Nemesis

Read Nemesis for Free Online

Book: Read Nemesis for Free Online
Authors: Jo Nesbø
Traverveien already knew that these were the new conquerors; that they would have hegemony over the new country.
    ‘Doesn’t seem to be at home,’ Harry said, pressing the button once more. ‘Are you sure he understood we were coming this afternoon?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘No?’ Harry turned and looked down at Beate Lønn shivering under the umbrella. She was wearing a skirt and high-heeled shoes,and when she picked him up outside Schrøder’s it had crossed his mind that she seemed to be dressed for a coffee morning.
    ‘Grette confirmed the meeting twice when I rang,’ she said. ‘But he seemed completely . . . out of it.’
    Harry leaned across the step and flattened his nose against the kitchen window. It was dark inside and all he could see was a white Nordea Bank calendar on the wall.
    ‘Let’s go back,’ he said.
    At that moment the neighbour’s kitchen window opened with a bang. ‘Are you looking for Trond?’
    The words were articulated in bokmål , standard Norwegian, but in a Bergen accent with such strong trilled ‘r’s that it sounded like a medium-sized train being derailed. Harry turned round and gazed into a woman’s brown, wrinkled face caught in an attempt to smile and appear grave at the same time.
    ‘We are,’ Harry confirmed.
    ‘Family?’
    ‘Police.’
    ‘Right,’ the woman said and dropped the funereal expression. ‘I thought you had come to express your sympathy. He’s on the tennis court, poor thing.’
    ‘Tennis court?’
    She pointed. ‘On the other side of the field. He’s been there since four o’clock.’
    ‘But it’s dark,’ Beate said. ‘And it’s raining.’
    The woman rolled her shoulders. ‘Must be the grief, I suppose.’ She trilled her ‘r’s so much that Harry began to think about when he was growing up in Oppsal and about the bits of cardboard they used to insert in cycle wheels so they flapped against the spokes.
    ‘You grew up in East Oslo, too, I can hear,’ Harry said as he and Beate walked towards where the woman had indicated. ‘Or am I mistaken?’
    ‘No,’ Beate said, unwilling to expatiate.
    The tennis court was positioned halfway between the blocks andthe terraced houses. They could hear the dull thud of racquet strings on wet tennis ball. Inside the high wire-mesh fence they could make out a figure standing and serving in the quickly gathering autumn gloom.
    ‘Hello!’ Harry shouted when they reached the fence, but the man didn’t answer. It was only now that they saw he was wearing a jacket, shirt and tie.
    ‘Trond Grette?’
    A ball hit a black puddle of water, bounced up, hit the fence and sprayed them with a fine shower of rainwater, which Beate fended off with her umbrella.
    Beate pulled at the gate. ‘He’s locked himself in,’ she whispered.
    ‘Police! Officers Hole and Lønn!’ Harry yelled. ‘We were due to meet. Can we . . . Christ!’ Harry hadn’t seen the ball until it lodged itself in the wire fence with a smack a few centimetres from his face. He wiped the water from his eyes and looked down: he had been spray-painted with dirty, reddish-brown water. Harry automatically turned his back when he saw the man toss up the next ball.
    ‘Trond Grette!’ Harry’s shout echoed between the blocks. They watched a tennis ball curve in an arc towards the lights in the blocks before being swallowed by the dark and landing somewhere in the field. Harry faced the tennis court again, only to hear a wild roar and see a figure rushing towards him out of the dark. The metal fence squealed as it checked the charging tennis player. He fell onto the shale on all fours, picked himself up, took a run-up and charged the fence again. Fell, got up and charged.
    ‘My God, he’s gone nuts,’ Harry mumbled. He instinctively took a step back as a white face with staring eyes loomed up in front of him. Beate had managed to switch on a torch and shone it at Grette, who was hanging on the fence. With wet, black hair stuck to his white forehead,

Similar Books

Thanksgiving Groom

Brenda Minton

Fortune Found

Victoria Pade

Divas Las Vegas

Rob Rosen

Double Trouble

Steve Elliott