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the man in the picture. Mjønes’s jaw dropped. ‘You’re kidding me.’
    ‘No.’
    Mjønes looked at the photograph again, took out a sheet of paper which had been inserted behind it and skimmed the text. Then he shook his head and spoke the words he rarely allowed himself to utter: ‘That’s impossible.’
    ‘Nothing is impossible. And if you hadn’t screwed up the last time, there would be no need for this job.’
    Mjønes was about to protest, but he knew that Langbein was right. He was haunted by the incident. Mistakes are bad for his reputation. And yet he said, ‘It’s too risky.’
    The turn in conversation caught him completely by surprise.
    ‘In my office there is an envelope identical to the one you’re holding in your hands. With one sole exception. It also contains a picture of you.’
    ‘Of me?’
    ‘Yes, of you. If you don’t take the job, you become the job.’
    Mjønes was about to go behind the pillar to confront Langbein, but the sight of an arm and the mouth of a pistol stopped him in his tracks.
    ‘If I’m not back in fifteen minutes that envelope goes to the next man on the list. But I want you. I thought it would be an appropriate way for you to correct the mistake you made last time. Besides, you’ll be well paid.’
    Mjønes tried to shake off his initial shock.
    ‘How much?’
    ‘Two million kroner. Twenty-five per cent up front, cash. You’ll get the rest when all the loose ends have been tied up.’
    Mjønes said nothing for a long time. He was contemplating the level of difficulty, his options. He scratched the back of his head and rubbed his nostrils with two fingers. Then he said:
    ‘I’ll do it for three.’
    A few seconds of silence followed. Then Langbein said, ‘Done.’
    An intense rush surged through Mjønes’s body, but he didn’t have time to savour it. The next moment, a suitcase was pushed in his direction.
    ‘It must happen quickly and quietly. No traces. No questions. And no mistakes this time.’
    Mjønes nodded. Ideally, he would have liked plenty of time to plan, but he had always been good at thinking on his feet. In his head he had already come up with one possible scenario. But he had no time to ask Langbein any more questions because immediately afterwards a car door slammed shut. And when Mjønes walked around the pillar, Langbein had gone.
    Mjønes thought for several minutes about what he was being forced to do. Langbein could be bluffing, but even before the threats and the money were mentioned Mjønes had already made up his mind. It was an opportunity to redeem himself. To be generously paid for it as well was simply an added bonus. Besides, it was a long time since he had taken on a job of this magnitude and his fingers were already itching. All of his senses seemed heightened. He felt so much more alive.
    Five days go quickly , Mjønes thinks, and prepares himself for landing. So much has happened in that time. And yet so little. Perhaps that’s why he has been unable to sleep. Perhaps his body can’t relax until it’s all over. Nor will he have much time to rest when he gets home. The operation begins in a few hours. Everything must be in place.
    The aeroplane lands, and half an hour later Mjønes is on the train to Oslo. He thinks about the small box in his suitcase, about the plan he has come up with. It’s daring. It’s fiendish.
    But if it works, it’s pure genius.

Chapter 7
     
     
    Henning stares out of the window while the silence fills the space between the walls. The façade of the white building opposite him is streaked with brown trails of grime. His gaze continues down towards windowsills and intricate decorations. But he doesn’t look down. Not all the way down. He never can.
    Behind a window without any curtains a woman is pacing up and down. She is talking on the telephone, gesturing angrily. Henning thinks about his conversation with Erling Ophus. Ophus is right, of course. Simply believing that the fire was arson is a