The Library of Shadows Page 20

  'A radio station with an imperceptibly small number of listeners,' Katherina pointed out. 'Most people can spend an entire lifetime reading and never run into a receiver.'

  'They do conceal themselves well,' said Jon with a smile. He nodded towards the farm. 'Yes, I know, Tom is a special case.' His smile vanished, and he gave her a searching glance. 'Very special. The question is, can we trust him?'

  'Do we have any choice?'

  'I've heard so many incredible things during the past week that this almost makes sense.' Jon once again fixed his eyes on the trees. 'At least it explains a lot of what has happened, to Luca in particular. I sure could have used that information a little earlier.'

  Katherina noticed that his hands were clenched and his knuckles were white.

  'The most unbelievable thing for me is that Luca never said anything,' she said. 'Not even to Iversen.'

  Jon raised his hand to signal her to be quiet. In among the trees they could hear branches snapping and the sound of footsteps in the underbrush. Jon took a few more steps along the track and Katherina followed. Now they could make out a figure heading straight for them, and they could hear panting from the exertion required to push aside the intertwined branches.

  Out of the shadows stepped Tom, red in the face and gasping for air. Under his arm he carried a shotgun adorned with twigs that had been torn off as he made his way through the woods.

  'Nothing,' he told them after catching his breath. 'If anyone was here, he's gone now.' He handed the gun to Jon so he could brush the twigs and leaves out of his hair and beard.

  Neither Katherina nor Jon had much desire to return to the dark farmhouse. Tom fell behind as they strolled up to the yard where the cars were parked. It was cold, but Katherina enjoyed the fresh air after the stuffy atmosphere inside the house.

  'Who do you think it was?' asked Jon after they reached the yard and Tom had caught up.

  'If it was the Shadow Organization, that's the closest I've ever been to them,' said Tom, reaching for his shotgun. Jon returned the gun to its owner, who carefully wiped off the dirt and dust from the barrel and butt.

  'Did anyone follow you here?' asked Tom without taking his eyes off what he was doing.

  Jon shook his head. 'I didn't notice anyone.'

  'Seems a little odd that they'd show up on the very same day that you turn up here,' said Tom, casting a sidelong glance at both of them. 'Who knew where you were going?'

  'Iversen and Pau,' replied Katherina.

  'And my computer guy,' added Jon.

  'Do you trust them?'

  Katherina and Jon both nodded.

  Tom scanned the buildings around them and gave a little sigh. 'I'd like you to leave now,' he said calmly.

  Katherina and Jon exchanged glances.

  'Shouldn't we stay for a little while, in case they come back?' asked Jon.

  'No thanks,' said Tom, taking a step back. 'I can take care of myself. I've been doing that for twenty years. Please just leave me alone.'

  As he stood there facing them with his shotgun under his arm, Katherina couldn't help feeling that his words were more than just a polite request. Even though his voice was controlled, Tom's body seemed tense, and his eyes kept shifting from one of them to the other.

  'Let's go,' Katherina said softly, before Jon could object. 'Thanks for everything, Tom. You've given us some important information today, and we'll do our best to make good use of it. Of course, we hope to see you again. If the Shadow Organization really does exist and it's launching some sort of offensive, we'll need everyone's help.'

  Tom nodded, though he had a slightly dubious look in his eyes. He watched them carefully as they got into the car. As they drove away, Katherina studied him in the mirror. Nшrreskov stood in the farmyard and watched them for a moment, then he turned round and quickly walked towards the main building.

  'A little paranoid, don't you think?' said Jon after they'd come out on the other side of the woods.

  'All those years alone in this place would make me a bit odd, too,' said Katherina, hurrying to add: 'Even odder, I mean.'

  They drove back to Copenhagen in silence. Katherina sensed that Jon would prefer to think through the new information on his own, and she spent the time looking for cars that might be following them. But they reached Copenhagen without seeing any Land Rovers or other suspicious vehicles, and their mood lifted significantly when they drove in among the tall buildings of the town centre.

