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.
‘How much did you have to offer Kevin to kill Dumbo?’
‘Not much,’ he whispered.
‘No, because Kevin’s serving life already so he had nothing to lose.’
‘Nothing to lose,’ Ragnar repeated. His head was dangling now.
‘I’m presuming you didn’t tell anyone here you were planning to have a member of the gang liquidated?’
‘All the weapons, the food...’ Ragnar groaned, his chin on his chest. ‘Without me we wouldn’t have had anything.’
‘We would have had Dumbo.’
Ragnar didn’t reply. His body had rotated back to its original position.
‘OK,’ I said, addressing the others. ‘Those who are against me sentencing this person to death, raise your hand.’
No hands.
‘The condemned man gets to choose. Do you want to hang there till you die or do you want a bullet?’
Ragnar lifted his head slightly. His eyelids looked heavier. I had to make an effort to hear what he was saying: ‘I’ll take that bullet.’
I raised the Remington, pressed my cheek against the cool, good butt of the rifle. With an effort Ragnar lifted his head again slightly, as though to make my job easier. Aiming for his forehead I had the idea of trying to make the bullet-hole form a triangle with the eyes.
Then I fired.
XVI
I met Adele Matheson and Chief Inspector Gardell at the airport in the morning. It had been closed during the pandemic, when most of the privately owned airlines had gone bankrupt and never opened up again.
I’d parked out on the runway and could see the cars driving towards me like undulating spectres through the shimmering heat haze. As they got closer their outlines became clearer; one was a police car, the other a low, red sports car. They parked one on each side of me and we all got out.
‘Thanks for coming,’ I said.
‘No need, but I don’t have much time,’ said Adele Matheson.
‘Why here?’ asked Gardell, who was still wearing sunglasses.
‘The visibility’s good,’ I said. I knew they had noticed the Kalashnikov lying on my passenger seat. ‘I just wanted to let you know that as from this afternoon Brad Lowe will be a free man. I’ve arranged for one of his relatives to fetch him.’
Matheson nodded. ‘Chief Inspector Gardell and I take this as being simply information you possess and not implying in any way involvement in any potential case of false imprisonment.’
‘I expressed myself in such a way as to allow of that interpretation.’
‘Then you won’t get any problems from us,’ said Adele Matheson.
‘What remains to be seen, of course, is how Brad Lowe interprets it. If he makes a complaint against me then you know where I am.’
‘If that’s all, then I have a case in court in an hour’s time,’ said Matheson.
I offered my hand. At first she just looked at it as though I had made a gesture that was obscene or at best old-fashioned. Then she shook it lightly. Gardell remained standing where she was as Matheson headed back to her Ferrari. ‘Why?’ she asked.
‘Haven’t I answered that question once before?’
‘That business about respect for the courts and the rule of law? I don’t buy any of that. Put it another way: I think you’re as driven by revenge as the rest of us.’
‘An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth,’ I said as I watched Matheson’s red wonder turning dreamlike in the haze. ‘It’s from the law of Moses, one of the earliest collection of laws we know of. It says the perpetrator must pay in kind for the harm done to others. But how can a perpetrator pay for having taken away a member of someone else’s family? The greatest harm isn’t necessarily to the one whose life has been lost but to those who have lost someone they love. The ones left behind who have to live with the loss, the pain and the guilt. The perpetrator should have to live with the same pain.’
‘An eye for an eye,’ said Gardell.
‘It’s a good law,’ I said.
And once she had left I got back into my car and looked at the gun.
I waited. Peering into the haze. Waited.
Then it came. A large black SUV, the same one I had seen driving away from the villa after the attack. Colin Lowe’s car.
Brad wept when I told him I was setting him free and that soon someone I hoped he loved would come and pick him up.
‘I don’t deserve it,’ he sniffled as the tears dripped down onto the mattress.
‘You’ve been here for a while now.’ Then I had to steel myself for what I said next: ‘And everyone deserves a second chance.’
‘You know what, Mr Adams? I’ve learned more from you in the short time I’ve been here than I did from my father during all of my upbringing.’ His mouth opened and closed before a sob came out. ‘I’m so sorry Amy’s dead. I know there’s nothing I can do for you, but...’
I laid a hand on his shoulder. ‘There is something you can do. Chung and Larsen moved out yesterday and I need a strong man to help me move the ammo back here.’
He gave me a puzzled look.
‘Heidi and I need somewhere in the basement to store food,’ I lied. ‘In here it’ll just attract rats through the sewage pipe, so I’m going to have to use this room for ammo.’
‘I’m ready.’
Brad didn’t even ask me why I didn’t simply block off the pipe but just got down to work carrying crate after crate of bullets, grenades, dynamite and petrol.
By the time we were finished we were both sweating and exhausted. Maybe there’s something in the idea that hard physical labour creates a bond between men. I offered him a beer but he declined, saying he knew beer was in short supply and asked if he could have some water instead. It made me recall something a forensic psychiatrist told me once, how people will often say they made a mistake and were taken in by a man who devoted all his spare time to helping the poor and then turned out to have been a serial child abuser. But, said the psychiatrist, they hadn’t made a mistake or been fooled. What was good in the man had really helped these people. It wasn’t done as a cover for the other things he was doing. It’s simply that people aren’t either all good or all bad. Not Brad, not his father, and not me.
Night descends over the Lowe building as the enormous, insect-like helicopter prepares to land with a deafening roar. We stand watching in silence as the air is whipped up and the hairstyles and ties and dresses whirl about us. A few drops of champagne from Colin’s glass sting my face like icy sleet and I taste the bitter sweetness in my open mouth.
And then the helicopter is down, the engine turned off and the rotor arms still spinning as the high-pitched whining gradually descends and decreases in volume and pitch.
Colin looks at me. Liza and Beth are standing by his side.
‘Final group, board now!’ shouts a voice from the helicopter door.
A dozen people swarm towards him.
Colin straightens his back, and I feel my eyes filling with tears.
The way they had done five days ago, when the Larsens and the Chungs took their few possessions and moved out. Larsen spent his money on a smallholding in the south, a place where they could grow their own food and be less affected by the collapse than in the cities. Chung had bought a fishing boat, and a lighthouse for his family to live in.
The way they had filled with tears when Brad left the villa four days earlier.