The Library of Shadows

9

Katherina was about to leave when she happened to glance through the windows of Libri di Luca. There was Luca's son. He was standing at the counter, talking to Iversen, who was repeatedly shaking his head. Because of the darkness, they wouldn't be able to see her, and she could easily disappear without them noticing. Her hand rested on the door handle, and she couldn't decide whether to go in or turn round.

Acting as a receiver could be quite an intimate experience. In addition to the images conjured up by the text, she could pick up small glimpses of the reader's personality as well, fragments that revealed the person's character traits and frame of mind. Ever since the demonstration she'd felt uncomfortable about being in Jon's presence. She had a feeling she knew something she shouldn't, something even he didn't know. During their little show she was both surprised and startled by what she sensed in Jon, but she had no idea what to do about her discovery. Many people didn't like finding out exactly how much her abilities allowed her to comprehend.

She took a deep breath and pushed open the door. The two men turned to face her.

'Hi, Katherina,' Iversen said. Jon merely gave her a brief nod.

Katherina returned their greetings and closed the door behind her.

'Maybe you know him, Katherina,' exclaimed Iversen, pointing at a photocopy lying on the counter. 'His name is Remer. Does that ring a bell?'

She went over to the counter and studied the picture of a man in his forties, making his way up a stairway. Katherina shook her head.

'No, I've never seen him before. Who is he?'

'A client,' replied Jon. 'But he seems to know quite a lot about Libri di Luca, and about Luca.'

'He wants to buy the place,' added Iversen.

She looked in alarm at Iversen, who instantly raised his hands in a reassuring gesture.

'Don't worry, the shop hasn't been sold. Not yet, at any rate.'

'The prospective buyer is actually one of Remer's friends, not him,' explained Jon. 'Apparently he already has a whole chain of stores, as well as an Internet shop. Does that sound familiar?'

Iversen grumbled affirmatively. 'There are a couple of major players in the market, including a few who have previously made your father an offer to take over Libri di Luca, but he always turned them down. Under no circumstances did he want to leave the shop to that sort.'

'What's your position?' asked Jon.

'In my opinion Libri di Luca doesn't belong anywhere near a computer. How can you evaluate the quality of a book without holding it in your own hands?' He shook his head. 'Most of our customers come here for the sake of the atmosphere. We can't leave them in the lurch.'

Katherina agreed with Iversen on that point. Libri di Luca was a free zone, and she, if anyone, knew the pleasure of wandering among the walls of books, holding a fine-quality volume in her hands. Even though she had great difficulty reading the words herself, she loved to touch the paper they were printed on, and the binding that protected them. Since the contents were inaccessible to her, she had to make do with the medium that held the words, feeling neither bitterness nor sorrow, but rather a fascination with the materials and the craftsmanship.

'So, what do you think?' asked Jon. 'What's this man's interest in the shop?'

Iversen and Katherina exchanged looks. She could see that he was burning to tell Jon what he knew, yet at the same time he feared there were limits to what should be revealed to an outsider. In fact, Jon already knew far too much, more than enough to be a security risk for the Society.

'Well, I think his interest primarily stems from the shop's good reputation,' replied Iversen. 'Your father was much liked and respected in these circles.'

'Could it have anything to do with the collection downstairs?'

Iversen shook his head. 'Very few people know about that. I think it just has to do with someone wanting to exploit the void your father's death has left, in one way or another.'

Jon fixed his gaze first on Iversen, then Katherina. He took a deep breath. 'As I'm sure you know, I'm a lawyer,' he said slowly. 'An important part of my job is the ability to see through people who are lying or holding back information, and I think there's something you're not telling me.'

Iversen was about to object, but Jon raised his hand to cut him off.

'I realize that you've initiated me into a situation that is otherwise kept secret. If one chooses to believe you, that is – which I suppose I'll have to do. But I sense there's more. You keep pointing out how important it is for me to understand, but how can I do that if you won't tell me everything?'

Iversen stared at Jon, who was standing in front of him with both hands on the counter. Katherina saw resignation slip into Iversen's eyes, and he turned away to look out of the window. She surmised that behind his mild expression he was thinking like mad about how he could give Luca's son a satisfactory answer without revealing too much.

His expression suddenly changed from resignation to astonishment, and then his eyes widened in fear. Iversen opened his mouth but his shout was drowned out by the sound of breaking glass.

Katherina flinched and then turned towards the sound. The windowpane to the right of the door shattered and shards of glass flew into the shop like small projectiles.

'Get down!' shouted Jon, throwing himself to the floor. Iversen sat as if paralysed in the leather chair with his eyes fixed on the broken window.

Katherina ducked behind the counter, just in time to avoid the splinters from the other windowpane as it shattered too. She shut her eyes tight, waiting for the sound of glass raining down on her to stop.

Slowly she opened her eyes. There was glass everywhere, but even worse were the little columns of smoke issuing from some of the pieces of glass that had landed on the carpet.

'Fire!' she yelled and leaped to her feet.

