The Leopard Read Online Free Page A

calmly at the white man and repeated: ‘Is there, jau-ye ?’
    She felt the white man’s fingers tense and relax around her wrist, noticed the black man shift weight from foot to foot.
    ‘ Ng-goy ,’ said the man in the doorway.
    She felt their hands hesitantly let go.
    ‘Come on,’ he said, lightly taking her arm.
    She felt the heat in her flushed cheeks as they walked out. Heat produced by tension and shame. Shame at how relieved she was, how tardily her brain had functioned in the situation, how willing she had been to let him sort out two harmless drug dealers who only wanted to ruffle her a little.
    He accompanied her up two floors and in through the swing door where he positioned her in front of a lift, pressed the arrow for down, stood beside her and focused his gaze on the luminous figure 11 above the lift door. ‘Guest workers,’ he said. ‘They’re alone and bored.’
    ‘I know,’ she said defiantly.
    ‘Press G for ground floor, turn right and go straight ahead until you’re in Nathan Road.’
    ‘Please listen to me. You are the only person in Crime Squad with the appropriate expertise to catch serial killers. After all, it was you who caught the Snowman.’
    ‘True,’ he said. She registered a movement in his eyes, and he ran a finger along his jaw under his right ear. ‘And then I resigned.’
    ‘Resigned? Went on leave, you mean.’
    ‘Resigned. As in finished .’
    It was only now that she noticed the unnatural protrusion of his right jawbone.
    ‘Gunnar Hagen says that when you left Oslo he agreed to give you leave until further notice.’
    The man smiled, and Kaja saw how it changed his face completely. ‘That’s because Hagen can’t get it into his head . . .’ He paused, and the smile vanished. His eyes were directed towards the light above the lift that now read ‘5’. ‘Nonetheless, I don’t work for the police any longer.’
    ‘We need you . . .’ She inhaled. Knew that she was skating on thin ice, but that she had to act before she lost sight of him again. ‘And you need us.’
    His eyes shifted back to her. ‘What on earth makes you think that?’
    ‘You owe the Triad money. You buy dope off the street in a baby’s bottle. You live . . .’ She grimaced. ‘… here. And you don’t have a passport.’
    ‘I’m enjoying myself here. What do I need a passport for?’
    The lift pinged, the door creaked open, and hot, stinking air rose off the bodies inside.
    ‘I’m not going!’ Kaja said, louder than she had anticipated, and noticed the faces looking at her with a mixture of impatience and obvious curiosity.
    ‘Yes, you are,’ he said, placing a hand in the middle of her back and pushing her gently but firmly inside. She was immediately surrounded by human bodies closing in on her and making it impossible for her to move or even turn. She twisted her head in time to see the doors gliding to.
    ‘Harry!’ she shouted.
    But he had already gone.

4
    Sex Pistols
    T HE OLD HOSTEL OWNER PLACED A THOUGHTFUL FINGER ON his forehead under the turban and looked at her long and hard. Then he picked up the telephone and dialled a number. He said a few words in Arabic and rang off. ‘Wait,’ he said. ‘Maybe, maybe not.’
    Kaja smiled and nodded.
    They sat observing each other from either side of the narrow table that served as a reception desk.
    Then the phone rang. He picked it up, listened and put it down without a word.
    ‘One hundred and fifty thousand dollars,’ he said.
    ‘One hundred and fifty?’ she repeated in utter disbelief.
    ‘Hong Kong dollars, lady.’
    Kaja did some mental arithmetic. That would be about one hundred and thirty thousand Norwegian kroner. Roughly double what she had been authorised to pay.
    It was past midnight, and almost forty hours since she had slept, when she found him. She had trawled H-Block for three hours. Had sketched out a map of the interior as she moved through hostels, cafes, snack bars, massage clubs and prayer rooms until