movement in the narrow passage between two of the fishermen’s cabins. I leaned forward a bit further. Now I could see him clearly. He was a big, powerfully built man. It was hard to make out his facial features in the darkness, but there was no doubt he had his eye on the boat, as though expecting something to happen.
We both stood like that for close on ten minutes, me set back from the window, expectant, him in silhouette, like a wax doll, with the whiteboat in the background. Then he slowly slid back into the passage. Immediately afterwards I heard the low creak of a door being quietly closed. Only then did I come away from the window.
Nevertheless it was more like twenty minutes before I crawled back into bed. I wasn’t able to sleep anyway, not until it began to lighten in the east, over the mountains in Masfjorden, and then it was much too late. The night shrank to nothing, and I dragged myself up in the morning, as hesitantly as a tardy butterfly, unprepared for September, the month when summer is definitively over and implacable autumn awaits on the horizon.
13
There were only two of us for breakfast, and we sat on opposite sides of the room, as silent as the wallpaper. I had nodded to the well-built man sitting at a table next to reception when I entered. He had nodded back, but said nothing.
Kristine Rørdal had set out a simple breakfast buffet, but still had to replenish it with a couple of extra fried eggs for me after the other guest had taken all of those in the tray. He was in the process of demolishing an impressive spread: a pile of bread, eggs, bacon and bean stew plus two or three big glasses of milk, a couple of cups of coffee and a sliced grapefruit. But then, judging by his size, he must have weighed around a hundred kilos, which were well distributed over the fit-looking body; he had broad shoulders, supple thighs and two hands no one would want to be on the receiving end of, not even to shake politely.
As for me, I stayed constant to my regular four slices of bread and partook of some herring in tomato sauce, pepper mackerel, ham and marmalade, as well as the two fried eggs Kristine brought to my table and served personally to ensure they didn’t also disappear down the primordial void. She was wearing the same dress as the previous evening, but looked freshly showered and sprightly, as if she’d had a good night’s sleep, all alone in her bed.
‘When are you expecting the main influx?’ I asked.
‘They’ve reserved a conference room from two o’clock, so I suppose they’ll do the on-site survey first.’
‘Ole and the others … they couldn’t even be tempted by breakfast?’
She didn’t answer, just gently shook her head and returned whence she had come.
The other guest sat at his table eating, immense and self-assured.His gaze was turned inward, almost meditative, and there was a tiny smile playing around his lips, as if what he saw inside his skull was all bright lights and laughter. I allowed the occasional glance to stray in his direction. I was fairly certain he was the man I had observed from my window last night. If I had seen him more clearly it is unlikely I would have been left in any doubt, for his appearance was quite striking. There were two pronounced clefts in his large face: one in the middle of his chin and one between his eyebrows. His hair was cropped short, dark blond, and he was dressed like a Secret Service man, in a dark-grey, made-to-measure suit with a jacket full enough to conceal a weapon in a shoulder holster. His clothing was not very well chosen if he was here to take part in the survey. However, the black, ankle-high military boots with sturdy soles were more suitable for such activities.
He didn’t hang around nursing the last cup of coffee. As soon as he had finished breakfast, he demonstratively pushed away his plate, heaved himself up, gave a brief nod and left the room at a controlled tempo, quick and efficient, without a word of thanks
We both stood like that for close on ten minutes, me set back from the window, expectant, him in silhouette, like a wax doll, with the whiteboat in the background. Then he slowly slid back into the passage. Immediately afterwards I heard the low creak of a door being quietly closed. Only then did I come away from the window.
Nevertheless it was more like twenty minutes before I crawled back into bed. I wasn’t able to sleep anyway, not until it began to lighten in the east, over the mountains in Masfjorden, and then it was much too late. The night shrank to nothing, and I dragged myself up in the morning, as hesitantly as a tardy butterfly, unprepared for September, the month when summer is definitively over and implacable autumn awaits on the horizon.
13
There were only two of us for breakfast, and we sat on opposite sides of the room, as silent as the wallpaper. I had nodded to the well-built man sitting at a table next to reception when I entered. He had nodded back, but said nothing.
Kristine Rørdal had set out a simple breakfast buffet, but still had to replenish it with a couple of extra fried eggs for me after the other guest had taken all of those in the tray. He was in the process of demolishing an impressive spread: a pile of bread, eggs, bacon and bean stew plus two or three big glasses of milk, a couple of cups of coffee and a sliced grapefruit. But then, judging by his size, he must have weighed around a hundred kilos, which were well distributed over the fit-looking body; he had broad shoulders, supple thighs and two hands no one would want to be on the receiving end of, not even to shake politely.
As for me, I stayed constant to my regular four slices of bread and partook of some herring in tomato sauce, pepper mackerel, ham and marmalade, as well as the two fried eggs Kristine brought to my table and served personally to ensure they didn’t also disappear down the primordial void. She was wearing the same dress as the previous evening, but looked freshly showered and sprightly, as if she’d had a good night’s sleep, all alone in her bed.
‘When are you expecting the main influx?’ I asked.
‘They’ve reserved a conference room from two o’clock, so I suppose they’ll do the on-site survey first.’
‘Ole and the others … they couldn’t even be tempted by breakfast?’
She didn’t answer, just gently shook her head and returned whence she had come.
The other guest sat at his table eating, immense and self-assured.His gaze was turned inward, almost meditative, and there was a tiny smile playing around his lips, as if what he saw inside his skull was all bright lights and laughter. I allowed the occasional glance to stray in his direction. I was fairly certain he was the man I had observed from my window last night. If I had seen him more clearly it is unlikely I would have been left in any doubt, for his appearance was quite striking. There were two pronounced clefts in his large face: one in the middle of his chin and one between his eyebrows. His hair was cropped short, dark blond, and he was dressed like a Secret Service man, in a dark-grey, made-to-measure suit with a jacket full enough to conceal a weapon in a shoulder holster. His clothing was not very well chosen if he was here to take part in the survey. However, the black, ankle-high military boots with sturdy soles were more suitable for such activities.
He didn’t hang around nursing the last cup of coffee. As soon as he had finished breakfast, he demonstratively pushed away his plate, heaved himself up, gave a brief nod and left the room at a controlled tempo, quick and efficient, without a word of thanks
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