Little tongues of fire had taken hold of the carpet in several places, and the display in the left-hand window was in flames. Jon was still lying on the floor, while Iversen was leaning over one of the armrests, away from the window. Quickly Katherina stepped behind the counter and opened the cabinet where the fire extinguisher was kept. In the meantime, Jon got to his feet and looked around in disbelief.

'Here,' she said, handing him the fire extinguisher. 'I'll get the other one.'

Jon grabbed the canister, which was no bigger than a thermos, and ran over to the display window, where the flames were biggest. In the meantime Katherina dashed through the shop and downstairs to the kitchen. There she tore the second fire extinguisher loose from its holder, a heavy model at least a metre high, and rushed back up to the shop with it.

'I'm empty,' shouted Jon when she came over to him. The extinguisher was on the floor and he was stamping out the flames on the carpet as he simultaneously tried to pull off his jacket. The fire in the display window was almost out, but Katherina could see an orange glow outside the window frame, so she tore open the door to attack the flames from outside.

As the door flew open she was met by a wave of intense heat. The whole outer surface of the door was on fire. The flames gladly accepted the invitation to come inside and began licking their way up the top of the door frame and towards the underside of the balcony.

Katherina aimed the fire extinguisher at the door and pressed the handle down as far as it would go. A hoarse hiss drowned out the sound of the crackling fire, and white foam spewed out over the wooden door. With an angry sizzle the flames gave way to the foam and the fire on the door was put out before it could gain a foothold inside. The stench of smoke and burnt paint made Katherina cover her mouth and nose with her left arm as she stepped through the smouldering doorway, dragging the fire extinguisher behind her.

Outside the flames were still licking up the wooden facade beneath the windows, and Katherina immediately began emptying the contents of the extinguisher over the blazing areas. The heat made it impossible to stand close for very long, so several times she had to stop and retreat before she could once again attack the flames. Her arms were shaking from the exertion of holding the heavy canister and her fingers were cramping from their convulsive grip on the handle. At the same time the smoke brought tears to her eyes so that everything appeared distorted and blurry. But she continued her assault on the burning patches, and soon she had put out the right side of the facade.

The left was not blazing as strongly, but by the time she'd put out half of the flames, the foam in the container was gone. Desperately she pumped the handle a few times, then she flung the empty extinguisher on the pavement, where it landed with a metallic clunk.

Angry and in despair, she tore off her jacket and started beating it on the remaining flames. With every blow the fire seemed to taunt her by yielding and then flaring up even more violently than before. She whipped her jacket against the shopfront, but each time she put out one flame, two more tongues of fire would appear in its place.

She felt a hand on her shoulder.

'Step back,' said a voice, and the hand pulled her away from the flames. A figure moved in front of her, and she heard the welcome sound of yet another fire extinguisher.

Katherina dropped her jacket on the ground and rubbed her eyes. Behind her a crowd of people had appeared, standing there and watching the scene as if it were a bonfire. The man in front of her gasped from the heat as he fought the last of the flames, but slowly they gave way, and soon the whole facade was a smouldering shell of charred wood. Behind the smoke she saw Jon's silhouette as he beat the floor with his jacket, cursing loudly. She ran inside the shop just as he stamped out the last of the flames. His white shirt had come untucked and was covered with big black patches of soot and sweat.

'Are you okay?' he asked, without taking his eyes off the carpet as he looked for more sparks.

'I'm okay,' she said, looking around for Iversen.

She found him behind the counter, lying on the floor in a foetal position, shivering with cold. Big burns covered his back, and in several places blood had soaked through his shirt and heavy sweater. Katherina knelt down next to him and placed her hand on his arm. Iversen gave a start at her touch, and then moaned loudly.

'It's me. Katherina,' she said soothingly.

Iversen turned his head towards her. Little pieces of glass were buried in one side of his face and blood covered the rest. Fortunately his glasses were still intact and had protected his eyes, which now gave her a pleading look.

'I think I need a doctor,' he said, trying to smile.

As if on cue, they heard sirens outside.

'An ambulance is on its way,' said Jon, who was suddenly leaning over them. 'I'll show the medics in,' he added and left the shop.

Iversen closed his eyes. 'The books,' he said. 'Are they…'

'They weren't damaged,' said Katherina. 'The ones in the display window burned up, but the rest are okay.'

The old man smiled, even though the effort seemed to cause him pain. 'You have to take him to Kortmann,' he whispered.

'Me?' She stared at him intently. Maybe he'd hurt his head. 'Are you sure they'd let me in?'

'They'll have to,' replied Iversen, opening his eyes for a moment. 'Take Pau with you – they can't turn him away.'

'Shouldn't we wait until you're up and about again?' asked Katherina.

'No,' said Iversen firmly. 'It can't happen soon enough. Just look at this mess.'

'All right.'

The medics arrived, accompanied by Jon, and one of them put a hand on Katherina's shoulder to pull her away so they could get to Iversen. After giving him a superficial examination, they cautiously lifted the elderly man onto a stretcher and carried him out to the ambulance. Katherina and Jon followed.

'I'll go with him to the hospital,' Katherina told Jon. 'Will you wait here?'

He nodded. 'Of course.'

Katherina got into the ambulance, the doors were slammed shut, and the vehicle took off. Iversen opened his eyes in time to see the smouldering shopfront receding behind them.

