Pierced (43 page)

Dokken checks Juul’s pockets and finds a mobile which appears to be switched off or dead. She can’t know for sure if he had time to share his suspicions with anyone, but it is possible. She certainly needs to make allowances for it. This means she must act quickly. So what can she do? Leave him there?

No. Not right next to Vidar’s grave. On the other side of the fountain she notices a mound of earth covered by tarpaulin. The raindrops bounce off the plastic.

The door to Henning Juul’s flat bursts open with a crash. Bjarne Brogeland nods to the fireman who destroyed the locks with a few well-aimed whacks of his axe and then forced the door open for them. Brogeland steps inside with Nora on his heels. It takes them only a few seconds to establish that the flat is empty.

‘Who was he looking for?’ Nora asks.

‘I can’t tell you anything about that,’ Brogeland replies.

‘Henning said he had found out who did it,’ Nora continues and walks closer to the kitchen table. ‘Done what?’

Again Brogeland declines to answer. Instead he narrows his eyes, annoyed at himself for not talking to Juul earlier that day when he had the chance. At that moment his mobile rings. Brogeland quickly takes it out from his inside pocket.

‘Hi, it’s me,’ Fredrik Stang says. ‘According to a Telenor aerial in Gamlebyen, Gunhild Dokken is in that area right now. Or she was there a moment ago.’

‘Gamlebyen,’ Brogeland mutters and feels someone elbowing him. He turns to Nora who is holding up a printout of an article from
Aftenposten.
Brogeland sees the photograph of Irene Otnes and Gunhild Dokken in front of Vidar Fjell’s overturned gravestone. Under the photo there is the caption about the desecration of a grave in Gamlebyen only a few days after the murder of Jocke Brolenius.

‘Bloody hell,’ Brogeland swears and looks at Nora. He issues a quick order to Stang. Seconds later they are on their way out of the flat.

Gunhild leaves the axe where it is, grabs hold of Juul’s feet and drags him away. The guy weighs next to nothing, she thinks, and looks over her shoulder to make sure she doesn’t back into the fountain. She smiles to herself. Juul’s lifeless head bumps against the flagstones. If he had been alive she imagines that might have been quite painful.

Soon she reaches the mound of earth. A thick sheet of tarpaulin is stretched across the grave which will probably be filled tomorrow. She lets go of Juul’s feet and glances around again. Still no one to be seen. She swiftly flings the tarpaulin to one side. Water pours into the two-metre-deep hole. Feet first she pulls Juul closer to the edge and peers down. She smiles again and looks at Juul.

Earth to earth. Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust.

Brogeland drives as fast as he dares down Toftesgate, frightening the life out of a woman with a pram who starts to cross the road by the entrance to Sofienberg Park even though he has switched on both the siren and the flashing blue lights. The windscreen wipers swish back and forth at full speed, sweeping the rain aside. Next to him Nora is clinging to the door handle and pressing herself into the seat as the buildings fly past.

Minutes later he drives under the ring road and turns into Schweigaardsgate. He turns off both the sirens and the blue light without taking his foot off the accelerator. Through his mobile he receives constant updates of where the rest of the units have positioned themselves and who will do what when they get there. Further down the road several patrol cars are driving across Dyvekes Bru. Brogeland runs a red light and follows them.

‘There’s his Vespa,’ Nora exclaims, pointing.

Brogeland hits the brakes without skidding and comes to a smooth halt.

‘Are you sure?’ he says.

‘Yes.’

Brogeland alerts everyone over the radio, forces the car’s tyres on to the pavement and stops. They both jump out. The trees by the fence provide some shelter against the powerful downpour, but even so they are soaked in seconds. Brogeland opens the boot and unlocks the gun case, takes out the police’s standard hand weapon – a Heckler & Koch HK P30 – and runs as quickly as he can to the nearest entrance to the cemetery. Nora follows right behind him.

Gunhild Dokken half runs back to Vidar Fjell’s grave, picks up Henning’s shoulder-bag, the axe with which she killed Jocke Brolenius and the spade. As soon as she returns to the open grave, she removes the tarpaulin that covers the mound of earth and starts shovelling it into the hole.

