seen
from almost everywhere in Oslo. The ski jump. Like a white comma against the black ridge. Or a
full stop.
Harry went back to her bedside, bent down and kissed her on the forehead.
‘Where are you going?’ she whispered.
Harry raised the bloodstained hand and smiled. ‘To see a doctor.’
He left the room. Stumbled down the stairs. Came out into the cold, white darkness of the yard, but
the nausea and giddiness would not release their grip.
Hagen stood beside the Land Rover talking on a mobile phone.
He broke off the conversation and nodded when Harry asked if they could drive him.
Harry sat in the back. He was thinking about how Rakel had thanked God. She couldn’t know, of
course, that someone else deserved her thanks. Or that the buyer had accepted the offer. And that
payback time had already started.
‘Down to the city centre?’ the driver asked.