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.
The telephone in the hallway rang.
I went out and took the call.
‘The board is giving you the go-ahead,’ said Kopfer.
I exhaled deeply, only then realising I had been holding my breath.
‘But they have certain concerns.’
‘Which are?’
‘They say that as long as the medical commission has no written documentation of the contents of the drug, the proceedings could be long-drawn-out, and it might take several years before they give us the go-ahead to begin testing on humans. Bearing in mind the size of the investment, the uncertainty and the time frame before the medicine starts to generate income...’
‘They want me to tell them the formula?’
‘Yes.’
I looked at Klara in the living room, her neck bent to drink her tea. Self-delusion, naturally. By now I was used to it. For Klara’s neck was constantly bent, its elegance a thing of the past.
‘And if documentary proof that it works on humans already exists?’ I said.
‘What do you mean?’
‘What if I am already in a position to prove to you that the compound stops the ageing process in humans?’
I heard Kopfer stop breathing at the other end.
‘Can you do that?’
Klara put down her cup. She loved the tea I made, especially the new flavour I had brought back from Africa.
‘Soon,’ I said, and hung up.
From the street below I hear loud, angry voices. Spanish, Arabic, Berber. But I can’t think about that now. Should I have brought the elephant gun with me, now hanging uselessly over the fireplace back home? No. I’m alone and have no chance to defend myself, no chance of getting away. People want to live, no matter what the cost. Or so they think. For they don’t know the price, they don’t know what the consequences will be. And the humming from the suitcase is getting stronger, more insistent. Tick-tock, the seconds pass, the walking stick approaches. Everything they can take has to go. Scorched-earth policy. Not just for Klara’s sake. Or for mine. But for humanity’s sake. I’m ashamed of myself, but this act of betrayal is the only decent thing I’ve ever done in my life.
The Betrayal
Kopfer continued to press me to divulge the formula, excusing himself by saying that he was under pressure himself from the board. But I remained adamant that the risk of someone leaking it for financial gain was just too great.
‘Ralph, making that assessment is not your call.’
‘Maybe so, but I’m doing it anyway.’
‘What I mean is that it is not your right. Your duty is to—’
‘My duty is to God and to the human race, Ludwig.’ I saw how Kopfer almost fell out of his chair at my use of his forename. ‘Not Antoil Med. Not even REC. This discovery is bigger than any company or any individual country. The first to get hold of this formula will try to monopolise it and use it for political gain. The only place I could have gone with this would be the United Nations, if it still existed. I’d rather die than hand over the formula.’
Kopfer looked at me for a long time before rising from his seat and leaving.
I stayed where I was, nervous and shaking.
There had been something sorrowing, almost suffering in that look of his. The same look I had seen on the faces of those doctors who came to us with blood samples from their patients, and we had to tell them they were suffering from hadesitt.
I took regular blood and tissue samples from Klara, lying to her and saying I was sending them to a colleague who was working on a cure for Werner syndrome. In the laboratory I was able to see that the medicine was having the same effect as on the mice; the ageing process was not merely retarded, it appeared to have come to a complete stop.
But the medicine also had a side effect we had first observed in the mice. Melissa reported that they were less active, that they stopped visiting the communal cage, and seemed lethargic. The only lively reaction we got from the mice was the way they bared their teeth at the research assistants when they were being fed. I don’t know to what extent African pygmy mice are disposed towards depression. Nor Klara, come to that. For a while I supposed that her abrupt changes of mood, her apathy and general lack of initiative were due to the thought that she would soon be dead. But I hadn’t noticed any of this before I began putting the medicine in her tea, and if the change didn’t exactly occur overnight it was nevertheless so rapid and obvious that I decided to reduce the dosage. With no apparent effect. On the contrary, it seemed as though her mood swings and her pessimism only increased, and that she had developed an addiction to the medicine. Melissa, too, reported that reducing the dosage of Ankh to two of the mice, which she had done on my advice, had had no effect on their behaviour. This only occurred once we started giving them antidepressants. Fortunately the same result was evident in Klara after I began putting a similar mixture in her tea.
One day Daniel Egger, the white-haired chairman of the board, came to my office. The Egger family owned 60 per cent of the shares in Antoil Med, and I had never seen the head of the family wearing anything other than a tweed suit and trainers and carrying a walking stick, the function of which remained unclear, since Daniel Egger trots rather than strolls when walking.
He sat down, placed his hands on the smooth top of his stick and just looked at me.
‘Imagine,’ he said after a while, smiling and displaying a row of teeth so pearly white you might almost think pearl was what they were made of. ‘In the brain directly opposite me now lies the solution to the question that mankind has been asking itself since the dawn of time. How to avoid death.’
‘Maybe so,’ I said.
‘But that is not the most surprising thing, Herr Jason.’ Egger produced a handkerchief and began to polish the tip of his cane. ‘The most surprising thing is that you are a scientist, a researcher who is prepared to betray the most important principle of science: that knowledge is there to be shared.’
‘You think Oppenheimer and his research team should have shared their knowledge of the atom bomb with Hitler and Stalin?’
‘Oppenheimer at least shared it with his superior, the president of the Western Confederation. And you are under the same obligation, Jason. It is the board and the head of this company which has provided you with the means to make your discovery and paid your wages. Your discovery is our property.’
‘My obligation is to—’
‘God and the human race. Kopfer told me what you said.’
‘Of course, I will have to reveal the formula before I die. When that time comes.’
‘That time—’ said Egger, pushing the handkerchief back into the inside pocket of his tweed jacket — ‘might come sooner than you imagine, Jason.’
I noticed that two large men, both wearing suits too small for them, were standing outside the door of my office.
I coughed. ‘Are you threatening me, Egger?’
He looked blankly at me. ‘I gathered from Kopfer that you are prepared to die in order to keep your secret.’
‘Naturally I’m worried that the discovery might do more harm than good if it falls into the wrong hands. Three world wars have been fought for less, Herr Egger. One single life isn’t so much.’
He sighed. ‘God and martyr. Diametrically opposed, and yet mankind’s two favourite roles. You’re trying to play them both, Jason. It’s not right. You’re welcome to play God, but you’re going to have to let someone else play the martyr.’