The Library of Shadows (20 page)

Her new insight made her involuntarily study the customers who turned up, and she caught herself slinking after some of them in order not to let them out of her sight. She also used her powers to gather all the impressions that she could, and if she found any of the customers to be suspect, she made sure that they lost any desire to read and then quickly left the shop.

In mid-afternoon, Jon rang. In her hypersensitive state, Katherina could hear at once that something was wrong.

'How's Iversen?' he asked.

'He's going to be discharged today or tomorrow,' said Katherina, and then went on to tell him about her visit to the hospital the previous evening. But judging from Jon's brief comments, she gathered his thoughts were elsewhere.

'Is anything wrong?' she asked after a pause in which neither of them said a word.

Jon gave a curt laugh on the other end of the line.

'Yes and no,' he replied. 'I've come to ... or rather I should say that I've been forced to make a decision.'

'Yes?' Katherina held her breath. Her brain was swiftly summoning up one horror scenario after another. A decision about what? Libri di Luca? Was he going to sell the shop after all when faced with the prospect of landing in the middle of a battle with the Shadow Organization? Had he been threatened? Bought?

Jon cleared his throat before he went on.

'How does a person go about getting activated?'

After Tom Nørreskov told them about the Shadow Organization and Luca's involvement, Jon had tried to reprogram his brain with the new information. After spending twenty years feeding it with speculations, allegations and anger, it felt as if he now had to switch the two halves of his brain around in order to find the true meaning. It was something he had to do alone, and after dropping Katherina off in front of Libri di Luca, he went straight home to his flat.

He unlocked the door, took off his jacket and went into the living room. The cleaning woman had been there, judging by the scent and the way the lifestyle magazines were stacked neatly on the black coffee table. The afternoon sun was shining through the newly washed windows, making him squint as the light reflected off the white floorboards and white walls. He went over to the black leather sofa and sat down with a sigh. The only other piece of furniture in the living room was a low grey bookcase along the opposite wall. On top stood a wide-screen TV and surround-sound system, taking up most of that wall. The wall behind him and the spaces between the windows were dominated by small black banners printed with Chinese characters in silver and red.

Jon leaned forward, picked up the stacks of magazines and set them on the floor. He then shoved them under the sofa without looking at them. The last thing he wanted to do right now was read.

As Jon sat on the sofa with his eyes fixed on the blank TV screen, the sun sank behind the rooftops and softer light filled the room. He found himself immersed in a swirl of questions and theories that refused to let him go. He went back and forth endlessly between his own childhood experiences and Tom Nørreskov's story. Hunger finally made him get up from the sofa and go out to the kitchen, where he threw together a meal from food he found in the cupboards. Then he dragged himself off to bed.

After a sleepless night Jon decided to go to the office. Partly so he could think about other things, and partly to re-establish contact with his former life, which now seemed so distant that he needed to see whether it really existed or was just a dream.

Jenny gave him a friendly nod when he arrived, but she didn't say anything, and Jon thought he glimpsed a mixture of relief and concern in her eyes. He found out the reason for her concern an hour later when he was summoned to Halbech's office.

'Hello, Campelli,' said Frank Halbech in a businesslike tone after Jon had closed the door behind him and sat down on a chair in front of his boss. 'Nice of you to show up.'

Jon, who was prepared to defend himself for taking time off, nodded. 'Yes, there were still some things to take care of following my father's death, and since the Remer case can't move forward as long as the main player won't give us the information we need, I thought it would be okay.'

Halbech's expression didn't change, but he gave Jon a searching glance.

'I've tried to get him to answer my queries,' Jon went on. 'But he's always either unavailable or he keeps mixing up other things in the case that have nothing to do with the charges.'

'That doesn't match up with what he told me,' said Halbech, leaning back in his office chair with his arms crossed. 'I spoke to him yesterday, since you weren't here. He wants you off the case.'

Jon did his best to hide his surprise.

'Remer claims that you seem uninterested, lazy, that you're not taking the case seriously. According to him, he's been available the whole time, and he was the one who had to contact you to get some sense of what was going on.'

Jon shook his head. 'That's not at all what happened. Remer's the one who's been impossible to reach. He doesn't even answer his emails.'

'Well, you've done something to piss him off, Campelli,' said Halbech, leaning forward. 'Remer puts a lot of money into this firm. So much that we can't afford to lose him because of the family matters of one of our co-workers. Of course it's regrettable that your father died, but you can't let that affect your work.'