There is a limit to how much earth I can put in
, she thinks, since there is probably going to be a funeral the next day. It’s likely that Juul’s body will be found quickly, but she will win herself time. No one coming to the cemetery will think of looking into the hole, not once she has put the tarpaulin back over the opening. And even if anyone were to do so, all they would see is a layer of soil.

She peers into the grave and sees that she has managed to cover most of Juul’s body. Only his head, hands and part of one foot remain visible. She plunges the spade into the disturbed soil again and flings the next load into the hole. She misses Juul’s head, but carries on shovelling. This time she gets him. The soil covers almost all of his face. Satisfied, she registers that the next shovelful will hide Juul’s hands and that the following two will cover his foot and all of his head. She waits for a few seconds to make sure that Juul isn’t moving. Then she resumes digging. Just to be on the safe side.

Brogeland glances at the article they brought with them from Juul’s flat as he moves quickly down the flagstone path. In the distance he can just about make out the fountain in the mist. Around him officers are approaching with their weapons aimed straight ahead. They don’t have time to wait for Delta Force now. Every second could mean the difference between life and death.

They move with stealth. To the side of him a man whose contours he can only just make out raises a clenched fist. Everyone stops. Fresh signals are given, some officers spread out, but Brogeland walks right ahead, stops again. All he can hear is the sound of rain hitting the ground. Then he sees something further ahead. A dark female figure holding a spade, briskly shovelling soil from a pile in front of her. He sees the fringe that keeps flopping over her eyes. There is no sign of Henning Juul.

Slowly, they approach. Brogeland recognises Gunhild Dokken, but she doesn’t notice them. They stop again. The mist makes it difficult to see how far away they are, but he guesses ten or fifteen metres. Dark shadows draw near from various angles through the mist. They have got her. She is surrounded. There is nothing she can do.

Dokken carries on digging. Brogeland looks at his boss to his left a few metres away and gets the go-ahead. He takes off, screaming at the top of his voice like he always does when he wants to surprise someone. He hollers and hopes that the shock itself is enough to stun her so that she won’t have time to use weapons, destroy evidence or flee, and he gets exactly the reaction he was hoping for. Gunhild Dokken is taken by surprise and remains rooted to the spot. He can see her look of incomprehension, baffled how anyone would know to look for her in the cemetery, and she stands like a statue until Brogeland flings his arms around her, topples her to the ground and locks her in an iron grip.

Down in the grave a foot sticks out through the soil. While Brogeland pins down Gunhild Dokken, Emil Hagen jumps in, landing softly next to the foot and quickly removes the earth covering Henning Juul’s face. Brogeland leaves Dokken to his officers‚ but resists the urge to leap into the grave as well because the space is limited. He sees Hagen find Juul’s mouth and nose, and soon the rain helps wash the soil off his face. Hagen places two fingers on Juul’s neck.

‘There is no pulse,’ Hagen calls out.

‘Call an ambulance,’ Brogeland shouts.

A voice next to him replies that it is already on its way. Four, five minutes, Brogeland estimates and it will be there. He can see that Juul has sustained a heavy blow to the side of his head, probably with the spade, but with the flat side, not the edge. If that had been the case Hagen’s resuscitation attempts would very likely have been in vain. Hagen takes a deep, controlled breath before he gets to work starting with thirty heart compressions, then he blows into Henning’s nose and mouth twice. He repeats this routine several times, but there is no sign of life. They hear the sound of sirens. Hagen carries on with his desperate attempt to revive Henning Juul, who continues to lie there with his eyes closed and an almost serene expression on his face as the rain pelts him.

The sound of a roaring engine comes closer and stops nearby. Shouts and orders ensue, then the hole in the ground is filled with another man who takes over the resuscitation. Hagen is asked to leave to make room for more people in red-and-green fluorescent uniforms and he does as he is told. He jumps, gets hold of the edge and pulls himself quickly out of the grave. Still panting, Hagen joins Brogeland, and together they watch the backs of the ambulance crew. Behind them a stretcher is being prepared. Brogeland takes a step to the side and bumps into Nora, who is gnawing her fingers without blinking.

