The Jealousy Man and Other Stories
- Автор: Несбё Ю
- Год: 2021
- Язык: английский
- Год: Alfred A. Knopf
- ISBN: 978-0-593-32100-3
- Переводчик: Robert Ferguson
- Жанр: Криминальные детективы
Электронная книга - «The Jealousy Man and Other Stories». Краткое содержание книги:
A detective with a nose for jealousy is on the trail of a man suspected of murdering his twin; a bereaved father must decide whether vengeance has a place in the new world order after a pandemic brings about the collapse of society; a garbage man fresh off a bender tries to piece together what happened the night before; a hired assassin matches wits against his greatest adversary in a dangerous game for survival; and an instantly electric connection between passengers on a flight to London may spell romance, or something more sinister.
With Nesbø’s characteristic gift for outstanding atmosphere and gut-wrenching revelations, The Jealousy Man confirms that he is at the peak of his abilities.
‘And now at least we know you aren’t the best, Herr Meyer.’ She looked into my eyes as she brushed something from the lapel of my Brioni tuxedo, though I knew there was nothing there.
‘Excuse me, Herr Meyer, I’ve got someone waiting for me.’
She must have seen how I lifted my gaze above her shoulder and slowly shook my head, because she tensed, turned and looked up at one of the interior balconies in the atrium. It was too dark for her to see whether there was anyone in the darkness behind the open balcony door, but when she lowered her gaze she saw the red dot of a laser beam dancing across her gown.
‘How long has that been there?’ she asked.
‘Red on red,’ I said. ‘I doubt whether any of the guests have noticed it yet.’
‘And how long have you known that Anna Vogel doesn’t exist?’
‘Three days. I asked for every name on the list to be double-checked, and when Anna Vogel cropped up and there’s no one of that name in the Tokyo cartel it naturally made me curious about who you might be. And it looks as if my guess was right.’
That smile of hers was no longer quite so steady.
‘What happens now?’
‘Now you go back to the person waiting for you and tell him that he’s the one who’s been sent a message.’
Judith Szabó stood there, studying me. I knew what she was wondering about. Whether I had planned to let her go or had made my mind up on the spot.
Whatever, two weeks later I would have reason to regret that decision.
Fourth ring.
She always has a phone close by, always. Please, Judith.
Fifth ring.
Don’t be dead.
I called her two weeks after that meeting at the Sforzesco Palace.
‘Hello,’ was all she said.
I recognised her voice at once. Probably because I’d been thinking about her.
‘Hi,’ I said. ‘I’m calling because you rang this number. Can I ask how you got it?’
‘No,’ she said. ‘But you can ask if I’m free for dinner this evening.’
‘Are you?’
‘Yes. The table’s booked. Seven o’clock at Seta.’
‘That’s early. Will I survive?’
‘If you’re punctual.’
I smiled at what I took to be a joke.
But I was on time. And she was already seated at the table when I arrived. As before, I was struck by the austerity of her beauty. No sweetness, just healthy, symmetrical and properly proportioned. But then those eyes of hers. Those eyes...
‘You’re a widower,’ she said, once we had got a little shop talk out of the way without revealing any secrets.
‘What makes you think that?’
She nodded in the direction of my hand. ‘No driver wears a wedding ring. It tells you something about them. It makes them potentially vulnerable, knowing that there’s someone they love.’
‘Maybe I wear it as a distraction. Or maybe I’m divorced.’
‘Maybe. The pain in your eyes tells me something different.’
‘Maybe that’s from all the victims I have on my conscience.’
‘Is it?’
‘No.’
‘Well then?’
‘Tell me something about yourself first.’
‘What do you want to know?’
‘There’s probably quite a difference between what I want to know and what I’m permitted to know. Start anywhere you like.’
She smiled, tasted the wine and nodded to the wine waiter who, without asking, had known who would be doing the tasting.
‘I’m from a well-to-do family. My every material need was met, but none of my emotional needs. The closest to that was my father, who abused me regularly from the age of eleven. What d’you think a psychologist would make of that and my ending up in this business?’
‘You tell me.’
‘I’ve got three university degrees, no children, I’ve lived in six countries and always earned more than my lovers and my ex-husband, and I was permanently bored. Until I started in this business. First as a client. Then as... a little more. Right now I’m Gio Greco’s girlfriend.’
‘Why not the other way round?’
‘What d’you mean?’
‘Why don’t you say Gio Greco is your boyfriend? You use the passive form.’
‘Isn’t that what strong men’s women usually do?’
‘You don’t strike me as someone who’s easy to dominate. Right now, you say: that makes it sound like a purely temporary arrangement.’
‘And you sound like a person preoccupied with semantics.’
‘The mouth overflows with what the heart is full of — isn’t that what they say?’
She raised her glass and we drank a toast.
‘Am I mistaken?’ I asked.
She shrugged. ‘Aren’t all relationships temporary arrangements? Some end when the love is gone, or the money, or the entertainment value. Others when there’s no life left. What happened in your case?’
I twirled the thick-bellied wine glass between my fingers. ‘The latter.’
‘Competitors’ drivers?’
I shook my head. ‘It was before I entered the business. She took her own life. Our son died in a fire the year before.’
‘Grief?’
‘And guilt.’
‘And was she? Guilty?’
I shook my head. ‘The guilty one was the maker of the Mickey Mouse lamp in the bedroom. It was made of a cheap and highly inflammable material in order to undercut the competition. The maker denied any guilt. He was one of the richest men in France.’
‘Was?’
‘He died in a fire.’
‘We aren’t by any chance talking about François Augvieux who burned to death on board his yacht in the harbour at Cannes?’
I didn’t answer.
‘So that was you. We always wondered who it was. There was no very obvious client. An impressive debut. Because it was your debut, wasn’t it?’
‘The world doesn’t need people who refuse to use their power to do something good.’
Again she put her head on one side, as though to study me from another angle. ‘Is that the reason you’re in this business? To kill unscrupulous profiteers and revenge your son and wife?’
It was my turn to shrug. ‘You’d have to ask a psychologist about that. But tell me, what would the Greek make of you and me sitting here and dining together this evening?’
‘What would? What makes you think he doesn’t know?’
‘Does he?’
She smiled quickly. ‘He’s out on a job. And I’m on a job too. I’d like to have you in my stable.’
‘You make me sound like a racehorse.’
‘You got anything against that?’
‘Not the analogy. But I don’t need a fixer.’
‘Oh, but you do. You’re too easily outmanoeuvred without one. You need someone who’s got your back.’
‘The way I recall it, you were the one who got outmanoeuvred.’
‘I hope you don’t take this personally, Lukas, but you shouldn’t be here right now, you should be with your client.’
I could feel my pulse quicken.
‘Thanks, Judith, but Giualli’s safe enough in his fortress; and there are no traitors in our crew, I’ve made sure of that personally.’
Judith Szabó took something out of her Gucci bag and placed it on the tablecloth in front of me. It was a drawing or a print. It showed a cat running with something that looked like a lit explosive charge fastened to its body. In the background was a castle.
‘This is a 500-year-old illustration of an offensive tactic used by the Germans back in the sixteenth century. They would capture a cat or a dog that had found its way out through one of those little escape routes animals always find as a way out of the fortress or village they come from, then tie an explosive charge to it and drive it home. And hope the animal would get back up through its tunnel before the fuse burned down.’