'And I don't think I have,' said Jon. 'I can show you the correspondence that—'

'Right,' Halbech cut him off. 'I'm familiar with the correspondence. Remer read some of it to me, and I have to admit that I had expected you to use a more professional tone with our best client.'

Jon looked at him wide-eyed.

'He
read
it to you?' he asked.

'Yes,' Halbech confirmed, sounding annoyed.

'On the phone?'

'No,' replied Halbech, clearly annoyed now. 'I told you that he was here yesterday. He had copies of your correspondence, and he gave me a few examples, and I must say that ...'

Jon was no longer listening; a shocking realization forming in his mind. He pictured Remer sitting in the same chair where he now sat, reading aloud to Halbech, the co-owner of the law firm, who would have listened carefully and receptively to what the firm's notorious cash-cow had to say. Jon could guess how the tone of the text might seem, given his absences from work this last week, but what if Remer was a transmitter? Halbech wouldn't have had a chance.

As he sat there explaining how Remer had reviewed the material for him, Halbech seemed genuinely convinced that he was spouting his own appraisal, as if he had in fact formed an opinion about the material and had independently drawn his own conclusions.

'... and so we've decided to take you off the case,' Halbech finished saying.

'Okay,' said Jon with resignation. He started to get up.

'In fact,' said Halbech, raising his voice, which made Jon stay in his chair. 'In fact, we've had to take another look at your employment with the firm.'

Jon stared in shock at the man behind the desk.

'This office has no use for individuals who don't take our clients seriously,' Halbech elaborated without blinking. 'The clients come to us because they're in a bind, in one way or another, and it's our bloody obligation to treat them professionally. If word gets around that we're not serious about our work, whether it's true or not, we're finished in this business.'

'What is it you're trying to say?'

'That you're fired,' said Halbech curtly without taking his eyes off Jon. 'Relieved of your duties. Pack up your personal possessions and leave the building immediately.'

Jon knew there was nothing to be done. It wouldn't do any good to try to argue or explain. Remer had won this round, that much was clear. Jon looked down at his hands, as if they were what had prevented him from working. He noticed a rage growing inside him. Halbech was not the enemy here – he merely thought he was protecting his business. Jon nodded.

'Fine,' he said and got up.

'Jenny will escort you out,' said Halbech with a nod towards the door. 'Goodbye, Campelli.'

Jon turned on his heel without saying goodbye and walked over to the door. Outside Jenny was waiting, tears in her eyes.

'I'm so sorry, Jon,' she said at once.

'It's okay,' said Jon, giving her a hug. She was trembling, and she held onto him for a long time until Jon gently cleared his throat.

Jenny reluctantly released him. 'I have to ask you for your mobile and car keys,' she explained, stifling a sob and giving him an apologetic look.

Jon nodded. 'Let's get it over with.'

Ten minutes later he stood out on the pavement with no job or car or phone. He hardly knew which was the greatest loss. His job had secured him a certain standard of living, and the car had allowed him to get around, but without a mobile he felt very alone, cast out from the flow of information and unable to reach anyone who might help him. That was of course a load of crap, he persuaded himself. But it still took a long time before he found a public telephone that was functioning, and when he did find one, he decided to forget it. Partly because he didn't know what number to ring – all his phone numbers were stored in the mobile that he had just turned in – and partly because it suddenly seemed much too public to be talking on a pay phone in the middle of Strøget, the pedestrian street – much worse than if he'd used his mobile in the same place.

Jenny had slipped him a taxi voucher, but he left it in his pocket and walked home instead. On the way he had an opportunity to gather his thoughts. The rage was still hovering inside him like a stomach-ache, but it gave him a sense of satisfaction to know where he should direct his fury: at Remer and the Shadow Organization. They had succeeded in destroying Luca's life, and they were well on the way to doing the same with him. They had taken what he loved most – his work – or so they thought, at least. But Jon had actually begun to have his doubts. The events of the past few days had pushed his law career into the background, and he was no longer sure it was where his passion lay. But under no circumstance was he about to let this all just pass.

Back home in his flat, he rang Katherina.