  Jon turned off the engine in front of Libri di Luca, but he made no move to get out of the car.

  'I think I need some time to think about all this,' he said, giving her an apologetic look.

  'Of course,' said Katherina. 'Take your time. Let me know if there's anything I can do.' Through the shop windows she could see Pau walking around inside. 'What do we tell the others?' she asked, nodding towards Pau, who had taken up position in the window with his hands on his hips and his eyes fixed on them.

  'I've been thinking about the same thing,' said Jon. 'All my father's secrecy certainly didn't do him any good – on the contrary. So maybe we should just lay our cards on the table and tell them everything.' He shrugged. 'Maybe that would make someone give himself away, if there really is a mole in the Bibliophile Society.'

  Katherina nodded. 'This evening I'm going over to the hospital to visit Iversen,' she said. 'So I'll tell him what we found out. I think we owe it to him to be the first to know.'

  'Good. Then I'll tell Kortmann tomorrow.'

  Katherina said goodbye and got out of the car. Jon started up the Mercedes, but she noticed that he didn't drive off until she was safely inside.

  'Well?' said Pau even before she had shut the door. 'What happened down there?'

  Katherina glanced around the room to make sure no customers were present.

  'He's not the one behind it all,' she said. 'I can't tell you anything more right now.'

  'Arghh! Come on, Katherina,' exclaimed Pau, disappointed. 'What was he like? Tell me. I dropped everything, you know, to take your shift.'

  Katherina sighed. She told Pau about Tom Nшrreskov's solitary life and about the farm, but nothing about the Shadow Organization or his connection with Luca.

  'What a weirdo,' muttered Pau when she was done talking, but she refused to be pressured by Pau to say anything more. 'I wonder what he's really doing out there on a farm in the middle of nowhere.'

  Katherina escaped commenting because at that moment a customer came in.

  For the rest of the day she evaded Pau's questions and then sent him home before closing time so she could be alone. After locking up, she got on her bicycle and rode over to the State University Hospital. On the way she bought a pepperoni pizza, and the aroma made everyone in the hospital turn to look at her with a pleading look in their eyes.

  Iversen looked as if he'd fully recovered. The small man was sitting up in bed, and his face lit up with a big smile when she came into his room. He laughed out loud when he saw that she'd brought him a pizza.

  'I actually just ate,' he said. 'If you can call it eating, considering the food in this place.' He patted the bedclothes covering his stomach. 'But there's always room for a pepperoni pizza.'

  With great joy he bit into a slice of pizza as Katherina told him what she and Jon had been doing. She recounted everything Tom Nшrreskov had told them. Several times Iversen was so surprised by what she said he almost choked on his food. But he let her talk until she was done and he had finished his meal.

  'I've always known that Luca was harbouring a few little secrets, but this goes way beyond my wildest imagination.' Pensively he wiped his mouth. 'Is it really true that I can't be trusted?'

  'Of course you can,' said Katherina. 'You might say that it's your open heart that gives you away.'

  Iversen shook his head. 'If I'd only known, I would have paid closer attention, and maybe I could have helped.'

  Katherina took his hand. It was warm and dry.

  'You did help him, as a friend
and colleague. That was what he needed.'

  Iversen shrugged. 'We'll never know now,' he said with a sigh. 'I'm glad you told me. But do you think it was wise? What if I happen to give away the fact that we know about the Shadow Organization?'

  Katherina squeezed his hand. 'Everybody in the Society is going to know about it now,' she said solemnly. 'We're going to need the help of every single person if we want to fight back.'

  They sat together for a couple of minutes, holding hands and not saying a word.

  'How blind I've been,' Iversen then said bitterly. 'So many pieces of the puzzle are suddenly falling into place. Tom's banishment, Luca's reaction to Marianne's suicide, Jon being sent to a foster home. It's incredible how that little man could have kept such big secrets to himself.'

  'Luca probably found support with Tom,' Katherina suggested.

  'Tom,' said Iversen to himself, shaking his head. 'They sure pulled the wool over our eyes.'

