‘Into the camera,’ Norah said.

Balder’s jaws ground.

‘Come on!’ Norah said.

‘Coco,’ Balder said. ‘Coco. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to inflict pain on you, I swear. All I was ever interested in was art. I always saw it as my duty to sound out the limits and…’

‘Shut up,’ said Norah, and he did. ‘That’s the worst apology I’ve ever heard.’

Balder looked at her like a dog eager to do a new trick for its mistress, but not quite up to the challenge.

Norah was silent for a long time. She had all the answers. Now all she had to do was make a decision. And she did. Balder must have seen it in her eyes because a look of absolute horror spread across his face. Theresa must have seen it too.

‘What are you doing?’ she asked and there was panic in her voice.

‘I’m going to put an end to this.’

‘That’s not what we agreed! We only wanted to give him a scare!’

‘Shut up,’ Grimm shouted at her. ‘The bastard thought she’d killed me and he didn’t give a fuck.’

Theresa ignored him.

‘Don’t do it,’ she said. Her voice was trembling. ‘Let’s call the police. They’ll take care of him.’

Norah didn’t reply, but only gripped the gun tighter. She could feel the sweat breaking on her upper lip.

‘Norah,’ Theresa said, desperately. ‘You can’t do this.’

Norah ignored her.

She gripped the gun in both hands and aimed.

58

22 hours earlier

When I get off the train and see the time on a display board, I know that the day I have been fearing for weeks has finally come. I fight my way through the station, a mixture of fear and relief surging through my body—afraid of what the day will bring, but at the same time glad that it will all be over in twenty-four hours. I could jump on the next train that pulls into the station, but I don’t; I go to meet the day.

Fucking February 11.

As I approach the station concourse I hear music. I find myself thinking of death and of Valerie and realise that someone is playing a requiem, but I resist the temptation to stop and listen—to let the music swallow me like the dark waters of a pond at night. I just want to get home. I keep going. The lingering sounds of the piano drift over to me and I fight my way forwards as if through a snowstorm, my arms wrapped around my body. Then the music falls quiet and a new piece begins. I know at once that something isn’t right. And although I don’t know what’s troubling me, I stop. I recognise the piece. It’s the ‘Moonlight Sonata’.

Suddenly the feeling of being watched is back. Then that revolting smell rises to my nose. And all at once I know what it is that I associate with the smell of pipe tobacco—not pipe smoke as such, but a particular old-fashioned aftershave. I have just caught a whiff of it—sweet and bitter at the same time. Nauseating. And then it comes to me. I know who it reminds me of: Professor Wolfgang Balder, Coco’s ex. The nastiest man I have ever met. The man who destroyed Coco’s life. The man who lost me my job, my relationship, all my old life.