![]() And the stiff knees were the result of a fall from a Ringveien footbridge which he used on his daily visits to his daughter. ![]() Harry knew that August Schulz was eighty-one years old and an ex-clothes retailer who had lived all his life in Majorstuen, apart from a period he spent in Auschwitz during the War. One of those pensioners of whom Majorstuen seems to be full. Beneath it: tweed jacket, tie and worn grey trousers with a needle-sharp crease. Hat plus elegant grey overcoat in dire need of a clean. The low October sun is reflected in the wing mirror of a car driving away in the rush hour. Outside the window, in Bogstadveien, the Friday crowds hurry past. ![]() Harry looked at the clock on the white wall above the exit. As if he were frightened to lose contact with the ground and float away into space. The comical short steps, the stiff movements, the dead, black eyes and the shoes shuffling along the parquet floor. The old man reminded Harry of an astronaut. Everyone asks what the meaning of life is, but no one asks about the meaning of death. We could have turned this life into something good, you and I. If you can see light at the end of the tunnel, it may be a spit of flame. I’m staring down the muzzle of a gun and I know that’s where it will come from. I may have been heading this way all the time without realising. That wasn’t the plan, not my plan, anyway. About the Author Other Books by Jo Nesbø Credits Cover Copyright About the Publisher
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