would.
Then his host grinned and threw out his arms.
‘Well I never, an art director!’
HP smiled and nodded.
‘And there I was thinking that you were a player who’d fucked up and was desperately trying to work out the identity of the juggernaut that ran over you, and why.’
Erman burst out into a roar of laughter and HP had to cough several times to get the scalding coffee out of his windpipe.
Another boiling hot day! A day in the office, which meant a bit of paperwork, reading up on current threat analysis and the preliminary programme for the next round of the EU Presidency. Plenty of time to clear stuff from her desk.
She got a glass of water from the kitchen, took a deep breath, and tried to shift the tension in her neck and jaw.
Even this early in the day, her shirt was already wet under the arms. The building may have been air-conditioned, but every reorganization of the police force seemed to require new walls and office partitions, so practically all the cool air had ended up in a few rooms at the far end of the corridor. To get at least an illusion of coolness, Rebecca had been forced to buy the fan that was now stirring up the hot air in the office she shared with three other bodyguards. She settled down behind her desk and shut her eyes, letting the blast of air cross her face a couple of times as she tried to gather her thoughts.
It had taken a while to dig out the phone number. Nilla wasn’t in the phone book and she wasn’t listed online either.
Ex-directory, of course, just like most police employees, whether or not it was actually necessary. But there were ways round that, of course. A call to a girl she knew in personnel was all it took. A white lie about her and Nilla sharing a lift to a course, and suddenly she had her work rota, home number and mobile. Who said female networks didn’t work?
But now she was hesitating again.
How should she start, and what did she really expect to get out of the conversation? Get it all out in the open, once and for all, she repeated to herself. Turn the page at last and put a stop to all those damn notes …
Not exactly a straightforward aim, and maybe not even possible. Just a few days ago she wouldn’t be bothering with any of this. After all, she’d gone more than a decade without getting bogged down in the past. But after what happened out at Lindhagensplan everything had changed.
Seeing Kruse there in hospital with tubes and wires everywhere, admittedly a bit brighter now than to begin with, had made her think along different lines. It could easily have been her lying there. Should have been, maybe, just like the note implied; it had been her mistake.
So that’s why she was thinking of trying to make contact, properly this time. Clear the air, say what she should have said all that time ago, and get some sort of closure. First with his family, then, after that, with Henke somehow. Get him to forgive her for what she’d done, or, more truthfully, hadn’t done … If anything like that was actually possible.
Their conversation the other day hadn’t exactly given her much hope. She’d tried ringing him but the new number he’d given her had been cut off. Typical Henke.
But what was she actually going to say?
‘The truth!’ a voice inside her head whispered.
In spite of the heat she shivered.
‘So, tell me what they got you to do, and don’t worry about rule number one. In the forest no-one can hear you squeal!’
Erman let out another rumbling belly-laugh as he refilled their cups.
‘To start with, what number did you have?’
HP was a bit taken aback, to put it mildly. The shaggy geek had tricked him, playing the village idiot even though he knew exactly how the land lay. Fucking brilliant, what a laugh, yippikayee mothafucker!
But what the hell, he just had to bite the rotten apple and make the best of it.
‘One hundred and twenty-eight,’ he muttered, and for the third time in just a few days he told his whole story, right from the start, with a few choice bits missing.
When he was finished Erman nodded thoughtfully.
‘Well, I can certainly understand why you’re here. You’ve got plenty of reasons to be furious, I can see that. But now I’m going to tell you why you should think seriously before getting into round two with the Game Master, if that’s what you’ve got in mind?’
Suddenly he got up from his chair and walked around the little house, bending down to look out of the low windows. Evidently satisfied, he returned to the kitchen table.
‘Now listen carefully, lad, because you don’t really seem to be taking this seriously … unless you’re just a bit crazy. You don’t mess with the Game, if you haven’t already realized that. I used to work for them, so I know more about it than most people, but we can talk about that later. To start with, who do you think has been leaving comments on your page?’
‘Erm, well, people who’ve watched the clips?’
HP had never given it much thought. The answer was fairly obvious, after all.
‘Well, it has to be people who like watching cool film clips and don’t mind paying for it. Otherwise the Game wouldn’t work, would it?’ he added, slightly uncertainly.
Erman shook his head.
‘So you really think there are loads of people out there with nothing better to do than watch a load of pranks, and who’ve got fed up of doing it for free on YouTube and MTV?’
‘Er … yeah?’ HP managed to say, mostly in the absence of anything more sensible.
‘What about the assignments, then? All that stuff you and all the other players do, they just come about by accident, because it’s all a bit of fun, I suppose?’ Erman looked at him inquiringly.
‘Erm, well, I haven’t really thought about that,’ HP said, feeling his dunce’s hat growing.
Erman sighed.
‘No, I’m afraid you’re not one of life’s great thinkers, HP. I suppose you’re the sort who follows his impulses and does whatever suits him, am I right or am I right?’
‘Huh, what, what do you mean?’ HP was pretty sure he’d just been insulted, and quickly adopted his most aggrieved expression.
‘What I mean is that you’re the sort who takes care of himself and doesn’t give a shit about anyone else.’
‘So what’s so wrong with looking out for number one?’ HP folded his arms over his chest and leaned back.
Erman sighed again.
‘Nothing at all, in fact it’s pretty much an advantage when it comes to the Game. We don’t know each other, but let me try a few wild guesses.’
He counted on his fingers.
‘You