Two hours later Katherina was back in front of Libri di Luca. The windows were covered with sheets of plywood, and the facade and pavement were wet from being hosed down by the fire department.

At the hospital Iversen had been examined immediately; aside from a number of burns and deep cuts from the glass, his injuries weren't serious. Nevertheless he had been admitted for observation, and considering the state of shock he was in, that was undoubtedly for the best. During the long waiting period, she hadn't been able to get a single coherent sentence out of him.

Katherina was in a hurry to leave the hospital; it brought back too many memories of the accident she had been in as a child. She took a taxi from the hospital back to the sorry-looking bookshop, which resembled a building marked for demolition that had been closed up and gutted.

The smell of smoke was still strong outside, and the wall felt warm to her touch. When she opened the front door, the smell was even worse. The fire department had removed a four-metre stretch of carpet from the entrance, exposing the dark floorboards underneath. The display tables had been shoved together, and the books had been removed from them and hastily stacked in the aisles between the shelves.

Jon was standing at the counter, pouring the contents of a bottle into a bucket. His face was streaked with soot, and he had put on his jacket, even though it was covered with little black holes where the flames had licked at the fabric. He looked like a cartoon character who had been in a shootout. She was glad he had been in the shop during the attack, and even more grateful that he was here now.

'Vinegar,' he explained, nodding towards the bucket. 'For the smell.' He emptied the bottle and set the bucket on the floor in the middle of the shop. The vinegar stung Katherina's nostrils. She moved away from the bucket and dropped into the armchair behind the counter.

'How is he?' asked Jon with concern.

'He's in shock,' said Katherina. 'But otherwise it's not so bad. It could have been much worse. But they're going to keep him in for a couple of days. At least.'

Jon shook his head.

'Who would do such a thing?' he asked rhetorically. 'The police suggested it might be some sort of racist attack against the shop, but that seems a bit far-fetched.'

'The police?' exclaimed Katherina in alarm.

'Yes, they arrived at the same time as the fire department.'

Jon told her how the firemen had hosed down the hot spots, boarded up the windows and removed the carpet. In the meantime he had been questioned by the police. They hadn't seemed especially surprised; instead, they asked their questions in a routine manner, but at no time were they interested in what might have been going on in the shop, and he assured Katherina that he wouldn't have told them anything if they had asked. Outside the police had found remnants of the Molotov cocktails that had been used. It was apparently this evidence that had made them conclude it was a small group behind the attack, probably motivated by racism.

'Of course the police would like to talk to you too, but I didn't know your address or phone number, so you'll have to contact them yourself,' he said.

Katherina nodded slowly as she stared straight ahead.

'So what do you think?' asked Jon. 'Who was it?'

She opened her mouth to answer but was interrupted by a loud pounding on the boards covering the window of the door. They both turned towards the sound. The door handle was pressed down, and the door swung open.

Pau came in with a wild look in his eyes. 'What the hell happened here?' he burst out.

It took some persuading before he calmed down enough for Jon and Katherina to tell him. As they talked Pau paced back and forth on the exposed floorboards, as if he wanted to make up for the years of wear and tear that the floor had escaped by being underneath the carpet. His face grew more and more red with fury as their report progressed, but he didn't interrupt them, and he probably wouldn't have been able to speak anyway because his teeth were pressed together so hard.

'Those shitheads,' he exclaimed, his voice shaking, when they finished. His eyes full of hate, he shifted his gaze to Katherina and then to Jon.

'Who?' asked Jon at once.

The question seemed to take Pau by surprise. His eyes wavered, and he looked back at Katherina.

'Yes, who exactly do you mean?' asked Katherina.

'Er, well, that's obvious,' he said, in annoyance. 'You of all people should know.'

Silence descended on the shop. Katherina kept her eyes stubbornly fixed on Pau's face. She knew very well what he was referring to, but she also knew that he was mistaken. In any case, this was not the proper time or place to start a quarrel. Considering the state he was in, it would do no good to argue with him.

'Don't you think it's about time you gave me an explanation?'

Katherina and Pau broke off their staring contest and shifted their attention to Jon. He was leaning on the counter, pressing the palms of his hands into the surface.

'Frankly, I think I've been extremely patient. I've had Molotov cocktails thrown at me, people have lied to me and mysterious things have been going on in this shop, to say the least – this shop that actually belongs to me. So don't you think it's reasonable that I should know what's going on?'

Pau was the one who broke the silence. 'Will you, or should I?' he asked, turning to Katherina.

'Kortmann,' she replied tersely. 'Iversen said we should take him to see Kortmann.'

'We? Do you think he'll let you in?'

Katherina shrugged. 'We'll see.'

'I believe I met this man at the funeral.' said Jon.

'An older man in a wheelchair?' asked Katherina.

Jon nodded.

'Kortmann is the head of the Bibliophile Society,' she went on. 'He has all the answers, and he'll decide what should be done.'

Katherina had a hard time hiding the sarcasm in her last remark, but Pau didn't seem to notice and clapped his hands in satisfaction.

'When are we going to see him?'

'Now,' replied Katherina.