After that everything happened very fast. Katherina rang him back in less than ten minutes. She had spoken to Iversen, who was going to be discharged that same day, and he had immediately suggested they should carry out the activation – or seance, as they called it – the following day. Jon asked if there was anything he needed to do to prepare, but the only advice Katherina could give him was that he should relax. So that was what he did, along with a bottle of red wine. The day ended with him falling asleep on the sofa, which was where he awoke the next morning.

In the sunlight, everything looked different. A couple of times he considered ringing Frank Halbech to explain the whole matter, but each time he tried to imagine the conversation that would result, he gave up. Besides, he had a terrible headache that prevented him from thinking clearly and reminded him how long it had been since he'd drunk a whole bottle of wine by himself.

The seance wasn't going to take place at Libri di Luca until after closing time, so his hangover had time to subside over the course of the day. In the evening Jon ate a solid meal of beef stroganoff, which for once he prepared from scratch in his kitchen. After that he took a cab to Libri di Luca, where Iversen was waiting.

Aside from a couple of cuts on his face, the old man looked like his old self, and he didn't even show any sign of fatigue after spending all day in the shop for the first time since his hospital stay.

'It's so wonderful to be back here again,' he said, smiling happily as he looked around the room. 'She's taken good care of the place, Katherina. I gave her the day off, but they'll be here for the activation – both Katherina and Pau.'

'Is that necessary?' asked Jon, who was beginning to feel uneasy.

'The effect is better the more participants there are,' Iversen explained. 'Katherina is especially important. As a receiver, she has the ability to guide your powers if it should turn out that you're a transmitter like your father.'

'And if I'm not?'

'If you're a receiver like Katherina, we'll need to proceed more cautiously. Not because there's any danger for you, but there could be some risk for me, as the reader of the text we're using. When you're activated, you won't know how to control your new powers.'

'And what if it turns out that I don't have any powers at all?'

'I'm sure you do, Jon. I've already noticed something about you. The Campelli tradition suggests that you're a transmitter, but it won't be possible to tell until the seance is over.'

'Does it hurt?'

'Not if you're relaxed and open,' replied Iversen. 'But if you try to fight it, there might be some pain associated with the activation. If you block it completely, we won't be able to carry it out, no matter how much we pressure you. Most people are naturally a little nervous in the beginning and have a hard time surrendering, but once they realize that it goes easier if they relax, the rest usually proceeds painlessly.'

'It sounds as if you've taken part in quite a few seances.'

'Actually only three.' Iversen smiled with embarrassment. 'And one of them was my own activation.'

Jon laughed. 'I feel much better now.'

Iversen studied Jon intently. 'I didn't mean to make you nervous, but the truth is that it's not an exact science. There are plenty of things we don't yet understand. But you're in good hands, Jon. If we sense that the slightest thing is going wrong, we'll just abort the whole process.'

'I hope you're not going to stop the whole thing just because I might happen to frown. I'm ready to do whatever's necessary, even if it does hurt a little.'

'Let's wait and see, Jon. Wait and see.'

At that moment there was a knock on the door and they both turned towards the sound. Katherina came in wearing a long dark coat. She gave Iversen a hug and then, smiling, held out her hand to Jon. He took her hand and pulled her close for an embrace. It was nice to see her again, so nice that he had to divert his eyes as their bodies separated.

'So, are you ready?' asked Katherina as she took off her coat and draped it over the counter. Underneath she was wearing a blue sweater, a pair of snug jeans and short black boots.

'As ready as I'll ever be.'

'Don't worry, we'll get you through this in one piece,' she said.

'Yes, well, that's what you all keep telling me.'

Katherina went downstairs while the two men stayed at the counter.

'So we're just waiting for Pau,' said Iversen, peering out of the window.

They didn't have to wait more than a couple of minutes before Pau came rushing through the door, making the bells dance.

'Hi, Svend. Hi, Jon.'

Both returned his greeting.

'Great night for an activation, huh? I mean, wind, rain and maybe if we're lucky we'll even get some thunder.'

Iversen smiled. 'So maybe we should move it outdoors?'

'No, that's okay, Svend,' said the young man, tossing his leather jacket on top of Katherina's coat. 'The princess here?'

'She's downstairs,' replied Iversen. 'We're just waiting for you.'

Pau seemed to think about that for a moment, but then he clapped his hands together and looked at Jon. 'Well, let's get started then.'

Jon and Pau went on ahead while Iversen locked the door and turned off the lights in the shop.

'How many activations have you participated in?' asked Jon when they reached the stairs.