Читаем Killing Moon полностью

‘No one’s going to get raped, certainly not a daddy nearly two metres tall,’ Alexandra said. ‘But there’ll probably be twinks there who’ll hit on you.’

‘Twinks?’

‘Cute, skinny boys who want to be towered over. But like I said, watch out for bears, and take care in the dark rooms.’

‘Another round?’ Øystein said. He counted three fingers being held up.

‘I’ll help you carry them,’ Harry said.

They squeezed their way to the bar and were standing in the queue when the guitar riff of David Bowie’s ‘Heroes’ sounded to rousing cheers all round.

‘Mick Ronson is God,’ Øystein said.

‘Yeah, but that there is Robert Fripp,’ Harry said.

‘Correct, Harry,’ a voice behind them said. They turned. The man had a flat cap, several days of stubble and warm, slightly sad eyes. ‘Everyone thinks Fripp used an EBow but it’s just feedback from the studio monitors.’ He held out his hand. ‘Arne, Katrine’s boyfriend.’ He had a nice smile. Like an old friend, Harry thought. Except that this guy had to be at least ten years younger than them.

‘Aha,’ Harry said, and shook his hand.

‘Big fan,’ Arne said.

‘Us too,’ Øystein said as he tried in vain to attract the attention of the busy bartenders.

‘I didn’t mean of Bowie, but of you.’

‘Of me?’ Harry said.

‘Of him?’ Øystein said.

Arne laughed. ‘Don’t look so shocked. I was thinking of the incredible things you’ve done for the city as a policeman.’

‘Mm. Is it Katrine who’s been telling you tales?’

‘No, no, listen, I knew about Harry Hole long before I met her. I must have been in my late teens when I was reading about you in the papers. You know, I even applied to Police College because of you.’ Arne’s laughter was happy, breezy.

‘Mm. But you didn’t get in?’

‘I was called in to take the entrance exams. But in the meantime I’d been accepted on a course at university that I thought I could use to become an investigator later.’

‘I see. Is Katrine with you?’

‘Is she here?’

‘I don’t know, she sent me a text saying she might pop in, but it’s so crowded in here and she might have bumped into some other people she knows. How did you find her, by the way?’

‘Has she said it was me who found her?’

‘Wasn’t it?’

‘Is that a guess?’

‘Educated guess.’

Arne looked at Harry in mock seriousness for a moment. Then his face broke into a boyish smile. ‘You’re right, of course. The first time I saw her was on TV, but don’t tell her, please. And not long after that she happened to come by where I work. So, I approached her, said I’d seen her on TV, and that she seemed like a hell of a woman.’

‘So, kind of like you’re doing now.’

More breezy laughter. ‘I can see how you’d think I was a fanboy, Harry.’

‘Aren’t you?’

Arne seemed to think it over. ‘Yeah, you’re right again, I suppose I am. Although you and Katrine aren’t my biggest idols.’

‘Comforting to hear. Who is your biggest idol then?’

‘You wouldn’t be interested, I’m afraid.’

‘Maybe not but try me.’

‘All right. Salmonella typhimurium.’ Arne pronounced it slowly and reverently with clear diction.

‘Mm. Salmonella as in bacteria?’

‘Exactly.’

‘And why is that?’

‘Because typhimurium is outstanding. It can survive anything and anywhere, even out in space.’

‘And why are you interested in it?’

‘It’s part of my job.’

‘Which is?’

‘I search for particles.’

‘The kind within us or out there?’

‘It’s the same, Harry. The stuff life is made of. And death.’

‘OK?’

‘If I were to gather up all the microbes, bacteria and parasites within you, guess how much it would weigh?’

‘Mm.’

‘Two kilos.’ Øystein handed two half-litres to Harry. ‘Read it in Science Illustrated. Scary stuff.’

‘Yeah, but it’d be even scarier if they weren’t present,’ Arne said. ‘Then we wouldn’t be alive.’

‘Mm. And they survive in space?’

‘Some microbes don’t even need to be in proximity to a star or have access to oxygen. Quite the opposite, in fact. They’ve carried out research on it aboard the space stations and discovered that typhimurium is even more dangerous and more effective in those surroundings than on the earth’s surface.’

‘Seeing as you sound like you know a lot about that kind of stuff...’ Øystein sucked the froth off one of the half-litres he was holding. ‘Is it true that thunder can only occur when it rains?’

Arne looked slightly disorientated. ‘Eh... no.’

‘Exactly,’ Øystein said. ‘Listen.’

They listened. Fleetwood Mac’s ‘Dreams’ had reached its chorus, where Stevie Nicks sings about thunder only happening when it rains.

The three of them laughed.

‘Lindsey Buckingham’s fault,’ Øystein said.

‘No,’ Harry said. ‘It was actually Stevie Nicks who wrote that song.’

‘Well, it’s the best two-chord song ever at any rate,’ Arne said.

‘No, Nirvana have that,’ Øystein said quickly. ‘“Something in the Way”.’

They looked at Harry. He shrugged. ‘Jane’s Addiction. “Jane Says”.’

‘You’re improving,’ Øystein said, smacking his lips. ‘And the worst two-chord song of all time?’

They looked at Arne. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘“Born in the U.S.A.” might not be the worst, but it’s definitely the most overrated.’