Sølve touched the mouse. The screen lit up. The word count box still told him that the manuscript so far contained 69,562 characters. His plan was to spend all evening and much of the night knitting together some of the fragments he had already written.

It didn’t work. He was too restless. Overexcited, almost, at the thought that he might be able to avoid submitting anything at all.

It was certainly worthy of a good dinner, he thought all of a sudden, and put the computer into sleep mode. He hung the yellow memory stick around his neck, and before he reached as far as the hall, he had already decided on a restaurant. The Statholdergaarden, Oslo’s gourmet restaurant, always had a table for him whether or not he had a reservation. Even now in the pre-Christmas season. For a moment he considered phoning someone, but then dropped the idea.

There were plans to make, thoughts to think, and maybe everything would go his way for once.

It would be high time.

THE MANUSCRIPT

301 OUTSIDE, OSLO CITY CENTRE, DAYTIME

The MAN goes through a gateway from a busy street. Looks down, is preoccupied with avoiding stepping on the lines on the pavement. A scattering of dry, yellow leaves indicates that autumn has just begun. The MAN stops at a closed door.

He rings the doorbell and from habit places his hand on the door, as if he is used to it opening immediately.

WOMAN’S VOICE (metallic): Yes?

MAN (smiles): You know who it is.

WOMAN’S VOICE: Didn’t you get my message?

MAN: What message?

WOMAN’S VOICE: I sent you both a letter and an email.

MAN: Saying what?

WOMAN’S VOICE: I can’t discuss that with you here on the entry phone. I suggest you check your letterbox. And your email.

MAN: Can’t I just come up and … Let me speak to …

WOMAN’S VOICE: No. Sorry.

A sharp click, the conversation is over. The MAN hovers for a few seconds before ringing the doorbell again. No one answers. The MAN hesitates briefly and then returns to the entrance door and disappears with hurried steps.

MONDAY 11 DECEMBER 2017

QUI BONO

‘I think you’re absolutely crazy. Do you know what time it is?’

‘Yes. But you probably don’t, Einar.’

It had only just become Monday.