  'But they paid a high price,' Katherina pointed out.

  'We have to take Tom back,' said Iversen firmly. 'After the way we treated him, we have to make it up to him somehow.' He slapped the bedclothes. 'And we need him. Who better to help us against the Shadow Organization? He's the expert.'

  'I don't think you should count on him wanting to leave his farm,' said Katherina. 'All Tom seems to be interested in is looking out for himself. Not that I blame him, after what he's been through.'

  'There must be something we can do.'

  'It would probably be best to leave him in peace.'

  'That'll be difficult if we're going to convince the others. Will Kortmann – or Clara, for that matter – accept this explanation without having Tom here to confirm your story?'

  'They'll have to. And they'll listen to Jon. He's the one who has been most affected by what happened. Tom chose his own fate, in a way. While Jon was cheated out of his. But who knows what would have happened if he had stayed with Luca?'

  'How did Jon take it?' Iversen asked with concern.

  'Considering the circumstances, he was surprisingly calm,' said Katherina. 'It's hard to say what he's feeling. In that sense, he resembles Luca – he's much too good at keeping secrets. I think he's bitter that he was never told the truth.'

  'I suppose we all are, to some extent. Whether it was justified or not, it's never fun to be kept in the dark. Maybe this will present an opportunity for reuniting the Bibliophile Society – which was always Luca's dream.'

  'There might still be traitors among us,' Katherina pointed out.

  'True enough. It could be more true than ever, in fact, but it's time to smoke them out, and for that we'll need everybody's help. Especially Jon's.'

  'And Kortmann?'

  'Kortmann and Clara are just going to have to bury the hatchet,' exclaimed Iversen furiously. 'Even if I have to force them to pick up the spade to do it.'

  Katherina noticed that the ECG, still hooked up to Iversen's body, was making some rapid upswings. She patted his hand.

  'Take it easy, Iversen, or you're going to bring the whole hospital running.'

  The next day was the first time Katherina opened the bookshop with the knowledge that the contents of the numerous shelves were not always used for a good purpose. Until then she had regarded the job of selling books as honourable – an occupation whose intention was to enlighten people and provide them with valuable experiences. Now she had the feeling that she might as well be working in a gun shop. There were individuals who would use the books she sold them to hurt others. She'd known for a long time, of course, that the risk existed, but this was the first day that she realized it was being done deliberately, and in an organized manner.

  Her new insight made her involuntarily study the customers who turned up, and she caught herself slinking after some of them in order not to let them out of her sight. She also used her powers to gather all the impressions that she could, and if she found any of the customers to be suspect, she made sure that they lost any desire to read and then quickly left the shop.

  In mid-afternoon, Jon rang. In her hypersensitive state, Katherina could hear at once that something was wrong.

  'How's Iversen?' he asked.

  'He's going to be discharged today or tomorrow,' said Katherina, and then went on to tell him about her visit to the hospital the previous evening. But judging from Jon's brief comments, she gathered his thoughts were elsewhere.

  'Is anything wrong?' she asked after a pause in which neither of them said a word.

  Jon gave a curt laugh on the other end of the line.

  'Yes and no,' he replied. 'I've come to… or rather I should say that I've been forced to make a decision.'

  'Yes?' Katherina held her breath. Her brain was swiftly summoning up one horror scenario after another. A decision about what? Libri di Luca? Was he going to sell the shop after all when faced with the prospect of landing in the middle of a battle with the Shadow Organization? Had he been threatened? Bought?

  Jon cleared his throat before he went on.

  'How does a person go about getting activated?'

  20

  After Tom Nшrreskov told them about the Shadow Organization and Luca's involvement, Jon had tried to reprogram his brain with the new information. After spending twenty years feeding it with speculations, allegations and anger, it felt as if he now had to switch the two halves of his brain around in order to find the true meaning. It was something he had to do alone, and after dropping Katherina off in front of Libri di Luca, he went straight home to his flat.

