The Quarry

70

There was a cold wind blowing when Per reached the top of the quarry.

‘I could see he wasn’t going to brake,’ said Gerlof. ‘He was going to run over you, so I threw my stick at the car.’

Per wiped the blood from his split eyebrow and looked at Gerlof in the darkness. They were standing motionless just a metre apart on the edge of the quarry.

‘Did you hit it?’ he asked.

‘I hit the windscreen, I think, so it might have distracted him... then the car crashed into the steps.’

Per nodded without speaking, and turned to look down into the quarry. The rear lights and one headlight were still glowing. A chaotic pile of gravel and blocks of stone covered the front of the car and hid the driver’s seat from view.

The flickering glow of flames could be seen from the shore to the south, and the wind carried the faint sound of singing and music and happy laughter.

When the steps had collapsed, Per had tried to lift the blocks of stone off the car, but he didn’t have the strength. His ribs hurt too much. He had made his way slowly up the gravel track leading out of the quarry, then all the way around the edge to where Gerlof stood waiting.

He looked at Per and asked quietly, ‘How are you feeling?’

Per tried to work it out, then held up his burnt fingers. ‘OK, except for my hand. I think I’ve probably broken a couple of ribs too, and I’ve got some cuts and bruises. And I might have concussion... Apart from that, I’m fine.’

‘It could have been worse.’

‘Yes.’ Per looked down at the car; the lights seemed fainter now. ‘He had some kind of home-made fire bomb, just like when he burnt down the studio. He was going to set fire to me at first... then he tried to mow me down with the car.’

‘That was Hans Bremer,’ said Gerlof.

‘No, it wasn’t Bremer... that was the man who murdered Bremer. His name is Fall, Thomas Fall. He just borrowed Bremer’s name. My father never knew the real Hans Bremer, the man who died in his studio.’

Per tried to remember whether Thomas Fall had said what he did. Was he in advertising? Whatever it was, he didn’t want to be associated with porn. He wanted the money, but not the reputation that went with it. And eventually, when Jerry was ill and Markus Lukas was dead and Jessika knew too much, and the real Hans Bremer was asking for more money, it was time to lure Jerry, Bremer and Jessika to the studio, burn the place down and get clean away.

Per looked at Gerlof. ‘And you spotted him.’

‘I saw him sitting in his car out on the road,’ said Gerlof. ‘He was pouring some kind of liquid into a bottle... and then there were the watches.’

‘Watches?’

‘He was wearing two watches on the same wrist, one stainless steel and one gold, just like your father. I thought that was strange... so I wanted to see where he went.’

Per let out a long breath. ‘I never saw him clearly... Did we look alike, Thomas Fall and I?’

‘Alike? What do you mean?’

‘He said we were half-brothers.’

Per turned his back on the quarry; he didn’t want to look down at the car any longer. He was covered in blood, dirty, burnt and battered, and his clothes still stank of petrol. It was his turn to go to hospital.

‘We need to ring for some help,’ he said. ‘We’d better go inside.’

He set off slowly towards his cottage, but when he looked around he realized that Gerlof was still standing on the edge of the quarry, his head drooping. He met Per’s gaze and blinked slowly, his expression confused, and when he finally spoke his voice was very weak.

‘I don’t know if I can manage without my stick. I feel a bit...’ Gerlof fell silent and swayed.

Per moved fast. His whole chest hurt as his ribs scraped against one another, but he didn’t hesitate. He took three long strides and grabbed hold of Gerlof before he fell over the edge.