in any of the common rooms.
‘He must have left his cell when Johannes opened all the doors from the control room last night.’ Goldsrud was standing in the doorway.
‘Dear Lord,’ Harnes whispered and out of habit pressed his finger against the bridge of his nose where his glasses used to sit until he had paid 15,000 kroner cash last year for laser surgery in Thailand. ‘If he has absconded—’
‘Shut up,’ Franck hissed. ‘He can’t have made it past the guards. He’s still in here somewhere. Goldsrud, raise the alarm. Lock every door – no one gets in or out.’
‘But I need to take my kids to—’
‘Including you.’
‘What about the police?’ one of the prison officers said. ‘Shouldn’t they be informed?’
‘No!’ Franck yelled. ‘Lofthus is still inside Staten, I tell you! Not a word to anyone.’
Arild Franck glowered at the old man. He had locked the door behind him and made sure that there were no prison officers standing outside it.
‘Where is Sonny?’
Johannes lay in his bed, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. ‘Isn’t he in his cell?’
‘You know damn well he isn’t.’
‘Then he must have escaped.’
Franck bent down, grabbed the old man’s T-shirt by the neck and pulled him towards him.
‘Wipe that grin off your face, Johannes. I know that the security guards outside haven’t seen anything so he has to be in here. And if you don’t tell me where he is, you can wave goodbye to your cancer treatment.’ Franck saw the look of astonishment on the old man’s face. ‘Oh, you can forget about doctor–patient confidentiality, I’ve eyes and ears everywhere. So what’s it to be?’ He released his hold on Johannes, whose head fell back on the pillow.
The old man smoothed his thinning hair and folded his hands behind his head. He cleared his throat. ‘Do you know something, Governor? I think I’ve lived long enough. There’s no one waiting for me on the outside. And my sins have been forgiven, so for the first time I might just have a chance to get in upstairs. Perhaps I should take that chance while I still have it. What do you think?’
Arild Franck clenched his teeth so hard it felt as if his fillings might crack.
‘What I think will happen, Johannes, is that you’ll discover that not a single one of your sins has been forgiven. Because in here I am God and I can guarantee you a slow and painful death from cancer. I’ll make sure that you stay here in your cell while the cancer eats you up without ever seeing as much as a glimpse of pain relief. And you wouldn’t be the first, let me tell you.’
‘Rather that than whatever hell you’re going to, Governor.’
Franck wasn’t sure if the gurgling noises coming from the old man’s throat were death throes or laughter.
On his way back to cell 317 Franck checked his walkie-talkie again. Still no trace of Sonny Lofthus. He knew they would soon be forced to issue a wanted bulletin.
He went in to cell 317, landed heavily on the bed and scanned the floor, walls and ceiling with his eyes. He couldn’t bloody believe it. He grabbed the Bible on the bedside table and hurled it against the wall. It fell open on the floor. He knew that Vollan had used the Bible to smuggle in heroin and he glanced at the mangled pages. Damaged creeds and broken sentences with no meaning.
He swore and threw the pillow against the wall.
He watched it land on the floor. Stared at the hair that spilled out. Reddish hair that looked like tufts of beard and some long strands. He kicked the pillow. More matted, dirty blond hair drifted out.
Short-haired. Newly shaven.
And it was at that moment it finally dawned on him.
‘Night shift!’ he screamed into the walkie-talkie. ‘Check all the officers who left at the end of the night shift!’
Franck looked at his watch. 8.10 a.m. He knew what had happened now. And he knew that it was too late to do anything about it. He got up and kicked the chair which smashed into the shatter-proof
‘He must have left his cell when Johannes opened all the doors from the control room last night.’ Goldsrud was standing in the doorway.
‘Dear Lord,’ Harnes whispered and out of habit pressed his finger against the bridge of his nose where his glasses used to sit until he had paid 15,000 kroner cash last year for laser surgery in Thailand. ‘If he has absconded—’
‘Shut up,’ Franck hissed. ‘He can’t have made it past the guards. He’s still in here somewhere. Goldsrud, raise the alarm. Lock every door – no one gets in or out.’
‘But I need to take my kids to—’
‘Including you.’
‘What about the police?’ one of the prison officers said. ‘Shouldn’t they be informed?’
‘No!’ Franck yelled. ‘Lofthus is still inside Staten, I tell you! Not a word to anyone.’
Arild Franck glowered at the old man. He had locked the door behind him and made sure that there were no prison officers standing outside it.
‘Where is Sonny?’
Johannes lay in his bed, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. ‘Isn’t he in his cell?’
‘You know damn well he isn’t.’
‘Then he must have escaped.’
Franck bent down, grabbed the old man’s T-shirt by the neck and pulled him towards him.
‘Wipe that grin off your face, Johannes. I know that the security guards outside haven’t seen anything so he has to be in here. And if you don’t tell me where he is, you can wave goodbye to your cancer treatment.’ Franck saw the look of astonishment on the old man’s face. ‘Oh, you can forget about doctor–patient confidentiality, I’ve eyes and ears everywhere. So what’s it to be?’ He released his hold on Johannes, whose head fell back on the pillow.
The old man smoothed his thinning hair and folded his hands behind his head. He cleared his throat. ‘Do you know something, Governor? I think I’ve lived long enough. There’s no one waiting for me on the outside. And my sins have been forgiven, so for the first time I might just have a chance to get in upstairs. Perhaps I should take that chance while I still have it. What do you think?’
Arild Franck clenched his teeth so hard it felt as if his fillings might crack.
‘What I think will happen, Johannes, is that you’ll discover that not a single one of your sins has been forgiven. Because in here I am God and I can guarantee you a slow and painful death from cancer. I’ll make sure that you stay here in your cell while the cancer eats you up without ever seeing as much as a glimpse of pain relief. And you wouldn’t be the first, let me tell you.’
‘Rather that than whatever hell you’re going to, Governor.’
Franck wasn’t sure if the gurgling noises coming from the old man’s throat were death throes or laughter.
On his way back to cell 317 Franck checked his walkie-talkie again. Still no trace of Sonny Lofthus. He knew they would soon be forced to issue a wanted bulletin.
He went in to cell 317, landed heavily on the bed and scanned the floor, walls and ceiling with his eyes. He couldn’t bloody believe it. He grabbed the Bible on the bedside table and hurled it against the wall. It fell open on the floor. He knew that Vollan had used the Bible to smuggle in heroin and he glanced at the mangled pages. Damaged creeds and broken sentences with no meaning.
He swore and threw the pillow against the wall.
He watched it land on the floor. Stared at the hair that spilled out. Reddish hair that looked like tufts of beard and some long strands. He kicked the pillow. More matted, dirty blond hair drifted out.
Short-haired. Newly shaven.
And it was at that moment it finally dawned on him.
‘Night shift!’ he screamed into the walkie-talkie. ‘Check all the officers who left at the end of the night shift!’
Franck looked at his watch. 8.10 a.m. He knew what had happened now. And he knew that it was too late to do anything about it. He got up and kicked the chair which smashed into the shatter-proof
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