On his way back to the newspaper, Henning reviews his conversation with Pia Nokleby. She has a point. If Pulli is adamant that he arrived at the factory at the agreed time, he has a problem explaining the nineteen minutes. Henning wonders if he can trust him at all.
He gets himself a cup of coffee, sits down by his desk and starts thinking about Vidar Fjell. Who was he really?
Henning finds out that Vidar Fjell’s parents, Linda and Erik, live in Lillestrom. Erik is a professor of Nordic Studies and works at the University of Oslo, but he can find no information about Linda other than a home telephone number she shares with her husband. A rusty female voice answers after a few rings.
‘Hello, it’s Henning Juul from the internet newspaper 123news. Can I have a few of minutes of your time?’
‘That depends,’ she replies, with that buttoned-up, brusque voice that many people switch to the moment they realise they are speaking to a journalist.
‘It’s about your son.’
There is silence.
‘Why are you writing about Vidar? Now?’
‘I don’t know yet. I’m working on a story where Vidar’s name keeps cropping up. I-’
‘What kind of story?’
‘Tore Pulli’s appeal.’
Linda Fjell snorts. ‘Vidar is dead. That’s bad enough without you journalists bringing it up all the time.’
‘I-’
‘I don’t want to talk about Vidar,’ she interrupts him sharply.
‘What about your husband then? Is he at home?’
‘No,’ she replies, swiftly.
Henning can hear that she is about to hang up.
‘I’m sorry to call you about this,’ he says, quickly. ‘I don’t know you, and I don’t know your husband. But I know how you feel. I’ve lost a child myself.’
There is silence. Henning closes his eyes, tries to will away the images that surface whenever he mentions Jonas. Scenes he never saw but which he can’t stop imagining.
‘I know what it’s like,’ he says, gently. ‘And nothing helps.’
He can hear her breathing, heavy and tortured.
‘So how do you manage?’ Linda Fjell asks him after a pause.
Henning is incapable of replying straight away. ‘Who says I’m managing?’ he whispers, finally. When he continues his voice is soft and slow. ‘But I try to make my boy as alive as I can. For me that means thinking about him as often as I can bear it. I talk about him when I get the chance. And I talk to him sometimes — even if it’s just inside my head. If I don’t do that then I might as well be dead too. I still draw breath just to keep the memory of him alive. It deserves that. And he deserves it.’
Neither of them says anything for a while. Henning feels in need of a shower. ‘Is it okay if I ask you some questions about Vidar?’
Linda Fjell heaves a sigh. ‘Okay,’ she sniffs.
‘Good. Thank you so much.’
‘I don’t really know what you want to know, but-’
‘Perhaps you could begin by telling me something about your son.’
‘Ah.’
‘Perhaps we could start with the place where he worked,’ Henning says to help her get started. ‘His gym.’
‘Fighting Fit,’ she says, proudly. ‘It was his pride and joy. He did everything himself, almost. He was never tempted to sell out to a chain or anything like that. No, not Vidar. He always wanted to do things his way, ever since he was little. Did you know that his gym was a place where young people who had been in trouble could work out?’
‘Yes, I knew that.’
‘Vidar practically dragged them in off the street. At his funeral they were queuing all the way out to the cemetery. There wasn’t room enough in the church. Vidar had so many friends.’
Henning can hear how she grows with every word. ‘Did he have a lot of close friends too?’
‘Yes, he did.’
Linda Fjell reels off the names Henning was expecting to hear: Robert van Derksen, Geir Gronningen, Petter Holte, Kent Harry Hansen. But not Tore Pulli. Henning asks if Tore was one of Vidar’s close friends.
‘No.’
‘Pardon me for asking,’ he says after a short pause. ‘But how do you know that?’
‘Because real friends are there for each other.’
‘And Tore wasn’t?’
‘No.’
‘In what way was he not there for Vidar? After all, he was convicted of avenging your son’s killing.’
Linda Fjell snorts. ‘Is that how you prove what a good friend you are? By killing people? I’m talking about something completely different. Some years ago Vidar had problems at the gym, money trouble. The rent shot up, and the grant the council gave him through the Inner City Project wasn’t enough to cover it. Tore had so much money he didn’t know what to do with it. Vidar went to see Tore to ask for his help. And you know what he said? He said no, that’s what he said.’
‘Are we talking about a lot of money?’
‘I don’t know. I never knew the actual sum involved, but it was definitely not more than Tore could have managed. And do you know what Tore did next? He bought himself a brand-new motorbike. He already had three or four or whatever! Dear God.’
Henning notes down the word ‘mean’ on the pad in front of him.
‘How did Vidar take it?’
‘How do you think? He was upset, obviously.’
‘Hm.’
An uncomfortable silence ensues. A few minutes later, when Henning ends the call, he is left with the feeling that Pulli might not have been all that popular — even before Vidar Fjell was killed.