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As though by tacit agreement they dropped the topic. Harry asked about Gert. Katrine talked about him, but Harry still had the sense she was holding something back. Eventually there was a lull in the conversation. It was ten o’clock when Katrine accompanied him down the steps to the back garden to throw two bags into the bin. When he opened the gate and stepped out onto the street she followed, giving him a long hug. He felt her warmth. Like he had that night. But knew that would be the one and only time. There had once been an attraction, physical chemistry neither of them had been in denial about, but which they both knew would be a foolish reason to destroy what they had with their respective partners. But now, even though those relationships were destroyed, so was this destroyed. And there was no way back to that sweet, forbidden excitement.

Katrine flinched, letting go of Harry. He saw her stare down the street.

‘Something wrong?’

‘Oh, nah.’

She folded her arms, looked like she shuddered, even though it was a mild evening.

‘Listen, Harry.’

‘Yeah?’

‘If you want...’ She paused, drew a breath. ‘You can babysit Gert one day.’

Harry looked at her. Nodded slowly. ‘Goodnight.’

‘Goodnight,’ she said, and closed the gate hastily behind her.

Harry took the long way home. Through Bislett and Sofies gate, where he had once lived. Past Schrøder’s, the brown cafe which at one time had been his place of refuge. Up to the top of St Hanshaugen, where he could see out over the city and the Oslo Fjord. Nothing had changed. Everything had changed. There was no way back. And there was no way that didn’t lead back.

He thought about the conversation he’d had with Røed and Krohn. Where he had told them not to inform the media about the deal they had signed before he had spoken to Katrine Bratt. Explained to them that the chances of a good climate of cooperation would be increased if Bratt was under the impression she had the power of veto on whether Harry would work for Røed. Harry had described how he envisioned the conversation with Katrine was likely to go, how she would be the one to find the good arguments for him taking the case prior to agreeing. They had nodded, and he had signed. Harry heard a church bell in the distance chime the time. Tasted the lie in his mouth. He knew already it would not be the last.

Prim checked the time. Soon midnight. He brushed his teeth while tapping one foot along to the beat of ‘Oh! You Pretty Things’ and looking at the two photos he had taped to the mirror.

One was of the Woman, beautiful, even though she was out of focus, but it was still only a pale imitation. Because her beauty was not such that a frozen moment could capture it. There was something she radiated, in the very movement of her body, in the sum of how one facial expression, word or laugh followed the next. A picture was like extracting one single note from a work by Bach or Bowie, it made no sense. Nevertheless it was better than nothing. But loving a woman, no matter how much, did not mean that you owned her. He had therefore made a promise to himself to stop watching her, stop surveying her private life as though she were his property. He had to learn to trust her, without trust there would be too much pain.

The other photo was of the woman he would fuck before the weekend. Or to be more precise, the woman who would get to fuck him. After that he would kill her. Not because he wanted to, but because he must.

He rinsed his mouth out and sang along with Bowie, about how all the nightmares came today and it looks as though they’re here to stay.

Then he went into the living room and opened the fridge. He saw the bag with the thiabendazole. He knew he had taken too little today, but that if he took too much in one go, he would get stomach pains and throw up, possibly on account of it inhibiting the citric acid cycle. The trick was to take small doses at regular intervals. He decided not to take any now, offered himself the excuse that he had already brushed his teeth. Instead he took out the open tin with ‘Bloodworms’ written on it and went over to the aquarium. Sprinkled half a teaspoon of the contents — mosquito larvae for the most part — into it, where it lay on the surface of the water like dandruff before beginning to sink.