Sivertsen rested his head against the wall and closed his eyes.

‘It must sound cynical, but you can take it from me that every declaration of love that came out of my mouth was just as genuine and sincere as those my stepmother received from my father. I gave them everything I had, until it was over and I showed them the door. I couldn’t afford a sanatorium. It always ended like that and that was how I thought it would always be. Until one autumn day I went into the cafe in Grand Hotel Europa in Wenceslas Square and there she was. Eva. Yes, that was her name, and it’s not true that para-doxes do not exist, Hole. The first thing that struck me was that she was no beauty; she just behaved like one. However, people who are convinced that they are beautiful are beautiful. I have a certain knack with women and I went over to her. She didn’t tell me to go to hell; she just treated me with a distant courtesy that drove me wild.’

Sivertsen gave a knowing smile.

‘There’s no stronger aphrodisiac for a man than a woman who’s not in love. She was twenty-six years younger than me, had more style than I will ever have and – most of all – she didn’t need me. She could continue with her work that she thinks I know nothing about, whipping German businessmen and giving them blow jobs.’

‘So why didn’t she?’ Harry asked, puffing smoke at Iggy.

‘She didn’t have a chance. I was in love, enough for two men, but I wanted her for myself, and Eva is like most women who are not in love – she values economic security. So, to acquire exclusivity I had to acquire some money. Smuggling blood diamonds from Sierre Leone was low-risk, but it did not produce enough money to make me irresistibly wealthy. Drugs was high-risk. That was how I got into smuggling arms and met Prince. We met twice in Prague to agree on procedures and conditions. The second time was in an open-air restaurant in Vaclav Square. I persuaded Eva to act the photo-snapping tourist, and the table where Prince and I were sitting happened to come up on the majority of the photos. People who don’t settle their accounts after I’ve done jobs for them usually receive a photo in the post together with a reminder. It works. Prince was promptitude personified, though, and I’ve never had any trouble with him. I only found out that he was a policeman some time later.’

Harry closed the window and sat on the sofa bed.

‘In spring I received a phone call,’ Sivertsen said. ‘From a Norwegian with an Ostland dialect. I’ve no idea how he managed to get hold of my telephone number. He seemed to know all about me. It was almost creepy. No, it was creepy. He knew who my mother was, about the prison sentences I had had, and about the pentagram-shaped blood diamonds I had specialised in for years. Worst of all, though: he knew I had started smuggling guns. He wanted both. A diamond and a Ceska with a silencer. He offered an unimaginably high sum. I said “no” to the weapon, that it would have to go via another channel, but he insisted it had to come directly through me, no middle-man. He raised his offer. And Eva is, as I have said, a demanding woman, and I couldn’t afford to lose her. So we agreed.’

‘What exactly did you agree?’

‘He had very specific requests regarding the delivery. It had to take place in Frogner Park, directly below the Monolith. The first delivery was just over five weeks ago. It had to be at five o’clock, in the peak period when tourists were about and people were walking in the park after work. That made it easier for him and for me to get in and out without attracting attention, he said. The chances of me being recognised were minimal anyway. Many years ago, at my local bar in Prague, I saw a Norwegian guy who used to beat me up at school. He looked right through me. He and a lady I had while she was honeymooning in Prague are the only people from Oslo I’ve seen since I moved away from here, you know.’

Harry nodded.

‘Anyway,’ Sivertsen said, ‘the client didn’t want us to meet and that was fine by me. I was to carry the items in a brown polythene bag and put it in the green litter bin at the centre of Frogner Park in front of the Fountain and then leave immediately. It was very important that I was on time. The agreed sum was paid up front into my account in Switzerland. He said that the simple fact that he had found me was unlikely to give me any ideas about tricking him and that was what he was counting on. He was right. Could I have a cigarette?’

Harry lit it for him.

‘The day after the first handover he rang me and ordered a Glock 23 and another blood diamond for the following week. Same place, same time, same procedure. It was a Sunday, but there were just as many people there.’

‘Same day and same time as the first killing, of Marius Veland.’

‘What?’

‘Nothing. Go on.’

‘This was repeated three times. Always with five days between. But the last time was a little different. I was told about two deliveries: one on the Saturday and one on the Sunday, yesterday that is. The client asked me to stay at my mother’s on Saturday night so that he could contact me should there be any changes to the plan. Fine by me. I was going to do that anyway. I was looking forward to seeing Mother. After all, I had good news for her.’

‘That she was going to be a grandmother.’

Sivertsen nodded.

‘And that I was going to get married.’

Harry stubbed out his cigarette.

‘So what you’re saying is that the diamond and the gun we found in your briefcase were for the handover on Sunday?’

‘Yes.’

‘Mm.’

‘And now?’ Sivertsen asked, after a prolonged silence.

Harry put his hands behind his head, leaned back against the sofa bed and let out a yawn.

‘As an old Iggy fan you must have heard Blah Blah Blah? Good album. Fascinating nonsense.’

‘Fascinating nonsense?’

Sven Sivertsen hit his elbow on the radiator creating a hollow and empty clang.

Harry got up. ‘I need to clear my head. There’s a 24-hour garage down in the street. Do you want me to bring you anything?’

Sivertsen closed his eyes.

‘Listen, Hole. We’re in the same boat. Sinking. OK? You’re not just a mean bastard, you’re stupid with it.’

Harry grinned and got up.

‘I’ll have a think about that.’

When Harry returned 20 minutes later, Sven was asleep with his arm attached to the top of the radiator, as if waving.

Harry put two hamburgers, chips and a large bottle of Coca-Cola on the table.

Sven rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

‘Did you have a think, Hole?’

‘Yup.’

‘And what did you think about?’

‘About the pictures your girlfriend took of you and Waaler in Prague.’

‘What’s that got to do with anything?’

Harry unlocked the handcuff.

‘The pictures have nothing to do with the case. I was thinking that she was pretending to be a tourist, doing what tourists do.’

‘And that is?’

‘What I said. Taking pictures.’

Sivertsen rubbed his wrists and scrutinised the food on the table.

‘What about a glass to drink from, Hole?’

Harry pointed to the bottle.

Sven unscrewed the top while squinting through semi-closed eyes at Harry.

‘So you’ll risk drinking from the same bottle as a serial killer?’

Harry replied with a mouth full of hamburger: ‘Same boat. Same bottle.’

Olaug Sivertsen was sitting in her living room staring vacantly ahead of her. She had not switched on the light in the hope that they would think she wasn’t at home and give up. They had been ringing the phone, ringing the doorbell, shouting from the garden and throwing pebbles at the kitchen window. ‘No comment,’ she had said, and pulled out the telephone jack plug. In the end they stood around outside, waiting with their long, black telephoto lenses. Once she had gone to draw the curtains in front of one of the windows and she had heard the insect noises from their cameras. Zzzz, Zzzz, click. Zzzz, Zzzz, click.