‘Why did you help her?’

‘Because I got to know her there. My father…’

‘Yes, I heard. Did you know she was Johnny’s daughter?’

‘Not until … later.’

I considered her answer. ‘When exactly?’

‘I don’t remember.’

I nodded. ‘OK. Well, then I won’t … But before I go, I’d like to call the police and report this.’

She raised a hand in protest. ‘I-I’ll do it. I promise. I must have a … bath first.’

‘You won’t try anything funny?’

‘No, no.’

I watched her. Then I put my notebook in my inside pocket, thanked her and wished her luck, with everything.

Once I was outside I heard her hurriedly slide the security chain across.

I looked up the stairwell and ran up to the next landing to make sure there wouldn’t be a repeat performance of the previous incident.

It was empty. The bird had flown. But I knew where it had its coop and I was headed there now.

351

44

Stig Madsen lived in a low-rise block in Lønborg, halfway between Eidsvågsneset and Helleneset. From here it looked like a small step to cross the fjord to Askøy. But it was further than one imagined and you would get your feet wet.

He had a flat on the first floor, to the right, and there were no other names on the door plate than his.

I leaned on the bell. I felt like Father Christmas, but the present I had for him wasn’t one he would enjoy.

The door opened with a bang and Stig Madsen stood there with a rumpled moustache, thinning hair standing on end and an expression that said he had been awoken from a deep, deep sleep. Nothing could have pleased me more.

I stuck a foot in the door, stepped forward two paces and slammed him hard against the wall.

‘What the…?’ He shook his head, still groggy from sleep.

I kicked the door shut behind me. ‘…Hell!’ I completed the sentence for him, forced his left arm up under his chin, blocked any movement from his legs with a half-raised thigh and held his right hand to avoid potential punches.

‘Veum? What the fuck’s this supposed to mean?’ But it didn’t seem to me that he needed any explanation.

‘It means thanks for our previous encounter in the stairwell outside Belinda’s on Wednesday. And it means that’s where I’ve just come from.’

‘From…?’352

‘Belinda’s.’

‘From Belinda’s?’ At first he went pale, then he woke up. ‘So? Let me go, for Christ’s sake. You’re hurting me.’

‘That’s the idea. How much do you think Belinda’s hurting right now?’

‘Agghhh!’ He grimaced. ‘The bloody tart. You saw yourself how she carries on, but she played hard to get with me.’

‘You raped her.’

‘She was asking for it.’

‘Tell that to—’

‘You can bet your life I will. To the cops and the jury and the whole shit-show if I have to. She was asking for it, Veum. Didn’t you see for yourself? After all, you were dancing with her, weren’t you?’