I said sourly: ‘I’m afraid I won’t be able to sleep. Is there any chance I can speak to a solicitor?’

He unleashed one of his special smiles. It was rigid. ‘Of course, Veum. Tomorrow. Tomorrow there’ll be the hearing and lawyers and all the fun of the fair. Press statement and morning conferences, fingerprints and witness interviews. Nothing will be as before, Veum. Nothing.’

‘Thank you. And who’s taking me down?’

‘Ellingsen will. Ellingsen, cuff him this time. That makes a better impression.’133

‘We’re not taking the lift, are we? I’ve heard about what you do to suspects in there,’ I said.

Muus smiled. ‘Yes, our pleasure. Take him in the lift, Ellingsen. Up and down a few times. That softens them up. Most of them confess after that.’

‘I meant that as a joke,’ I said.

‘Me, too,’ said Dankert Muus.

134

18

The cell wasn’t as luxurious as he had promised. Eight paces in one direction, four in the other covered the whole area. My marathon training would be severely disrupted if I stayed here for longer than a day.

High up on one wall a narrow window with frosted, wired glass would have let in light if it had been earlier in the day. A plank bed was attached to one wall, and at the back of the cell there was a drain in the floor which I could have crawled into and hidden in if I had been the size of a toy mouse. Alternatively, I could use it for other pleasurable activities.

A few hotel suites down, a croaky voice was singing a very personal version of ‘Silent Night’. From the other side came a low, hurried mumble, like less confident souls bidding at a herring auction. Later in the evening it would be livelier, when they brought in the more unruly weekend revellers and flushed out the dregs from Sunday’s glass of cheer.

I lay back on the plank with my hands behind my head and my eyes shut.

It was only now that Johnny’s death was hitting home. The shock was delayed. As with all sudden deaths it took you time to absorb what had happened, that someone had passed the point of no return.

I could see him there, lying on his back on the cellar steps, like a drunk who had lost his bearings. I saw his eyes when he caught sight of me, purged of derision and full of desperation. I saw his 135mouth open to say something, the blood issuing forth, the big bubbles of air in it and the gaze that was no longer there, the whites of his eyes. I saw the deserted street, the grey shreds of sleet falling from the heavy sky, a lupine wind that hunted in packs down the street, and I heard … the sound of running footsteps. Had I left the Hot Spot thirty seconds earlier I might have seen everything, the person fleeing – the person Johnny had met. The person who had killed him.