Then something happens in the grave. One of the uniformed men calls out, and Henning is hoisted up. He is coughing, first deep in his throat then higher up in his mouth. His face contorts. Someone puts their hand on his back to support him, and he sits up, leans forwards while saliva and damp soil dribble from his mouth. At the edge of the grave Nora cries out and covers her mouth with her hands. Then she closes her eyes.

Five days later

Trees and plants singed by a late summer without rain have regained some of their original colour. Henning Juul stops outside Ullevål Hospital. A few days ago he was a patient there. The doctors refused to discharge him until they were sure there were no complications. X-rays showed that he had fractured his skull, but there were no signs of blood clots.

He would clearly have died under the soil in his unconscious state if Emil Hagen and the ambulance crew hadn’t arrived in time to save him. Henning has since learned that they would never have got there so quickly if it hadn’t been for Nora and Brogeland. Exactly how he feels about that is something he hasn’t dared to address yet. There has been a lot going on. He spent one night in hospital and has been at the police station for several interviews after being discharged. He has also filed a number of stories despite the doctors telling him to take it easy for a while.

Henning walks into Iver Gundersen’s room and finds his colleague sitting up in bed. His hands are clamped around his mobile, and he appears to be using it as a steering wheel. The sound of screeching tyres and potentially fatal collisions cease the moment he spots Henning.

‘Hi,’ Iver calls out happily and chucks the mobile aside. ‘The man of the hour, back from the dead, if I’m not mistaken?’

Henning smiles. The bandages around Iver’s head are gone‚ but his face is swollen and still the colour of the Swedish flag in places. His movements, however, are quicker and more alert.

‘How are you?’ Henning asks as he takes a seat.

‘I think I should be asking you that question.’

‘I’m all right,’ Henning says. ‘My head hurts a bit, that’s all, but I’m fine.’

‘I’m not, far from it,’ Iver replies. ‘Lying here is driving me up the wall. I’m not used to it, you know. I spend most of my time racing cars.’

Henning nods and smiles.

‘Go on then. Tell me all about it. I was hoping you would show up yesterday or the day before, so what has kept you?’

‘I’ve been a bit busy lately.’

‘Yes, so I’ve noticed,’ Iver says and holds up his mobile. ‘I bet the Eagle is thrilled. I bet she doesn’t nag you about scoops any more, does she?’

Henning smiles again. ‘No, she has mellowed in the past few days. She says hello, by the way.’

‘Hm. Right then, come on. I’m going mad in here!’

‘What do you want to know?’

‘Everything!’

Henning laughs.

‘I’ve read about Dokken’s key to Petter Holte’s flat and the clock at the gym, but I haven’t seen anything about how she killed Jocke Brolenius. I’m really curious to know that. I mean, a girl versus a tough enforcer – it’s an unlikely match no matter how angry she was.’

Henning makes himself comfortable in the chair. ‘Gunhild Dokken went to the factory before Jocke and Tore. She went inside the building but left the door open so that Jocke would think that Pulli had already arrived. He was famous for his punctuality. And Jocke swallowed the bait. Dokken was waiting for him behind a pillar. As he walked past her, she attacked him quick as lightning, hitting him with the axe on the side of his neck, here, roughly,’ Henning says, demonstrating on himself. ‘The first whack nearly took his head off. The rest was easy. She hit him thirteen times in total. Back, shoulders, arms and another blow to the neck.’

‘Good God,’ Iver says. ‘That’s a lot of anger. And afterwards she broke his jaw?’

‘Yes. But she needed something more to link Pulli to the killing, and this is where the knuckle-duster comes in.’

‘I still don’t get it. Wouldn’t it have been easier to just shoot Jocke like she did with Robert van whatshisname?’

‘It might have been safer, yes. Dokken has, as far as I know, not said anything about her choice of weapon yet, but I’ve a theory about that. Have you heard about Forsete, the Norse god?’

‘No, but I prefer two-seaters, anyway. Much cooler.’

They both laugh.

‘Through his father, Vidar Fjell had developed a passion for Norse mythology, a world he probably introduced Dokken to during the years they knew each other. Remember, she designed Åsgard’s decor where everyone is having Norse sex all over the place. Dokken’s plan was to avenge the murder of Vidar Fjell – she wanted justice for him. Forsete was the god of justice in Norse mythology. And he had an axe.’