  He unlocked the door, took off his jacket and went into the living room. The cleaning woman had been there, judging by the scent and the way the lifestyle magazines were stacked neatly on the black coffee table. The afternoon sun was shining through the newly washed windows, making him squint as the light reflected off the white floorboards and white walls. He went over to the black leather sofa and sat down with a sigh. The only other piece of furniture in the living room was a low grey bookcase along the opposite wall. On top stood a wide-screen TV and surround-sound system, taking up most of that wall. The wall behind him and the spaces between the windows were dominated by small black banners printed with Chinese characters in silver and red.

  Jon leaned forward, picked up the stacks of magazines and set them on the floor. He then shoved them under the sofa without looking at them. The last thing he wanted to do right now was read.

  As Jon sat on the sofa with his eyes fixed on the blank TV screen, the sun sank behind the rooftops and softer light filled the room. He found himself immersed in a swirl of questions and theories that refused to let him go. He went back and forth endlessly between his own childhood experiences and Tom Nшrreskov's story. Hunger finally made him get up from the sofa and go out to the kitchen, where he threw together a meal from food he found in the cupboards. Then he dragged himself off to bed.

  After a sleepless night Jon decided to go to the office. Partly so he could think about other things, and partly to re-establish contact with his former life, which now seemed so distant that he needed to see whether it really existed or was just a dream.

  Jenny gave him a friendly nod when he arrived, but she didn't say anything, and Jon thought he glimpsed a mixture of relief and concern in her eyes. He found out the reason for her concern an hour later when he was summoned to Halbech's office.

  'Hello, Campelli,' said Frank Halbech in a businesslike tone after Jon had closed the door behind him and sat down on a chair in front of his boss. 'Nice of you to show up.'

  Jon, who was prepared to defend himself for taking time off, nodded. 'Yes, there were still some things to take care of following my father's death, and since the Remer case can't move forward as long as the main player won't give us the information we need, I thought it would be okay.'

  Halbech's expression didn't change, but he gave Jon a searching glance.

  'I've tried to get him to answer my queries,' Jon went on. 'But he's always either unavailable or he keeps mixing up other things
in the case that have nothing to do with the charges.'

  'That doesn't match up with what he told me,' said Halbech, leaning back in his office chair with his arms crossed. 'I spoke to him yesterday, since you weren't here. He wants you off the case.'

  Jon did his best to hide his surprise.

  'Remer claims that you seem uninterested, lazy, that you're not taking the case seriously. According to him, he's been available the whole time, and he was the one who had to contact you to get some sense of what was going on.'

  Jon shook his head. 'That's not at all what happened. Remer's the one who's been impossible to reach. He doesn't even answer his emails.'

  'Well, you've done something to piss him off, Campelli,' said Halbech, leaning forward. 'Remer puts a lot of money into this firm. So much that we can't afford to lose him because of the family matters of one of our co-workers. Of course it's regrettable that your father died, but you can't let that affect your work.'

  'And I don't think I have,' said Jon. 'I can show you the correspondence that-'

  'Right,' Halbech cut him off. 'I'm familiar with the correspondence. Remer read some of it to me, and I have to admit that I had expected you to use a more professional tone with our best client.'

  Jon looked at him wide-eyed.

  'Heread it to you?' he asked.

  'Yes,' Halbech confirmed, sounding annoyed.

  'On the phone?'

  'No,' replied Halbech, clearly annoyed now. 'I told you that he was here yesterday. He had copies of your correspondence, and he gave me a few examples, and I must say that…'

  Jon was no longer listening; a shocking realization forming in his mind. He pictured Remer sitting in the same chair where he now sat, reading aloud to Halbech, the co-owner of the law firm, who would have listened carefully and receptively to what the firm's notorious cash-cow had to say. Jon could guess how the tone of the text might seem, given his absences from work this last week, but what if Remer was a transmitter? Halbech wouldn't have had a chance.

  As he sat there explaining how Remer had reviewed the material for him, Halbech seemed genuinely convinced that he was spouting his own appraisal, as if he had in fact formed an opinion about the material and had independently drawn his own conclusions.