Pierced by Thomas Enger Page B

tried to give them a sense of belonging. A couple of the young people he helped even ended up working there. Vidar was a really great guy.”
    Nansen lights up another cigarette.
    “And he had a zero tolerance policy as far as dope, steroids, and all that was concerned. If you messed about with drugs in his gym, you were out on your ear. But Jocke Brolenius didn’t give a toss about that. He even tried to recruit some of the kids Vidar had managed to straighten out.”
    Nansen curls her lips around the cigarette and sucks greedily.
    “Because of who Brolenius was, he was given a friendly warning first. But he didn’t listen so Vidar threw him out.”
    “And Brolenius took offense?”
    “Oh, yes.”
    Henning recalls that Fjell was attacked in his office and that he died of a brain hemorrhage as a result of the injuries he sustained. The fact that he was a hemophiliac and wasn’t found until the following day by one of his staff didn’t exactly improve his chances.
    “Why didn’t the police arrest Brolenius?”
    “They interviewed him as far as I know, but he denied having anything to do with the murder.”
    “And there was no incriminating evidence?”
    “No,” Nansen replies, crossing her feet while she leans back. “But everyone knew it was him. When the police failed to do their job, it didn’t exactly calm the troubled waters down at Fighting Fit. But Tore put his foot down. He knew exactly what Brolenius was like and who his friends were, and he wanted to prevent a bloodbath. That was why he invited Brolenius to a meeting. To see if the two of them could settle the conflict.”
    Henning tries to visualize the scenario.
    “Why did he think he could do that?”
    “I don’t know. I tried talking him out of it because I thought it was a crap idea.”
    “Did a lot of people know about this meeting?”
    “Yes, a fair number, I think. Everyone was talking about it, both here and at the gym. Tore eventually managed to convince them that nothing good would come from killing Brolenius. He asked them to trust him.”
    Henning looks at her pensively.
    “So what do you think happened?”
    “I think someone got there before Tore, killed Brolenius, and ran off before Tore arrived.”
    “That sounds risky.”
    “Yes, perhaps. But they succeeded.”
    “They?”
    Henning raises an eyebrow.
    “Yes, I don’t really know why I say that. But somehow it sounds more likely than him or her.”
    Henning turns his head and looks across the kitchen. A long pause follows.
    “On the phone you said to me that ‘if you had known what I know, then you would have done Tore a favor and turned down the job.’ What did you mean by that?”
    Some moments pass before she answers.
    “It suits a lot of people very well that Tore is where he is.”
    “And what do you mean by that?”
    Henning attempts a smile, but Nansen’s stern armor remains intact.
    “Let’s start with the police,” she says and blows smoke out into the room with an air of resignation. “They’ve been trying to get something on Tore for years. And when the opportunity finally presented itself, they grabbed it with both hands.”
    “And did they have any reasons for wanting to get Tore?”
    Nansen taps the ashes off her cigarette with an angry index finger.
    “No one is saying that Tore was a choirboy, at least not until he stopped working as a debt collector. But he didn’t kill Brolenius. He was trying to keep Brolenius from getting killed. But when the police discovered there was evidence that implicated Tore, it suited them perfectly. It meant they didn’t have to look for anyone else.”
    “So the police deliberately failed to investigate important leads? Is that what you’re saying?”
    Nansen sucks in one last drag before stubbing out the cigarette.
    “The police force is riddled with incompetent two-faced idiots.”
    The glance she throws out into the room is bitter, but she doesn’t elaborate. Henning considers the wisdom of discussing this